If by Whiskey

Christian Cotton

If by God you mean the great dictator in the sky, the almighty smiter, the God who created us with imperfections then holds us responsible for the imperfections, the God who took away paradise and eternal life from us because the first man and woman committed a “wrong” against God before they were capable of knowing right from wrong […] then He is certainly not deserving of our love and worship. But, if when you say God you mean the defender, the protector, creator of heaven and earth, the father of us all, the being of pure love, kindness, and everything good in the world […] then certainly He is deserving of our love and worship.

Bo Bennett, “If by Whiskey,” at Logicallyfallacious.com

A common tactic in political discourse is to appear to take a moderate position, or “middle of the road” approach, on controversial issues, so as not to offend those upon whose vote the candidate or officeholder depends. Often, such a position takes the form of a response to a question that is contingent on the questioner’s own stance on the issue and makes use of words with strong emotional connotations, all without actually answering the question. Instead, it avoids the question by appearing to answer it. The if by whiskey fallacy is a kind of deception by double talk in which one supports both sides of an issue by using terms that are selectively emotionally sensitive. The name derives from a 1952 speech made by Noah S. “Soggy” Sweat, Jr., a legislator from the state of Mississippi, on the issue of whether Mississippi should continue its prohibition on alcohol:

You have asked me how I feel about whiskey. All right, here is how I feel about whiskey: If when you say whiskey you mean the devil’s brew, the poison scourge, the bloody monster, that defiles innocence, dethrones reason, destroys the home, creates misery and poverty, yea, literally takes the bread from the mouths of little children […] then certainly I am against it. But, if when you say whiskey you mean the oil of conversation, the philosophic wine, the ale that is consumed when good fellows get together, that puts a song in their hearts and laughter on their lips, and the warm glow of contentment in their eyes […] then certainly I am for it. (Oglesby)

It’s clear that Sweat has taken no real stand, despite all his words. There is nothing from which he could retreat and nothing on which to compromise because he hasn’t actually answered the question of whether the prohibition on alcohol should be lifted. He has merely disguised the issue in a host of emotional euphemisms, while leading the audience to see his “stand” as sympathetic to their own whichever way they swing. And yet, for all the rhetoric, we still don’t know whether the sale of alcohol should be legal. To say, in effect, “It depends on what you mean by whiskey,” is to reduce a substantive practical issue to a matter of semantics. This tactic can be deployed for many controversial issues for which there is, ostensibly, a “yes or no” answer. On the question of the legalization of cannabis, Pat Oglesby ([2013]) writes:

You have asked me how I feel about cannabis. All right, here is how I feel about cannabis: if by cannabis you mean the Devil’s weed, the gateway to the nightmare of hard‐drug addiction, the tempter of teenagers that terrifies parents, the cause of Willie Nelson’s feeling that the flesh was falling off his bones, the impairer of judgment, the cause of fatal automobile crashes […] then certainly I am against it. But, if when you say cannabis you mean the symbol of hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind, the miracle drug that treats dozens of diseases, the balm to humanity for millennia, the natural healer that tames the nausea of the cancer‐stricken chemotherapy patient and restores appetite to the withering invalid, the safer‐than‐physically‐addictive‐opiates reliever of intractable pain […] then certainly I am for it.

It’s clear from these examples that the speaker is relying on a number of descriptors, many of them euphemisms, selectively chosen to appeal to the emotions of listeners. In this way, one could argue that this fallacy is a special case of the appeal to emotion fallacy (see chapters 13 and 14). And yet, we are no closer to an answer to the substantive question of legislation. There is, in fact, no argument at all here. As with the alcohol example, “It depends on what you mean by cannabis” is neither an argument nor an answer. It’s semantics. Thus, because it is based on definitions that serve one’s purpose rather than generally accepted definitions, one could argue this is a special case of the persuasive definition fallacy (see Chapter 55). However, because of its particular use, to avoid answering a question on a controversial matter in a clear and decisive manner, it certainly warrants its own label. This evasion differs from being genuinely conflicted or trying to understand “both” sides of an issue. A speaker can acknowledge uncertainty honestly; the deception lies in appearing to answer while avoiding the policy question. What makes examples such as these fallacious is avoiding the question while appearing to answer the question by using emotionally charged language.

The trick to avoiding this fallacy is, simply put, to take a stand! Don’t play the language games. Don’t try to curry favor with all sides in a debate. If you aren’t comfortable taking a stand, for example, because you haven’t thought deeply enough about the topic, then say so. In a case like that, it isn’t a fallacy to weigh in on both sides. It is actually a sign that your critical thinking is engaged, that you are considering alternatives. In other words, it shows genuine conflict in your attitudes. As you grow more knowledgeable in the topic, you can begin to make arguments assessing the relative merits of both sides and choose the one that seems to you the best supported. There is no logical fault in playing it safe and considering multiple angles before making a commitment. The fault is in taking a stand that doesn’t stand for anything.