We talk every day — haggling, bantering, praying, debating on X — but how many of us have actually learned how to argue well? In this essay, Obinna unpacks the logical fallacies that shape Nigerian discourse, from hasty generalisations about men to circular defences of faith, and makes the case that good conversation is an art we owe ourselves.
Conversations are part of us. I believe they make us human. To me, they are a necessary aspect of our existence and lived experiences. People converse through spoken and written words. The offering of greetings between children and their parents is, in my view, a conversation. The sharp yet light haggling over the price of a commodity between a buyer and a seller is a conversation. A boring and interminable lecture within the four walls of a classroom is also a conversation. Football banter is a conversation. Saying a word of prayer is a conversation, albeit between a man and his God. Like breath and breathing, I believe humans cannot live without conversing daily. To me, it plays an indispensable role in living.
Yet, it seems that we are not as concerned with how conversations should be made as we are with conversing itself. This is only my observation; I do not claim it as a universal truth.
When a child is born, I understand that it is naturally expected for him or her to grow. And with that growth comes the requirement of speech. From what I have seen, what worries parents most during infancy is the speech of their children, which serves as an indicator of growth itself. Then, the concern evolves into how well words are pronounced. After that stage is passed, and speaking becomes the norm, just as walking is, there is an assumption that knowing how to construct words suffices for life. But in the grand scheme of things, I believe conversations go beyond that. At least, good conversations do.
A good conversation is attributed to healthy arguments, but not always. As it applies to this discourse, I define a good conversation as one in which we can both agree and disagree, since our perspectives about life differ.
Some people grow up in riverine areas where fish is a staple. So they might believe a fish-based meal is better than a meat-based one. Conversely, for people in landlocked communities full of herders, meat is synonymous with a wholesome diet. Therefore, to them, anyone who believes otherwise is wrong.
I see our varying beliefs, from which our arguments ensue, as a function of culture, geography, and exposure, to mention a few. Overall, I consider it each man’s unique culture. This is why I believe aligning perspectives might be an impossible task, regardless of the angle from which it is viewed.
Unfortunately, arguments made by some Nigerians, whether on air or in day-to-day conversations, pay little attention to the significance of these elements. Worse still, I find that many lack logic and reasoning.
This does not surprise me, because I believe many are oblivious to the philosophy of arguments. To me, the destination of effective conversation is not at the fluidity of speech; rather, that is only the starting point. I see a healthy argument, in our context, as something that makes our conversations whole.
In other words, I believe a wholesome conversation can still emerge from arguments that are poorly made. As I said earlier, I do not consider arguments, like conversations, to be bad in and of themselves. I think it only depends on how people make them and how they are structured.
I have also observed a category of people who, worse still, inherently attribute negativity to arguments. I consider this to be false.
Identifying logical fallacies in arguments is not rocket science. I believe all it takes is recognizing that conversation is an art and deserves to be learned.
In reading T. Edward’s Attacking Faulty Reasoning and Bo Bennett’s Logically Fallacious, I gained exposure to the principles of forming good arguments, which I will be sharing shortly.
But before then, I think it is important to state that these fallacies are only a few of the most common ones I have encountered in my day-to-day conversations in Nigeria. It is their recurrent impact and enduring presence that has compelled me to address them this way.
As an ardent Twitter (now X) user, I am often appalled by the uncontrollable surge of these fallacies in tweets, even from those whose content is meant to promote logical reasoning.
If anything, this reveals to me that conversing logically is not an art conferred by formal education, at least not entirely, but by intentional learning.
I equate the philosophy of arguments to rare earth minerals, only available to those who actively seek them out. At other times, I notice these fallacies woven into tweets, trends, or banter.
It is therefore imperative, to identify them, because I believe that is the first step toward conversing well.
This happens when a broad conclusion is drawn from insufficient or unrepresentative evidence. The human brain naturally looks for patterns, so we often jump from a few cases to sweeping conclusions.
“I met two rude taxi drivers today, so all taxi drivers are rude.”
I often see this fallacy when ladies describe their experiences with men on Twitter. They equate terrible experiences with a few men, perhaps two, three, or even ten, with the general behaviour of all men, which I believe is not representative of the global population.
I think this fallacy often stems from cognitive bias, especially availability bias, which makes us judge reality based on what we have recently seen or experienced.
I find that this is often persuasive because it simplifies reality. Instead of dealing with complexity, it offers a quick and confident conclusion.
Before becoming the culprit, I think one should ask:
“Is this enough evidence to make such a broad claim?”
As the claimant, I believe the burden of proof lies in seeking missing data or counterexamples.
As the respondent, I would dismantle it by demanding a larger, more representative sample, introducing counterexamples, or replacing absolutes with probabilities.
I see this fallacy as one that assumes a lack of evidence equals proof. To me, it unfairly shifts the burden of proof and reflects a lazy method of arguing.
“No one has proven ghosts don’t exist, so they must be real.”
This fallacy exploits the gap between “unknown” and “known”. It treats ignorance as certainty. It is often linked to conspiracy thinking, where a lack of evidence is interpreted as hidden truth.
It misuses science’s lack of proof to justify false conclusions.
I think it is persuasive because people are uncomfortable with uncertainty, so they prefer a definite conclusion, even if it is unsupported. However, I maintain that the absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence.
Before becoming the culprit, I would ask: Does a lack of evidence mean this is true?
As the respondent, I would remind the speaker that claims require evidence, not just the absence of contradiction. I would reinforce that the burden of proof lies on the claimant and emphasize that lack of evidence is not evidence of truth.
I understand this fallacy as one that relies on the manipulation of emotions rather than logical reasoning. Instead of offering evidence, the speaker attempts to trigger feelings, pity, fear, anger, or pride, to gain agreement.
“If you don’t support this policy, innocent people will suffer terribly.”
This fallacy is common in political discourse on Twitter. People often prefer scoring emotional points over engaging in rational analysis of governance issues.
Many political arguments begin and end with emotional appeals. While I do not consider emotion inherently bad, in this case, it replaces reasoning rather than supporting it.
It is persuasive because emotions can override critical thinking. People make feelings-based decisionsand then try to use logic to justify them.
Before becoming the culprit, I would ask: Am I relying solely on emotion, or is there evidence supporting the claim?
As the respondent, I would separate feelings from facts and ask for evidence that supports the claim.
I see this fallacy as one that attacks a person’s situation, background, or motive instead of addressing their argument. To me, it confuses source credibility with argument validity.
“Of course he supports that policy, he’s rich, so it benefits him.”
I observe this frequently in Nigerian political discourse. The credibility of business tycoons who support government policies is often dismissed through this fallacy.
People who commit this error rarely recognize it. I recall when debates on abortion were intense, and a woman dismissed opposing views simply because they came from men.
I think this appears persuasive because it undermines credibility, leading the audience to dismiss the argument without evaluating it.
Before becoming the culprit, I would ask: Shouldn’t I evaluate the argument itself, not the person making it?
As the respondent, I would separate the speaker from the argument and ask whether the argument stands on its own merit.
I understand this as a situation where the conclusion merely restates the premise, creating the illusion of explanation without providing independent support.
“This law is just because it is the right thing to do.”
Beyond this example, I often observe this fallacy in religious discussions. In defending God or religious principles, I have seen some believers base conclusions on premises that simply restate the same idea.
This results in circular logic. I consider it a lazy way of defending truths and one that can reveal superficial understanding.
To me, it sounds persuasive because it appears logically structured, but it is essentially empty repetition.
Before becoming the culprit, I would ask: “What independent evidence supports this conclusion?”
As the respondent, I would request external evidence and check whether the conclusion stands independently of the premise.
This fallacy misrepresents someone’s argument to make it easier to attack. It thrives in debates where winning matters more than understanding.
Person A: “We should reduce homework.”
Person B: “So you want students to learn nothing at all?”
This distorts and weakens the original argument giving the other party an opportunity to attack. Many Nigerians are guilty of this, often unknowingly.
When unable to engage with the actual argument, they reduce it to something easier to defeat.
It is persuasive because it simplifies the opponent’s position, making it easier to discredit.
Before becoming the culprit, I would ask: Am I misrepresenting the argument to make it easier to attack?
As the respondent, I would restate my position clearly: “That’s not my claim; here is what I actually mean.” Then I would insist on engagement with the real argument.
This fallacy is one that introduces irrelevant information to distract from the main issue.
“We shouldn’t worry about pollution because unemployment is a bigger problem.”
I have seen people argue that exam malpractice should not be addressed because unemployment is a more pressing issue. While both may be important, I believe one does not invalidate the other.
To me, this fallacy does not attempt to prove anything; it merely diverts attention.
I think it is persuasive because it shifts focus, especially when the new topic is emotionally charged or easier to discuss.
Before becoming the culprit, I would ask: Am I derailing from the main issue?
As the respondent, I would redirect the discussion: “That’s a different issue, let’s stay on the original point.”
This fallacy is the claim that something is true or right simply because many people believe it.
“Everyone is buying this product, so it must be the best.”
This is rooted in social proof, a powerful psychological force. It thrives in social media trends, cultural norms, and peer pressure environments.
People who fall for this confuse quantity with quality.
It is persuasive because humans are social beings; we tend to trust the majority and view minority positions as less credible.
Before becoming the culprit, I would ask: Am I relying on popularity instead of evidence?
As the respondent, I would ask: “Does popularity equal correctness?” I would remind them that truth is not determined by majority vote.
I see this fallacy as one that presents only two options when more alternatives exist.
“You either study medicine or you will never be successful.”
I observe that this reduces complex situations to binary choices, ignoring other possibilities. It is, in my experience, one of the most common fallacies.
On X, I have seen users employ it to drive engagement by presenting extreme opposing views.
In reality, I believe multiple options usually exist.
I think it is persuasive because it forces a choice and creates pressure, making one option seem inevitable.
Before becoming the culprit, I would ask: Am I limiting the discussion to only two options?
As the respondent, I would point out alternatives: “There are more than two options here.” I would highlight the spectrum of possibilities.
While many more fallacies exist in Nigerian conversations, I am confident that addressing these is both necessary and foundational to developing sound arguments. I believe avoiding these pitfalls begins with a willingness to engage in thoughtful reasoning and to pursue healthy conversations.
Free · Weekly · Unsubscribe any time
Comments
No comments yet — be the first to share your thoughts.