With the recent release of the third installment of the Fifty Shades of Grey series there has been considerable consternation about what effect the film (and its predecessors) will have on the public. A Christian Science Monitor story by Gloria Goodale explained “How ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ Is Contributing to Shift in Norms on Sexuality,” for example, and a hilariously scathing review of the new film appeared on Pajiba.com and went viral, headlined “’50 Shades Freed’ Is an Ignorant, Poisonous Anti-Feminist Hate Anthem.” Dozens of other blogs and articles make similar claims, though they do not seem to have dampened its audience’s ardor: the new film has brought in nearly $270 million to date.
The missing logical link in these stories is in what in argumentation is called a warrant. It’s a principle or chain of reasoning connecting a premise to a conclusion. For example in the statement “I see the freeway is packed, so we’re probably going to miss our flight,” the warrant is that traffic congestion will delay passengers getting to the airport on time. This may or may not be true–for example the traffic may clear up shortly, or the flight might also be delayed–but the warrant offers a reason or logical rationale linking a claim to its conclusion.
Often the warrant is implied, such as “Four out of five doctors use our brand of pain reliever.” The warrant is that most doctors would use one brand over another because of its quality or efficacy. Again, this may or may not be true; the doctors might use one the brand because it’s cheaper than its competitors (or free from the pharmaceutical company) though no more effective. Understanding warrants is crucial to determining whether an argument or claim is logically sound or reasonable.
People often cloak their disagreement or displeasure over a piece of work (a film, book, cartoon, etc.) with an assertion that it is not merely personally distasteful or offensive but in fact dangerous to society. Most people understand that merely saying “I don’t like this film” is, quite rightly, likely to be met with a response along the lines of, “Thanks for expressing your opinion.” In order to have that opinion carry more weight and garner public support, the critic often goes a step further to assert that the object of their scorn is a threat to public health or morals. It is a form of fearmongering, a technique used by manipulators for millennia. Sometimes it’s a president stoking fears of Muslim or immigrant terrorists; other times it’s a conservative media watchdog group complaining that, for example, Teen Vogue is encouraging America’s teens to engage in anal sex. And so on.
This pearl-clutching is nothing new, of course. Parents have been concerned about the harmful effects of pastimes and entertainment for centuries. Blaming entertainment media is an old tradition-in fact when Jack the Ripper was active in 1880s London, violence in the play The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was blamed for inspiring the serial murders. And the family game Twister was famously derided as “sex in a box” by a competitor who diligently (if self-interestedly) warned the public about this immoral game.
This is, however, where a line becomes crossed because the critic is then in the position of making a factual claim and should offer evidence for that claim. Saying you don’t like chocolate ice cream (or rap music, pornography, or anything else) merely expresses an inviolable, unfalsifiable personal preference which cannot be challenged based on any evidence: If you don’t like it, you don’t like it. End of story.
For more see my CFI blog, HERE!