The Metaphor of Moving Goalposts.

The phrase “moving the goalposts” is one of the most enduring metaphors in debate, argument, and public discourse. Its meaning is simple but powerful: just when you think you understand the conditions of the discussion — the rules, the boundaries, the evidence required to “win” — the other person shifts those boundaries. Suddenly, what once counted as proof no longer qualifies. The target you thought you were aiming for has moved, and you’re forced to begin all over again.
This metaphor is particularly relevant to my own experiences of dealing with Den Tarragon, who perfectly illustrates the moving goalpost syndrome. Engaging in discussion with him is like playing a game where the finish line is never fixed. When you think the parameters of the argument are finally set, the moment you present evidence or reasoned analysis that should conclude the matter, the boundaries get pushed further out. What once appeared to be the central issue is brushed aside, and a new point is introduced, as if the debate has been reset.
The strategy is clear: it is the easiest tool in the box of someone who is losing an argument. Rather than admit fault or accept that the evidence doesn’t support their claim, they widen the goalposts and start afresh. The effect is to keep their opponent perpetually chasing after a phantom “resolution” that never comes. This creates frustration, as the discussion becomes less about truth and more about control. The one moving the goalposts retains the upper hand simply by refusing to let the argument settle.
The moving goalposts metaphor also reveals something deeper about human behaviour in conflict. For many, conceding defeat is synonymous with losing face, and so the instinctive response is to protect pride by altering the terms of the discussion. It’s a tactic of evasion, dressed up as engagement. But in reality, it drains the integrity from the exchange. An argument only has meaning when both sides agree to the same rules of logic and evidence. If one side continually shifts those rules, the debate ceases to be about ideas at all and instead becomes a performance of bad faith.
My interactions with Den Tarragon show this pattern vividly. No matter how tightly reasoned or well-sourced a rebuttal is, the argument doesn’t conclude — it mutates. Each time the ball is about to cross the line, the posts move. It’s a carousel of contention: endlessly spinning but going nowhere.
The metaphor of moving goalposts therefore stands as a warning. It reminds us that productive debate requires stability of terms and sincerity of intent. Without those, all that remains is noise — a contest not of truth, but of endurance.