The "Both Sides Do It" Fallacy

How false equivalence sabotages truth, corrodes accountability, and dumbs down public discourse

It happens like clockwork. Someone presents a clear-cut case of corruption, hypocrisy, or abuse by a political figure or movement, and just as the conversation approaches clarity, someone nervously shifts in their seat and sighs, "Well… both sides do it."

And just like that, the conversation flatlines. Moral momentum is halted, intellectual energy deflated, and any hope of civic clarity dies under the crushing weight of false equivalence.

Here's the disturbing truth: most people who say "both sides do it" aren't being malicious — they're being automatic. They believe, almost reflexively, that this phrase is a kind of foundational political wisdom. Like gravity or sunrise, it just is.

They don't mean to destroy discourse. But that's precisely what happens.

The phrase "both sides do it" is the last refuge of those who want the appearance of thoughtfulness without the burden of actual judgment. It's the rhetorical security blanket for those allergic to accountability. And far from being wise or fair, it is one of the most corrosive mantras in modern political life.

It sounds reasonable, of course. Don't flawed human beings run all political parties? Isn't there corruption or spin across the board? Of course.

Let's be fair: most people who use this phrase aren't trying to dodge reality or silence discussion. They believe they're being reasonable — injecting a dose of balance into a world gone mad with partisanship. But that's precisely what makes this reflex so dangerous. It feels like a virtue. It sounds like wisdom. And yet it quietly removes the responsibility to evaluate, compare, and discern. In the name of being fair, it allows falsehood and truth to sit side by side, unjudged.

"Both sides do it" doesn't function as a humble admission of human fallibility — it functions as a conversation-ending cliché designed to avoid uncomfortable truths.

Because while human nature is universal, moral outcomes are not. All flaws are not created equal. All errors are not interchangeable. The drunk driver and the serial killer may both break the law, but only a fool would shrug and say, "Well, both sides commit crimes."

Take history. Both the North and South had imperfect men, selfish motives, and political gamesmanship. However, only one side went to war to preserve the Right to own another human being. "Both sides" may have had baggage, but only one carried the chains.

In modern politics, the "both sides" reflex has become a kind of secular catechism—a way to avoid offending anyone while undermining the truth itself. It's the reason people look at riots, institutional censorship, or election denial and say, "Well, the other side does bad things too," without ever bothering to measure scope, intent, or consequence.

Let's be clear: the radical Left has redefined gender, criminalized dissent, and racialized every human interaction. The far Right has its own fringes — conspiracy peddlers and grievance hucksters. However, it is dishonest to pretend that these extremes are equal in terms of institutional power, cultural influence, or the ability to shape law, language, and education.

When one side demands adherence to biological reality and the other demands you pretend men can get pregnant — that's not a draw. When one side wants to reduce taxes and the other wants to abolish the nuclear family — that's not a tie. And when one side accuses the other of "disinformation" while openly coordinating with tech monopolies to silence dissent — that's not hypocrisy; it's dictatorship delivered by algorithm.

The "both sides" fallacy is not merely a lazy approach. It's dangerous. It enables the worst actors to continue unchallenged. It trains the public to view moral clarity as "bias" and to view cowardice as "balance." It demoralizes reformers, energizes cynics, and sends a clear signal: the truth doesn't matter — only optics do.

Worse still, it feeds into the postmodern narrative that objective truth is unknowable and therefore irrelevant. If everyone is lying, why bother discerning? If all sides are corrupt, why bother resisting? If nothing is better, then nothing matters. And when nothing matters, the only people who win are those who are the most shameless, not the most right.

This is how civilizations decay — not from conflict, but from confusion. From the slow, silent erosion of moral distinctions until good and evil, truth and lie, courage and cowardice all blur into a single gray fog of equivocation.

But here's the truth: discernment is not partisanship. Judgment is not bigotry. And recognizing which side is lying, which side is advancing destruction, and which side is connected to reality does not make you biased — it makes you awake.

America doesn't need more moderates. It needs more people who are willing to speak plainly. Who can say "That's wrong" without padding it with a disclaimer. Who understand that justice isn't served by treating all claims equally, but by treating all claims honestly.

So the next time someone says, "Both sides do it," don't roll your eyes — challenge them gently. Ask them what they mean. Ask whether they've thought it through. Ask whether one side might actually be more dangerous, more delusional, or more destructive than the other. Ask them whether they believe moral clarity is even possible — and if not, what the point of politics is at all.

Because "both sides" don't lie equally. They don't destroy equally. They don't want the same America. And pretending otherwise doesn't make you wise — it makes you complicit.

Truth doesn’t need your neutrality. It needs your courage.