In general, the subject Legal Technique and logic has been helpful in determining

the right questions to be asked in examining and studying cases, as well as the
relevance of both the dissenting and concurring statements of judges in decisions. It
made the study, not only fluid, but have also shown the sense and rationale why
lawyers should at all times think on their feet.
Logic is not just mere philosophy, it also entails aspects mimicking other fields of
knowledge and organizing thoughts for greater studies or systems of thought. Below
are the different forms of logic, its aspects, and how necessarily it helped me reach
the conclusion of Law as a system, trial as a mean to interpret the law and show its
different perspectives, and its application to Legal Cases.

LOGIC AS SCIENCE
Some people are profoundly disturbed by the fact that reason alone can't generate
truths. When the use of mathematics and logic in science is explained to them they
respond, "If mathematics and logic can't produce absolute truths, then they produce
only untruths or partial truths, and are therefore worthless." This sentence is itself
an example of nonsense clothed in the appearance of logic.
It must be admitted at the outset that science is not in the business of finding
absolute truths. Science proceeds as if there are no absolute truths, or if there are
such truths, we can never know what they are; as the pre-Socratic skeptics
observed: If we were to stumble upon an absolute truth, we'd have no way to be
certain it is an absolute truth. The models and theories of science are
approximations to naturenever perfect. But in most cases we know rather well
how good they are. We can state quantitatively the limits of uncertainty of numeric
results, and their range of applicability. Yet there's always the possibility that we
may find exceptions to one of our accepted laws, or may even find alternative
theories that do a better job than older ones.
Some critics of science attack this process of science, on the grounds that it cannot
produce absolute truths. Theirs is a black/white view of the scientific process. Never
mind that they have not proposed any other process that is capable of producing
anything near the power and comprehensiveness of present science. They say that
"Theory X" isn't perfect therefore it is "wrong".
The results and predictions of a theory, being well tested, will not crumble if the
theory is someday modified, drastically changed, or even replaced with another
theory. The results or predictions of a theory are not all suddenly rendered "wrong"
when a theory is modified or replaced. These results and predictions may be
improved in precision or scope. Sometimes the predictions of a new theory have
greater scope than the old one, predicting things the old one didn't (and things that
we never had observed or tested before). Very often a new theory is sought
because the old one, while its predictions were mostly correct, predicted a few
things that just weren't confirmed by good experiments. We'll need to say more
about this later.
The fact that science claims no absolute truths is seized upon by people who hold
strong religious beliefs and who dislike those conclusions of science that run counter

to their emotional convictions. To them, if a thing is not absolutely and finally true, it
is false, and therefore the methods used to formulate it must be flawed.
The futility of searching for absolutes.
Though the philosophers of ancient Greece developed formal logic, and got a good
start toward mathematics, they realized the limitations of logic and the futility of
seeking absolutes. Here are a few comments about this dilemma.
Only one thing is certainthat is, nothing is certain. If this statement is true, it is
also false.
Ancient paradox
The gods did not reveal from the beginning
All things to us; but in the course of time
Through seeking, men found that which is better.
But as for certain truth, no man has known it,
Nor will he know it; neither of the gods,
Nor yet of all the things of which I speak.
And even if by chance he were to utter
The final truth, he would himself not know it;
For all is but a woven web of guesses.
Xenophanes (c. 570-c. 480 BCE) Greek philosopher.
We know nothing in reality; for truth lies in an abyss.
Democritus, (c. 420 BCE) Greek philosopher.
None of us knows anything, not even whether we know or do not know, nor do we
know whether not knowing and knowing exist, nor in general whether there is
anything or not.
Metrodorus of Chios (c. 4th century BCE) Greek philosopher
This only is certain, that there is nothing certain; and nothing more miserable and
yet more arrogant than man.
Pliny ("The Elder") (23-79) Roman naturalist. (Gaius Plinius Secundus).
All we know of the truth is that the absolute truth, such as it is, is beyond our reach.
Nicholas of Cusa (1401-64) German cardinal, mathematician, philosopher. De Docta
Ignorantia (Learned Ignorance)
These folks who made these skeptical comments are not saying that "We can't know
anything, so why bother?" They are saying that we can't "know" in the absolute
sense, that we have no way to know if there are any absolute truths, and we
wouldn't be able to prove the absoluteness of an absolute truth if we accidentally
stumbled on one. Today we express it differently: "Science describes nature, it does
not explain." Science attempts to answer "how" questions, but not "why" questions.
Science has progressed by rejecting much of its past history, past practices and
past theory. Though the sciences arose from a muddled mix of mysticism, magic
and speculation, scientists eventually realized that those modes of thought were
prone to error and simply not productive. So chemists reject the theories of the
alchemists, astronomers reject the theory underlying astrology. Mathematicians
reject the number-mysticism of the Pythagoreans. Physicists, when they bother to
think about their discipline's roots, acknowledge the pre-scientific contributions of

the ancient Greeks in mathematics, Democritus' view that nature is lawful, and also
their attitude of seeking knowledge for its own sake. But they are embarrassed by
the Greek teachings about physics, for most of these have all been consigned to the
trash-heap of history.
Even those early ideas that happened to be in harmony with our present views
seem based upon faulty methodology or were simply speculation. Sometimes a few
of those guesses seemed surprisingly close to our modern views, at least
superficially. But when examined in detail the similarity breaks down. Democritus'
atomic theory, for example, was based on no hard evidence, had no historical
connection with modern atomic theory, and its details bore no resemblance to what
we now know about atoms. Once in a while, if you speculate wildly enough, you get
lucky. Too many textbooks make a "big deal" out of such accidental similarities.
Scientific method
So, how does science arrive at its results? Some people speak of the "scientific
method" as a set of "rules" for doing science. Too often such rules are presented in
schools as a "recipe" for doing science, and even have numbered steps! That's
misleading. At the other extreme, someone said that scientific method is "Doing
one's damndest with one's mind." I know many have said better things about it, but
here's some observations on scientific method.
How Science really works.
Even casual observation shows us that nature, as perceived by our senses, has
reliable regularities and patterns of behavior.
Through more precise and detailed study we found that many of these regularities
can be modeled, often with mathematical models of great precision.
Sometimes these models break down when extended (extrapolated) beyond their
original scope of validity. Sometimes extrapolation of a model beyond its original
scope actually works. This warns us that we had better rigorously test each model
for validity, and these tests should be capable of exposing any flaws in the model
flaws capable of demonstrating that the model isn't true.
Even when a model survives such testing, we should only grant it "provisional"
acceptance, because cleverer people with more sophisticated measuring techniques
may in the future expose some other deficiencies of the model.
When models are found to be incomplete or deficient, we often fix them by
tweaking their details till they work well enough to agree with observations.
When rapid advances in experimental observations occur, a model may be found so
seriously inadequate to accommodate the new data that we may scrap a large part
of it and start over with a new model. Relativity and quantum mechanics are
historical examples. These situations are often called "scientific revolutions."
When such upheavals occur, and old models are replaced with new ones, that
doesn't mean the old ones were totally "wrong", nor does it mean their underlying
concepts were invalid. They still work within their scope of applicability. Newton's

physics wasn't suddenly wrong, nor were its predictions found unreliable or incorrect
when we adopted Einstein's relativity. Relativity had greater scope than Newtonian
physics, but it also rested on a different conceptual basis.
Past experience has shown that mathematical models of nature have tremendous
advantages over the earlier, more appealing, models which used analogies to
familiar everyday phenomena of our direct sensory experience. Mathematical
models are less burdened with emotional baggage, being "pure" and abstract.
Mathematics provides seemingly infinite adaptability and flexibility as a modeling
structure. If a some natural phenomena can't be modeled by known mathematics,
we invent new forms of mathematics to deal with them.
The history of science has been a process of finding successful descriptive models
of nature. First we found the easy ones. As science progressed, scientists were
forced to tackle the more subtle and difficult problems. So powerful are our models
by now that we often delude ourselves into thinking that we must be very clever to
have been able to figure out how nature "really" works. We may even imagine that
we have achieved "understanding". But on sober reflection we realize that we have
simply devised a more sophisticated and detailed description.
Whatever models or theories we use, they usually include some details or concepts
that do not relate directly to observed or measurable aspects of nature. If the theory
is successful we may think that these details are matched in nature, and are "real"
even though they are not experimentally verifiable. Their reality is supposed to be
demonstrated by the fact that the theory "works" to predict things we can verify
and continue to verify. This is not necessarily so. Scientists often speak of energy,
momentum, wave functions and force fields as if they were on the same status as
objects of everyday experience such as rocks, trees and water. In a practical sense
(for getting answers) this may not matter. But on another level, a change of
scientific model may do away with a force field as an conceptual entity, but it
wouldn't do away with a forest, mountain or lake.
Science progresses through trial and error, mostly error. Every new theory or law
must be skeptically and rigorously tested before acceptance. Most fail, and are
swept under the rug, even before publication. Others, like the luminiferous ether,
flourish for a while, then their inadequacies accumulate till they are intolerable, and
are quietly abandoned when something better comes along. Such mistakes will be
found out. There's always someone who will delight in exposing them. Science
progresses by making mistakes, correcting the mistakes, then moving on to other
matters. If we stopped making mistakes, scientific progress would stop.
What do scientists really think about 'reality'?
Scientists speak in a language that uses everyday colloquial words with specialized
(and often different) meanings. When a scientist says something has been found to
be 'true', what is meant isn't any form of absolute truth. Likewise scientists' use of
'reality' and 'belief' don't imply finality or dogmatism. But if we inquire whether a
scientist believes in an underlying reality behind our sense impressions, we are
compounding two tricky words into a philosophical question for which we have no
way to arrive at a testable answer. I'd be inclined to dismiss the entire question as

meaningless, and not waste time discussing it, or any other such questions. Yet a
few scientists and philosophers disagree, and wax eloquent in writing and speaking
about such questions.
The notion that we can find absolute and final truths is naive, but still appealing to
many people, especially non-scientists. If there are any underlying "truths" of
nature, our models are at best only close approximations to themuseful
descriptions that "work" by correctly predicting nature's behavior. We are not in a
position to answer the philosophical question "Are there any absolute truths?" We
can't determine whether there is an underlying "reality" to be discovered. And,
though our laws and models (theories) become better and better, we have no
reason to expect they will ever be perfect. So we have no justification for absolute
faith or belief in any of them. They may be replaced someday by something quite
different in concept. At least they will be modified. But that won't make the old
models "untrue". All this reservation and qualification about truth, reality, and
belief, doesn't matter. It isn't relevant to doing science. We can do science quite
well without 'answering' these questions, questions that may not have any answers.
Science limits itself to more finite questions for which we can arrive at practical
answers.
Also, we've learned that not all questions we can ask have answers that we can
find. Any question that is in principle or in practice untestable, is not considered a
valid scientific question. We like to think that scientists don't waste time on those,
but they seem to pop up in discussion and in books quite often. (Many people think
unanswerable questions are the most profound and important ones. Questions like
"What is the meaning of it all," or "What jump-started the universe?" I think that
scientists should set these aside for the philosophers to chew on, and get on with
the business of answering more accessible questions.) The First Philosopher, John
Holden
Scientists and a Law Student: THE IMPACT OF IT.
Scientists find it nave that there is an absolute truth, that is why like in Science,
they always tend to challenge the truth to systematic methods to which every step
entails new knowledge to achieve or overcome. In Legal studies, I always thought of
the laws language and how necessarily decisions differ from one another. Reviewing
the dissenting opinions of Justice Teehankee and our lesson about Logic is a Science,
I now conclude that laws, no matter how clear they were, may be viewed in a
different perspective through different procedures or system.

LOGIC OF CONCEPTS AND ANALOGICAL MEANING OF CONCEPTS

LANGUAGE AS THE EXPRESSION OF THOUGHT
We should search for the ancestry of language not in prior systems of animal
communication but in prior representational systems.' (Bickerton, 1990:23
[emphasis added, JRH])
This quotation makes a negative point and a positive point, given added emphasis
above. The idea that language, and by implication much of its current complex

structure, arose from pre-linguistic representational systems has attracted attention

and not much criticism. A goal of evolutionary linguistics is to explain the origins of
the structure found in language. It can be agreed that little of the distinctively
complex structure of modern languages can be attributed to ancestry in animal
communication systems1. But how much of the complex structure of modern
languages can be attributed to ancestry in pre-linguistic representational systems?
Sampson (1997) expressed a view opposed to Bickerton's.
` ... it is not plausible that our internal representation of statements, which we use
in order to reason and draw inferences in other modes, will map in a simple
element-by-element fashion into the words with which we express those statements
in speech. ... Nobody really has the least idea what is physically going on in the
head when we reason, but I agree that whatever goes on is likely to relate in a fairly
abstract way to the words of spoken utterances, which are adapted to the necessary
linearity of speech and to the fact that speaker and hearer are working with
separate models of reality.' Sampson, 1997:100)
`It is occasionally suggested that language evolved as a medium of internal
knowledge representation for use in the computations underlying reasoning. But
although there may be a languagelike representational medium -- ``the language of
thought,' or ``mentalese'' (Fodor 1975) -- it clearly cannot be English, Japanese, and
so on. Natural languages are hopeless for this function: They are needlessly serial,
rife with ambiguity (usually harmless in conversational contexts, but unsuited for
long-term knowledge representation), complicated by alternations that are relevant
only to discourse (e.g. topicalization), and cluttered with devices (such as phonology
and much of morphology) that make no contribution to reasoning.' (Pinker & Bloom,
1990:714)
Much of the structure of language has no role in a system for the internal
representation of thought.
Much of the structure of language has a role in systems for the external expression
of thought, which includes communication.
A corollary of these propositions, not pursued in detail here, is:
Pressure for effective expression of thought, including communication, may explain
much of the structure of language.
In the next section, to start this argument, independent characterizations of nonlinguistic mental representations and the structure of language are set out. The
following sections conduct a survey of the central layers of the structure of any
language, its phonology, morphology and syntax, arguing in all cases that the
structuring concerned plays no role in the representation of thought, but defines, or
constitutes, the mapping of thoughts onto linguistic expressions.
Mental Representation
In a polemic passage, Chomsky (1980:229-230) disparages the idea of
communication as the essential function of language, preferring to see language as
enabling the expression of thought. I will not quibble over the term `essential' here;
I will use `communication' and `expression of thought' interchangeably in this

paper, but the latter term has the virtue of highlighting a clear separation between
language and thought. Linguistic form, in this view, is something different from
thought itself, which is `expressed' in language. Thought which remains
unexpressed does not take linguistic form. Much of our thought is of this
unexpressed kind, i.e. not in language. Yet unexpressed thought is not formless or
contentless, and so one can speak meaningfully of it as a kind of representation.
It is assumed here that the existence of nonlinguistic representations is
unproblematic, contrary to the views of a few philosophers (e.g. Stich (1983), Judge
(1985), Schiffer (1989), Horst (1996)). Beyond the assumption of their existence, no
particularly strong further assumptions are made here about mental
representations. For example, the view of nonlinguistic representations taken here is
compatible with, but not dependent on, distributed connectionist views of how to
code the input to the expression of thought. But the argument pursued here will
naturally emphasize dissimilarities between language structure and the structure of
nonlinguistic mental representation.
Nonlinguistic mental representations are possessed by animals and prelinguistic
infants for remembering and thinking about events in the world. They are derived
from extero- and intero-perception, such as perceptions of light, heat, touch, sound,
thirst and hunger. Nonlinguistic mental representations are often referred to as
constituting the `language of thought' (as in Fodor, 1975) or `mentalese'. The
language metaphor, implicit in both Fodor's title and the `-ese' suffix, is attractive
because it alludes implicitly to the complex structure of thought. But the language
metaphor is also misleading. Fodor's Language of Thought clearly does not have
much of the structure of a public language, such as French or Swahili. Indeed, it is
exactly the non-language-like features of nonlinguistic mental representations that
are at the core of my argument here. The essential differences between an internal
(cognitive) representation system and a communication system are as follows.
A communication system maps external forms (such as speech sounds or manual
signs), via mental structures, to meanings (where many, if not all, meanings relate
to external objects, events or situations). A communication system is typically
public, shared by many individuals2.
A representation system lacks the mapping to external forms, and merely provides
mental structures which relate to, or denote, external situations. There would be no
practical advantage in having a representation system which was not in some way
related to the world outside the mind possessing it.
Thus a communication system properly includes a representation system. There are
elements in a communication system that are not part of the inherent
representation system. Analogously, there are elements in a computer system
which relate only to keyboard and screen functions and not to the core business of
computation. Any aspects of a communication system which pertain only to the
mapping between external forms (i.e. sounds or signs) and the internal cognitive
representation system are not part of the representation system per se.
Nonlinguistic mental representations are non-temporal; all parts of the
representation of a remembered event are simultaneously present to the mind.

Nonlinguistic mental representations are multi-dimensional; for example, they are

often diagrammed on paper as networks, with hierarchical relationships between
the parts, and/or as composed of features (which can be seen as dimensions).
Nonlinguistic mental representations do not exist in the same medium as the
external forms to which they are mapped by the structure of a language;
specifically, they are non-acoustic and non-manual. With nonlinguistic mental
representations, no issue of ambiguity arises; they are what they are (although
mental representations may be vague or general).
By contrast, utterances are temporal. Utterances in spoken language are acoustic
events, and in sign language, manual events. The raw unprocessed speech signal
which reaches the eardrum is a complex sound wave, no more than a temporal
sequence of variations in air pressure. The variations are more or less strong surges
and declines in pressure, with periods of stillness. At any instant in time, the only
information immediately available in this signal is the relative strength of the
change in air-pressure, a single (positive or negative) number. At bottom, the whole
rich linguistic fabric of an utterance, from phonemic oppositions (e.g. what makes a
`b' different from an `s') through syllables, morphemes, words and phrases to
clauses and sentences, is signalled by this temporal sequence of air-pressure
variations. Thus utterances are linear or one-dimensional sequences of events; any
perceived imposition of further dimensions on the signal (e.g. by intonation) arises
from knowledge of the mapping between utterances and the nonlinguistic mental
representations of their meanings. The term `one-dimensional' emphasizes that the
events or `landmarks' in the temporal sequence are distinguished by their values on
a single parameter, that of relative pressure. (In sign language, admittedly, some
degree of simultaneity is present in the manual signals.) Utterances are frequently
ambiguous; as computational linguists know to their cost, ambiguity, especially
local ambiguity, is rife in language. Ambiguity arises at all levels of linguistic
structure. For instance, the utterance `I'm coming to get you' is ambiguous between
a threat and a promise of help; the sentence Visiting relatives can be boring can be
understood as describing at least two different situations; the word list, like many
other English words, has many senses; phonetically, in English a plosive where
voicing commences simultaneously with release can be interpreted as either
`voiced', as in beer, or `voiceless', as in spear. These are examples contributing to
the many-to-one mapping between nonlinguistic representations and linguistic
strings. (In fact, given the existence of synonymy and paraphrase, the overall
mapping is many-to-many.) The art of Language
Language in the Study of Law
This is one crucial part because it is now stressed that a lawyer should not just be
understood verbally but also through writing which entails a greater work. In
examinations, the usual type of questions is essay writing or legal argumentation.
When we talked about the Language of Concepts, I already knew after the session
how important conceptualization is, clear cut of what you want to prove, before
adding sentences to it. Language also has structure and it is important to be
intricate in its most basic unit which is the word more than anything else.

CHARACTERISTICS OF REASONING AND FALLACIES

Characteristics of Inductive Reasoning

Observation about what must be true. Inductive reasoning does not use syllogisms,
but series of observations, in order to reach a conclusion.
The most basic kind of inductive reasoning is called generalization. You generalize
whenever you make a general statement (all salesmen are pushy) based on
observations with specific members of that group (the last three salesmen who
came to my door were pushy). You also generalize when you make an observation
about a specific thing based on other specific things that belong to the same group
(my girlfriends cousin Ed is a salesman, so he will probably be pushy.) When you
use specific observations as the basis of a general conclusion, you are said to be
making an inductive leap.
The fallacy most often associated with generalization is hasty generalization, which
you commit when you make an inductive leap that is not based on sufficient
information. Look at the following five statements and try to determine when the
line is crossed.
1) Microsoft is a sexist company. It has over 5,000 employees and not a single one
of them is female.
2) Microsoft is a sexist company. I know twenty people who applied for jobs there-ten men and ten women. Though all of them were equally qualified, all of the men
got jobs there and none of the women did.
3) Microsoft is a sexist company. I have five female friends who have applied for
jobs there, and all of them lost out to less qualified men.
Characteristics of Deductive Reasoning
A deductive argument offers two or more assertions that lead automatically to a
conclusion. Though they are not always phrased in syllogistic form, deductive
arguments can usually be phrased as "syllogisms," or as brief, mathematical
statements in which the premises lead inexorably to the conclusion. The following is
an example of a sound deductive syllogism:
Premise: All dogs have four legs.
Premise: Rover is a dog,
Conclusion: Rover has four legs.
As long as the first two sentences in this argument are true, there can be no doubt
that the final statement is correct--it is a matter of mathematical certainty.
Deductive arguments are not spoken of as "true" or "false," but as "sound" or
"unsound." A sound argument is one in which the premises guarantee the
conclusions, and an unsound argument is one in which the premises do not
guarantee the conclusions. A deduction can be completely true, yet unsound. It can
also be sound, yet demonstrably untrue. Consider the following two arguments:
All Southern presidents in this century were Baptists.
Jimmy Carter was a Baptist.

Jimmy Carter was a Southern president in the 20th century. (True but unsound)
All Southern presidents in this century were Republicans.
Jimmy Carter was a Southern president in the 20th century.
Jimmy Carter was a Republican.
(Sound but untrue)
The classic syllogism:
All men are mortal
Socrates is a man
Therefore, Socrates is mortal
Heres an example of the syllogism in an argument:
Laws making marijuana illegal should be repealed.
People should have the right to use any substance they wish
No laws should prevent citizens from exercising their rights.
Anything that promotes prosperity is good.
The free-enterprise system is something that promotes prosperity.
Therefore, the free-enterprise system is good.
Fallacies of Deductive Reasoning
Ad Hominem: an argument that attacks an individual's character or behavior rather
than the issue at hand. For example, if you argue against gun control because the
second amendment entitles US citizens the right to bear arms, and your opponent
says that most people who defend the second amendment are ignorant, backwoods
fanatics, which are an ad hominem fallacy. Aside from the irrelevance of the
personal attack, this example shows that the issue of the second amendment is a
threatening premise to the opposition.
Oversimplification: supplying neat and easy explanations for large and complicated
phenomena. No wonder drug abuse is out of control. Look at how the courts have
hobbled police officers.
Red Herring: an argument that contains an irrelevant premise in order to divert
attention from what is being argued. For example, if you are debating the fuel
efficiency of several different makes of car and your opposition introduces the
importance of buying domestic vehicles, that is a red herring. The new premise
diverts attention away from the issue of fuel efficiency.
Non-Sequitur: Literally translated to "It does not follow," this fallacy draws
conclusions from premises that do not necessarily apply. For example, "Guns should
be outlawed. My neighbor has a gun in his house and he is in favor of euthanasia."
This would be a non-sequitur. The two issues are unrelated enough that a conclusion
about gun control cannot be drawn from a premise on euthanasia.

False Dichotomy: Otherwise known as the "either/or fallacy," this is an argument

that makes the assumption that there are only two alternatives available when
there may be many more. For instance, "Do we want a defense policy that relies on
nuclear annihilation, or do we want one that is geared to reduce global tensions?"
This is a false dichotomy because other options may exist. Nevertheless, be wary of
arguments in which there really are only two alternatives.
Straw Man: an argument that misrepresents the opposition's view by putting it in
terms that makes it seem more vulnerable. For example, if someone says, "those
people who oppose rapid advances in technology want us to 'go back to the caves,'"
it is a straw man fallacy. Someone who opposes rapid advances in technology would
not likely claim such a premise.
Begging the Question: an argument containing a premise that is really a
restatement of the conclusion. If someone is arguing that marijuana should be
legalized, and one of the premises is that "naturally growing plants should not be
restricted," that premise is begging the question. These fallacies can be extremely
subtle.
False Analogy: Arguments often employ analogies, the validity of which must be
judged by the analyst. A statement such as, "experimental drugs like the abortion
pill should not be distributed to the public; look what happened with Thalidomide"
could be a false analogy. The two are different in almost every way except for the
inference that they are labeled "experimental."
Hasty Generalization: Arguments can contain conclusions that are based on
incomplete evidence or unrepresentative samples. Arguments that employ surveys
are at risk of this fallacy. If an argument states, "based on a poll taken at the
student union, most students eat on campus," the sample may not be representing
the students who do not utilize the student union. Be wary of arguments that
contain the words "always" or "never."
Post Hoc, Ergo Propter Hoc: Literally translated as "after this, therefore because of
this, this fallacy occurs when an argument assumes causation based on the
succession of time. For instance, someone might claim that since President Clinton
entered the Whitehouse, crime in the United States has tripled, implying causation.
When analyzed, however, it may be found that, while the statement is true, the two
premises are entirely unrelated.
False Analogy: the claim of persuasive likeness when no significant likeness exists.
Deductive Inferences
When an argument claims that the truth of its premises guarantees the truth of its
conclusion, it is said to involve a deductive inference. Deductive reasoning holds to
a very high standard of correctness. A deductive inference succeeds only if its
premises provide such absolute and complete support for its conclusion that it
would be utterly inconsistent to suppose that the premises are true but the
conclusion false.

Notice that each argument either meets this standard or else it does not; there is no
middle ground.
Some deductive arguments are perfect, and if their premises are in fact true, then it
follows that their conclusions must also be true, no matter what else may happen to
be the case. All other deductive arguments are no good at alltheir conclusions
may be false even if their premises are true, and no amount of additional
information can help them in the least.
Inductive Inferences
When an argument claims merely that the truth of its premises make it likely or
probable that its conclusion is also true, it is said to involve an inductive inference.
The standard of correctness for inductive reasoning is much more flexible than that
for deduction. An inductive argument succeeds whenever its premises provide some
legitimate evidence or support for the truth of its conclusion.
Although it is therefore reasonable to accept the truth of that conclusion on these
grounds, it would not be completely inconsistent to withhold judgment or even to
deny it outright.
Inductive arguments, then, may meet their standard to a greater or to a lesser
degree, depending upon the amount of support they supply. No inductive argument
is either absolutely perfect or entirely useless, although one may be said to be
relatively better or worse than another in the sense that it recommends its
conclusion with a higher or lower degree of probability. In such cases, relevant
additional information often affects the reliability of an inductive argument by
providing other evidence that changes our estimation of the likelihood of the
conclusion.
It should be possible to differentiate arguments of these two sorts with some
accuracy already.
Remember that deductive arguments claim to guarantee their conclusions, while
inductive arguments merely recommend theirs. Or ask yourself whether the
introduction of any additional informationshort of changing or denying any of the
premisescould make the conclusion seem more or less likely; if so, the pattern of
reasoning is inductive 2010, PBworks
Fallacies and totality of logic in the persona of the laws
One thing I learned is that logic and fallacies cannot be separated. I have learned
that when answering legal conflicts, we should first argue in the logical level, finding
fallacies of every arguments or act through logic. After successfully arguing
logically, that should only be the time wherein laws will be in the picture.

CONCLUSION
Laws will always be written and are there, but there are different perspective
through which a judge tends to judge an act as violation or obedience of the
law. Lawyers are there to aid the courts in realigning justice in its most
practical sense, and just blabbering about the law is not enough. Systems

and operation of Logic should play a part. This is what my paper stands for.
The explicit giving of examples and explanation and its direct legal
application in a law students life is what makes a logical argument as a
technique.