Don't argue about things that are 'basically' true
At least, not if you're trying to win people over
I know I’m going to get some stick from my more pedantic readers1 for using the words ‘basically true’ to describe things that are, not to put to fine a point on it, false. So bear with me here.
And before we move on, thank you to those who’ve already submitted questions for my Ask me Anything: 500 subscribers edition - and for those who’ve been meaning to, you’ve still got a couple of days to get one in before I answer them.
‘Basically’ true?
What do I mean by ‘basically true’? I suppose I could have said ‘directionally true’, or ‘approximately true’, but neither of those quite capture it. What I mean is statements where the precision of the main statement isn’t important, but represents an underlying statement that is true.
For example, let’s imagine there’s a news story about Richie Moneybags, a wealthy American, who is buying a string of flats in central London. A friend says to you, ‘It’s appalling that we allow foreign billionaires to buy up property like this’ - a statement you disagree with.
An entirely counterproductive way to respond, if you want to persuade them of your point of view, would be to reply, ‘Richie Moneybags isn’t a billionaire: he’s only worth $920m.’ You’d be missing the point: the salient fact of the statement is not whether Moneybags is a billionaire, but whether or not rich foreigners should be allowed to buy property. Though technically wrong, the initial statement is ‘basically’ right in all the ways that matter: a very rich foreigner is buying property.
Of course, I’m not saying never query or critique the basic facts. There are lots of individuals and organisations whose raison d’etre is about making sure the facts are accurate: this is a valuable and socially useful task. We need people to find out what’s true! So if you’re a fact checker, writing a factual piece, updating a reference guide, or for any other reason trying to measure something accurately - please do so. Similarly, if you’re not interested in persuading someone, but just enjoy having precise and accurate conversations2, then by all means debate it. But if you’re actively trying to persuade someone to your point of view then think before you quibble.
This may seem a statement of the obvious: that to persuade someone you need to engage with their main point, not get into debate about the details. But it’s amazing how often people - even people for whom persuading people is their main job - fall into this trap. Let’s look at three examples, from widely divergent political perspectives, where this has happened.
‘We send the EU £350 million a week - let’s fund our NHS instead.’
There are many reasons to dispute this number, including the fact that it didn’t include our rebate (c. £100m a week, which we got straight back), or the fact that the UK also received funding back on various programmes - meaning that £350m couldn’t have simply been diverted to the NHS3.
Arguing about this, however, would be unlikely to persuade anyone who thought we sent too much money to the EU. Even if you were entirely successful, and persuaded them of the net figure minus rebate, or the net figure minus sums received back, all you’d have done is reinforced the truth that we sent billions of pounds to the EU every year.
Despite this, Remain advocate after Remain advocate could not resist using valuable time and words to insist that the £350m a week figure was not right.
Rather than nitpicking about the precise amount sent per week, more fruitful approaches to persuade someone of the case for staying in the EU might be to make arguments about the positive benefits of the EU to Britain, to argue that the money was less than the economic benefit to the economy of being in the EU, to make a broader case about the benefits of international cooperation and standing up to China or Russia4.
‘More than 41,110 people have since been killed in Gaza, according to the territory's Hamas-run health ministry.’
There are many reasons to dispute this number, including the fact that it doesn’t distinguish between combatants and non-combatants, the fact that many governments5 will lie about their casualty figures to gain an advantage in war, or the inherent unlikeliness of being able to produce daily casualty figures correct to five significant figures in a war zone.
Arguing about this, however, would be unlikely to convince anyone who thought that Israel was in the wrong in the current Middle East conflict. Even if you were entirely successful, and persuaded them that the correct number of civilians killed was 30,000, or 20,000, or whatever it really is, all you’d have done is reinforced the truth that a large number of civilians have been killed in Gaza.
Any person with an ounce of humanity must acknowledge that the civilian lives lost in Gaza are a tragedy, and that a lasting peace is the only desirable outcome, even if they are not sure what that peace would look like, or how to achieve it.
Rather than nitpicking about the precise number of civilian casualties, more fruitful approaches to persuade someone that Israel is in the right might be to talk about the reasons it could be considered a just war following the Hamas attack on Israel of October 7th, to share other examples of how urban warfare has resulted in high numbers of deaths, particularly when civilians cannot flee, or to point out that Hamas could end the war at any time by releasing the hostages and surrendering6.
‘Labour will end the VAT exemption and business rates relief for private schools, raising £1.7 billion’7
There are many reasons to dispute this number, including the fact that we don’t know how many children would transfer to state schools (both reducing the revenue raised and creating an additional call on government spending), the fact that political parties tend to be optimistic about this sort of claim, and that other organisations, such as the independent Institute for Fiscal Studies, have estimated the amount raised to be lower.
Arguing about this, however, would be unlikely to persuade anyone who thought private schools should be taxed. Even if you were entirely successful, and persuaded them of that the actual figure raised was £1.5bn, or £1.2bn, or £0.9bn, all you’d have done is reinforced the truth that it would raise a decent chunk of money8.
Nevertheless, an endless series of right-wing commentators took to the air to try to argue that the actual sum raised would not actually be £1.7bn but some lesser figure, thereby repeatedly drawing attention to one of their opponents’ most popular policies9.
Rather than nitpicking about the precise amount that would be raised, more fruitful approaches to persuade someone that adding VAT to school fees was a bad idea might be to talk about the inherent unfairness of taxing people again when they were already paying twice for their children’s education, to highlight sympathetic cases, such as disabled children or the armed forces children, who might have to transfer, or to argue that this would have a negative impact on children currently in the state sector due to overcrowded classrooms10.
So you’re saying let incorrect facts go unchallenged?
No.
I’m saying let incorrect facts go unchallenged IFF11 your principal goal is to persuade someone of something AND if the incorrect fact is ‘basically’ true.
If your goal is about establishing and promulgating true facts, then knock yourself out. That’s a great thing to! But don’t kid yourself that what you’re doing is effective persuasion.
Nor is this an excuse to use incorrect facts yourself. Ideally, we should all be using facts that are correct. But if someone isn’t, persuading them - or the people they are trying to influence - means focusing on the crux of the issue, not the details that won’t change their mind.
How do I know if it’s ‘basically’ true?
As a rule of thumb, I’d suggest if the original figure can be replaced by an approximate phrase, without any loss of rhetorical impact, then it’s ‘basically’ true.
So, ‘we send hundreds of millions of pounds a year to the EU’; ‘tens of thousands have died’; ‘will raise about a billion’.
I prefer this rule of thumb to any more rigorous rule. But having said that, here are three occasions when something is probably not ‘basically’ true:
If it’s really really wrong; for example, if someone suggests that halving MP’s salaries could make a significant dent in the annual budget deficit.
If the directionality flips12. There is often a material difference between a claim that tariffs will save consumers money and a claim that they will cost consumers money.
If what it is being compared to matters. For example, if someone supports a tidal barrage because it is cheaper than an alternative wind farm project, even a 30% error could make it more than expensive than the wind farm.
Ultimately, it’s a judgement call, just as the decision as to whether you’re more interested in persuasion or in establishing facts. There’s a time and place for both - and sometimes they even come together. But if you’re principally out to persuade, find what matters - and don’t argue about things that are ‘basically’ true.
Before we leave, a reminder that there is still time to submit questions for my Ask me Anything: 500 subscribers edition - and if you’ve enjoyed it, do share this post: I rely on word of mouth for my audience.
You know who you are.
Hello again.
Though it should be noted that we do now spend well over £350m a week more, in real terms, per week on the NHS than we did in 2016. It just hasn’t all come from our EU budget contributions.
Anyone leaping into to critique any of these claims has entirely missed the point of this post.
Even ones that are not proscribed terror organisations.
See note four.
It should be noted that Labour ultimately used the figure of £1.5 billion - the upper end of the IFS’s estimate - in their manifesto.
In addition, most people who support the tax also think it would be better if fewer people went to private schools, so even if you persuade them it will raise less money because lots of people will switch, they won’t care. It’s win/win, from their perspective.
The policy had a net positive popularity amongst almost every demographic, including 2019 Conservative voters.
See note six.
If and only if.
Contrast with ‘Ifff’ (If and only iff; i.e. If and only if and only if); Iffff (If and only ifff; i.e. If and only if and only if and only if); or Iffffffffff (If and only Ifffffffff; i.e. If and only if and only if and only if and only if and only if and only if and only if and only if and only if).
Though not always!
Very good advice, and I am in the target audience.
I have a strong temptation to do this even when I do agree with the person's main point! I took an embarrassingly long time to learn that people tend to take this as implying disagreement with their main point, even if I meant no such thing. Like (as a bit of a contrived example) if someone says the Nazis killed 8 million Jews, I might reflexively say "6 million" (or have to try very hard not to), and I used not to realise that people would mistake that for defending the Nazis or suggesting they weren't as bad as you thought.
A wise person helped me understand that nitpicking is a skill that can be deployed in certain situations where it's useful (e.g. programming, proofreading) and turned off in other situations where it's not.
Significant debt -> dent
I have no idea what you mean when you talk about having a pedantic audience.