As an LSAT instructor, I teach argument for a living, and because of that, I’ve become the most annoying Facebook friend ever. Rather than just jumping right into the NFL national anthem controversy, I’ve decided to use this issue as a test case for how to argue properly. This post is the fourth in a series, so click here for more background on the NFL national anthem debate, click here for an explanation of arguments and assumptions, or click here for a study on definitions. Today, we’ll look at two common ways people pivot and avoid the actual issues.

This happens in every political election, and it always gets under my skin: we attack a candidate’s character while overlooking her or his policies. Sadly, our country finds personal attacks (or “ad hominem arguments”) more entertaining and persuasive than discussing policy, which makes personal attacks an effective short-term tactic for swaying public opinion. Of course, I say “short-term” because a long-term reliance on ad hominem attacks will undermine your credibility in the eyes of the public and drive away potential allies. And let’s not forget: they’re flawed arguments anyway! Even the worst people can occasionally make good points, so discrediting the arguer is never enough to refute the argument itself. In the NFL national anthem debate, there’s one personal attack that just won’t go away:

Conclusion: Colin Kaepernick’s opinion on this doesn’t matter.
Evidence: He’s just a football player.

Note the particularly damaging assumption here: because of someone’s profession, that person’s opinion no longer matters. There are any number of invalid reasons to write off a person’s opinion, and one of the toughest parts about honest argument is acknowledging valid points from sources we might not like. How many times has an actor or musician spoken out on a political issue only to be written off with “You’re just a celebrity; what do you know?” This is not an honest rebuttal of the person’s argument; it’s just a way to write the arguer off. Of course, in the case of Kaepernick, we can take the “he’s just a football player” criticism in all sorts of twisted directions. For example:

Don’t listen to football players? The majority of football players are black, so aren’t you really saying we should ignore black people? Why don’t you just go ahead and admit you support police brutality and hate black people!?

For the record, the tirade above is not my actual stance; I’ve taken the original argument and created a “straw man.” A straw man is a caricature of a person’s argument, and it’s often so over-the-top that even the person you’re arguing with would likely disagree. Creating a straw man is a great way to vent your anger against a target who won’t fight back. You shift your outrage to a nonexistent extreme rather than the actual argument, and the person you’re talking to suddenly has to backpedal and explain their argument all over again. For example, imagine if two people would actually stop long enough to have this conversation:

Protester: Black Lives Matter!

Counter-Protester: Hey, wait a minute. It feels like you’re saying black lives matter more than white lives, and I can’t get on board with that argument. All lives matter, not only black lives.

Protester: Whoa, I never said white lives don’t matter. You’re fighting a straw man instead of addressing my actual point. I believe all lives matter too; you’d have to be a psychopath not to believe that. I’m just pointing out that black Americans are disproportionately affected by police violence, so racially-motivated policing tactics must change if we’re going to have a just and equal society. Back to your point, saying one group of people matter doesn’t mean other groups don’t; it just means this one particular group needs our immediate attention. I’m only out here saying “Black Lives Matter” because I want all lives to matter equally in the eyes of the law.

Counter-Protester: Oh. That actually makes perfect sense. Instead of debating whether “all lives matter,” let’s focus instead on your argument: whether current police tactics are in fact racist.

When you indulge in attacking straw men, no matter how satisfying it might feel, you lose the real argument. You are no longer engaging the person right in front of you or even debunking what they’re saying. This happens especially in the echo chamber of social media and with biased news pundits: in the absence of a real sparring partner with different views, people debate an imagined extreme version. And if you never engage anyone who might disagree with you, then you and your friends will find yourselves standing alone in a field of straw men.

I think we usually make these straw men by accident, but that doesn’t make their effect any less damaging. When you start to make assumptions about another person’s views, pause for a minute and let them explain what they really think, lest a straw man take shape. Asking frequent questions is a great way to make sure you’re really engaging people and not just their imaginary straw doppelgängers. And if the people you’re talking with respond to you with straw men or ad hominem attacks, ask questions to make them reflect on what they’re saying. Of course, if that doesn’t work, just walk away and let them rampage through the straw alone.

In an argument, it’s important to treat other viewpoints respectfully and accurately. This means being patient, asking questions, not putting words in other people’s mouths, and not making your responses personal. Stay focused on the issue at hand. If you pivot to a personal attack or a straw man, you’ll not only talk past each other, you’ll likely make future agreement impossible.

Tomorrow, we’ll dive into statistics. While numbers may not lie, the people who use them  most certainly do.