Knowing how to distinguish an internal critique from an external critique is essential for serious argumentation, especially in debate. A lot of people fail at this point because they either collapse the two into one another, confuse them, or simply do not know which kind of argument they are advancing. Here is the basic distinction. An internal critique takes the beliefs, assumptions, or commitments of the position being criticized and attempts to show that, from within that position itself, there follows a contradiction, inconsistency, or unacceptable implication. In other words, the critique works by saying, “Given your own commitments, your view seems to generate a problem.” An external critique, by contrast, does not primarily try to show that the position contradicts itself. Rather, it argues that the position is inferior when compared against some other set of beliefs, values, ethical principles, or explanatory commitments. The claim is not merely, “Your view is inconsistent,” but rather, “Your view is less plausible than this alternative.” So before you make an argument against any position, you should slow down and ask: what kind of case am I making? Am I offering an internal critique, an external critique, or some combination of both? You do not need to be overly rigid here. Both kinds of critiques can be used together. But you do need to know which one you are using, because the way you argue and the burden you carry will be different. Take the claim, for example, that “the God of the Old Testament is not loving.” There are already several assumptions baked into that claim, but the first question to ask is this: is this being offered as an internal critique or an external one? If it is an internal critique, then the critic must show that the internal commitments of the biblical or Christian worldview generate a contradiction with the Old Testament portrayal of God. They would need to show that, given Christianity’s own moral and theological framework, the God depicted in the Old Testament cannot coherently be called loving.

You already know what it is 🔥 It’s that time again, and we’re back on for another round of Wednesday calls. Last week went super well. You guys really stepped up your argumentation and got sharper at spotting bad arguments. Today we’re running it back with the same approach, but with a slight twist I think you’re going to like. I’m so looking forward to seeing all of you back at it, ready to think hard and become absolute killers in your apologetic. See you on the call.

It’s that time again 🎉 Wednesday objection handling and real-time apologetics conversation training 💯 Super excited to be back for another week with you all. Looking forward to seeing what everyone brings. Let’s get it 🙌🏽

Hey guys, Matt here. For now, I plan on doing MONTHLY group calls starting NEXT TUESDAY June 9 @ 1:00pm EST If you’re interested in taking your apologetics online, I’m more than happy to help you during these calls. I have over 13 years of social media management experience and have managed influencers (including IP) and businesses, in many different niches. I’ll add this event to the group calendar shortly, but I wanted to give everyone a heads up beforehand so that you don’t miss this event. See you guys then! 😎

If you’ve been on the internet for any significant period of time, you’ve come across creators, comments, and debates where someone throws around the phrase “that’s a bad answer” or “that doesn’t answer the problem.” But for whatever reason, no one has stopped to ask: what do we mean by “good answer”? This has always baffled me. If both parties (assuming good intent) desire to be as objective as possible, then why has this notion of “a good answer” not been unpacked or precisified? It seems like the most obvious and fundamental step to take. And yet, mainstream apologetics never stops to first provide clarity. Here’s what we don’t want: a good answer being one where the person receiving the answer feels satisfied. Why? Because that turns something objective into something psychological. If our goal is to track the truth, then why is our litmus test for rationality someone’s psychological state, rather than the merit of the reasons given? That is clearly not the right way to go. Ultimately, we don’t care about the psychology of answers, but the epistemology of answers. Epistemology concerns anything to do with giving reasons for a belief. In apologetics, epistemology is the cornerstone of what we do. So the question becomes: what is the right epistemology of answers? And to that, we turn to a fun little concept called “ad hocness.” You’ve probably heard this term used a lot. “That’s ad hoc!” someone declares, as though the rest of the discussion is now moot. However, there’s quite a bit to say about this concept, and it’s much more nuanced than many make it out to be. Ad hocness occurs when the explanation given to save the truth of one’s belief(s) cannot be ascertained from the principles within that person’s already-held framework. In other words: when resisting having one’s belief(s) defeated, if what’s appealed to is not already expected within their system, it’s said to be ad hoc. Now, you can already see how most who throw around the term do not use it in this rigorous of a manner. Keep note of that.