One of the problems I have in my day job is that I’m sometimes accused of being useless. Some people think I’m supposed to give investment advice. I prefer to tell the truth*. And the truth is, of course, that most investment advice is utter rubbish; this pdf represents the largest part of the exception.
This isn’t mere navel-gazing. It raises an important issue – the trade-off between truth and utility.
This is, of course, an everyday problem. Can you even imagine what sort of life a perfectly truthful man would lead? Could he ever keep a job or a relationship? A little falsehood might be necessary for us to continue living. Donald Davidson (“Deception and Division” in Jon Elster (ed) The Multiple Self) has written of the benefits of abandoning truth and rational enquiry occasionally:
Both self-deception and wishful thinking are often benign. It is neither surprising nor on the whole bad that people think better of their friends and families than a clear-eyed survey of the evidence would justify. Learning is probably more often encouraged than not by parents and teachers who over-rate the intelligence of their wards. Spouses often keep things on an even keel by ignoring or overlooking the lipstick on the collar.
The problem is, though, that the trade-off between truth and utility isn’t confined to our private lives. It spills into public life.
John Rawls opened his A Theory of Justice with the claim that “truth is the first virtue of systems of thought.” But in many systems, it seems secondary to utility.
In investing, people don’t want the truth - that it’s hard to beat the markets and that one should trade stocks very rarely. Brokers want people to trade. And many investors want to feel they are doing something, or to believe that there are experts who know what the future holds.
In football, Jose Mourinho and Arsene Wenger rarely tell the truth. They are more concerned to build team morale or trick opponents.
In politics, truth would require us to acknowledge that there are trade-offs between most desireable ideals; that the median voter is not a legitimate recipient of redistribution; and that people like Iqbal Sacranie are just pompous idiots. Utility requires otherwise.
Indeed, Charles Taylor has argued that the very progress of science and technology has come at a price. To learn about the universe and the world, he’s said, requires us to abandon the ancient notion that the heavens and earth were a meaningful order with man at their centre. Our understanding of the world has come at the price of an alienation from it. From “Rationality” (In Hollis and Lukes (eds), Rationality and Relativism):
The dissociation of understanding of nature and attunement to the world has been very good for the former. Arguably, it has been disastrous for the latter.
Now, here’s my question. There are a great many constituencies pressing for prioritizing utility over truth; politicians, investment advisors, pseudo-scientists, religious figures, “community leaders” and so on. Who, then, stands for truth?
Not (all) academics, who are too busy grubbing around for money. The University of Newcastle’s Faculty of Medical Sciences reveals a lot about the state of academia. Nor journalists, who are more concerned to sell dead trees and strengthen the prejudices of their readers.
So, could it be that this is one of the merits and purposes of the blogosphere? It’s an arena in which the pursuit of truth – or to be less pretentious honesty – has a higher priority over utility?
* My preference for truth (or honesty) over utility is partly a reflection of my working class background. A good indicator of the difference between the working and the middle-classes is: what happens if you are dishonest? If you’re working class you get the sack; if you’re middle class, you get a pay rise. (Another indicator is the wearing of scarves. No working class man would ever drape his scarf over his shoulder. One of my most difficult tasks in life, when I see someone doing so, is to resist the temptation to pull it hard.)