Wouldn’t it be nice if politicians learnt to apply their minds?
The phrase “business and politics don’t mix” used to be heard quite a lot in the olden days. Mostly it was uttered by businesspeople — not so much by politicians. These days it is said by hardly anyone. It is now thoroughly unremarkable to witness businesspeople openly meddling in politics, and it is seen as a mark of distinction when a newly appointed politician comes with a “strong business background” — CV-speak for “a lot of money”.
“If she has made her own money she can’t be bought” goes the reasoning, or, “If she knows how to run a business empire she should easily be able to run a government department”.
Both those arguments, as we all know, stand up for about as long as a one-legged giraffe at a watering hole. The first lacks validity because of the limitless nature of human greed and the bottomless nature of human fallibility; the second because bureaucracy (meaning simply the workings of public administration without any negative red-tape connotations) and governance are creatures far removed from commerce and corporations.
That’s not to say that a “strong business background” should disqualify anyone from mounting a political horse. Just because a person’s only political credential is her friendship with a head of state and her only work experience the design of hideously overpriced handbags does not mean she won’t make an excellent member of the diplomatic corps.
There might be logical validity in an argument that questions someone’s fitness for an ambassadorial post based on her lack of professional qualifications, but to damn her because of her handbags is to commit the ad hominem fallacy. Literally meaning “against the man”, ad hominem is when you try to undermine someone’s position or argument by attacking an aspect of his person or character.
It might not be of much comfort when you’re the one being told that your policy sucks because you once smoked a marijuana cigarette, but being the subject of an ad hominem attack should really be taken as a compliment because if an irrelevant personal insult is the only response your opponent can muster, you must have really got to them.
The opposite of launching an ad hominem attack would be the charitable attitude — an old-fashioned name for trying to engage with your opponent’s view without bias. You might still disagree with them but before making that decision you will have thoroughly explored, understood and considered their point.
Philosopher Daniel Dennett describes this as an “attempt to reexpress your target’s position so clearly, vividly and fairly that your target says: ‘Thanks, I wish I’d thought of putting it that way.’”
Imagine if the world operated like this. Helen Zille would not try to defend herself by questioning the credentials of a journalist who dared criticise her. She’d take his criticism to heart and wrangle with it in a calm and responsive way. ANC spokesperson Pule Mabe would not dismiss Tito Mboweni’s strategies based on the finance minister’s age, nor would he accuse the publishers of a survey that showed growing dissatisfaction with the ruling party of being “peddlers of lies with divisive intentions”.
That brings to mind another wise observation made by Dennett: “Those who fear the facts will forever try to discredit the factfinders.”
South African politicians are certainly not the only ones who rely on ad hominem attacks when trying to discredit their opponents. We are fairly mild compared to some.
It is not clear exactly what beef North Korea’s leaders had with Democratic presidential candidate Joe Biden this week — possibly it had to do with his use of the word “tyrant” — but the response was classic ad hominem. A statement issued by the Korean Central News Agency on Thursday said: “Rabid dogs like Biden can hurt lots of people if they are allowed to run about. They must be beaten to death with a stick.”
Most of us would balk at that sort of language but there is not a lot of difference between calling Biden a rabid dog and calling a finance minister old, calling a journalist ignorant or calling an ambassador a profiteering fantasist.
Of course we should not stop questioning everything, particularly political decisions, because if we keep our heads in the sand like ostriches we risk being made into handbags, but it would be nice to think that one day we will see a world in which political debate is carried out in a charitable and logical manner.
Sadly, even the most Panglossian among us must admit that this is unlikely. Business and politics might have become soulmates but logic and politics still mix about as well — to commit a dozen more logical fallacies — as the average American and irony.