Ad hominem may be the most common of all informal fallacies. We commit it when we reject an idea or an argument not on the basis of a flaw in that idea or argument but on the basis of a perceived flaw in the person making the argument. Ad hominem is Latin for “to the man” and we are committing the fallacy when our counter “arguments” are directed to the man rather than to the idea. If you say to me, “The moon is made of green cheese” and I respond, “No it’s not. Why should I believe you, when your mother wears army boots?” Note here that it matters not whether the original affirmation “The moon is made of green cheese” is true or not. Neither does it matter whether the accusation is true or not. Your mother’s boots have nothing to do with it.
Why then do people commit this fallacy so often? Because we’re terrible people who don’t like either losing an argument or actually engaging one. Ad hominem is a short cut. And because it works. Now, by works I don’t mean it answers the argument. But it will often silence the arguer.
Just last week I posted a tweet that ruffled a few feathers, asking if perhaps the increasingly public drift to the political left by evangelical leaders is not because their thinking has changed but that they were always left leaning but were afraid to reveal it as it would look like a betrayal of the unborn. It was a question, not an accusation. But it seems to have had some legs, bringing more response than anything I’ve ever tweeted. One person didn’t care for the insinuation, so he brought careful arguments to bear. Well no, that’s not what he did. Instead he posted, “It is always good when those who bring shame to the gospel throw stones.” That, friends, is an ad hominem. Unlike your mother’s footwear, the truth is that I do bring shame to the gospel. That reality, however, has no bearing on the truthfulness of what I said.
My accuser presumably posted his remark in an attempt to silence me. The implication seems to be, “People who bring shame to the gospel should not be ‘throwing stones.’” I’m supposed to blush, clutch my pearls and run for the hills never to be heard from again. And I would, were it not for Jesus. I can’t be shamed because I have no shame. I have no shame not because I’ve never earned it. I do that daily, like everyone else. I have no shame because He’s taken it all. Were I standing on my own goodness, my own reputation, I would flee with the speed of a thousand very fast things. But just as, in Christ I have no shame, in myself I have not a leg to stand on. Which means I can’t run if I wanted to.
It is important that we learn to stop using the ad hominem fallacy against those we’re arguing against. It demonstrates that we are plenty not so bright and more than enough not very nice. It is also important, however, that we learn to stop being felled by those who seek to use it against us. For such demonstrates that we are dim enough to think our reputation can withstand an attack and weak enough to think it matters.
