This essay is incredibly ironic. Thousands of words to sneer at "fatally bad thought," based on nothing but bald assertions that it's flawed, pretence that we dear readers all agree and can see that it's flawed, and appeals to emotion via expressions of Stove's disgust at the intellectual corruption its flaws reflect.

A "nosology of thought" sounds like a fine research program, but a manifesto about it ought to at least give a few examples to show the criteria for helpful diagnostics.

I like the dialog with Muggeridge at the end, though.