What is it to “beg the question” (BtQ)? Why, it is to “raise a question or point that has not been dealt with.” It is to “invite an obvious question” (Oxford New American Dictionary)
Obviously!
But it is not so obvious to me, oldster—and philosopher—that I am. The term “beg the question” has a traditional meaning of significant importance in the study of logic or reasoning—and, I would suggest, in critical thinking instruction generally. It is the meaning that I was taught when I went to university in the early 70s.
To beg the question in this sense is to commit a particular fallacy. More specifically, it is to do this: in the course of arguing for proposition P, one assumes—without realizing it—the truth of P.
Logically, that's a total train wreck.
BtQ is a surpassing fallacy, like arguing for the proposition that God exists by simply repeating “God exists.”
QED!
Here’s a standard example of this fallacy. Suppose I argue for God’s existence as follows:
Of course God exists! After all, the Bible speaks of God, and we can trust the Bible, since it is divinely inspired!
— I.e., we know that God exists because the Bible assumes God’s existence; and anything the Bible assumes is true since the Bible has been made truthful by God
— Which is to assume that God exists in one’s argument to establish the proposition that God exists.
Embarrassing! Absurd! Ridiculous!
Begging the question is alternatively called “circular” reasoning, for its starting point and end point are, in a way, the same point: God exists; thus, God exists.
Critical thinkers are taught to be on the lookout for this fallacy because people do commit it. So it is important.
But, nowadays, there is no easy way to refer to it.
Fifty years ago, among some significant subset of educated persons, one could declare that Jones is “begging the question” and be understood. One was saying that, logically speaking, Jones has messed up bigtime, for he is assuming the very thing he is supposed to be supporting or defending. Intolerable!
But, nowadays, unless one is among philosophers or logicians, one's remark about Jones will not be understood. —Without the old sense of "BtQ," one is compelled to scramble to make oneself understood.
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Let’s turn to the Oxford English Dictionary, which provides the following entry for “beg the question”:
To take for granted without warrant; esp. in to beg the question: to take for granted the matter in dispute, to assume without proof.
1581 W. Charke in A. Nowell et al. True Rep. Disput. E. Campion (1584) iv. sig. F f iij I say this is still to begge the question.
1680 Bp. G. Burnet Some Passages Life Rochester (1692) 82 This was to assert or beg the thing in Question.
1687 E. Settle Refl. Dryden's Plays 13 Here hee's at his old way of Begging the meaning.
1788 T. Reid Aristotle's Logic v. §3. 118 Begging the question is when the thing to be proved is assumed in the premises.
1852 H. Rogers Eclipse of Faith (ed. 2) 251 Many say it is begging the point in dispute.
1870 F. C. Bowen Logic ix. 294 The vulgar equivalent for petitio principii is begging the question.
In fact, one can find three meanings in contemporary dictionaries:
• To assume precisely what one is supposed to be arguing for (traditional)
• To raise or invite an obvious question (newfangled)
• To evade an issue (newfangled)
The last meaning is mentioned only occasionally. It appears to be a creature that has crawled a few inches from the traditional meaning.
The New Oxford American Dictionary (which is loaded on all Apple computers) offers this usage note:
USAGE - The original meaning of the phrase beg the question belongs to the field of logic and is a translation of the Latin term petitio principii, literally meaning ‘laying claim to a principle’ (that is, assuming something that ought to be proved first), as in the following sentence: by devoting such a large part of the anti-drug budget to education, we are begging the question of its significance in the battle against drugs. To some traditionalists, this is still the only correct meaning. However, over the last 100 years or so, another, more general use has arisen: ‘invite an obvious question,’ as in some definitions of mental illness beg the question of what constitutes normal behavior. This is by far the more common use today in modern standard English.
So the NOAD holds that “some traditionalists,” including, evidently, the OED, regard what I’m calling the traditional meaning of BtQ as the only correct meaning. On the other hand, the NOAD is likely correct in saying that the “invite an obvious question” meaning “is by far the more common use today in modern standard English.”
The American Heritage Dictionary offers this usage note:
Historically, logicians and philosophers have used the phrase beg the question to mean "to put forward an argument whose conclusion is already assumed as a premise." Usually, when people beg the question in this sense, the conclusion and the assumed premise are put in slightly different words, which tends to obscure the fact that such an argument is logically meaningless. For instance, to argue that caviar tastes better than peanut butter because caviar has a superior flavor is to beg the question—the premise that is taken as given (that caviar's flavor is superior) is essentially identical to the point it is intended to prove (that caviar tastes better).· But since at least the early 1900s, laypeople have been using beg the question in slightly different senses, to mean "raise a relevant question" or "leave a relevant question unanswered." When used in these senses, beg the question is usually followed by a clause explaining what the question in question is, as in That article begs the question of whether we should build a new school or renovate the old one or The real estate listing claims that the kitchen is spacious, which begs the question of what "spacious" means. These senses of beg the question are so well established that they have nearly displaced the original sense in everyday usage, but they are still often frowned on by traditionalists, especially those with training in philosophy; in our 2013 survey, the sentences above were judged acceptable only by slim majorities of the Usage Panel—55 and 58 percent, respectively. By contrast, a sentence using the phrase in its original sense (When I asked him why we must protect every endangered species regardless of the cost, he said it was because every species is priceless, but that just begs the question) was considered acceptable by 79 percent of the Panel. The newer senses of beg the question will probably continue to flourish because "begging a question" suggests "begging for," or "raising" a question. However, this broader usage will also probably continue to draw the ire of philosophers and others who use the "circular reasoning" sense of the term, for which there is no good substitute, and do not want to see its technical meaning lost.
— “For which there is no good substitute.” Hear hear!
AHD’s note strikes me as particularly helpful. It shares with the NOAD the notion that the “new” meaning of BtQ is about a century old.
On the other hand Dictionary.com asserts that
This phrase [meaning “assuming what is to be proved”], whose roots are in Aristotle's writings on logic, came into English in the late 1500s. In the 1990s, however, people sometimes used the phrase as a synonym of “ask the question” (as in The article begs the question: “What are we afraid of?”).
Wiktionary seems to take a similar view when it states, “The sense ‘raise a question, prompt a question’ is more recent….” My impression is that the "raise the question" sense suddenly spread in the 80s. Or maybe the great outbreak occurred in the 90s. Could be.
Wiktionary further asserts that “The [traditional] sense is not well understood except in specialized contexts, such as in academic and in legal argument. It is based on a sense of beg which is no longer common.”
Yes, but the traditional concept or category of BtQ is important, and it is a shame that we are losing—or have lost—this valuable verbal tool.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to see myself—and users of language generally—as travelers along a long and diverse road in which the folk encountered invariably imagine that their tools are the right tools, the only tools, for whatever needs doing. The traveler, however, to the extent that he has traveled, would never conceive such a notion.
I recommend such cosmopolitanism.
I love thinking about words as having surprising and curious histories as they snake through time. I cringe at the popular notion that a word’s meaning—that is, its “real” or “true” meaning—is its original meaning, a static thing. To mix metaphors: the original meaning of a word is just one of the ingredients in the stew that is that word—or perhaps it is the starting point of a complex transformative journey.
It is not the essence. It is not the core.
The word may even have left its one-time core far behind, a betrayal of its original self.
* * *
Speaking of metaphors: one kind of change to which a word can be susceptible is our understanding of a word’s metaphorical quality.
It can lose that.
Take the word “based.” I like that word. There is the noun, “base,” which refers (often) to “the bottom of something considered as its support : FOUNDATION” (Merriam-Webster).
Then there is the verb “base,” as in “have as the foundation for (something)” or “to find a foundation … for : to find a base … for —usually used with on or upon.”
And so there is a base: something upon which some other thing rests or is supported. And then there is that which is “based” on (or upon) it.
Sensible. Logical.
But illogic has long been afoot.
In my long career as a teacher—i.e., an evaluator of young people’s verbal efforts—I’ve noticed a definite change in how they think about the verb “base.” Because I think of something being based on something else in relation to the metaphor of a base and that for which it is a support, I have always spoken in this way:
• Led Zepplin’s “Stairway to Heaven” is based on Spirit’s “Taurus.”
• The 1960 TV series “The Fugitive” was loosely based on Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables.
• Based on your accent, I gather that you’re from crazy town.
What else?
Here’s how the youth of today speak:
• Led Zepplin’s “Stairway to Heaven” is based off of Spirit’s “Taurus.”
• The 1960 TV series “The Fugitive” was loosely based off of Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables.
• Based off of your accent, I gather that you’re from crazy town.
The horror:
I was horrified when, maybe thirty or so years ago, I first began to encounter in student writing the construction “based off.”
Based off?! A base is something that supports something on top of it. Hence, one must speak of X being BASED ON Y. Talk of X being BASED OFF of Y is nonsense! It’s confused!
I crossed “based off” out whenever I found it. “That’s not English,” I’d say or write.
But I kept encountering that construction. It started as a trickle but became a flood.
A few years ago, I spoke with some of my younger colleagues at the college. Yep, they, too, said “based off.” When I suggested that “based off” makes no sense, they just stared at me, uncomprehending.
(This reminds me of the time that I asked a fresh new colleague who her favorite musical artist was. “Justin Timberlake,” she said. I was nonplussed.)
Since then, I’ve paid attention—on TV and elsewhere—and, sure enough, the new standard—at least in my part of the world (Southern California)—is BASED OFF, not that musty old BASED ON.
I spoke about all this with an old colleague and friend. I asked her if she is still horrified upon encountering “based off” in her students’ speech and writing.
She is.
Nay, she is incensed.
But it seems clear that our efforts to draw a line in the sand about “base” are hopeless. Somehow, “base” has been torn from its once familiar moorings (or base). The torch has been passed—and transformed—and “base” is no longer the glowing metaphor it once was.
It’s just a word.
Without pictures. [END]
—No, wait. I want to end by citing two entries from the New Oxford American Dictionary: "nonplussed" and "public school":
Nonplussed:
1 … PERPLEXED
USAGE In standard use, nonplussed means ‘surprised and confused’: the hostility of the new neighbor's refusal left Mrs. Walker nonplussed. In North American English, a new use has developed in recent years, meaning ‘unperturbed’—more or less the opposite of its traditional meaning: hoping to disguise his confusion, he tried to appear nonplussed. This new use probably arose on the assumption that non- was the normal negative prefix and must therefore have a negative meaning. It is not considered part of standard English.
Public school:
1 (chiefly in North America) a school supported by public funds.
2 (in the UK) a private for-fee secondary school. [I.e., the opposite meaning]
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Coming soon: On the adjective “psychic”
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As a fan of popular music, I am a fan of lyrics.
Let’s talk about the word.
“Lyrics,” I mean.
If I want to refer to the words of a particular song, I usually write or speak of the song’s lyric. (I'm aware of how strange that sounds to people; so, really, I waver on this, using "lyrics" frequently.)
Does my use of "lyric" surprise you?
I am now officially old and, as one who has seen and heard much, I can report a gradual shift in the use of the word “lyric/lyrics,” even in my lifetime. As a young person, I recall being corrected—I don’t recall who did the correcting—when I referred to a song’s “lyrics.”
“‘Lyric,’ not ‘lyrics,’” they said, authoritatively.
I vaguely recall being impressed by this authority, whoever it/she/he was. And so I mostly went along with that advice. And so, for the most part, I have referred to a song’s “lyric,” and thus to the “lyrics” on an album (i.e., many a lyric; hence lyrics, plural).
Still, it soon became obvious to me—even by the 1970s—that I had joined a shrinking minority. I was saying and thinking "lyric," but all I ever heard was "lyrics."
"Lyric" even sounded funny.
It sounds gravely funny today, and it’s not hard to find putative authorities correcting those who say “lyric.”
“‘Lyrics,’ not ‘lyric,” they say, authoritatively.
My issue with the use of “lyrics” instead of “lyric,” to the extent that I have one, is now clearly a case of “shoveling shite against the tide,” to use my late dad's favorite phrase.
* * *
Let's consult the Oxford English Dictionary, which is pretty dang authoritative about the use of English words. It paints the following picture: “lyric,” the adjective, was originally simply the adjectival form of “lyre,” the musical instrument. But, as always happens, things got complicated in the English language. Among other things, “lyric” eventually became a noun that referred to poets and singers and, well, the words of a song or poem.
OK, HERE’S THE THING. By the late 19th Century, it appears that speakers of the language used the word “lyric” to refer to the words of songs.
Actually, the OED provides this definition: “The words of a popular song; frequently plural.”
– That last part ("frequently plural") perhaps implies that, according to the OED, “lyric” and “lyrics” were used interchangeably back then.
But wait! In truth, most of the OED’s early examples of the use of the noun, starting 1876, involve “lyric,” not “lyrics.” Here are the first three:
1876 J. STAINER & W. A. BARRETT Dict. Musical Terms 276/2 Lyric, poetry or blank verse intended to be set to music and sung.
1927 Melody Maker Aug. 759/3 On July 8 Edgar Leslie, the prolific and most successful lyric writer in America, arrived in London.
1933 Punch 16 Aug. 180/3 The gramophone plunged fervently into that lyric called ‘I've Got a Date with an Angel’.
The first use of “lyrics” (plural) that the OED mentions is in 1934:
1934 C. LAMBERT Music Ho! IV. 272 The lowbrow poet—the type of writer who in the nineteenth century produced ‘Champagne Charlie’ and now produces revue lyrics.
So I’m guessing that, in the late 19th Century, “lyric” was the word used for the words of a song, but then, by the 1930s, “lyrics” started being used too.
Here are the rest of the OED entries; they seem to reveal a pattern:
1938 Oxf. Compan. Music 526/2 Another well-known poet constantly advertises himself in the British musical press as ‘Lyric Author…2,000 songs…not one failure to give great pleasure’.
1946 E. O'NEILL Iceman Cometh II. 150 They all join in a jeering chorus, rapping with knuckles or glasses on the table at the indicated spot in the lyric.
1958 Times 2 Aug. 7/4 Teenagers in Minneapolis, believing that the words of some ‘pop’ songs can encourage juvenile crime, have..‘opened a nation-wide “better lyrics” contest’.
1967 Listener 3 Aug. 130/1 Having introduced a new sound in the music, they saw that they had next to change the type of lyric.
1968 Listener 7 Nov. 610/1 According to Mick Farren, lyric-writer of the Deviants: ‘Pop music is..the last free medium.’
1972 Jazz & Blues Sept. 12/1 The banality of the lyrics.
1973 Listener 19 Apr. 522/1 The bo' weevil fugues..in blues lyrics.
I’m guessing, then, that the English language experienced a shift from the dominance of “lyric” in the late 19th Century to the dual use of "lyric/lyrics" by about the 1930s; and, in subsequent decades, the use of “lyric” slowly faded, replaced, especially since the 70s—that's when I stumbled onto the scene—with the use of “lyrics.”
* * *
Wikipedia—I know, I know—has a “lyrics” entry, including a section on “etymology,” which tends to confirm my guess:
"Lyric" derives via Latin lyricus from the Greek λυρικός (lyrikós), the adjectival form of lyre. It first appeared in English in the mid-16th century in reference to the Earl of Surrey's translations of Petrarch and to his own sonnets. Greek lyric poetry had been defined by the manner in which it was sung accompanied by the lyre or cithara, as opposed to the chanted formal epics or the more passionate elegies accompanied by the flute. The personal nature of many of the verses of the Nine Lyric Poets led to the present sense of "lyric poetry" but the original Greek sense of "lyric poetry"—"poetry accompanied by the lyre" i.e. "words set to music"—eventually led to its use as "lyrics", first attested in Stainer and Barrett's 1876 Dictionary of Musical Terms.
Stainer and Barrett used the word as a singular substantive: "Lyric, poetry or blank verse intended to be set to music and sung". By the 1930s, the present use of the plurale tantum [plural only] "lyrics" had begun; it has been standard since the 1950s for many writers. The singular form "lyric" is still used to mean the complete words to a song by authorities such as Alec Wilder, Robert Gottlieb, and Stephen Sondheim. However, the singular form is also commonly used to refer to a specific line (or phrase) within a song's lyrics.
If this is correct, it appears, then, that the person who corrected me 50 years ago was already shoveling shite—by which I mean, not that he was slinging crap, but that he was bucking a trend that was already decades old and approaching dominance.
If so, my present use of “lyric” is an instance of hyper- or super-trend buckery, aka abject fuddy-duddery. I may as well be referring to "palaver" or "lingo" or even "blarney."
On the other hand, I'm with Stephen Sondheim on this one. How uncool could that be?
* * *
NEXT TIME: if I hear one more kid say that X is "based off" of Y, I'm gonna scream.
STILL LATER: I remember when "begging the question" was an informal fallacy!
Houdini perhaps benefited from interest in Spiritualism;
but he became its chief debunker by the time that he died.
woo-woo:
noununconventional beliefs regarded as having little or no scientific basis, especially those relating to spirituality, mysticism, or alternative medicine….Adjectiverelating to or holding unconventional beliefs regarded as having little or no scientific basis, especially those relating to spirituality, mysticism, or alternative medicine…. (New Oxford American Dictionary)
The animating principle of the universe; = anima mundi n. Obsolete.
The mind, soul, or spirit, as distinguished from the body.
Psychical: (3) Of, relating to, or designating faculties or phenomena, such as telepathy and clairvoyance, that are apparently inexplicable by natural laws and are attributed by some to spiritual or supernatural agency; involving paranormal phenomena of the mind, parapsychological. [1836 - ]PSYCHIC, adj.3.a. = PSYCHICAL adj. 3. [1871 - ]
Interestingly, the noun “psychic,” referring to a practitioner or "manifester" of woo-woo, dates back to 1860:PSYCHIC adj. 1.1. Of, relating to, or generated by the human mind or psyche; psychological; mental. Also, of an illness or condition: psychogenic (now rare)….1845 Dublin Univ. Mag. Jan. 496/1 The nightmare..may indeed be a mere phantasm or psychic image.1873 W. WAGNER tr. W. S. Teuffel Hist. Rom. Lit. I. 422 In its refined descriptions of psychic events the poem recalls Virgil's manner.1883 Brit. Q. Rev. July 14 The varied stimuli, psychic and physical.1896 Alienist & Neurologist 17 520 Hysteria, is a constitutional psycho-neuropathy with morbid impulsions, caprices, delusions, hallucinations, and illusions, psychic and sensory. ¶1902 J. BUCHAN Watcher by Threshold II. 131 Among women his psychic balance was so oddly upset that he grew nervous and returned unhappy.1910 Jrnl. Abnormal Psychol. 5 68 I have successfully treated by Freud's psychoanalytic method cases of homosexuality, psychic impotence..and many other so-called perversions.1925 J. LAIRD Our Minds & their Bodies ii. 32 ‘Psychic’ tumours or false pregnancies have deceived skilled observers.1968 New Scientist 2 May 226/1 The so-called ‘psychic poisons’, capable of inducing temporary or even permanent insanity.1974 M. MENDELSON Psychoanalytic Concepts of Depression (ed. 2) vii. 254 Unlike the energy of science..psychic energy is directional.2004 D. BIRKSTED-BREEN et al. In Pursuit of Psychic Change vi. 106 His psychic life was dominated by this phantasy which was suffused with such hatred toward his sibling..that it had led to an unconscious belief that he had actually murdered him.
PSYCHIC. n.
B. n.
1.a. A person who is regarded as particularly susceptible to supernatural or paranormal influence; a medium; a clairvoyant.
1860 W. D. HOWELLS Let. 14 Nov. in Sel. Lett. (1979) I. 64 We talked chiefly about psychics... I am going largely into skepticism at present.
• In English, the noun “psyche” has long referred to the mind or soul, though esoteric theological meanings have come and gone.• The adjective “psychical” (17 Century) is older than the term “psychic,” which only emerged in the 19th Century.• The contemporary concept of “the psychic” (i.e., and adjective referring to woo-woo matters) emerged in the early 19th Century, though the term then used was “psychical,” not “psychic.” The term (adjective) “psychic” replaced “psychical” by the 1870s or perhaps a bit earlier (1860s?).• Given the emergence of the scientific experimental study called “psychology” (often viewed as formally commencing with Wundt in 1879), one naturally supposes that a noun, “psyche,” referring, not to the soul or spirit, but simply to the mind, has existed from at least that time. According to the OED, the term, with that constrained meaning, has existed since the mid-19th Century, as has the corresponding adjective "psychic."
Spiritualism, in religion, [is] a movement based on the belief that departed souls can interact with the living. Spiritualists sought to make contact with the dead, usually through the assistance of a medium, a person believed to have the ability to contact spirits directly....Modern spiritualism traces its beginnings to a series of apparently supernatural events at a farmhouse in Hydesville, N.Y., in 1848. The owner and his family, as well as the previous occupants of the house, had been disturbed by unexplained raps at night. After a severe disturbance, the owner’s youngest daughter, Kate Fox, was said to have successfully challenged the supposed spirit to repeat in raps the number of times she flipped her fingers. Once communication had apparently been established, a code was agreed upon by which the raps given could answer questions, and the spirit was said to have identified himself as a man who had been murdered in the house.The practice of having sittings for communication with spirits spread rapidly from that time, and in the 1860s it was particularly popular in England and France. Kate Fox (afterward Mrs. Fox-Jencken) and one of her sisters, Maggie Fox, devoted much of their later lives to acting as mediums in the United States and England. Many other mediums gave similar sittings, and the attempt to communicate with spirits by table turning (in which participants place their hands on a table and wait for it to vibrate or rotate) became a popular pastime in Victorian drawing rooms….…Spiritualism also inspired the rise of the discipline of psychic research to examine the claims made by mediums and their supporters. A variety of techniques were developed to study not only basic psychic experiences (telepathy, clairvoyance, and precognition) but the more complex phenomenon of spirit contact. By the end of the 19th century, significant efforts were being made to verify the phenomena of mediumship, especially the occasional materialization of spirit entities. ... Among the most prominent supporters of spiritualist claims was the chemist Sir William Crookes (1832–1919), a president of the Royal Society ..., who investigated and pronounced genuine the materialization phenomena produced by medium Florence Cook.Those who placed their hopes in physical phenomena, however, were destined for disappointment. One by one, the mediums were discovered to be engaged in fraud, sometimes employing the techniques of stage magicians in their attempts to convince people of their clairvoyant powers…. Spiritualism fared better in Britain, especially in the 1950s after the repeal of the witchcraft laws, which had been used against mediums quite apart from any charges of fakery....
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| The Fox sisters' home |
Today, "psychic research" has a bad name among scientists and academics—for good reason. But, during the era of Spiritualism (1840s-1920s), it was taken seriously by much of the population, especially members of the upper classes. I suppose we shouldn't be surprised that, when the woo-woo crowd blundered their way towards appropriation of the term "psychic," they might well succeed in "owning" the term, despite the remarkable successes of the scientifically minded in elevating psychology (the study of the psyche, i.e., the mind) to a science.
