Anderson edited "Leveraging: A Political, Economic and Societal Framework" (Springer, 2014), has taught at five universities and ran for the Democratic nomination for a Maryland congressional seat in 2016.
There are two problems with fact-based or data-based policy arguments. These problems are not insurmountable, but they are problems that must be addressed.
The first problem with any fact-based policy argument, whether it is a federal or state policy or a policy that is advanced in a company or a nonprofit organization, is that facts alone can never justify a change of action. Facts need values to move them in the same way that fuel cannot drive you to the hospital. You have to put the fuel into a car or a truck or a bus or a motorcycle.
Facts by themselves tell you how the world is. But if you want to change the world, or indeed some part of it, you need a reason or a set of reasons to justify and motivate you and others to change it. And those reasons must concern values of some kind -- justice or liberty or care or God's calling, whatever it is.
The same holds in court trials. A prosecutor cannot convict a defendant with facts alone, even eyewitness reports that the defendant shot someone in cold blood. The attorney, and the jury and the judge, must rely on laws (which are public values) that must be upheld. If you can prove that in fact someone broke the law, then your facts have done the job for you.
Fact-based or data-based arguments frequently presume that the facts or data alone will guide us in our actions. But without a clear value or set of values to guide us, the facts are inert. The same facts could be used to guide us in different directions depending on the values that we embrace, values which themselves may need support.
If the facts show that excessive smoking can cause cancer, then it must be determined whether the country or a given state is more concerned about promoting the values of economic freedom and economic growth or the values of health and public safety. Indeed, we have not outlawed smoking in any state, but many restrictions have been imposed upon the tobacco industry.
The same value conflicts arise when we are addressing factual debates concerning the coronavirus and public and private decisions that are needed concerning vaccines and masks.
The second problem with fact-based or data-based arguments is that there are frequently rival accounts of what the facts or data actually are. In trials, for example, each side presents and defends their view of the facts. In discussions of poverty, conservative and liberal social scientists present and defend their views of the facts. For every Brookings Institution, there is a Heritage Foundation. In quantum mechanics physicists have a range of factual disagreements about the motion of subatomic particles.
Admittedly, some camps in politics present views of the facts that are so strained and indefensible that it can seem unjustified to call their facts "facts" rather than make-believe or plain lies. Yet in politics there is no tribunal of reality to disqualify arguments given in electoral or issue politics on the grounds that the facts they employ are bogus or fake. In the end, there are only the votes cast by politicians and the votes cast by citizens for politicians and referendums.
The upshot is that both problems with the facts must be addressed by all sides. Having a fact-based argument in itself is insufficient because facts alone don't prove anything or guide any actions. Even if you hitch your facts to values, even widely accepted values, you still must confront others who dispute your account of the facts.
In short, wielding well-justified facts is always a good thing in moral arguments, in political arguments, and in organizational arguments. But having good facts is nothing to boast about. You must defend them vigorously and you must drive them with values.
As Democrats and Republicans continue to struggle over how to address child care, health care, universal pre-K, climate change, and paid parental leave in the social services bill, it is critical for the public to understand that strong arguments for new policies require a combination of convincing accounts of the facts and convincing accounts of the values.




















Eric Trump, the newly appointed ALT5 board director of World Liberty Financial, walks outside of the NASDAQ in Times Square as they mark the $1.5- billion partnership between World Liberty Financial and ALT5 Sigma with the ringing of the NASDAQ opening bell, on Aug. 13, 2025, in New York City.
Why does the Trump family always get a pass?
Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche joined ABC’s “This Week” on Sunday to defend or explain a lot of controversies for the Trump administration: the Epstein files release, the events in Minneapolis, etc. He was also asked about possible conflicts of interest between President Trump’s family business and his job. Specifically, Blanche was asked about a very sketchy deal Trump’s son Eric signed with the UAE’s national security adviser, Sheikh Tahnoon.
Shortly before Trump was inaugurated in early 2025, Tahnoon invested $500 million in the Trump-owned World Liberty, a then newly launched cryptocurrency outfit. A few months later, UAE was granted permission to purchase sensitive American AI chips. According to the Wall Street Journal, which broke the story, “the deal marks something unprecedented in American politics: a foreign government official taking a major ownership stake in an incoming U.S. president’s company.”
“How do you respond to those who say this is a serious conflict of interest?” ABC host George Stephanopoulos asked.
“I love it when these papers talk about something being unprecedented or never happening before,” Blanche replied, “as if the Biden family and the Biden administration didn’t do exactly the same thing, and they were just in office.”
Blanche went on to boast about how the president is utterly transparent regarding his questionable business practices: “I don’t have a comment on it beyond Trump has been completely transparent when his family travels for business reasons. They don’t do so in secret. We don’t learn about it when we find a laptop a few years later. We learn about it when it’s happening.”
Sadly, Stephanopoulos didn’t offer the obvious response, which may have gone something like this: “OK, but the president and countless leading Republicans insisted that President Biden was the head of what they dubbed ‘the Biden Crime family’ and insisted his business dealings were corrupt, and indeed that his corruption merited impeachment. So how is being ‘transparent’ about similar corruption a defense?”
Now, I should be clear that I do think the Biden family’s business dealings were corrupt, whether or not laws were broken. Others disagree. I also think Trump’s business dealings appear to be worse in many ways than even what Biden was alleged to have done. But none of that is relevant. The standard set by Trump and Republicans is the relevant political standard, and by the deputy attorney general’s own account, the Trump administration is doing “exactly the same thing,” just more openly.
Since when is being more transparent about wrongdoing a defense? Try telling a cop or judge, “Yes, I robbed that bank. I’ve been completely transparent about that. So, what’s the big deal?”
This is just a small example of the broader dysfunction in the way we talk about politics.
Americans have a special hatred for hypocrisy. I think it goes back to the founding era. As Alexis de Tocqueville observed in “Democracy In America,” the old world had a different way of dealing with the moral shortcomings of leaders. Rank had its privileges. Nobles, never mind kings, were entitled to behave in ways that were forbidden to the little people.
In America, titles of nobility were banned in the Constitution and in our democratic culture. In a society built on notions of equality (the obvious exceptions of Black people, women, Native Americans notwithstanding) no one has access to special carve-outs or exemptions as to what is right and wrong. Claiming them, particularly in secret, feels like a betrayal against the whole idea of equality.
The problem in the modern era is that elites — of all ideological stripes — have violated that bargain. The result isn’t that we’ve abandoned any notion of right and wrong. Instead, by elevating hypocrisy to the greatest of sins, we end up weaponizing the principles, using them as a cudgel against the other side but not against our own.
Pick an issue: violent rhetoric by politicians, sexual misconduct, corruption and so on. With every revelation, almost immediately the debate becomes a riot of whataboutism. Team A says that Team B has no right to criticize because they did the same thing. Team B points out that Team A has switched positions. Everyone has a point. And everyone is missing the point.
Sure, hypocrisy is a moral failing, and partisan inconsistency is an intellectual one. But neither changes the objective facts. This is something you’re supposed to learn as a child: It doesn’t matter what everyone else is doing or saying, wrong is wrong. It’s also something lawyers like Mr. Blanche are supposed to know. Telling a judge that the hypocrisy of the prosecutor — or your client’s transparency — means your client did nothing wrong would earn you nothing but a laugh.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.