Among Aristotle’s nonverbal fallacies, what is known as the fallacy of accident, in the simplest cases, amounts to at least a confusion between different senses of verbs for being. Because Aristotle’s handling of these verbs differs from contemporary treatments, his discussion of this fallacy has no direct counterpart in modern logic. One of his examples is the fallacious inference from (1) “Coriscus is different from Socrates” (i.e., Coriscus is not Socrates) and (2) “Socrates is a man” to (3) “Coriscus is different from a man” (i.e., Coriscus is not a man). The modern understanding of this fallacy is that the sense of “is” in 1 is different from the sense of “is” in 2: in 1 it is an “is” of identity, whereas in 2 it is an “is” of predication. Aristotle’s explanation is that the same things cannot always be said of both a predicate and the thing of which it is predicated—in other words, predication is not transitive.

What is known as the fallacy of secundum quid is a confusion between unqualified and qualified forms of a sentence. The fallacy with the quaint title “ignorance of refutation” is best understood from a modern point of view as a mistake concerning precisely what is to be proved or disproved in an argument.

Nonfallacial mistakes in reasoning and related errors

Some of the most common mistakes in reasoning are not usually discussed under the heading of fallacies. Some of them depend upon a confusion about the respective scope of different terms, which often amounts to a confusion about their logical priority. The phrase “farm machine or vehicle,” for example, can mean either “farm (machine or vehicle)” or “(farm machine) or vehicle.” In natural language, scope mistakes sometimes take the form of a confusion regarding what is the head, or antecedent, of an anaphoric pronoun. For example, the statement “The winner of the Oscar for best performance by an actress was Katherine Hepburn, but I thought that she was Ingrid Bergman” can mean either “The winner of the Oscar for best performance by an actress was Katherine Hepburn, but I thought that the winner of the Oscar for best performance by an actress was Ingrid Bergman” or “The winner of the Oscar for best performance by an actress was Katherine Hepburn, but I thought that Katherine Hepburn was Ingrid Bergman.”

A philosophically important scope distinction, known as the distinction between statements de dicto (Latin: “from saying”) and statements de re (“from the thing”), is illustrated in the following example. The sentence “The president of the United States is a powerful person” can mean either “Whoever is the president of the United States is a powerful person” or “The person who in fact is the president of the United States is a powerful person.” In general, a referring expression (“the president of the United States”) in its de dicto reading picks out whoever or whatever may satisfy a certain condition, while in its de re reading it picks out the person or thing that in fact satisfies that condition. Thus, there can be mistakes in reasoning based on a confusion between a de dicto reading and a de re reading. A related mistake is to assume that the two readings correspond to two irreducible meanings of the expression in question, rather than to the form of the sentence in which the expression is contained.

Several of the traditional fallacies are not mistakes in logical reasoning but rather mistakes in the process of knowledge seeking through questioning (i.e., in an interrogative game). For example, the fallacy of many questions—illustrated by questions such as “have you stopped beating your wife?”—consists of asking a question whose presupposition has not been established. It can be considered a violation of the definitory rules of an interrogative game. The fallacy known as begging the question—in Latin petitio principii—originally meant answering the “big” or principal question that an entire inquiry is supposed to answer by means of answers to several “small” questions. It can be considered a violation of the strategic rules of an interrogative game. Later, however, begging the question came to mean circular reasoning, or circulus in probando.

Some of the modes of reasoning traditionally listed in inventories of fallacies are not necessarily mistaken, though they can easily lead to misuses. For example, ad hominem reasoning literally means reasoning by reference to a person rather than by reference to the argument itself. It has been variously characterized as using certain admissions of, or facts about, a person against him in an argument. Ad hominem arguments based on admissions are routinely and legitimately used in adversarial systems of law in the examination and cross-examination of witnesses. (In the United States, persons who are arrested are typically informed that “anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”) In a different walk of life, Socrates engaged in a kind of philosophical conversation in which he put questions to others and then used their answers to refute opinions they had earlier expressed. Ad hominem arguments based on facts about a person can be acceptable in a courtroom setting, as when a cross-examining attorney uses facts about a witness’s eyesight or veracity to discredit his testimony. This kind of ad hominem criticism becomes fallacious, however, when it is strictly irrelevant to the conclusion the arguer wishes to establish or refute.

Some so-called fallacies are not mistakes in reasoning but rather illicit rhetorical ploys, such as appeals to pity (traditionally called the fallacy of ad misericordiam), to authority (ad verecundiam), or to popular opinion (ad populum).

Modes of human reasoning that are (or seem) fallacious have been studied in cognitive psychology. Especially interesting work in this area was done by two Israeli-born psychologists, Amos Tversky and Daniel Kahneman, who developed a theory according to which human reasoners are inherently prone to making certain kinds of cognitive mistakes. These mistakes include the conjunctive fallacy, in which added information increases the perceived reliability of a statement, though the laws of probability dictate that the addition of information reduces the likelihood that the statement is true. In another alleged fallacy, sometimes called the “juror’s fallacy,” the reasoner fails to take into account what are known as base-rate probabilities. For example, assume that an eyewitness to a hit-and-run accident is 80 percent sure that the taxicab involved was green. Should a jury simply assume that the probability that the taxicab was green is 80 percent, or should it also take into account the fact that only 15 percent of all taxicabs in the city are green? Despite great interest in such alleged cognitive fallacies, it is still controversial whether they really are mistakes.