As we move into an ugly new phase of the Israel-Hamas war, I’ve realized there’s something about the initial social media response that’s been bothering me—a style of argumentation worth naming and avoiding.
First, a little definition of terms. In the most extreme (and most online) cases, we see people of various political stripes actively straw-manning the other side: presenting a weakened version of their opponent’s position so that they can easily knock it down. This is typified by those who, in response to any criticism of Israel, say “Oh, so you think all Jews should DIE?”—or conversely those who, in response to the observation that Hamas’s attack was unusually brutal, say “Oh, so all Palestinians are TERRORISTS now?” Clearly, this kind of response does little to advance discourse, but in 2023 it’s not exactly surprising.
The opposite of straw-manning is steel-manning: presenting the strongest possible version of your opponent’s position so that you can rebut it as fairly and systematically as possible. This is a nice ideal but often an unrealistic bar to clear—especially when emotions are running high.
In practice, we often see something in the middle: people who want to seem reasonable but whose tone or framing of the other side rings hollow. This is the style of argumentation that has slowly gotten under my skin—and it’s certainly not unique to the present conflict. Let’s call this rhetorical move tin-manning: presenting a version of your opponent’s position that is nominally accurate but has no heart.
Tin-man (v.) — to present a version of your opponent’s position that is nominally accurate but has no heart. (See also: STRAW-MAN, STEEL-MAN)
Tin-manning is the veneer of fair-mindedness being used for self-serving or instrumental gains. It’s the act of saying “Yeah, yeah—sure. It’s really bad that X [whatever you’re worried about]. But have you SEEN how FUCKED UP Y is [whatever they’re worried about]?” Their words express agreement, but their delivery suggests that you’re making a mountain out of a molehill, or that you couldn’t possibly be serious when you say that you’re upset.
Tin-manning tends to rear its head, I think, when one’s own moral convictions are so strong that the other side’s professed values start looking like a cover for some secret agenda. As if proponents of gender-affirming surgery don’t actually care about trans people’s wellbeing. As if opponents of abortion don’t actually think that babies are being murdered. As if anti-vaxxers don’t actually think the government is trying to infect and control people, or whatever it may be. I’m not intending to draw moral equivalencies between these particular issues here; the parallel is simply a pattern of response that fails to take people’s concerns at face value.
This isn’t about civility or dialogue (although sure, all else being equal, those are probably good too); it’s about having an accurate model of the world. In other words, tin-manning isn’t so much a failure of empathy as it is an intellectual failure to grasp why people are arguing and advocating for the things they do. Even if you can say the right words to capture their position, it will be difficult to reason accurately about others’ actions without understanding their deep motivations.
To be sure, there are some nutjobs you may not want to grant such open-heartedness to, either because you’re not interested in persuading them, because you don’t want to give voice to their perspective, or because it’s just not worth your time. But at least be clear about what you’re doing. Tin-manning is a rhetorical move—not a means of truth-seeking or getting your opponent to agree with you.
I’ll concede too that there really are some cynical operators out there who make arguments they don’t believe. These people probably deserve to be tin-manned because their position is a hollow tin-man. But surely they are a small minority. While most of us exaggerate or make factual errors from time to time, we’re rarely intentionally spreading disingenuous views. Indeed, there are probably views you yourself believed five years ago that seem ridiculous now—yet at the time you held them without a trace of irony. So too with your conspiracy-minded uncle or your roommate who “doesn’t believe in showering.”
The nice thing about tin-manning is that it suggests an argumentative stance that is constructive without being particularly demanding. To steel-man a Q-Anoner’s position, for example, you’d likely have to do quite a bit of research, in strange corners of the internet, about shadowy conspiracies and webs of influence. To merely not tin-man their position, you don’t need to know all these arguments; you just need to start with the assumption that they’re genuinely concerned about (I think) child trafficking and illegitimate power structures.
Personally, I’ve always been put off by those who imply their enemies are faking outrage; who pay lip service to opposing arguments but secretly attribute malicious motives. That view is not only uncharitable—it’s epistemically lazy and, frankly, one I find a bit ridiculous.
Still, if it’s one you hold, I’ll try to have a heart.