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The most outrageous conspiracy theories now reach and influence mainstream politics. Gut instinct, and just plain prejudice, are now rapidly replacing evidence to drive the most drastic actions at the very heart of our democracy. It seems like flawed reasoning has become something of a popular trend.
One of the things that makes this all so hard to cope with is that untrue and irrational arguments are presented in seemingly rational clothing. We get the appearance of carefully reasoned arguments, but based on inaccurate information, unsupported assertions, and logical fallacies. And we find it not just in Right wing populism, or in the more radical fringes of the Left. Most smaller, more specific communities and subcultures have their own unhealthy relationships with flawed thinking. This includes the disability community, both from outside and within.
One bizarre example is the recent social media trend of “debunking” the accomplishments of well-known deaf and blind activist Hellen Keller. The core argument seems to be that Keller’s accomplishments were not her own, but instead engineered by others. It’s an idea based on a mix of unmoored skepticism and pure ableism. Since it seems so amazing that Helen Keller did so much, (or so the argument goes), maybe common sense tells us that she really didn’t after all. What exactly we are supposed to think from there is a bit of a mystery. This sudden impulse to “go after” an almost universally admired figure in disability history is perhaps easy to dismiss, like belief in a “Flat Earth.” However, recent events suggest that we ignore this kind of thing at our peril, including when it comes from or affects the disability community.
Disability thinking and discourse have for a long time been especially plagued by two common but harmful logical fallacies – sometimes known as “No True Scotsman” and “Zero Sum Thinking.” They each have an understandable appeal, and some slight basis in real-life disability experience. But they are inherently flawed, divisive, and corrosive. And they are important not only for disabled people to recognize, but for non-disabled observers and allies, too.
“No True Scotsman”
The ThoughtCo website explains:
“The name "No True Scotsman" comes from an odd example involving Scotsmen:
‘Suppose I assert that no Scotsman puts sugar on his porridge. You counter this by pointing out that your friend Angus likes sugar with his porridge. I then say "Ah, yes, but no true Scotsman puts sugar on his porridge.’”
First someone states a broad generalization or prejudiced assumption about a group. Next, someone else counters by pointing out people who don’t fit the stereotype. Then, the person defending the stereotype responds by declaring the counter-examples are actually not a real part of the group, thereby leaving the stereotype unbreached. It’s similar to another common fallacy – “moving the goalposts.”
So how does this formulation play out in discussions about disability?
The most common instance has to do with who is and isn’t considered “truly,” “significantly,” or “severely” disabled, and by extension, who can and can’t authentically represent the disability community. Here the conflict is typically between a disabled advocate and some variety of skeptic or opponent of something the advocate stands for.
For example, the disabled advocate insists that equal opportunity, meaningful choices, and civil rights under law should apply to all disabled people, not just people with certain disabilities that are regarded as “milder” or “less severe.”
A skeptic of this idea replies that while they support general disability rights principles, they don’t believe they can be fully applicable to people with certain disabilities that they believe make a person unable to exercise full rights and liberties.
The advocate answers by pointing out that they themselves are disabled, and fully capable of exercising basic human rights.
The skeptic counters that the very fact that the disabled advocate is able to articulate sophisticated ideas about disability rights and policies proves that they aren’t truly disabled, and therefore lack standing to comment on what’s good and right for other disabled people.
These exchanges sound something like this:
Skeptic – “Really disabled people can’t take care of themselves or fully and responsibly exercise the same rights and freedoms others take for granted.”
Advocate – “But I’m disabled and I am able to take care of myself and exercise freedom responsibly.”
Skeptic – “Yes, you are. And good for you! But you’re not truly disabled.”
Arguments like this happen all the time in disability discourse, but maybe most often regarding autism. Autistic advocates who are able to speak, organize, and engage in effective advocacy for the rights of autistic people are often dismissed as not being genuinely autistic, or of being such a fundamentally different kind or “level” of autistic that their views and principles don’t apply. Instead of readjusting their idea of autism to allow for more competence and personal agency, these critics redefine autism to exclude and discredit inconvenient exceptions to their stereotypical views.
In an NBC “Today” story, newly elected autistic Pennsylvania Representative Jessica Bentham says:
“People will say, ‘Not everyone can be like you,’ … We have to change who we value and who we assign value to. I am not more valuable as a state representative than a kid who needs to communicate with an iPad.”
Essentially, Bentham is talking about how the “No True Scotsman” argument is used to discount or delegitimize autistic people who achieve certain markers of conventional success or capability. Rather than celebrated, their successes are used to sever them from other autistic people, or outright deny that they are autistic in any meaningful way.
This also happens a lot with people who have other intellectual and developmental disabilities. Such disabled people are still often presumed to be incompetent. Those who seem to present as more competent than expected, and who therefore undermine the original stereotype, are defined out of the equation. It’s a neat bit of rhetorical cheating.
“No True Scotsman” in disability discourse also undermines, minimizes, and delegitimizes the disability experience of the people excluded by it. It’s a frequent and frankly galling way that non-disabled people in particular impose their own definitions of who is and isn’t disabled.
But this is more than simply annoying. It is harmful. Arguments like this are regularly used to justify disability policies and practices that might otherwise be regarded as outdated and overly restrictive – like subminimum wages, sheltered workshops, and residential facilities where disabled people’s lives are closely regulated and supervised.
Of course, “No True Scotsman” can also be a way for some disabled people to exclude other disabled people from membership in the community, or deny them disability rights and recognition. In either case, it’s a rhetorical tactic used to control how disability is defined.
Sometimes it’s sincere, reflecting actual experiences or beliefs about the diversity of disability experiences. Different people with different disabilities really do need to be treated individually, and one approach isn’t always exactly right for every disabled person. But this argument is most often used as an intentional tool for survival in situations perceived to be competitive.
This instinct to regulate and exclude in the disability community is also fed by another common philosophical concept that might be considered something of a fallacy, the habit of ...
“Zero Sum Thinking”
You’ve probably heard the phrase “Zero Sum” before, but what does it mean? The Goalcast website offers an workable definition:
“Zero-sum thinking, or zero-sum bias, is a cognitive bias used to describe when a person believes that a situation is a matter of win-lose or loss-gain. In other words, they believe one person’s loss is another person’s gain.”
Simply put, “Zero Sum” is a habit of thinking that assumes that any gain for one person or group requires a loss by another. As the familiar phrase goes, “One person’s gain is another’s loss.”
It’s all based on the assumption of scarcity – that good things are always in limited supply, and must be fought for and won between competing parties. The other side of this argument is that cooperation among similar groups with similar needs is of very rare and limited use, and that championing such cooperation is naive idealism.
“Zero Sum Thinking” is more of an instinct than a formal system of thought or strategy. Nor is it technically a logical fallacy, or always entirely false. Scarcity is often quite real, as is competition between equally justified groups for a seemingly limited supply of resources and attention. The problem isn’t that resources are never scarce, or that people and organizations never have to compete with each other. The problem is the tendency to view all situations involving goals and needs as competitive, and all collaboration as futile.
Sadly, it’s not at all hard to find “Zero Sum Thinking” in disability culture and practice.
To start with, there are constant conflicts between disability-related sub-groups, which are themselves defined and redefined not by objective reality, but mainly to satisfy rhetorical and competitive needs. For one thing, there is an enduring low-grade tug of war between “severely” disabled people and other “less disabled” people for real and perceived access to resources and public attention. And despite the growth of cross-disability organizations seeking to serve people with all disabilities, disability-specific groups still forge ahead with their own roughly parallel agendas. And there is still plenty of misunderstanding, conflict, and competition between people with physically, cognitively, sensory, learning, and mental health disabilities, as well as people with chronic pain and chronic illness.
Meanwhile, even when it is more united, the disability community itself can’t seem to stop measuring its own power and social status by comparing its perceived position with that of other marginalized groups. The argument here is that disabled people are uniquely neglected and powerless in society, while “other minorities” seem to get much more attention, sympathy, and resources. Neither side of this argument stands up to scrutiny. But the implication is that disabled people need to fight for resources and attention against other “minorities,” rather than collaborate with them. In effect, freedom, opportunity, respect, and self-sufficiency are seen as prizes to be won in competition, not rights to be vindicated together, for all.
“Zero Sum Thinking” may be the greatest single barrier to broad-based cooperation among people with all disabilities, between the organizations that represent them, and with all who seek freedom and equality. While it does reflect certain realities that need to be acknowledged and dealt with squarely, “Zero Sum Thinking” utterly fails by diverting us from making reality better than it is. And in the disability sphere especially, it distracts us from fully appreciating everything that we as disabled people all face and deserve in common, how much our communities overlap with each other already, and how much we have to gain by working together and defending each others’ rights.
It’s important for all of us to be on alert for these faulty, harmful arguments in disability discourse. We don’t have to totally disqualify them, but we do need to be aware of their flawed underpinnings and their damaging effects. The world today is full enough of irrationality and broken reasoning. We in the disability community should neither add to it or tolerate them.
