During the latest Classical Values Summit (Justin, unfortunately, was tied up with Karl haggling over the definition of 'hit' -- Rove wants to pay us a dollar per hit as registered by SiteMeter, while we favor server statistics -- muy lucrativo^[*]) the term 'bullshit' came up (as it often does, particulalry when discussing our own blog, which merely mimes the memes of Bush's minions).

I was reminded of a column I'd skimmed on a retired philosophy professor's essay titled 'On Bullshit' and Eric was intrigued to hear more. I may have let it go if it weren't for this critique of Washington Post editor Phillip Bennett spotted on Roger L. Simon's blog (via Glenn Reynolds):

BTW: I don't often use expletives on this blog, but the following excerpt seems to merit it. If you want bullshit at it's most rarified (or should I say blatant?), how about this quote from Bennett?

We have a little bit different roles in newspapers compared with our counterparts in Europe and other countries. We don't have any political point of view that we are trying to advance. We don't represent any political parties. We are not tied to any political movement.

Now that certainly does sound like bullshit. But what about the column mentioned above? Here's the crux of the biscuit:

Frankfurt's conclusion, which I caught up with in its latest repackaging, is that bullshit is defined not so much by the end product as by the process by which it is created.

Eureka! Frankfurt's definition is one of those not-at-all-obvious insights that become blindingly obvious the moment they are expressed. Although Frankfurt doesn't point this out, it immediately occurred to me upon closing his book that the word "bullshit" is both noun and verb, and that this duality distinguishes bullshit not only from the aforementioned Menckenesque antecedents, but also from its contemporary near-relative, horseshit. It is possible to bullshit somebody, but it is not possible to poppycock, or to twaddle, or to horseshit anyone. When we speak of bullshit, then, we speak, implicitly, of the action that brought the bullshit into being: Somebody bullshitted.

Only not quite. The crux of Noah's biscuit is a kind of ad captandum,^[1] an appeal to the emotions of the leftist rabble rather than any reasoned argument:

The Bush administration is clearly more bullshit-heavy than its predecessors. Slate's founding editor, Michael Kinsley, put his finger on the Bush administration's particular style of lying three years ago:

If the truth was too precious to waste on politics for Bush I and a challenge to overcome for Clinton, for our current George Bush it is simply boring and uncool. Bush II administration lies are often so laughably obvious that you wonder why they bother. Until you realize: They haven't bothered.

But by Frankfurt's lights, what Bush does isn't lying at all. It's bullshitting. Whatever you choose to call it, Bush's indifference to the truth is indeed more troubling, in many ways, than what Frankfurt calls "lying" would be. Richard Nixon knew he was bombing Cambodia. Does George W. Bush have a clue that his Social Security arithmetic fails to add up? How can he know if he doesn't care?

The evidence for our dopey President's blind indifference to the truth (i.e. bullshit) is this bit on those pesky '16 words':

Frankfurt's definition is provocative because it allows for the little-recognized possibility that bullshit can be substantively true, and still be bullshit.
. . . . .
Did the FT's stories mean that the 16 words might not be bullshit? No. They meant the 16 words might be true, but still didn't legitimize the shoddy White House research that had led to their inclusion in the speech. When those words were written into the speech, the president and his staff lacked the evidence needed to support them. They were bullshitting. The 16 words therefore remain bullshit, and will continue to remain bullshit even if the charge is eventually proved true.

Smell that, kids? Unmistakable.

(Now maybe Rove'll pony up.)

[1] In subverting reason in favor of unsupported 'truisms' with which the choir might gladly sing along, this differs from an ad hominem argument which generally resorts to personal matters which are demonstrably true, such as 'Ted Kennedy is a drunk.' While Ted Kennedy is certainly a drunk, it is his ideology and not his tippling that's the problem and any mention of booze in political discourse would be inappropriate. So too the claim that 'Ted Kennedy is clearly untrustworthy.' That just doesn't cut it.)

[*]Correction: Not knowing Spanish I orignally typed 'mucho lucrativo' but upon proof-reading the post I realized it must be 'muy lucrativo' and have changed it accordingly. At least I didn't confuse things like nouns and adjectives in my native tongue.