June 2010 Archives
Is there any reason to think that us regular folk have a lot of intellectual discipline and integrity? …enough to avoid the effects of confirmation bias and the rest? Integrity is reliability to the cause, adherence to a code. Intellectual discipline is the focus and self-control in the pursuit of knowledge. Implied in a way, I understand how we could think that there is a morality associated to either of these virtues but is there? Are we beginning to discuss moral and ethical issues with the actions coming from the knowledge we have attained? My cause may be much different than yours. Among my peers my integrity may be unquestionable. What I come to know may be in direct conflict with your understanding, yet my intellectual discipline may be the envy of all in my circle. Can we test for these things as in what Todd has suggested as some IDI score? Who would set the moral meter and frame the question? …and for sure someone/group would be left out of consideration. If I can attach myself to your cause and it means my financial future is more secure, well, the small shift in moral posture may not be seen as a shift at all. Since there is so much to know, and so many counter-arguments (legitimate or otherwise) to what some would want us to know or not believe, it would be just as easy to understand the knowledge that comes easiest to justify my position. Thankfully, there is the freedom of speech, thought, and belief in this country. To what extent and/or for how long we will have them is another debate, but, we can debate differences, probably never come to common agreement, but we do have these freedoms if we chose to use them. To answer the question on whether us regular folk have enough integrity and intellectual discipline… well, yes, just enough to be in good stead with our own circle. And, for the most common of us out there that’s as much as we care to strive for… just to be satisfied and happy in our own circle. We just don’t care to look too long or too deeply at things that make us uncomfortable.
In the recent posting by Prof A, he asks, "Is there any reason to think that us regular folks have a lot of intellectual discipline and integrity? Enough to avoid the effects of confirmation bias and the rest? Does anyone?" I believe we do have intellectual discipline and integrity. But, it is perhaps only a 50 or so on a scale of 100; I will call this the "IDI score". This is better than 25, but not as good as 75 and perhaps 75, as a population average, is a practical limit on a group of humans. I am fine with that, but clearly a 50 can cause problems - I often typify this set of problems by remarking that people know the answer before they have heard the question. Knowing the answer before hearing the question is a hallmark of the lack of intellectual discipline and integrity. We need better IDI scores in a democracy where citizens make a lot of decisions, on a daily basis, which have direct impact on how the society functions and how the culture develops and replicates itself.
If we are to move from 50 to 75 IDI score, how can that be done? Despite the real impact of the media, which is often negative, schools are the common access point to the population's development of reasoning skills. A fundamental social purpose of schooling is to increase our individual IDI scores in order to increase the population average. Unfortunately, as with most things, the study of philosophy or critical thinking/reasoning is self-selecting. The people taking it seriously and those not taking it seriously are inversely related to those who could stand to benefit the most. (sidebar: We certainly also need some folks who are in the low 90s IDI scores, the more the better, which is rarified air to be certain. It would be great if we could develop a test for this capacity that people could take just like an ACT exam. )
On a systems analysis viewpoint, it is important that real critical thinking be part of the rubric for all educational curriculums: math, science, English, philosophy, business, art, theater, sales, and so on. This skill and the commitment to intellectual integrity should be a discipline that imbues all coursework at all levels of schooling; from K-grad school. But, the skill is not the only issue. The Dalai Lama has said intelligence and schooling are very important, but a pure heart and good motivation are more important. A smart person without these virtues is more dangerous than someone less capable. He makes a good point. Thanks! Todd
With regard to knowing how others feel, the word "know" has many different meanings. It is unfortunate we do not have a different word for each meaning. For example, "knowmeu" for direct experience of similar situations that others have had: "I knowmeu how you feel."
And then "knowinfo" - as in know that people usually go through Kubler-Ross' 5 stages of grief when they experience a loss ( http://www.memorialhospital.org/library/general/stress-the-3.html ). Conflating these versions of know often gives rise to discussion or argument, which is really about definition of terms rather than real disagreement. Know is not like "love" which also has myriad different meanings, but we can usually approximate the meaning from the context. (Though sometimes we have to clarify, eg. "I love you, but I don't love you." Don't you hate being the recipient of that one!)
As for knowing how someone feels, I do not think people can legitimately say, I know how you feel. This is because the speaker's experiences, background and perspectives on death, life, etc. are often dramatically different from the other persons. For me to say I know how you feel implies I experience the world (at least somewhat) the same way that you do. While this seems empathetic, it either makes the other person's feelings seem "common" and accessible to just about anyone; or it makes me special because I can share the feeling. Either way, it seems a problematic remark to someone having a bad time of it.
Prof Atchison raises a question on the "knowinfo" form of knowing as it pertains to psychological research, I do not believe a psychologist would have to share an experience in order to study loss or grief. This would perhaps even cloud that research. Of course, this is the "knowinfo" form of knowing that the researcher is cataloging. Thanks! Todd
My name is Todd and I am a classmate, but have not been on the blog yet. I hope to make up for that the rest of the term. I have read the entire blog and found it very interesting. There are some great minds, diverse backgrounds and great questions being asked. I will jump in with a couple comments. For simplicity and clarity will separate them into two following posts.
The party fervently embraced the logic of Keynesian stimulus in 2001, when the underlying rationale was very weak, and fervently opposes it now when the underlying rationale is quite strong. If you were a principled opponent of Keynesian economic theory, you ought to have been more opposed to stimulus in 2001 than now, but very few Republicans were. Ezra Klein has another example today, of Republicans who favored an airline bailout in 2001. Most Republicans also supported a financial bailout in 2008. They just oppose bailouts when Democrats hold power.But Chait doesn't buy the idea that Republicans are intentionally trying to make the economy worse in order to win more votes next November (though lots of other people think this is obviously their strategy). He thinks they are just operating with the sorts of cognitive biases we have been studying:
Establishing motive is always very hard to prove. What's more, the notion of deliberate sabotage presumes a conscious awareness that doesn't square with human psychology as I understand it. People are extraordinarily deft at making their principles -- not just their stated principles, but their actual principles -- comport with their interests. The old Upton Sinclair quote -- "It is difficult to make a man understand something when his salary depends upon him not understanding it" -- has a lot of wisdom to it.
I don't think many Republicans are actually trying to stop legislation that might help the economy recover because they know that a slow economy is their best route to regaining power. I think that when they're in power, consequences like an economic slowdown or a collapsing industry seem very dire, and policies to prevent this are going to sound compelling. When you're out of power, arguments against such policies are going to sound more compelling.
I'm not excusing their behavior. You can resist that kind of mental trap -- it just takes a lot of intellectual discipline and integrity. I don't think you're going to find a great deal of that sort of intellectual discipline and integrity among high-level politicians.
It's this last bit that really interests me. Chait thinks we can resist "mental traps" with "intellectual discipline and integrity," but, sadly, high-level politicians lack these characteristics. But is there any reason to think that us regular folks have a lot of intellectual discipline and integrity? Enough to avoid the effects of confirmation bias and the rest? Does anyone?
in response to Jonathan, i agree that the propoganda technique i encountered most often when watching the news or reading the paper was the appeal to Fear. It was all over the place, but yes especially on more political (perhaps biased?) news shows like CNN, MSNBC, Foxnews, etc. Conservative shows blast Obama as a socialist/communist/fascist plotting to take over the country any day now, so we must act quickly (and vote Republican next election). Liberal shows attack conservatives in much the same way by appealing to their audiences worst fears. If the conservatives gain anymore power in Congress or are allowed to filibuster the next bill we're trying to pass, all hell will break loose and it'll be complete anarchy.
Tom in your blog on – Cognitive Bias and Practical Epistemology – Near the end you speak of what makes people happy isn’t that they necessarily have true beliefs but having convenient falsehoods to support their image of the world. I would like to add to this by a research paper I had come across when doing a search for a paper I was writing for a psychology class I had taken. The research paper was by Shelley E. Taylor and Jonathon D. Brown and is title ‘Illusion and Well-Being: A Social Psychological Perspective on Mental Health’. In trying to summarize the paper it said… That most people have illusions about their own stature and always feel they are on upper half of what they deem to be important factors in their own mind, even if it isn’t true. That what most people accept to believe is bent to fit their need to support already existing opinions. And not so surprising is that this helps us feel better about our lives. As you have pointed out, it would seem that in covering for our own happiness we will misconstrue reality to fit our need. As for what to do about this… well the report did say that the people they found to have the best grasp of reality were those that were clinically depressed. Huh? I guess illusion keeps us happy and reality just gets us depressed. Are we really as messed up as all of that?
My wife and I just saw ‘The Men Who Stare at Goats’ last eve. Most humorous! And right up the paranormal alley we have been studying. I thought the movie played well to the weirdness of the psychic beliefs of people in juxtaposition with the Iraq war. But what is even funnier is that the US military actually had a program like this.
You Are Not So Smart
Every few days McRaney puts up a post discussing a particular bias or psychological effect. He's a pretty good writer and his explanations and examples (which sometimes come with videos) are clear and entertaining. A few of my favorites:
Hindsight Bias -- "I knew it all along!"
Misinformation Effect -- Memories, so convincing, so wrong.
(Check out the video from "This American Life" near the beginning of this post.)
The Perils of Introspection -- "Why do I feel this way? I don't really know, but I can sure make something up!"
The Just-World Fallacy -- "People deserve what they get"
Philosophy major turned big-time blogger, Matt Yglesias comments on these things from time to time. For example:
Red Reality, Blue Reality -- Regardless of the facts,we think the economy is doing better when our team is running the show.
Politics and Investment Bias -- Even our investment decisions are skewed by our political beliefs.
Then there's Less Wrong: "A community blog devoted to refining the art of human rationality"
It's not as reader friendly as McRaney's blog, but there are good posts from time to time, like these:
Your intuitions are not magic
In brief: "People who know a little bit of statistics - enough to use statistical techniques, not enough to understand why or how they work - often end up horribly misusing them. Statistical tests are complicated mathematical techniques, and to work, they tend to make numerous assumptions. The problem is that if those assumptions are not valid, most statistical tests do not cleanly fail and produce obviously false results. Neither do they require you to carry out impossible mathematical operations, like dividing by zero. Instead, they simply produce results that do not tell you what you think they tell you"
The Tragedy of the Social Epistemology Commons
In Brief: "Making yourself happy is not best achieved by having true beliefs, primarily because the contribution of true beliefs to material comfort is a public good that you can free ride on, but the signaling benefits and happiness benefits of convenient falsehoods pay back locally, i.e. you personally benefit from your adoption of convenient falsehoods. The consequence is that many people hold beliefs about important subjects in order to feel a certain way or be accepted by a certain group. Widespread irrationality is ultimately an incentive problem."
But now, we need to do more than just marvel at the apparent irrationality of the human animal. We need to think about how to deal with the fact that people (including, of course, ourselves) are prone to all of these sorts of bias and irrationality. One clear result of all this research is that eye-witness testimony is quite fallible. Perhaps our courts ought to be taking more account of this. Another clear result is that our memories are fallible and, over time, are modified to fit what we want to believe about ourselves and others. Perhaps we should keep this in mind when we get into arguments with our friends and spouses. But suppose we want to do more, suppose we want to improve the quality of our thinking and the likelihood that our beliefs are true -- then what should we do?
very late, so short response.... No way is the one studying the steps of grief have the same knowldege as the one experiencing it first hand. This is what I thought the exception factor was about. (Fay). Empathy is the one factor that can "elaborate" on the particular experience. You might know it in the way as "to define and describe", but not as one knows who lives the experience.
Now I want to tie this back to Fay's discussion a bit: Fay emphasizes the way that our experiences are shaped by our social and cultural groups and also by our particular life-history and experiences. He concludes that, if we define knowing (a person) as "having the same experiences as (that person)", then we don't know anyone, not even ourselves. (Re-read pp.12-15 if you can't remember how he makes his case for this claim.) And even similar experiences may be hard to identify. What if I had lost a child? Would my experience necessarily be that similar to the experience of my friends in Wisconsin? What if my child had died after a long illness? Would that change the character of the loss from what it was in this case (a sudden and unexpected accident)? Those parents have some spiritual beliefs that are very different from mine -- does that alter the character of their thinking and feeling about the death of their son? They live in an intensely supportive small community where virtually everyone they meet as they go about their daily lives knew their son and knows of their loss. How different is that from the experience of a grieving big-city-dweller, surrounded by people who neither know nor care? And, finally, these people are just very different in temperament and personality from me (and from each other, for that matter) -- how does that affect the quality or nature of their experience of loss? As Fay argues on pp. 16-17, the only way to answer these questions would be to compose detailed descriptions of our respective experiences and than compare them. We can't just assume that some particular kind of event or some particular aspect of our history or identity is sufficient to make our experiences similar.
But the more important issue in the context of this class (which is about inquiry, not empathy -- or, better, about empathy only to the extent that it is necessary for good inquiry) is whether having the same or similar experiences is actually an important aspect of understanding or 'knowing' about something. Perhaps the following question can bring the issue into focus: Suppose I was a psychologist and I wanted to study the way people respond to loss of a loved one (perhaps I had a theory about the stages of grief or some such thing). Would I necessarily have to have suffered my own similar losses in order to carry out that study? Would my own personal experience of loss be necessary in order to inform my inquiry? Or would there be, perhaps, a danger that my personal experience of loss might get in the way of my inquiry, unless I was careful not to assume that others' experiences were similar to my own?
(Ross raises a similar question in a comment you might have missed, here .)
We will come back to these issues, by the way, when we consider 'women's ways of knowing', later in the semester. The authors of that book contrast a masculine style of 'separated knowing' with a feminine style of 'connected knowing'. They claim, among other things, that women students are poorly served by institutions of higher education that downgrade personal experience in the way that Schick and Vaughan (and other scientifically minded people) do. I am sympathetic to the impulse behind this idea. But personal experience really does have all the problems identified in Chapter Five of "How to Think...", doesn't it? (More about that later.)
Schick and Vaughn talk about how the memory will reconstruct an instance in the past from a different perspective. The example given in the book is how our memory of an instance of sitting down in the past is often seen in our minds from a perspective of looking at ourselves as if on television, rather than from the perspective we actually encountered while sitting down.
I wonder if this is more of a result of our society being engrained with the phenomenon of television or if this is just how the mind operates constructively. If we were living a thousand years ago, would our memories still work in this way when visualizing ourselves in a past moment?
In response to Ross... I think that he states you can know yourself in the way that even though you are constantly changing with the passing of time, you can have similar experiences that can relate you to the previous you. As his example of the two mothers suffering the loss of a child from very different backgrounds may know each other better than someone that is more "like" them not experiencing that loss. Similar experiences are more important than like backgrounds in knowing someone. Maybe?
It has been a very difficult week, and our discussion on the topic of whether we can know how someone feels or even say that we know how they feel has become a reality for me. My brother in-law passed away most unexpectedly last week in a motorcycle accident. He left behind my sister and two sons ages 19 and 13. I too have lost my father, but this during the time while I was an adult with children at home. When at the funeral while talking with my nephews I had to say to them, honestly, that I did not know what they must be going through and yet I could feel their pain and grieving for I too went through a similar experience of loss of someone deeply close to me. The difference is that I was never 13 years old and to see this loss through those eyes. Especially with my knowledge of what his future could be, if for him his father were still alive... this sense of loss is… well… lost on me.
I agree with you Gwendolyn that we do have the ability to connect with other people and their experiences in perhaps an unexplainable way, but then later on you said that you choose to never say "I know how you feel". But I'm curious about that because when we connect with people in that mysterious way (perhaps over having been through similar experiences in the past), don't we have to at least be implicitly saying "I know how you feel" or "I know I'd be feeling really bad if I just went through something like that"? Don't you have to be implicitly saying this when you try to empathize with someone else's situation, even if you never explicitly say so?
