What’s Legal Not What’s Right

In today’s blog, I will briefly visit three subjects related in my mind: the phenomenon of false accusations, the informal fallacy known as “guilt by association,” and the utopian idea that courts, be they local, national, or international, staffed by humans can be consistently relied upon to render fair and equitable judgments. I will draw upon both personal history and world history, something that happened to me in Germany in the 1970s and a tragedy that occurred to a man in 16th-century England.

Are you ever falsely accused, for example, of thinking something you didn’t or saying something you never said, or of doing something you didn’t do or not doing something you did? How do you respond? Do you attempt to vindicate yourself or maintain a Stoic silence in the face of the wrong being done? In those cases where you are vindicated either by yourself or others, do your false accusers come to you afterwards to apologize, to ask for forgiveness, to make amends as best they can?

Let’s put the shoe on the other foot. Do you ever falsely accuse others? Once you learn the truth, do you go to the person you have damaged and apologize? Do you issue a public retraction? Do you seriously attempt to repair the damage done? In these times, the speed with which harmful misinformation can spread is amazing. A person’s reputation can be ruined overnight, their financial security put at risk, and even their lives put in danger. Do you justify to yourself not going to the victim, thinking that you merely passed on what others had shared with you, that the victim doesn’t know you, perhaps, or at least doesn’t know you had a role in spreading the false accusation, and so you just let matters drop?

When I was in the US Army, I was stationed in Germany. In the mornings, I would often take a bus from where we lived to the market square. The bus terminal was located just off the square and by the train station. From the market square, I would walk to my Army base. One morning, I noticed an American soldier coming out of the train station. I met up with him, greeted him, and asked him if he was headed to the Army base. He said yes, that it was his first day at his new duty station. I told him I was going there and we could walk together. We hadn’t gone far when he asked me where I was from. I said Jackson, Mississippi. That was the end of our conversation. He crossed the street without a word.

I was hurt and confused, at first. Someone who didn’t really know me judged me based on where I came from and nothing I had said or done. The new soldier automatically placed me in the category of a people, a place that he wanted nothing to do with. Sadly, I understood this. Later, in graduate school, I would study logic, both formal and informal, deductive and intuitive. It was only then that I began to better understand what had happened on a street in a small German town a few years earlier.

I want to suggest that the soldier’s behavior, his ending our conversation and crossing the street, was a result of his engaging in an informal fallacy, one called “guilt by association.” The fallacy occurs when someone assumes that a person has a particular characteristic simply because they are associated with a group that is thought to have that characteristic. In my case, the soldier seemed to have assumed that I was a bigot or perhaps an ignorant racist simply because I was from Mississippi, and he believed, falsely, that all Mississippians were bigots or racists. Here’s my attempt to put his argument into a formal structure.

1. (The soldier believes that) all Mississippians are bigots. (Association)
2. The soldier he is walking with is from Mississippi. (Association)
3. Therefore, the soldier he is walking with is a bigot. (Guilt by association)

Now, it’s interesting to note that while the soldier’s argument’s formal structure is valid in terms of classical syllogistic logic, it falls into the “guilt by association” informal fallacy. His reasoning was unfair as it attributed a negative characteristic to me solely based on my association with a group without any individual evidence or consideration. This kind of reasoning is flawed because it relies on a broad generalization about a group to pass judgment on an individual. 

The soldier’s thought process was not only a formal syllogism but also an informal fallacy due to its reliance on a prejudicial generalization. Unfortunately, this kind of flawed thinking is ubiquitous. What makes it attractive to certain people is that the structure of the formal argument is valid; that is, the conclusion follows from the premises. The problem is the prejudicial premises.

I want to turn now to a historical example of an instance where false accusations, fueled in part by guilt by association coupled with a belief in the justice of the law, resulted in the death of a saint, the Roman Catholic Saint Thomas More.

From 1529-1532, More (1478-1535) served as Lord Chancellor of England under Henry VIII. He soon fell out of favor with the King, however, because of his opposition to Henry’s desire to divorce his wife and marry Anne Boleyn, separate the Church of England from the Roman Catholic Church, and specify the King of England as the church’s head in England. More had trained as a lawyer and was, as many lawyers are, extremely careful in his use of words. When he refused to bend to the King’s will, he was imprisoned. In Robert Bolt’s play, A Man for All Seasons, More expresses his belief that law, human law, is his refuge and his safety from Henry. For, after all, he is innocent! Here’s a discussion he holds with his future son-in-law about his devotion to the law. The conversation occurs following the departure of a man named Richard Rich. More’s wife Alice, daughter Margaret, and future son-in-law Robert Roper enter the room. They all admonish More to arrest Richard Rich. He declines. Then, he holds an intense discussion with Roper. He begins by stating that his reliance on the law is not sophistication but rather simplicity.

Roper Sophistication upon sophistication! 

More No, sheer simplicity. The law, Roper, the law. I know what’s legal not what’s right. And I’ll stick to what’s legal. 

Roper Then you set Man’s law above God’s! 

More No far below; but let me draw your attention to a fact – I’m not God. The currents and eddies of right and wrong, which you find such plain-sailing, I can’t navigate, I’m no voyager. But in the thickets of the law, oh there I’m a forester. I doubt if there’s a man alive who could follow me there, thank God. … (He says this to himself.) 

Alice (exasperated, pointing after Rich) While you talk, he’s gone! 

More And go he should if he was the devil himself until he broke the law!

Roper So now you’d give the Devil benefit of law! 

More Yes. What would you do? Cut a great road through the law to get after the Devil? 

Roper I’d cut down every law in England to do that! 

More (roused and excited) Oh? (Advances on Roper.) And when the last law was down, and the Devil turned round on you where would you hide, Roper, the laws all being flat? (Leaves him.) This country’s planted thick with laws from coast to coast – Man’s laws, not God’s—and if you cut them down – and you’re just the man to do it – d’you really think you could stand upright in the winds that would blow then? (Quietly.) Yes, I’d give the Devil benefit of law, for my own safety’s sake. 

Bolt, Robert. A Man For All Seasons (Modern Classics) (pp. 41-42). Bloomsbury Publishing. Kindle Edition. 

In the end, Rich perjures himself, so history tells us, and his perjury led to More’s execution. A false accusation, driven by greed, envy, and perhaps, to some extent, by More’s devout Catholicism, led to More’s death. The law, the very system he thought would protect him, turned out to be an unfaithful shepherd, a tool of power and prejudice.

From our earthly perspective, Roper seems to have had the better idea. But then, it was More, the author of Utopia, who was made a saint.

I recite a prayer before retiring at night. I want to share part of it with you. The translation is by Philip Birnbaum and taken from his Siddur, Daily Prayer Book.

Lord of the world, I forgive any person who has provoked me or wronged me, whether physically or financially; or anyone who has offended me or mine, whether accidentally or willfully, erringly or maliciously, by speech or by deed, here or elsewhere; I forgive every human being, and let no human being undergo punishment because of me.

My experience has been that the consistent recitation of these words helps me obtain a good night’s rest.

All the best,
Gershon