Suggested response: "Wow! This is a philosophical breakthrough of Aristotelian – no, Fregean! – proportions! Have you informed the logicians that there’s now a brand new ‘fourth way’ to refute an argument? No longer must one point out either (a) an ambiguous term, (b) an invalid inference, such as a known logical fallacy, or (c) a false premise; ladies and gentlemen, introducing (d): “it’s complicated!”
We can call it the “Fear of Commitment” retort – for the logically promiscuous folks who just like to casually “get around” with various single premises without ever entering into an official relationship with any conclusion. Your most common user of this rejection has usually “been around the block” for a while, and he’s therefore quick to defensively disclaim that he’s not *really * the cynic his notorious reputation would suggest. He insists, in fact, that he’s 100% free of any prejudice (he’s been tested), and that he approaches each new proposal with the same vigor of a bright-eyed teen in the throes of a Shakespearean romance. Nonetheless, he’s stern to warn: his judgment is most refined, and he’s seen it all, and they’re “all the same.” Of course, as if by some cruel, irresistible, God-forbidden instinct, this rejoinder serves only to intrigue you more. “I’ll be the one to reform his ways and to make him a doe-eyed believer again! My dad’s so wrong about him. I can handle this so-called bad apple.”
These argument-breakers will typically attract the inculpably innocent apologist who is new to the brutal debating scene, always, sadly, the one optimistically trusting enough to expose her inmost thoughts with a tender vulnerability – a worthy and anticipated risk in saving a mate’s soul. The smooth skeptics listen to her heartfelt pitches with a calculated air of care and thoughtfulness, but they’re just reeling her in, going through the motions as they wait to selfishly entertain (and then swiftly dismiss) the climax at the end. The next day, their attention will have moved on, and they’ll proceed onward with their “high standards” under the impression that they’re justified in never again giving the theist or her claims the light of day.
Throwing away all that wisdom she once accepted about maintaining a cool “hard to get” front", the believer naturally rushes to tweet her excitement to all followers; or perhaps, if she’s not on Twitter, she modestly limits her friends to a hint via one lone Facebook update. But whenever the player’s pals inquire as to what the situation is with argument what’s-its-name, especially after he’s had time to rationalize, he’ll somehow save face by glibly replying: “It’s complicated.” Gossip ensues. Drama. Shouting. Name-calling. Tears are shed, maybe even a vow to wait it out is proclaimed, but inevitably it’s over. And then, feeling deceitfully played and unfairly violated, she reports back to her concerned friends, who try their best to encourage this promising one not to become jaded (like them).
Jerks.
…and I told myself I wouldn’t procrastinate tonight. Oh well!]