Very early in the history of Christianity, within the first and second centuries, there arose one of the greatest philosophical-theological challenges to early Christianity in the form of proto-Gnosticism or Gnosticism. Evidence of Christianity’s interaction with proto-Gnosticism can be seen in the New Testament itself (e.g., Colossians, 1 John, etc.) and also in the ante-Nicene Fathers.
The main concern in the New Testament and in early Church history was that Gnosticism—a worldview fundamentally at odds with Biblical religion and historic Christianity—was popular and being confounded with Christianity. Gnostics adopted Christian terminology—like “Jesus”—into their system, but fundamentally changed their content. But, if the contradiction was so obvious, why were they even limitedly successful in attracting followers?
At least part of the answer is because they argued that they had privileged, secret knowledge (gnosis; γνῶσις) that was inaccessible to others but which provided a higher, truer knowledge than what existed. That knowledge was to act as an interpretive grid regarding and superseding other evidence (i.e., eyewitnesses, scriptures, extant evidence, etc.).
In order to do this they would often appeal to private visions (cf. Colossians 2:18) or an esoteric secret tradition that was allegedly given by Jesus and/or His apostles but for which there is no extant evidence. Thus, “Having denied the historical basis of the gospel, the Gnostics seek to reinterpret it in alien terms with the aid of a spurious tradition.” Similar argumentation is recorded in a dispute between Jesus and the scribes and Pharisees over rabbinic traditions that were supposedly traced back to Moses (Matthew 15:1-9; Mark 7:1-13; cf. Exodus 24:4 cp. Joshua 8:35).
A fallacious claim could be made—and has been many times since—that because we do not possess an exhaustive account of everything Jesus said and did, which is true (John 20:30; John 21:25), it means someone can claim positive evidence concerning Jesus, even contrary to existing evidence. Whether one believes in Jesus or not, the fallacious nature of the argumentation ought to be obvious.
What is the point, and what in the world does this have to do with US foreign policy?
Foreign Policy Gnosticism
The lesson is that there is a burden of proof on those who assert the existence of inaccessible evidence that also supposedly establishes their argument, particularly when their claim contradicts publicly-available evidence. In effect, the argument is that, since there is a possibility of additional confirming evidence of which we are unaware, that alleged evidence must support one’s conclusion. However, the mere possibility that additional evidence likely exists tells us nothing about what that evidence says. To infer that the unknown evidence supports one’s conclusion simply because it is unknown is to beg the question—to assume the very proposition that one is attempting to establish. Unknown information certainly exists, but the mere existence of unknown information cannot serve as evidence for either side and cannot be assigned whatever content is necessary to rescue one’s conclusion.
While this fallacy might be observed in many contexts, it seems to be particularly prevalent in debates over foreign policy, whether concerning present or past events. If one demonstrates a superior command of the existing facts in a foreign policy debate, the opponent will often make what—by itself—would be an altogether fair retreat: “I don’t know.” “I don’t know” is often an admirable admission of intellectual humility, and we should all be willing to acknowledge the limits of our knowledge. However, this admission is often combined with foreign policy Gnosticism, in which an acknowledgment of one’s ignorance is transformed into a positive assertion of knowledge.
One admits, “I don’t know what the relevant evidence shows,” and then proceeds to assert, in effect, “but our leaders do know, and certainly have access to more specific inside information that we don’t know, therefore their policy decisions should generally be assumed to be correct by default.” While we do not possess omniscience and often do not have personal-experiential knowledge of the inner workings of the halls of power, that is not sufficient to transform ignorance of available evidence and shared ignorance of inaccessible details into certainty.
Such reasoning is simultaneously a claim to ignorance and knowledge; it is saying, “I don’t know,” “Others [probably] know,” and “I know” at the same time. That is an appeal to ignorance. Allegedly one’s ignorance regarding the available evidence, plus lacking all inaccessible information on both sides, is supposed to indicate that the more-informed person’s arguments are qualitatively equal or even inferior to the assertions of the less-informed person. This is a fallacious attempt to equalize evidence and admit lack of evidence, then to suggest that incomplete information is evidence that likely defaults to the correctness of their position.
Foreign policy Gnosticism is fallacious and is a debating trick, whether done consciously or unconsciously. It is an assertion to avoid logic, argumentation, and evidence disguised as intellectual humility. The opponent wants you to adopt a position of intellectual humility while they enjoy an undeserved sense of certainty based on the informal fallacy of appeal to ignorance. While other evidence certainly may exist in favor of the other side, that has to be demonstrated, and—even if it is later proven to be the case—it still does not erase the fallacy. The existence of inaccessible information does not establish the content, reliability, interpretation, or implications of that information.
A Black Box: “Our Leaders Know More”
Along with the concept of foreign policy Gnosticism, we can add a similar and related concept—a black box. A black box is an unspecified or inaccessible body of information, mechanism, or explanation invoked to account for a conclusion, such that the unknown contents of the “box” are treated as though they resolve the evidentiary or explanatory problem without actually being disclosed or demonstrated. Unknown information is treated as though its content were known, and then that hypothetical unknown information is used to justify a conclusion. Instead of providing an explanation, it replaces an explanation.
A → [BLACK BOX] → B
Used legitimately, a black box is a placeholder for a missing explanation, not an explanation, let alone a sufficient justification; something not yet fully understood. Used illegitimately in politics and foreign policy debates it usually works like this:
Evidence available to us → [BLACK BOX: “people in power know more”; classified intelligence, deliberations, expertise, etc.] → policy conclusion
The unjustified assumption is that there must be something inside the box that explains why the conclusion is correct. Applied to foreign policy it usually is something like, “We don’t know what information the administration possesses, but presumably that information explains why the administration’s policy is correct.” In that case, the box contains not merely an unknown mechanism but an unknown justification. Again, the argument assumes what it seeks to prove.
The is the typical sequence works out like this:
- You and I disagree about the rightness of a present or past foreign policy decision →
- You seem to know more or have a more strongly-formed opinion than I do →
- But the political elites in question likely know more than both of us (or, more specifically, more than you do) →
- They therefore possess facts that neither of us possesses →
- [Gnosticism + black box]: Those unknown facts presumably explain and justify their policy →
- The evidence available to you is therefore insufficient to challenge their policy →
- Therefore, although I cannot identify the relevant facts either, I am justified in dismissing your argument
Basically, the argument becomes, “I don’t know what they know, but I know that what they know vindicates me.”
The remarkable feature of this argument is that ignorance has somehow been transformed into knowledge. The speaker has not acquired the supposedly decisive facts, has not demonstrated what those facts are, and has not shown that they would support his conclusion. Nevertheless, the mere possibility of their existence is treated as sufficient reason to dismiss evidence and argument that points in the opposite direction. Thus, ignorance triumphs over knowledge, unjustified inference triumphs over evidence and argumentation, a double-standard is introduced over consistency, and intellectual pride masquerades as intellectual humility.
The possible existence of an unknown explanation does not constitute evidence for any particular explanation. Other information certainly exists, and it may be entirely reasonable to suspend judgment until more is known and to remain open to correction. But, until the content of that information is established, we cannot legitimately assign it evidentiary weight. It is not an argument unless some reason is given to believe what the hypothetical information would actually contain. Otherwise, the claim becomes unfalsifiable. At first, you do not possess the secret information; then, if you acquire additional information and still reach the same conclusion about the policy, you are told that you simply have not acquired the right information. The black box can therefore absorb every conceivable counterargument: whatever evidence you produce, the Gnostic contents of the box are presumed to contain something that vindicates the opposing conclusion.
Foreign policy Gnosticism is the epistemic posture; the foreign policy black box is the argumentative mechanism. The Gnosticism aspect argues that there exists privileged knowledge possessed by those inside the foreign policy apparatus, and therefore outsiders are presumptively incapable of adequately judging their decisions. The black box aspect is where the unspecified contents of that privileged knowledge are invoked as a substitute for actually providing evidence or reasoning.
Foreign Policy Gnosticism, the Black Box, & the Statist Non Sequitur
Of course, all this comes back to an elementary error of logic known as question-begging, vicious circular reasoning, or a non sequitur wherein arguments are unjustified or arbitrary because they presuppose their conclusion. Not only is this argumentation fallacious, but it is dangerous when applied to the state.
A concept I have coined is that statist non sequitur. Thomas Sowell provides a great summary of this concept, “In politics, the great nonsequitur of our time is that (1) things are not right, and that (2) the government should make them right.” The statist non sequitur is the unjustified inference that a problem, harm, or undesirable condition necessarily and obviously calls for a state solution against alternatives. It presumes, often without argument, that the state is necessary to provide, protect, regulate, or correct something, and that, absent state intervention, the relevant good would be underprovided, unavailable, or impossible to achieve. Thus, the existence of a problem is treated not merely as evidence that something should be done, but as evidence that the state must do it. The essential error is the failure to establish the missing connection between “this is a problem” and “therefore the state is necessary to solve it.”
In foreign policy debates, the statist non sequitur can become intertwined with foreign policy Gnosticism: the unjustified presumption that political elites possess privileged knowledge that is both inaccessible to outsiders and sufficient to justify their decisions. The argument does not merely assume that policymakers know more than their critics, it quietly assumes that what they know is correct, relevant, and justifying—and that their possession of this supposedly superior knowledge warrants trusting their conclusions even when the evidence available to outsiders points in another direction.
Such reasoning begs the very question at issue. That policymakers know something we do not know establishes only that they know something we do not know. It does not establish that what they know is true, that they have understood it correctly, or that it justifies their policy. The unknown information is thereby placed in a black box, where it is presumed to contain whatever facts are necessary to vindicate the state’s decision. The argument has thus ceased to demonstrate the necessity or justification of state action and instead presumes both the state’s necessity and the reliability of those exercising its power.
While prejudging in favor of the state and state elites, and assuming that they both know and are correct, may be comforting to some, it is as dangerous as it is fallacious. The reason is the nature of the state itself: the state is a monopoly on coercion. Thus, this is not merely a matter of being charitable toward our fellow human beings, giving them the benefit of the doubt, or conceding that we are not omniscient; it is a presumption in favor of coercion.
When applied to foreign policy, that presumption can mean intervention, military force, violence, and war. To presume that policymakers possess unknown but presumably correct and justifying information is therefore not an innocuous exercise in epistemic humility, it is to place the presumption of legitimacy automatically on the side of the institution possessing the power to compel, tax, injure, and kill.
We probably recognize the importance of the presumption of innocence: all individuals accused of a crime ought to be considered legally innocent by default until proven guilty. What becomes astounding to those who recognize the nature of the state and its implications is how rarely a comparable presumption of peace is applied to foreign policy. Instead, there is often a presumption of war. Many are perfectly comfortable defaulting to state violence unless and until someone can produce a viable alternative. Violence must be presumed to be justified; peace, by contrast, must be rigorously argued for and supported by overwhelming evidence merely to be considered. The burden of proof is thus perversely placed upon the person who questions the use of force rather than upon the person proposing it.
Add foreign policy Gnosticism and the foreign policy black box to this presumption, and the state becomes effectively insulated from criticism. Contrary evidence can always be dismissed on the grounds that critics do not possess the full information supposedly available to political elites. The result is an inversion. Ignorance is treated as a reason to trust the state rather than a reason to withhold judgment about its exercise of coercion. To assume that the state’s unknown information is correct and justifying is therefore to err on the side of violence. The black box converts an absence of knowledge into a presumption in favor of state action, while the presumption of peace is inverted into a presumption of war.
