The Central Fallacy of JFK
Research
June 2000
This first essay considers what I will call, for lack of a better name,
"The Central Fallacy of JFK Research." In effect, this fallacy is a
misuse of the Argument ad Ignorantiam—the Argument from Ignorance—by many
JFK researchers of all persuasions. The Argument ad Ignorantiam is the
fallacy of reasoning that a proposition is true simply because it has not been
proven false, or the converse, that a proposition is false simply because it has
not been proven true. A simple example might be the deduction that
extraterrestrials have not landed on earth because we have no hard proof of it.
The proposition is that extraterrestrials have landed on earth; the deduction is
that it is false because no physical evidence has been found for any such
landings; the fallacy is that lack of physical evidence does not mean that it
does not exist or that they could not have landed without leaving physical
traces.
The JFK case has two versions of this fallacy:
• It was nonconspiracy because conspiracy has not yet been proven.
• It was conspiracy because nonconspiracy has not yet been proven.
The first of these is argued by those who reject conspiracy, the second by
those who accept conspiracy. Let us consider them individually, beginning with
the second.
We very often hear conspiracy theorists make statements such as "In all
these years, not one scintilla of evidence has arisen to support the idea of Lee
Harvey Oswald acting alone." This is an overstated version of "It was
conspiracy because there has arisen no credible evidence for nonconspiracy."
This version of the Argument ad Ignorantiam is easy to deal with because
we don’t even have to worry about the fallacy—the starting proposition that
one can prove nonconspiracy is already flawed. Obviously, one can never truly
prove nonconspiracy because that would require us to consider each person on
earth and certify individually that they did not participate in the proposed
conspiracy. So, no conspiracy theorist should ever try to prove conspiracy by
the absence of nonconspiracy.
The first version of the fallacy is much more substantive. A nonconspiracist
might propose that JFK was not killed by a conspiracy because there exists no
strong evidence for such a conspiracy (where "strong evidence" refers
to objectively falsifiable evidence in the sense that Sir Karl Popper uses it).
Conspiracy theorists could then counter that from the Argument ad Ignorantiam
fallacy, conspiracy cannot be denied solely from lack of proof for it. They
would be technically correct, of course, to the extent that they are
interpreting the fallacy literally. But they would be neglecting a crucial
factor—the massive amount of time and effort spent over 36 years by multiple
governmental agencies, governmental investigations, private organizations,
passionate individuals, and other qualified people to turn up proof of
conspiracy, all without succeeding. To fail to draw the obvious conclusion from
this, namely that any such conspiracy would be exceedingly improbable because it
would almost certainly have been unearthed by all this concerted effort, is as
erroneous as employing the letter of the fallacy to deny the conspiracy. Thus,
those who argue the fallacy would be guilty of using it narrowly and
incompletely—in a sense, fallaciously.
The message here is simple and direct: With every passing year, the
continuing failure to turn up hard evidence of conspiracy just tightens the knot
around those who continue to proclaim it with undiminished force. Theirs will
increasingly become a crusade rather than a rational investigation—a system of
belief, even one of faith, rather than fact—if it has not become so already.
Those who carry on without solid support must accept that the probability of
their being vindicated will inexorably decline, if it has not already done so.
Those who try to counteract the obvious lack of evidence by racheting their
rhetoric ever higher will run the risk of its becoming empty and
hollow—rhetoric without reason—if they have not already.
Thus the continuing lack of strong evidence specific to conspiracy makes it
an increasingly untenable proposition. Slowly but surely, the probability of
nonconspiracy is climbing ever-higher. Every tick of the clock raises it
inexorably, as does every national meeting where reams of inconclusive and
irrelevant "evidence" are presented at great length and their
significance greatly exaggerated.
Let us be clear one critical point. Nothing in this argument prohibits
conspiracy. Perhaps tomorrow the smoking gun will be found and conspiracy will
be proven. But for 36 years nothing like this has happened—that history of
nonaccomplishment must count for a tremendous lot.
Again, this is less an argument against conspiracy per se than an
argument against demonstrated conspiracy. All of us devoted to this case
must learn to operate on two mental tracks simultaneously—keeping our minds
open to all future possibilities while properly recognizing the meaning of the
current probabilities.