“Editorial Fatigue” Explains Nothing

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The Illogic of Markan Priority

25 min readJun 9, 2023

This Synoptic Problem Solution Is Circular, Reversible, and Specious

I’ll start with a disclaimer. I’ll spend a lot of this essay harshly critiquing arguments by the world famous Religious Studies Professor, Dr. Mark Goodacre, who is the chief modern advocate of editorial fatigue. None of this, whatsoever, is personal against Dr. Goodacre. I think he’s a brilliant man and gifted educator. I also find him to be sincere and humble in his work, unlike some others. This is purely an engagement on the merits of the arguments themselves — something he expressly invited us to do¹— so please take it in that spirit.

What is “Editorial Fatigue?”

The best way to describe “editorial fatigue” is from the explanation provided by Professor Goodacre himself:

“The most decisive indicator of Markan Priority is evidence that Matthew and Luke made characteristic changes in the early part of pericopae where they were rewriting Mark, lapsing into the wording of their source later in the same pericopae, so producing an inconsistency or an incoherence that betrayed their knowledge of Mark.” (emphasis added). Mark Goodacre, The Synoptic Problem: A Way Through the Maze, p. 82.

Elements

Accepting this definition, there are three essential elements to the “phenomenon.” And we’ll discuss why “phenomenon” is a misnomer later. The elements are:

A narrative inconsistency between one account and another
A characteristic change that may explain the inconsistency
A relapse to prior copying betraying a reliance on the internally consistent copied source.

Explanatory Power?

Editorial Fatigue is heralded for its explanatory power. It’s touted as the “phenomenon” that helps modern scholars best see why the Gospel of Mark was first. But as we’ll show definitively here — there is no power in the argument at all. Editorial Fatigue is a circular, and thus logically fallacious, argument on the issue of priority. That is, it cannot be used to prove priority, since it requires the presumption of priority already in its proof. I’ve covered this earlier in a post focusing primarily on the fallaciousness of editorial fatigue, but we’ll expand on the argument in greater detail here.

Irreversible?

Additionally, one of the alleged strengths of editorial fatigue is that it’s argued to be irreversible — that is, it only occurs in one direction. Professor Goodacre says:

“There are undoubtedly several inconsistencies and clumsy expressions in Mark’s Gospel, incoherences that on the standard view Matthew and Luke have taken care to tidy-up. But this is different from the phenomenon of fatigue …[I]n most cases, Matthew and Luke differ from Mark at the beginning of the pericope, at the point where they are writing most characteristically, and they agree with Mark later in the pericope, where they are writing less characteristically. It is not possible to find the same phenomenon in Mark.”² (emphasis added)

As we walk through examples here, I will show how demonstrably false this claim is. Editorial fatigue is not only reversible, but it arguably has better examples in the other direction. And don’t worry, I’ll address the editorial fatigue examples on the “merits” as well, assuming for the sake of argument that the circularity and reversibility arguments don’t dispose of them already. We’ll still see that editorial fatigue arguments are specious, and fail to explain anything we don’t already presume them to “explain.”

In short, editorial fatigue fails on multiple grounds, including when framed in its most charitable light. So let’s shine that light on some of the examples advocates put forth.

Deep Dive Into Editorial Fatigue

In this section, we’ll look at cases for editorial fatigue put forth by the proponents, examining them primarily on the “merits,” adopting the presumptions of editorial fatigue, and accepting the framework. When descriptions of intentions of the Gospel authors are discussed, or where commentary on observations is offered (e.g. “Mark added X,” “Matthew carelessly did Y”), it’s merely intended to put the arguments in the light used by the proponents of editorial fatigue. Unless explicitly stated otherwise, I’m not adopting the presumptions and characterizations as my own.

Herod the Tetrarch

In this example, universally cited by proponents of editorial fatigue, we have the infamous story of how Herod Antipas came to behead John the Baptist. The argument here is that Mark refers to Herod as “king” consistently throughout his narrative. But Matthew starts out by making a “characteristic change,” in this case by accurately referring to Herod Antipas as “tetrarch” before slipping back to calling Herod “king.” Matthew’s “change” is considered characteristic because he’s known for accuracy and this particular Herod (there were many) was not technically a king, as in a monarch who rules an entire region. Rather, Herod Antipas was a lesser tetrarch, which is one of four monarchs who each rule sovereignly over a quarter of a divided kingdom. Antipas was the tetrarch of the region including Galilee where the events recounted here took place. The argument is that we have our three elements: 1) a characteristic change that, 2) creates an inconsistency which is, 3) revealed later when the author lapses back into copying.

There is No Inconsistency

Presuming we have a characteristic change, we then ask, is there an inconsistency? At first glance, it appears there is. Matthew starts out by referring to a “tetrarch” but then seems to lazily slip back into referring to Herod as king. Silly Matthew has just “betrayed” his reliance on Mark — or has he? Closer inspection shows no inconsistency at all.

When Matthew refers to Herod Antipas by his proper name, he calls him “Herod the tetrarch.” Matthew is using a proper name here. When he’s otherwise referring to Herod Antipas generically as the person, without using the proper title, he simply calls him the common noun, king. But never “King Herod.” And Matthew never calls him “the tetrarch” and it appears that no other ancient writer did so either. For example, Luke only refers to him as “Herod the tetrarch.” In fact, of the 5 times the word “tetrarch” appears in the Bible³ — four from Luke/Acts and once from Matthew — it’s always as either exactly as “Herod the tetrarch” or as in Luke 3:1 where Luke describes the office of Antipas, saying “Herod was tetrarch of Galilee.” But “tetrarch” is never used as the common noun to describe the person. For example, “the tetrarch said X” or “the tetrarch grew angry” etc.

It’s pretty clear what’s happening here. At the time of writing tetrarch was only ever used in Judea as a part of a proper noun or in describing the office. If one was referring generically to the person serving as tetrarch, rather than their role, “the king” was used instead. For example, “the king commanded it” rather than “the tetrarch commanded it.” And this makes sense, since to a person from Galilee, the tetrarch was the sole sovereign anyway (of course, setting aside the Romans), i.e. their de facto king. This is pretty basic. And it’s supported by extra biblical sources such as in Ignatius’ Letter to the Smyrnaeans, as well as in Josephus. These sources only use the proper noun, “Herod the tetrarch,” or describe the office Antipas held, e.g. “he appointed Antipas…to be tetrarch.”⁴ But I couldn’t find anywhere in antiquity where “the tetrarch” was used by itself as a common noun descriptor.

It is akin to line workers referring to the Shift Supervisor as “the boss” or “chief.” In their world, this would be correct and make sense. But the Shift Supervisor is technically not the “boss” or “chief.” That would be, for example, the CEO. However, if asked for a proper name or title, the workers would describe the “chief” as “Tim the Shift Supervisor.” They wouldn’t say “Boss Tim” or “Chief Tim.” And if talking amongst themselves or telling a story, they’d be more likely to say “my boss said…” or “the chief wants to see you” rather than “the shift supervisor wants to see you.” In short, Matthew was justified both in using “the king” and “Herod the tetrarch” in the manner he did, and there is no inconsistency.

Assuming Inconsistency, We Have Circularity Problems

So without an inconsistency, there really isn’t anything to this one. But for the sake of argument, let’s assume this is an inconsistency. After all, Mark calls Antipas “King Herod” instead of “Herod the tetrarch,” but Mark remains consistent and always uses “king.” It’s still worth noting that Mark opens by using a proper title here, “King Herod,” so that fits with the analysis that “Herod the tetrarch” was also the proper name.

Is there some reason Mark couldn’t have come after Matthew and changed “Herod the tetrarch” to “King Herod?” Assuming King Herod is the inaccurate term, Mark is wrong no matter what order he’s writing in. Mark could just as easily have come along and chosen to use the word “King” to create consistency in the otherwise “inconsistent” Matthew. Hence, the circularity problem we have with editorial fatigue arguments generally. They always depend on what priority we assume in framing the analysis.

Or, perhaps because of his poorer Greek (see my YouTube video on this), Mark wasn’t familiar with the word tetrarch. Antipas’ tetrarchy ended in 39AD, and after that there was briefly a true “king” before the Romans took control of Judea entirely. It’s more likely that “tetrarch” would have been a term used by someone from Galilee at the time of Antipas, but which would be meaningless to someone writing later or from outside Judea. At the very least, Mark’s usage of the title “King Herod,” by itself, cannot be used as a basis to argue that Mark was prior since it in no way indicates it was the more “primitive” usage.

Herod’s “Deep Sadness”

There’s a second argument in this passage used to support editorial fatigue. In Matthew, it’s Herod that wants John killed and so it seems to be inconsistent when Herod is grieved later by having to behead John. Mark doesn’t have this alleged inconsistency because Mark has Herodias, Herod’s “illegitimate” wife, as the one wanting to kill John. Thus, it makes sense that Herod is grieved later in Mark, but not in sloppy Matthew (Matthew’s sloppiness and his precision both prove fatigue). But again, is there a genuine inconsistency here? Once again, no. We don’t force inconsistencies when the plain reading gives us a coherent answer.

Both passages have Herod in fear of killing John. In Matthew he “feared the crowd, because they regarded John as a prophet” and in Mark “Herod was afraid of John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man.” So when Herod orders John’s beheading, it should be no surprise that slightly different wording is used to describe his emotions. In Mark, where Herod feared John himself because of his righteousness, Herod was “very sorry,” the Greek word περίλυπος or “perilypos.”⁵ This is also translated as “extremely sad.” Is that the same emotion Herod had in Matthew? No. In Matthew, where Herod feared the crowds rather than John himself, Herod was “grieved,” the Greek word λυπέω or “lypeō.” This can also be translated as distressed, sorry, or uneasy. It makes perfect sense that a leader who was afraid of the people’s reaction would be grieved, or distressed, by killing John — more for himself and his office, than for John. Still, in both passages, it’s possible that Herod is sad because of John or sad because of the crowds, or both. Silence on one doesn’t eliminate the other. But in short, there’s no inconsistency here.

The argument that in Mark’s Gospel it was Herodias that wanted John put to death, rather than Herod, is irrelevant. It certainly makes sense that she had an additional reason to want John killed, but the silence about Herod’s own desires doesn’t preclude Herod from also wanting John killed. And again, Herod was more “distressed” than sad in Matthew’s account. There’s just no reason to wedge in an inconsistency here when the plain language gives us reasonable, consistent interpretations.

Summary of the Herod Passages

So to wrap up, there is no case for editorial fatigue here. In my opinion, this argument had the most potential of all the editorial fatigue examples cited by proponents. And it still failed. That’s because when the editorial fatigue argument for the “tetrarch” passages is viewed charitably, the circularity rebuttal is weakest against it. All editorial fatigue arguments are circular by definition. That is, when the consistent passage is placed first, it appears there is fatigue, and when the inconsistent passage is first, it appears there is resolution of inconsistencies. But the “resolving inconsistencies” argument would have been a bit weaker in this “tetrarch” example, where Mark may very well have been resolving an inconsistency but then introduced a separate inaccuracy by wrongly referring to Antipas as “King Herod.” It’s certainly possible and no less circular than the alternative. But in this case, since there is no inconsistency to resolve in the first place, that issue is moot.

Cleansing of the Leper

Let’s take a look at another famous example. It’s the story of the “Cleansing of the Leper” of which Professor Goodacre refers to the editorial fatigue finding as “striking.”⁶ The argument here is that after Jesus cleanses the leper, he instructs the man to “tell no one.” In Matthew, so the argument goes, this doesn’t make sense because earlier in the pericope, Matthew says “large crowds” had followed Jesus. “Crowds” are apparently a calling card of Matthew. In Mark, we don’t have this alleged inconsistency because Mark never introduces Matthew’s large or “many” crowds. Thus, according to Professor Goodacre, it’s “inexplicable that a miracle that has been witnessed by many crowds is to be kept secret.”⁷ Let’s ignore for now some easy counter-arguments which show that this is far from “inexplicable” and just accept the argument as presented for our analysis.

Circular Reasoning

We’ll start with what’s easy, and always true. This argument is circular. Assuming this inconsistency is so “inexplicable,” it follows logically that Mark could just as easily have come afterwards and removed the “large crowds” reference. It’s crucial to understand that this is just as likely an explanation of the observation — resolving inconsistencies — as is the editorial fatigue explanation. Arguably it’s better.

Observation vs. Explanation

This is a good point to mention what’s really happening here. Editorial fatigue has been described as a “phenomenon.” The phenomenon, to the extent there is one at all, is that there is an apparent inconsistency in the pericope of one Gospel, where the other Gospel has no inconsistency. That’s really more of an “observation.” And editorial fatigue is an explanation of that observation — or if you’re into hyperbole — phenomenon. But editorial fatigue is no more a phenomenon than is the counter option that can also explain the observation — that is, the author is resolving inconsistencies. Keep this in mind as we go through additional cases.

Is There Really An Inconsistency?

So getting back to our Cleansing the Leper example, we’ll again ask if it’s really true that Mark doesn’t have large crowds. In the two preceding verses to this one, we have in Mark 1:38–39, “He said to them, “Let us go somewhere else to the towns nearby, so that I may preach there also; for that is what I came for.” And He went into their synagogues throughout all Galilee, preaching and casting out the demons.” Right after this, the leper comes to Jesus (no pun intended). If Jesus is going to towns and preaching in synagogues, is there any reason why a reader should presume there are no “crowds” there? Who is Jesus preaching to? Himself?

No Crowds? Really?

To the extent you still might be thinking this is ambiguous, we have Mark 1:45 which discusses what the healed man did after getting Jesus’ warning. It reads: “But he went out and began to proclaim it freely and to spread the news around, to such an extent that Jesus could no longer publicly enter a city, but stayed out in unpopulated areas; and they were coming to Him from everywhere.” So the man runs off and does what? He proclaims to the crowds what happened. And he was so effective that Jesus could no longer go in public. If he could no longer go in public, then…You get it. He must have already been in public previously.

Striking Inconsistencies Undermine Editorial Fatigue

But the bottom line is, are we really supposed to buy this as an inexplicable inconsistency? It doesn’t even make sense to argue this as inconsistent, given the possible explanations. The least sensible read of Mark’s narrative, given the context, is that there were no other eyewitnesses to Jesus’ healing, especially given the verses preceding and following his version. And if Mark’s version is considered “consistent,” knowing there must have been witnesses to Jesus healing the leper in that account, then there is no reason to force a solitude requirement on Matthew.

Additionally, there are so many charitable ways to look at the passage in Matthew. The man could have been up close, and away from the immediate crowds. Some smaller portion of the crowds may have seen it, but not the rest. Perhaps some people saw something happen but weren’t sure what it was. Etc. Until each of these are eliminated as possibilities, it’s fallacious to read this passage in a way that renders it nonsensical.

Lastly, if we are to keep up this silly argument, we have to deal with another problem. Luke explicitly has Jesus healing the man in “one of the cities” in his Gospel,⁸ and yet Luke has the “inexplicable” command from Jesus to tell “no-one.” Does this mean that Luke also fatigued? And in the exact same way?

So without an obvious inconsistency, we don’t have the “phenomenon.” And, again, if we’re forced to accept that this is so “strikingly” inconsistent, we need to understand why this isn’t just as explainable, if not moreso, with Mark coming later to resolve it. The more striking the “inconsistency,” the weaker the editorial fatigue argument gets with respect to priority. Because obvious errors are just as likely (if not more) to be fixed by later writers as they are to be explained by prior writers losing focus.

Stilling of the Storm

Matthew “Fatiguing” Copying Mark (copied from Ian Mills — https://youtu.be/8FV2CrIv6xU (21:53))

Before turning to the reversible examples, let’s quickly look at the example of Jesus stilling the storm. I’ve taken this excerpt from a YouTube podcast featuring Religious Studies Professor, Dr. Ian Mills. In this example, foolish, careless Matthew — yeah, the one also known for attention to detail — adds in his “characteristic” word “earthquake” to the passage to describe a tumultuous natural event in the sea. Editorial fatigue proponents argue that this creates an inconsistency when later Matthew has Jesus “rebuking” the wind, because earthquakes don’t cause wind. How foolish of Matthew.

What Was the Actual Weather Phenomenon?

Matthew also says the “boat was being swamped by the waves.” So what causes waves in the sea? According to the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration “waves are most commonly caused by wind.”⁹ This is why nearly every Bible translation of the word Matthew uses here: σεισμός or “seismos”— which does also mean earthquake — translates the word as “great storm” or “great tempest” instead.¹⁰ I couldn’t find one that translates this as “earthquake.” This isn’t a fudge. The context of the word’s use suggests a “violent shaking causing winds and waves” in the sea. When translators translate from one language into another, they use the context to aid them. It would be a silly reading, and thus silly translation, to read this as a standard, land-based, earthquake. Even if Matthew was referring to a “windless” earthquake in the sea — and I want to be clear, that is absolutely a possible reading — it would be a stretch to read this passage that literally. That’s because the determination that this was truly an earthquake at sea which generated windless waves, i.e. the definition of a tsunami, would require a meteorological sophistication Matthew would have been unlikely to have. In other words, we’d have to argue that the writer of Matthew literally meant tsunami rather than any other violent sea storm, e.g. hurricane. And the other parts of the passage strongly suggest that is not what Matthew meant here.

Yes, a tsunami can cause waves without wind, but that then leads us to the next observation. Matthew says Jesus “rebuked the wind and the sea.” So we could read this in totality as a careless mistake where Matthew used the wrong word, or we could read this the way the translators do. That is, the writer of Matthew meant to describe a chaotic event in the sea which caused waves to crash and nearly topple the boat. And the waves were caused by winds — by far the most common cause of waves. And Jesus rebuked both the winds and the waves as written.

Principle of Charity

Now, some may pushback and say this is apology. But basic principles of literary criticism, and logic, require us to first try to resolve a potential inconsistency with a charitable interpretation that avoids an inconsistency where none is required.¹¹ It seems that Biblical scholars do the opposite. They presume errors and inconsistencies first, even when equally viable charitable options are available. In logic, this needlessly results in strawmen, ad hominems, and other fallacies.

Circularity Issues Remain

But even if we went ahead and called this a tsunami, as always this “inconsistency” would be ripe for a resolution by a later writer. And so, again, we have a circularity issue based on how we review the observation here.

The Reversibility of Editorial Fatigue

The most critical aspect to editorial fatigue is that the argument is alleged to be irreversible. It’s easy to see why this is essential for the case. If editorial fatigue arguments can apply in both directions, then one would be able to infer little, if anything, from the editorial fatigue explanation as it relates to priority. We’ve harped on the circularity problem for editorial fatigue. But circularity alone, while fallacious, doesn’t mean per se an argument is wrong. But a circular AND reversible argument would be essentially worthless. In sum, for editorial fatigue to have any value whatsoever, it must be irreversible.

For the editorial fatigue argument to be reversible, an example would need to include all three of the elements: 1) inconsistency, 2) characteristic change, and 3) lapsing to copying. This means it would need to be an “inconsistent” Markan passage (all the editorial fatigue examples cited by Markan prioritists have, by their definition, “consistent” Markan passages), with either a consistent Matthean or Lukan one. So let’s look at some examples.

Unclean Spirit or Spirits?

A “striking” exchange occurs in Mark. A man possessed by an “unclean spirit” approaches Jesus. He shouts in a loud voice and asks Jesus “what business” Jesus has with him, begging of Jesus: “do not torment ‘me’”. Jesus then commands the singular “unclean spirit” to come out of the man. The demon refers to himself as “Legion” because there are many. But each of the references in Mark to this point is to a singular entity. But in Matthew, it’s different. In the analogous parts, Matthew has “they cried out…” and the man (or demon) asks Jesus “have you come to torment ‘us’ before our time?” Each of Matthew’s early references are to a plural. As the story continues, both passages have Jesus driving out plural unclean spirits and all of the previously singular references in Mark become references to plural spirits. Additionally, the reference to Legion seems to have been forgotten, as it is never mentioned again.

A Characteristic Change?

Let’s examine what we have. First, do we have a characteristic “change”¹²? Yes. We have two very “Markan” findings here. The first is Mark’s “addition” of extra details. Mark routinely has more descriptive detail in shared passages than does Matthew or Luke in the corresponding pericope. One need look no further than the example above. The second is Mark’s addition of a proper name, here “Legion.” Several proper names appear only in Mark. Mark often includes personal names, but Luke and Matthew never include names that Mark does not also include.¹³

Narrative Inconsistency?

There is little question of an “inconsistency” here, and that’s especially true when compared with the other editorial fatigue arguments advanced by the Markan prioritists. The man, or the spirit speaking through the man, is very clearly singular in the early passages. This is consistent with Mark’s “goal” of personifying “Legion” and giving the unclean spirit a singular identity.

To highlight the contrast here, we can see how the same demon-possessed man describes himself early. He says: “I implore you by God, do not torment me” but then later he says: “Send us into the swine so that we may enter them.” Even if we argue that Legion means “many,” the early passages clearly have Legion referring to itself as a singular entity, in contrast to Matthew.

Lapsing Into Copying?

If we’re arguing editorial fatigue, it appears that Mark started with a characteristic change, introducing detail to Matthew’s account, including personal names which Mark is known for. But then he lapsed into copying Matthew later in the pericope creating an inconsistency.¹⁴

Summary

All told, this is a far more compelling case of “fatigue” than any of the ones advanced by the Markan prioritists. And it was not difficult to find. Of course, as always, a later Matthew could have seen the inconsistent account in Mark, and fixed it. Hence why editorial fatigue proves nothing at all. One case is probably enough to illustrate reversibility (a statistical analysis of why is beyond the scope here), but there are others.

Commissioning the Twelve

To add strength to the reversibility argument, I‘ve added an example of Mark “fatiguing” against Luke as well to address any rebuttals that this is a one-off to Matthew. In this example, we have Jesus sending out his Apostles in pairs to ministry. And he instructs them to take nothing with them. In Luke, the Apostles are instructed to go with “neither a staff, nor a bag, nor bread, nor money.” We have the same thing in Mark: “no bread, no bag, no money in their belt” but Mark adds in “ — but to wear sandals.” Again, this is “characteristic” additional detail from Mark. The implication with this inclusion is that wearing sandals was not an obvious part of the instructions. For example, in Matthew’s version of the story, we have Jesus telling the apostles not to take sandals: “Do not acquire gold, or silver, or copper for your money belts, or a bag for your journey, or even two coats, or sandals, or a staff; for the worker is worthy of his support.”¹⁵

Mark adds in this detail about sandals, but then later in the passage seems to lapse into lazily copying Luke. Both Mark and Luke recite Jesus’ instruction for handling those who reject the Apostles’ preaching: rebuke them by shaking “the dust off the soles of your feet.” This makes perfect sense in Luke and Matthew¹⁶ since the Apostles are barefoot, but not in Mark since the sand would be on their sandals, rather than the soles of their feet. Again, is this wildly impressive? That’s up to you. But it does fit the pattern: characteristic change, creating an inconsistency, and evidence of lapsing back to copying. It’s certainly no less compelling than the “earthquake” at sea or cleansing the leper.

A Couple “Minor” Examples

We don’t need more examples to make the case that editorial fatigue is reversible, and thus supremely worthless as an argument for (or even against) Markan priority. But I stumbled on this next one accidentally while looking for something else entirely (these were surprisingly easy to find given the boldness of the claims against reversibility).

TALITHA CUMI-Giclée Canvas Art Painting of Jesus Raising Jairus’ Daughter

Synagogue Official’s Daughter

I love this passage because of the phrase ‘Talitha kum!” Regardless of your religious predisposition, it’s a cute little story and it has some interesting historical flair (e.g. use of Aramaic). This is the story of Jairus, the synagogue official, whose daughter is near death. We learn the name of the official from Mark¹⁷, again adding his characteristic details such as personal names. Matthew simply refers to him generically as a synagogue official. Again, note how much more detail is in Mark’s version compared to Matthew’s. It’s also worth noting that in Mark, the daughter “at the point of dying,” while in Matthew she is already dead.¹⁸

Despite all this, when Mark continues later in the passage, he never refers to Jairus by his name again. Instead, he appears to be lapsing into copying Matthew and refers to him generically as synagogue “official.” It’s not overly impressive, but it fits the pattern if you’re looking for it. Again, this analysis assumes the editorial fatigue framework. There are myriad other explanations that can account for this — just as with the editorial fatigue examples the Markan priority proponents advocate.

Leaven of the Pharisees

Finally, there’s an account of Jesus’ disciples forgetting to bring bread on a journey. Again, I found this passage while looking for something else. In Matthew, it is clear that their forgetfulness meant there wasn’t “any bread” at all. But Mark adds in the extra detail that there was no “more than one loaf in the boat with them.” Classic Markan detail. So, if we’re parsing literally here, there is one loaf on the boat in Mark’s account. Nonetheless, Mark later goes on to parrot Matthew in the discussions with Jesus, all saying there wasn’t “any bread,” or “no bread.” This one is admittedly a nitpick, and can be explained in other ways, and is circular, etc. But by the logic of editorial fatigue, again, all the elements are there in reverse.

We Have to Deal With Circularity

Taken from Video: Editorial Fatigue Fallacy in 120 Seconds

I’ve touched on this repeatedly, but circularity remains the 800 lb gorilla in the room. Every one of the editorial fatigue cases put forth by the proponents requires circular reasoning. It is unavoidable; present in 100% of cases. That’s because in order to find “fatigue,” one has to presume that the internally consistent pericope came first. And if we must assume priority to make the argument, we can’t conclude that the priority we already assumed is in fact true. This is shockingly basic, but seems to be completely whiffed on by biblical scholars. This should have been the very first challenge a peer or colleague put forth the moment editorial fatigue was first presented. To be clear, the circularity doesn’t eliminate the possibility that the conclusion is true, but it’s overstepping to say that any circular argument proves the conclusion. It proves nothing. Yet this is exactly what the proponents of editorial fatigue continue to do, with zero scrutiny from peers. Editorial Fatigue is a fallacious argument and proves nothing even where we grant all the examples given as true.

Conclusion

I’ve examined the logical case against editorial fatigue elsewhere. This analysis was focused on diving into the substance of the arguments themselves. As we saw, the basis for the arguments for editorial fatigue as it applies to Markan priority are specious at best. They are always fallacious as circular. And editorial fatigue has just as compelling arguments in the reverse. As with the arguments against Mark’s redaction profile, which I critiqued in this video, it’s time to put the editorial fatigue argument to bed once and for all.

Mark Goodacre, Fatigue in the Synoptics (“The advantage, however, of this kind of approach is that it can only be properly answered by adducing good counter-examples, the cumulative effect of which would be to undermine the argument…Therefore, those who do not believe in Marcan priority would need to find strong illustrations of the phenomenon as a control to those examples that make good sense on Marcan priority.”)
Id.
Matthew 14:1; Luke: 3:1, 3:19, 9:7; Acts 13:1
Josephus, Antiquities: Ant 17.188; Ant 18.102; Ant 18.109; Ant 18.122; Ignatius to the Smyrnaeans 1.2
I am not an expert, or even a novice, in Greek, Hebrew, or any ancient language. I rely on software to help with these analyses. So if things appear incorrect, please let me know.
Mark Goodacre, Fatigue in the Synoptics (“One of the most striking is the story of The Cleansing of the Leper”)
Id.
Luke 5:12–16 (“While He was in one of the cities, behold, there was a man covered with leprosy…”)
noaa.gov (“Waves are most commonly caused by wind…”)
Translations for seismos in Matthew 8:24: “Great Storm”: NASB95, ESV, NKJV; “Furious Storm”: NIV; “Great Windstorm”: (NRSV), “Great Tempest”: KJV, ASV
Blackburn, Simon (2016). The Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy, 3rd ed. (Kindle Version) Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 79. (“Principle of charity…constrains the interpreter to maximize the truth or rationality in the subject’s sayings”)
Remember, the reference to a “change” already starts with the presumption of priority. We’re using the same language here, but noting the obvious logical issue.
Van de Weghe, L. (2023). Name Recall in the Synoptic Gospels. New Testament Studies, 69(1), 95–109. doi:10.1017/S0028688522000170 (noting an observation by Richard Bauckham that “Matthew and Luke never add a name to an anonymous person in Mark, although they sometimes drop names.” Of course, as framed, this presumes Mark was first.)
Because Mark’s and Luke’s accounts are quite similar, and make the similar “error,” it’s not clear which one was later. Mark may have simply seen Luke’s “fatigued” account and copied it, or vice versa. It’s enough to say here that either Mark and/or Luke fatigued here against Matthew under reverse “editorial fatigue” analyses. It’s no different of an issue than the “Cleansing the Leper” example discussed earlier.
Matthew 10:9–10 (NASB95)
Matthew’s narrative is structurally different from the ones in Luke and Mark, even though he recites the same story.
Luke also calls Jairus by name.
In case you’re wondering why I don’t emphasize the “inconsistency” between Mark having the girl “almost” dead and later she is found dead, it’s because in passages I omitted due to length and the mishmash of a different story, the house of the “synagogue official” (Jairus is never named again) announces to Jesus in advance that the girl has died. I think this could be argued as well, but I decided against it.