An astute commenter wonders if sometimes I don't believe what I write. He might be right - I don't know - but it doesn't matter. What I believe is unimportant. Things are true or not whether I believe them or not. What matters are ideas and evidence, not my beliefs. And given that I - like everyone else - has bounded rationality and limited knowledge, the overlap between the two is, ahem, imperfect.
The idea that a person's opinions matter in themselves is an aspect of our egocentric "me" culture - the notion that we are all special people, entitled to respect. But we're not. As Rumsfeld said, people are fungible.
Blair, as in other ways, embraced this culture. In his resignation speech, he said:
This prioritizing of sincerity - how often did Blair claim to "passionately believe" something? - isn't just ugly. When it enters politics - as it did long ago - it's downright pernicious.
First, when we identify people and beliefs, an attack on an idea becomes an attack upon people. This leads to pointlessly hot-headed slanging matches: just look, if you can bear to, at almost any "debate" about religion or Israel.
It also increases the power of cognitive biases. If I invest my personality into a belief, I'm apt to defend that investment . So I'm more prone to use the confirmation bias - to look for evidence that defends my belief and proves that I was right.
Similarly, if I like someone, I'm likely to give his views an easy ride. And this can lead to groupthink; we each think: "he's a good bloke, and he agrees with me, so we must be right", and so get carried away with damnfool ideas.
Secondly, the culture of sincerity leads to a political cycle which alternates between a cult of leadership and "crises" of authority. We look for political leaders with sincere good judgement and every test of that then becomes a crisis. So, for example, the debate about jailing alleged terrorists for 42 days without charge becomes not a question of the trade-off between liberty and security, but rather a challenge to Brown's authority. This is what happens when ideas are identified with people.
But there are alternatives. As Richard Sennett showed in his wonderful The Fall of Public Man, public life has not always been about narcisstically sincere revelations of the "self." Until the late 19th century, it was the norm for men to adopt roles, masks, in public.
When we are discussing something in a meeting, instead of just asking everyone for their tuppenceworth, we can assign individuals de Bono hats. This identifies support and criticism of proposals not with individuals, but with their role.
And it is possible for political discussion to break the equivalence between individuals and beliefs. Take for example, the Cuban Missile crisis*. Khrushchev proposed to Kennedy that he would remove missiles from Cuba if the US withdrew their missiles from Turkey. Kennedy's private response to this, to George Ball, was:
Kennedy did not say it was a reasonable proposal - that would have foreclosed discussion about whether to agree to these demands. Instead, in attributing the belief to most people, he was inviting more dispassionate consideration.
And in disputing this view, McGeorge Bundy said:
Who knows? If Kennedy and his advisors had been more sincere, maybe none of us would be around now.
* I draw on this essay by Tony Judt
The idea that a person's opinions matter in themselves is an aspect of our egocentric "me" culture - the notion that we are all special people, entitled to respect. But we're not. As Rumsfeld said, people are fungible.
Blair, as in other ways, embraced this culture. In his resignation speech, he said:
But it doesn't matter what you thought was right, matey. What matters is what was right.I ask you to accept one thing. Hand on heart, I did what I thought was right.
I may have been wrong. That is your call. But believe one thing if nothing else. I did what I thought was right for our country.
This prioritizing of sincerity - how often did Blair claim to "passionately believe" something? - isn't just ugly. When it enters politics - as it did long ago - it's downright pernicious.
First, when we identify people and beliefs, an attack on an idea becomes an attack upon people. This leads to pointlessly hot-headed slanging matches: just look, if you can bear to, at almost any "debate" about religion or Israel.
It also increases the power of cognitive biases. If I invest my personality into a belief, I'm apt to defend that investment . So I'm more prone to use the confirmation bias - to look for evidence that defends my belief and proves that I was right.
Similarly, if I like someone, I'm likely to give his views an easy ride. And this can lead to groupthink; we each think: "he's a good bloke, and he agrees with me, so we must be right", and so get carried away with damnfool ideas.
Secondly, the culture of sincerity leads to a political cycle which alternates between a cult of leadership and "crises" of authority. We look for political leaders with sincere good judgement and every test of that then becomes a crisis. So, for example, the debate about jailing alleged terrorists for 42 days without charge becomes not a question of the trade-off between liberty and security, but rather a challenge to Brown's authority. This is what happens when ideas are identified with people.
But there are alternatives. As Richard Sennett showed in his wonderful The Fall of Public Man, public life has not always been about narcisstically sincere revelations of the "self." Until the late 19th century, it was the norm for men to adopt roles, masks, in public.
When we are discussing something in a meeting, instead of just asking everyone for their tuppenceworth, we can assign individuals de Bono hats. This identifies support and criticism of proposals not with individuals, but with their role.
And it is possible for political discussion to break the equivalence between individuals and beliefs. Take for example, the Cuban Missile crisis*. Khrushchev proposed to Kennedy that he would remove missiles from Cuba if the US withdrew their missiles from Turkey. Kennedy's private response to this, to George Ball, was:
He's got us in a pretty good spot here. Because most people would regard this as not an unreasonable proposal.
Kennedy did not say it was a reasonable proposal - that would have foreclosed discussion about whether to agree to these demands. Instead, in attributing the belief to most people, he was inviting more dispassionate consideration.
And in disputing this view, McGeorge Bundy said:
Again, in crediting others with the idea, it is being depersonalized, so it can be weighed on its merits.[This would suggest] we were trying to sell our allies for our interests. That would be the view of all in NATO. Now it's irrational and crazy, but it's a terribly powerful fact.
Who knows? If Kennedy and his advisors had been more sincere, maybe none of us would be around now.
* I draw on this essay by Tony Judt
A long a complicated post. Much to agree with and some bones of contention.
First this:
The idea that a person's opinions matter in themselves is an aspect of our egocentric "me" culture - the notion that we are all special people, entitled to respect. But we're not. As Rumsfeld said, people are fungible.
Are you saying we should all accept being regarded as expendable cannon fodder? I agree that it is wrong to treat all opinions as equal no matter how illconsidered they are. But the idea of respecting people, as people, I would have thought has been the source of much social advancement.
Then this:
But it doesn't matter what you thought was right, matey. What matters is what was right.
I can't agree with. That is a useless criteria for humans, we rarely know what is right, and even less commonly did we know what was right at the time. Saying as justification he acted in good faith is perfectly reasonably. Saying that he acted as if he had certainty is less justifiable - but is that what he said?
As for the De Bono lesson about being prepared to look at things from different points of view I completely agree. And the point about the danger of personalising opponions. In fact this tendency of putting out half-baked ideas as though they are your own, and letting your public make fools of themselves, is one of things that keeps me coming back to this blog.
As to whether going back to Victorian hypocracy is a good idea, well I'm a bit more skeptical.
Posted by: reason | June 05, 2008 at 04:54 PM
Interesting post. I think the point about people's investment in an idea is a key one, and it's amazing the extent to which people feel the need to maintain fidelity to an idea.
Also agree about conflating personalities and ideas, it's a cheap way to argue. In my years of keyboard warfare I've seen it (and done it) so many times. It's much easier to argue against an idea if you suggest a cartoon version of the sort of people who support it (selfish nasty Righties/idealistic but clueless lefties).
Posted by: Tom P | June 05, 2008 at 10:08 PM
Much to agree with here although I think you're overstating your case. Plus one or two of the examples you use don't fit. For example:
"So, for example, the debate about jailing alleged terrorists for 42 days without charge becomes not a question of the trade-off between liberty and security, but rather a challenge to Brown's authority. This is what happens when ideas are identified with people."
I don't see much connection between faith and this issue. I don't believe for a minute that Brown thinks detaining people for 42 days is 'the right thing to do'. It's a (badly, in my view) calculated move. Those opposing it are much more likely to be the believers but if people intend to oppose it merely because they don't like Brown, this too is pure calculation and nothing to do with faith either. I don't get why you think much of this has anything to do with a culture of sincerity - although where you *might* find it is if Brown tried to sell it on the basis that he thought it was the 'right thing to do'.
Posted by: Shuggy | June 05, 2008 at 10:23 PM
While truth or rightness of an idea is more important than who believes is (or how much); we need to trust certain people's views so we can adopt their views without having to work it out ourselves.
I'll believe Prof Hawkins rather than take a physics phd. If he's been right the last 9 times I'm more likely to trust the 10th if he is consistent and sincere. Just rationally using of my time.
Posted by: alanm | June 13, 2008 at 10:16 AM
bPiX03 tayhfwjm dcffnotj ajacksqo
Posted by: 1248766244 | July 28, 2009 at 08:30 AM