Guardian Review,
1 November 2003

 
     

Times Review,
29 November 2003

 
     

Sunday Telegraph, December 2003

A Selection from Blue-eyed and stringy , By David Sexton

 

Bragg's old chatroom, Start the Week (Radio 4, Monday), is nothing like so good under the political journalist Andrew Marr, far more dependent upon the erratic guests themselves than it used to be.  Last week, style vapourer Stephen Bayley was puffing his Dictionary of Idiocy , saying how much he liked people to have as many opinions as possible, to talk about at dinner. He was cut down by an incisive philosopher, Jamie Whyte, author of Bad Thoughts: A Guide to Clear Thinking , who told him that he didn't believe people do have any automatic right to their opinions.  "If you care about the truth, you shouldn't want to ward off refutation," he said, calling Bayley's attitude "decadent".

"I don't know what sort of dinner parties you go to but they sound duller than mine," sniffed Baley.

"No, actually, quite the reverse," Whyte returned.  "If I go to a dinner with somebody and they have a lot of opinions but they don't really believe them, I find that to be rather dull.  It's a gadfly thing...What are you doing here?" he asked - perhaps to exemplify his attitude at such dinners, but possibly looking straight at Bayley as he spoke.  Bayley hit back by revealing that Whyte was "wearing a beige jumper".  Boys, boys.

 

Independent, December 2003

A Selection from Why do we still buy alternative remedies, when so few have been proven to work? By Clint Witchalls

 

A couple of weeks ago, the University of Washington in Seattle published a paper saying that echinacea is no better than a placebo when it comes to treating colds in children. Now, when I see someone in the chemist reach for a pack of echinacea, I want to say to them: "Didn't you read the study? This stuff is useless. Put it back." Why do people choose to ignore the evidence of studies that refute the efficacy of their favourite alternative remedy? Is it a case of wilful ignorance?

"I think two mistakes encourage people to believe in medicines even when tests have shown that they don't work," says Jamie Whyte, the author of Bad Thoughts (Corvo). "The first is to mistake negative test results - tests that show there is no correlation between taking the medicine and getting better - for a mere absence of positive evidence that there is a correlation. That is, people that think that, after such tests, the matter simply remains open.

"The second mistake is to think that although the medicine doesn't work for everyone (that's all the negative test shows, they think), it does work for them. They've taken the medicine and got better. They don't realise they would have got better just as quickly without the medicine. You could say their mistake is in personalising the matter - the medicine works for them; tests only show what happens with other people."

Some people claim to have lost faith in science altogether, and are simply guided by their inner guru when it comes to purchasing decisions. Mike Miller, a civil servant from Limerick, Ireland and a fan of herbal remedies, says he hasn't lost faith in science, but "studies can be used to prove anything". And that certainly seems to be the case. One week margarine is good for you, the next it's not. Eggs are bad for you, then they're not. Who can keep up? In the same week that the echinacea findings were published, Trudy Norris, the president of the National Institute of Medical Herbalists, told the BBC: "This research contradicts many other studies that show the beneficial effect of taking Echinacea."

Faced with this confusion, I would opt not to buy any alternative remedies. But this is not the decision most people make when reading the results of these sorts of studies. Alternative remedy believers tend to remain loyal to their faith. They will readily quote studies that support the claims of their favourite alternative remedies, yet ignore studies that refute those claims.

Sceptics sniff at such irrational behaviour, but we're all prone to irrational behaviour at some time or another. Thinking like a scientist simply isn't in our nature. Dr Michael Shermer, the publisher of Skeptic magazine ( www.skeptic.com ), says that most people who turn to alternative remedies do so when traditional medicine fails to provide what they're looking for, which is attention along with a cure. "In addition," he says, "humans are pattern-seeking animals who think anecdotally, not scientifically. They think, 'My aunt Mary tried extract of seaweed and her cancer went into remission, so there must be something to it.' Most of us, most of the time, accept such stories as evidence. We have been thinking this way for millions of years, but we have been doing science for only 400 years."

But there's nothing contradictory in being a scientist and a believer in complementary medicine. Professor Edzard Ernst, a professor of complementary medicine at the University of Exeter, is both scientist and alternative medicine man.

Ernst acknowledges that it is difficult for most people, even health professionals, to make sense of apparently contradictory information. "I only see two options," he says. "First, you trust someone's advice. The trouble with this is finding someone competent. Herbalists might be overstating their point, and UK doctors usually haven't got a clue about herbal medicine. Second, you refer to sources that are based on the totality of the available evidence, like our book The Desktop Guide to Complementary and Alternative Medicine [Mosby]."

And there's an issue with the studies themselves. "The problem with herbals is that because of their traditional use, there is no possibility of patenting these products, because of 'prior art'," says Dr Liz Williamson of the School of Pharmacy at the University of London. "So there is little incentive for anyone to do these studies - and if anyone does, the competition can just use the data (which is in the scientific literature and therefore the public domain), to sell their own product. And this product may not have been tested at all, and may not even be similar, but the consumer rarely knows the difference between a quality product and a rubbish product - they just go for the price, and buy on the net."

Bear in mind that alternative remedies are not, at worst, just ineffective. Some are downright dangerous. Kava kava, a natural tranquilliser, was removed from UK health-food shops after four people died and seven needed liver transplants after using the herb.

Trudy Norris admits that there is a lot of misinformation, but says labelling requirements will improve as a result of an EU directive on traditional medicines. In the meantime, there's no simple solution to the question of whether you should use particular ones. You have to do your homework. And if avoiding questionable remedies doesn't save your life, it might just save you a few quid.

 

Spoiled Ink, January 2004

Sean Merrigan

 

Open pretty much any introductory book on philosophy and somewhere near the beginning, usually after some rather good-natured, self-deprecating remarks by the author on the impossibility of his or her humble treatise ever doing more than merely scratching the surface of the subject, you will find a proposition along the lines of: "Philosophy is not something one studies; rather something one does." It is to be suspected, however, that after a few pages or so, you the budding philosopher might well be disinclined to agree. Up against Heraclitus' assertion that one cannot step into the same river twice, or, if you are a very quick reader, Hegel's formulation of a historicised ontology - you might well confess to feeling that you have in fact absorbed more ideas than you have thought up for yourself.

This doesn't mean there's anything wrong with books concerned with the history of philosophical ideas. What it does mean is that if a book claims to introduce philosophy as an activity, but then implicitly suggests otherwise by providing no room for the reader to have a go, then it fails by its own terms. It's all very well to have ideas and opinions, but without some prior knowledge as to what makes an idea or argument good then one is potentially at risk from bad thinking: either one's own, or worse still, someone else's. In Bad Thoughts: a guide to clear thinking, Jamie Whyte sets out the issue thus: 'Unless you know how reasoning can go wrong, you can't see that it has." To this end he provides a handy guide to twelve common errors in reasoning, illustrating each one with examples drawn from the often fuzzy realm of current affairs.

Whyte starts with the premise that there is a lot of bad thinking being done in the world, a fact the most cursory glance at a newspaper bears out. The learned Bishop of Chester recently provided a good example, stating "Some people who are primarily homosexual can reorientate themselves [Ö] I would encourage them to consider that as an option, but I would not set myself up as a medical specialist on the subject." This must have provoked the odd raised eyebrow amongst qualified psychiatrists who have remained oddly silent on the subject. Flipping through to the appropriate sections in Bad Thoughts - almost as you would a bird spotting guide had a large dodo inexplicably materialized in the garden - the vague sense of unease one feels at such statements metamorphoses into a state of outrage as you realise they are nothing more than hot air and poor logic.

The Bishop of Chester's blunder falls into the category of the Authority Fallacy, which is dealt with in Chapter One. Whyte points out that such errors occur due to a confusion between two distinct orders of authority: firstly the kind held by policemen, referees and mothers, which empowers the holder to decide something (bedtime, whether the offside rule applies etc.), and secondly the type held by someone who is an expert on a matter ("the authority on the topic") and thus likely to be right about it. The good Bish. actually performs an elaborate variation on this theme, pretending his divinely ordained authority to decide moral matters makes him a simultaneously reliable authority on medical psychiatry. To make matters worse, he compounds his error by making his inconsistency explicit: "I don't want to set myself up as an expert". Would you undergo psychiatric sexual reorientation on the advice of a non-expert? Not if you've read Bad Thoughts.

One might of course opine that such rash arguments are hotly debated in the media, producing huge quantities of column inches, T.V documentaries, questions in the House of Lords and so forth, thereby making a pocket sized book announcing their error largely inconsequential. Surely amidst all this blather someone must have got to the root of this problem? As Whyte demonstrates, this is not necessarily the case. More often than not, the original issue at stake becomes sidelined in the debate. Jack advances an opinion that Jill disagrees with. Jill provides evidence to suggest that Jack is incorrect, and not having any evidence of his own, Jack invokes his "right to an opinion". But Jack has committed a fallacy. As Whyte demonstrates: "By pointing out that he is entitled to his view, Jack has simply changed the subject from the original topic, to a discussion of his rights." Surprisingly perhaps, attempts to prove Jack's 'right to an opinion' is tricky, for surely Jill must also be entitled to her right to an opinion, and thus to determine who's rights are in danger of being violated one needs to settle the original argument.

Of course in terms of selling newspapers, as in T.V talk-shows, settling the argument is far less fun than watching the participants slug it out, therefore something to be discouraged. Whyte identifies a similar distraction tactic at work in the "The Motive Fallacy," one which he suggests "is so common in politics that serious policy debate is almost non-existent." Take a look at some of the policy debates currently ongoing, dull aren't they? It's much more fun to accuse politicians of pandering to the working class, or to students, or to the right wing, than working out what their policies will actually mean. But as Whyte points out, speculating whether a politician's motives are behind the policy he or she promotes is rarely a good gauge as to the effectiveness of that policy, since this motivation has no bearing on whether the policy is good or not. Clearly, "committing the fallacy ends the debate, not by properly refuting one of the positions, but simply by changing the subject." Again, on a talk-show, this dwelling on motives increases the entertainment value, for often the real reason why Jack ran off with Jill is fairly banal. However, when more weighty issues are at stake, "the Motive Fallacy creates an infuriating diversion when the original topic is important and the correct opinion is a matter of dispute between well-informed people."

So Is the Iraq conflict really justifiable in terms of a 'war on terror'? Are genetically modified crops a good way to solve famine in developing countries? Should fox-hunting be banned? Does my bum look big in this skirt? Maybe Jamie Whyte cannot claim to have provided the reader with definitive answers to these questions, but he has provided the means to diagnose the woolly thinking that often accompanies them. Punctuated throughout with humorous insights and provocative arguments, Bad Thoughts: a guide to clear thinking is an invaluable tool in the debagging of logically unsound arguments, regardless of the respectability that masks them.

Pantaneto Forum, April 2004

Nigel Sanit

  

This is a concise fun book on the subject of rhetoric at a student friendly price of £8.99. The non-threatening cover, depicting a roughly sketched brain with background graffiti, masks what is really a very serious book on a serious subject. The book is written in a style which introduces the reader into the art and science of argumentation in a relaxed and painless way.

The importance of clear thinking and well reasoned arguments cannot be underestimated in our society today. In particular, for scientists, being able to express oneself clearly to different groups is an essential skill in order to be able to recognize bad arguments both in oneself and in others.

Apart from a lack of an index ñ a regrettable omission ñ there are occasional lapses where the author falls into the very traps he is warning us against. He inveighs against the UK government's ìreckless education policiesî (p14), and further attacks the Prime Minister's position on fox ñhunting (p88) and Iraq (p90). These are clearly matters the author feels strongly about, but no reasons are given for these statements. If we take the ìAuthority Fallacyî (p13) as something to be wary of: i.e. when people who are not expert in a particular field state their opinions as facts, then the author is certainly guilty of this ñ perhaps ìAuthor Fallacyî is a better term. Another lapse is the use of the term ìwidely acceptedî (p121); such authoritative terms are pinpointed as specious (p16). On the other hand in any debate, diversity of viewpoint is an asset. One does not want to be led to the conclusion that no opinions are useful ñ if arguments from authority are never allowed, then what is left, no matter how well reasoned, might be rather arid.

The chapter on prejudicial arguments handles a rather subtle topic in an engaging way. One lapse here though is an equivocation on the word ìexceptionalî in an example quoted by the author (p36). Apart from its common meaning of ìextremely specialî, in accountancy and finance, with respect to company accounts, it has a very specific technical meaning, which just refers to certain types of loss, that satisfy a well-defined set of rules. The author's criticism of the use of the term ìexceptional lossî by a Company confused the two meanings. The loss may well have been exceptional (extremely special) but it certainly was exceptional (as defined by accountancy rules).

The critique on homeopathy (p92) is spoilt by a miscalculation. In a footnote, the author explains that in a 20X dilution, you would need tons of medicine to get even one molecule of active ingredient. This would be true in a 30X dilution, but in a 20X dilution you would in fact get hundreds of molecules in a single pill.

On the scientific front the discussion on the speed of light is a bit wayward. The author maintains that: ìLight travels either faster, slower or at the same speed as soundî (p31). One has to be careful when talking about the speed of light to ensure that you are talking about the speed of light in vacuo . Light travelling through a medium- glass or water for instance - can travel much slower than the speed of light in vacuo . In particular, light can sometimes travel slower than the local speed of sound. In these cases, scientists observe Cerenkov radiation ñ a kind of shock phenomenon a bit like the sonic boom of an aircraft travelling faster than sound.

Apart from a lack of index, which I think is quite a serious shortcoming, the lapses described are quite minor and should not detract from the book. All students, particularly science students, should have a course on writing skills, and this book would provide an excellent text on argumentation skills.
     

surefish.co.uk, June 2004

Steve Tomkins

  

Bad Thoughts is a book of warnings. Jamie Whyte lists the logical fallacies and traps that we are always falling or being pushed into, so that we can watch out and think straight.

There's the authority fallacy, that something is true because someone says it is. If your paper tells you a proposed drugs law is a good idea because bereaved parents say it is, watch out for the snare.

The shut up fallacy is pretending to beat someone's argument when all you've done is silence them or diverted attention. When Kim Howell, Minister for Culture, denounced Turner Prize art as "cold conceptual bullshit", the prizewinner replied that Howell's own painting was "insipid middle class kitsch". Touché - except how does that stop Turner prize art being bullshit?

Also check out hooray words, like "justice", that can be used to get doubters on your side without making remotely clear what you mean by them.

The book's weakness is Whyte's ferocious anti-Christianity. I normally find, as a Christian, that this gives a pleasant spiciness to a book; and the majority of books on this list are explicitly atheist, which tells you something about current philosophical orthodoxy. But unlike Baggini, whose atheism is compellingly measured, Whyte's antipathy blunts his tools.

He argues that all educated Christians are guilty of intellectual dishonesty because the doctrine of the Trinity is self-evidently false. But the doctrine as he explains it - that the Son and the Holy Spirit are both "identical with God" is not what educated Christians actually believe, so he is shooting at a straw deity - another major logical fallacy. Perhaps that one will be in the sequel.