One unfortunate feature I’ve noticed in arguments between logically well-trained people and the untrained is a tendency for members of the former group to point out logical errors as if they were counterarguments. This is almost totally ineffective either in changing the mind of your opponent or in convincing neutral observers. There are two main reasons for this failure.
1. Pointing out fallacies is not the same thing as urging someone to reconsider their viewpoint.
Fallacies are problematic because they’re errors in the line of reasoning that one uses to arrive at or support a conclusion. In the same way that taking the wrong route to the movie theater is bad because you won’t get there, committing a fallacy is bad because you’ll be led to the wrong conclusions.
But all that isn’t inherent in the word ‘fallacy’: the vast majority of human beings don’t understand the statement “that’s a fallacy” as “you seem to have been misled by this particular logical error – you should reevaluate your thought process and see if you arrive at the same conclusions without it.” Rather, most people will regard it as an enemy attack,with the result that they will either reject the existence of the fallacy or simply ignore it. If, by some chance, they do acknowledge the error, they’ll usually interpret it as “your argument for that conclusion is wrong – you should argue for the same conclusion in a different way.”
If you’re actually trying to convince someone (as opposed to, say, arguing to appease the goddess Eris) by showing them that the chain of logic they base their current belief on is unsound, you have to say so explicitly. Otherwise saying “fallacy” is about as effective as just telling them that they’re wrong.
2. Pointing out the obvious logical errors that fallacies characterize often obscures the deeper errors that generate the fallacies.
Take as an example the No True Scotsman fallacy. In the canonical example, the Scotsman, having seen a report of a crime, claims that no Scotsman would do such a thing. When presented with evidence of just such a Scottish criminal, he qualifies his claim, saying that no true Scotsman would do such a thing.
The obvious response to such a statement is “Ah, but you’re committing the No True Scotsman fallacy! By excluding any Scotsman who would do such a thing from your reference class, you’re making your statement tautologically true!”
While this is a valid argument, it’s not an effective one. The Scotsman, rather than changing his beliefs about the inherent goodness of all Scots, is likely to just look at you sulkily. That’s because all you’ve done is deprive him of evidence for his belief, not make him disbelieve it – wiped out one of his squadrons, so to speak, rather than making him switch sides in the war. If you were actually trying to make him change his mind, you’d have to have a better model of how it works.
No one is legitimately entranced by a fallacy like No True Scotsman – it’s used strictly as rationalization, not as a faulty but appealing reason to create a belief. Therefore the reason for his belief must lie deeper. In this case, you can find it by looking at what counts for him as evidence. To the Scotsman, the crime committed by the Englishman is an indictment of the English national character, not just the action of an individual. Likewise, a similar crime committed by a Scotsman would be evidence against the goodness of the Scottish character. Since he already believes deeply in the goodness of the Scottish character, he has only two choices: acknowledge that he was wrong about a deeply felt belief, or decide that the criminal was not really Scottish.
The error at the deepest level is that the Scotman possesses an unreasoned belief in the superiority of Scottish character, but it would be impractical at best to argue that point. The intermediate and more important error is that he views national character as monolithic – if Scottish character is better than English character, it must be better across all individuals – and therefore counts the actions of one individual as non-negligible evidence against the goodness of Scotland. If you’re trying to convince him that yes, that criminal really can be a Scotsman, the best way to do so would not be to tell him that he’s comitting a fallacy, but to argue directly against the underlying rationale connecting the individual’s crime and his nationalism. If national character is determined by, say, the ratio of good men to bad men in each nation, then bad men can exist in both England and Scotland without impinging on Scotland’s superiority – and suddenly there’s no reason for the fallacy at all. You’ve disproved his belief and changed his mind, without the word ‘fallacy’ once passing your lips.
Here are some of the ways I go about trying to convince people of things. I have no idea whether it actually works or not.
Attacking someone else's thought process has the problems the OP observes. So instead, I try to explain my thought process. The goal is that they will say, "hey, I can get on board with what this guy is saying." Even if they aren't ready to get on board, at least they might be more open-minded towards my position for the future, and be willing to "agree to disagree" (yes, it's a fallacy, but don't point that out). I want to gain some of their epistemic trust.
Even when I disagree, I do the following things:
Emphasize areas of agreement
Personalize and subjectivize my disagreement: "Well, in my view...", "here's how it looks to me", "what worries me is this", "I can't quite get on board with that"
Use analogies, rather than pointing out fallacies. (Though be careful picking analogies, or you can get whole conversation trees discussing the aptness of the analogies.)
Respond to what I actually think their argument is, rather than trying to nitpick or trap them in what they actually said.
Point out implications of what they are saying, and ask them if they agree with those implications.
I also try to project a likable, trustworthy character that people can feel is a "good person." Liking is an important tool of persuasion. You see, most people cannot consider arguments separately from people. By coming off as a likable and credible, I correct for people's biases against views they don't initially agree with. I want to minimize people automatically throwing out my arguments simply because they don't like the way I come off. Of course, I can't please everyone, and not everyone is going to like me. (Some people will consider my debate style passive-aggressive, and with them, all I can do is throw in a bit of sarcasm or anger.)
Luckily, since I have high Agreeableness and Openness, most of these strategies I describe are pretty authentic and fit my personality, most of the time. I have text files full of snippets of sarcastic stuff that I don't post, because nowadays I try to post what I would post if I looked at the thread tomorrow, rather than what I feel like posting in the heat of the moment.
I could probably go even farther towards projecting a likable character, and being emotionally relatable. But that could get smarmy, and I'm not always in the mood. So the character I project probably comes off as more cerebral than I seem in real life.
I won't claim the strategies of persuasion that I use to be successful or ideal; they are simply the habits I've fallen into over the years. Also, what I do in discussions where I'm only trying to convince onlookers, not the other person, can be different. YMMV.
So.... am I using "Dark Arts"?
Only if you use your powers for evil. I assume you're aware of your moral compass at all times and would only ever use these powers for win-win being excellent to others.