Risk

Before returning to some of the nuts and bolts of critical thinking as it applies to the upcoming US election, some final thoughts as to why this exercise might be relevant even to those most certain of how they will vote next year.

If you think back at the last few elections, you might have perceived a certain sameness creeping into your experience. Some of this derives from the consistent rules of the game in which candidates are winnowed down in one or two primaries, only to face one another in a national election featuring standardized elements such as party conventions and debates. And aspects of media coverage have also become canonized, from endless horse-race polls published by newspapers or broadcast on radio and television (coupled with self-flagellation by these same media sources for relying on such polls) to computer-animated state-by-state coverage on election night.

But similarity with regard to the last several election cycles goes beyond simple mechanics. TV campaign ads, for example, may have become more numerous (choking off all other commercials in contested states), but the imagery, tone, even narrator voices used in such ads varies remarkably little. Commentators have noted for years that debates have devolved into joint press conferences in which candidates skillfully talk past each other and attempt to avoid mistakes, with moderators trying desperately to catch a candidate in a gotcha moment (or, at least elicit something spontaneous from the debaters – usually unsuccessfully).

This is no accident but instead represents the professionalizing of political campaigns as statisticians, debate coaches, media advisers and strategists work tirelessly to ensure that their candidate does not succumb – even briefly – to an unpredictable moment. This is why presidential campaigns, for all intents and purposes, only take place in one third of the country (since statisticians and strategists know which states are already “in the bag” for each party and allocate their campaign resources accordingly). This is why most campaign events take place in front of pre-selected audiences (since media advisers know the perils associated with unscripted moments). And even when something spontaneous does manager to occur (such as Obama’s “Joe the Plumber” moment), this quickly becomes co-opted into familiar memes and storylines.

This phenomenon is not paranoia or conspiracy theory, but simply the observation that political campaigners (like military campaigners or business planers) want to be able to select a strategy and stick with it, leaving it to opponents/competitors to deal with the unexpected. And we voters find similar solace in stability, which is why we gravitate towards things such as party identity and charismatic leadership to help us navigate (or avoid) complex decisions.

But the stability both the campaigns and the voters desire is illusionary, or at least only holds within highly limited boundaries. This was brought home to me several years ago when reading an extremely interesting piece in a now-defunct blog (read the entry entitled “Yeah, but can he hit” located about a quarter way down the page) in which the writer compares our fetish for political stability with a similar desire to remove all risk from the world of finance.

In economics, sophisticated tools are used to keep economic growth within a beneficial but predictable range, meaning that with regard to stability too much growth is just as bad as too little. But as we learned in the 2008-2009 economic meltdown, once you leave this narrow range that’s been defined as “stable,” there are no guardrails, just “sheer cliff.” In fact, it’s no accident that the sophisticated devices that brought the economy down were supposed to be “risk mitigation” products, tools that allegedly commoditized (and supposedly reduced to near zero) risk itself.

Similarly, our politics is being managed (both by professionals and by voters themselves) to stay within comfortable boundaries, to the point where something truly unpredictable emerging (such as a Ross Perot or large numbers of undecided voters) leaves us bewildered, and often hostile.

Such unpredictability forces us to confront the fact that the world is a complicated place, containing many things we’d rather not think about. And so our choices are to either make ourselves think about them (even if this causes psychic discomfort) or, alternatively, simply deciding “where to stick our finger” by cheering on those virtuous political forces we support while sneering at the savage ignoramuses running against them.

Vote Reason!

The last post alluded to what might happen to a Presidential candidate who decided to demonstrate his or her critical thinking activity in public, and noted the irony of how the voters might react negatively to such a demonstration, given that most of us hope our leaders will think and act deliberately once in office. But if “I reason well!” is tough to pull off as a Presidential campaign tagline, could reason become a campaign slogan in some other context?

This issue was brought home recently when looking at two authors (well, three actually) who appeal to reason in the context of political decision making.

The first is former US Vice President Al Gore whose 2007 book The Assault on Reason was a political broadside published during the last years of the Bush administration.

While much of the book is dedicated to listing what Gore perceives to be the many failings of the man to whom the author lost the 2000 US elections, undergirding these criticisms is an argument that “reason, logic and truth seem to play a sharply diminished role in the way America now makes important decisions.”

According to Gore, a combination of political corruption and dumbed-down public dialog (created by saturation media distorted by partisan and corporate interests) has reduced the country’s ability to think clearly, to base important decision on reason and logic, rather than ideology and superstition.

No doubt skepticism over global warming (the subject of Gore’s best-selling An Inconvenient Truth) was playing a role in the author’s analysis that both the public and its leaders were failing to act logically and reasonably. And without getting into the substance of the global warming debate, the relevant point for readers of this blog is that a skilled politician and celebrated political author felt that the public (or at least a large segment of it) would sympathize with the argument that reason should prevail in politics and public policy.

If your position on one of Gore’s issues (or Gore himself) prevents you from looking at his work from a non-partisan perspective, a second book that makes a similar argument (albeit from a completely opposite political perspective) might provide some distance.

The World Turned Upside Down by British journalist and author Melanie Phillips makes the same argument as Gore (that the world is rapidly losing its ability to reason and think critically about important political subjects). But in her case, the issues we debate irrationally are the very ones Gore sees reason providing settled answers to (such as global warming and how the US got into a war with Iraq).

Now Phillips ties her observations into what she perceives as a growth in superstitions belief, lumping together New Age cults, 9/11 conspiracy theories and unquestioned faith in subjects such as man-made global warming and even human evolution into a single phenomena which she traces to people desperately searching for meaning in a post-religious age.

And while her choice of targets may not fit together as well as the author thinks, again we should note that she is not calling for a return to decision-making based on religious belief. Rather, she is claiming that in our post-religious age, reason does not take the lead but instead morphs into its own cult of irrationality.

Again, separating out the writer’s particular politics (as we did with Gore’s), we are left with a political writer (this one from the opposite end of the political spectrum to the former Vice President’s) who feels that her audience will respond positively to the argument that our polity should be informed by logic and reason, even if she feels that logic and reason lead to a very different place than where Al Gore had ended up.

The third author I alluded to earlier is Lee Harris, author of such books as Civilization and Its Enemies and The Suicide of Reason. While his political point of view (notably as a critique of radical Islam) makes him controversial as well, his arguments regarding politics and reason takes aim at reason itself.

His main thesis is that the culture of reason that many in the West live under (and both Gore and Phillips are playing to) is not the result of mankind taking the next evolutionary step towards progress (leading to an end of history, with all societies eventually being run by rational actors). Rather, he sees the reasoning society as itself a sub-culture, a sub-culture that could never have been created by reason alone.

I will leave the details of his arguments for another time, but suffice to say that whenever we are trying to apply the principles of critical thinking (logic, reason, analytical weighing of evidence) to political debate we are embarking on a highly artificial project, a project that would confuse (and possibly appall) most people throughout history, as well as a fair number of people living today.

Primaries

“Gaffes” and “Brainfarts” seem to have become the watchwords of recent weeks in this primary season as Republican hopefuls like Herman Cain fumbled questions on current foreign policy issues and Rick Perry “locked up” during nationally televised debate.

Within the context of the ongoing primary, critical thinking tools can be trained on any of the individual candidates, subjecting various tax plans (for example) to a review to see if premises lead to conclusions, unpacking the rhetoric of individual candidate’s opening and closing debate speeches (or, perhaps, applying the Principle of Charity to even those candidates who embarrass themselves on national television).

Alternatively, one could look beyond the rhetoric, clashes and slip-ups that have gone on over the last several months and realize that the Primary itself has an ultimate essence: to winnow a large group of candidates down to just one. In which case (and regardless of the details) the institution of the Primary is (so far, anyway) adhering perfectly to its nature.

Given non-stop coverage of the campaign, it’s particularly tempting to focus attention on the sources of our premises: the media which today consists of partisan and non-partisan newspapers, radio stations, television and cable news networks, some of whom make attempts at objectivity while others proudly proclaim their biases (or hide them behind claims of balance and fairness). With the advent of the Internet, pocket video cameras and stalkers hoping to create media events by capturing a candidate in a blunder (such as a “makaka moment,”) the media becoming the message will certainly occupy an important place in this discussion over the coming year.

But for now, I’d like to focus on one player in the Primary equation that may not be getting the media exposure of the candidates: ourselves.

After all, it is we who react to this or that Primary gaffe or misstatement, often through the partisan lens of forgiveness if we lean Republican or ridicule if we lean Democrat. But stop and consider for a moment how any of us might react if one of the candidates (in either party) took a long pause after being asked a question about a particularly complex matter, looked up and said “You know, that’s a very good question about a very difficult and fast-changing subject. And I would be doing everyone a disservice if I spoke about it without having learned enough to speak intelligently. Let me spend some time reading up on the matter and consulting with those who know more than I do, after which I’ll give it some careful thought and present you an answer worthy of that name (with appropriate qualification of what I and any of us still might not know).”

Such a response (which is what we hope to hear from someone who may not have all the answers on any conceivable subject, which is all of us) would immediately end a Presidential candidate’s career, branding him with such death-dealing epitaphs of wishy-washy, egg-heady or the dreaded indecisive.

But the alternative to such a public demonstration of critical thinking is not becoming omniscient and immediately decisive on all matters (including issues with unfolding unknowns). Rather, it is to give the appearance of knowing enough to have a say on any issue of the day, an appearance often gained not by careful thought and study, but mastery of certain rhetorical techniques, frequently achieved through professional training on skills such as how to perform on television, how to interact with (and play to) audiences during debates and interviews, and so on.

And remember that the audience these speakers are playing to is us, a public that would react with hostility to someone admitting that they may not know something (or may not know enough to make an immediate decision), preferring the appearance of knowledge and wisdom that we simultaneously know most likely lacks substance. And to highlight one last irony, we actually want our leaders to be careful and thoughtful after they are elected; to surround themselves with experts and perform considered analysis before making hard decisions. It is only before they are elected that we demand immediate answers and demonstrations of on-the-spot decision-making (often on murky or even trivial matters).

So the next time we feel the urge to react smugly to a gaffe by a politician we oppose, or excuse an onscreen error by someone we support, it might be worth considering what role we play in a system that rewards those who can convince us that they are someone they are not, able to deliver something we may not necessarily even want once the election is over.

Consistency

As the contours of the upcoming US election begins to take shape, we will be visiting the subjects of rhetoric and argumentation again and again in the context of analyzing candidate speeches, debates, ad campaigns and other forms of written, oral and even visual communications.

Even those not involved with the study of critical thinking tend to enjoy these subjects, especially since they involve verbal jousting (like what you might find in a courtroom drama) as well as the fun related to finding examples to illustrate various fallacies, my favorites being Woody Allen’s “All men are mortal. Socrates is a man. Thus, all men are Socrates” (a Syllogistic fallacy) and Grocho Marx’s “I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got into my pajamas I’ll never know” (an example of Amphiboly).

But before we start down that road, we should note an underlying human characteristic that informs our response to rhetoric and many other stimuli we are exposed to in our daily lives: an overwhelming desire for consistency.

Like cognitive biases, the desire for consistency (or, at the very least, a discomfort with inconsistency) seems to be hard wired into the human brain. Many logical arguments (from mathematical proofs to philosophical debates) satisfactorily terminate when it can be demonstrated that they end or lead to an inconsistency (such as A equals not A). Indeed, the Law of Non-Contradition is one of the foundational principles of all logic. And even our sense of humor seems to be built around the surprise associated with inconsistent behavior (such as the actions taken by a third man walking into a bar which does not jibe with the behavior of the first two).

In politics, this drive for consistency underlies the most powerful accusation one can hurl at an opponent or their supporters: that of hypocrisy. For while accusing an opponent of being a liar is considered poor form (and often rebounds on the accuser, making them come off as ill tempered and nasty), accusations of hypocrisy almost always leave the accused on the defensive and are thus powerful tools in the politicians rhetorical arsenal.

The foundations for an accusation of hypocrisy can take many forms, such as the politician who votes against school choice programs while sending his or her own children to expensive private schools or a finger-wagging moralist legislator (or preacher) caught in a extra-marital affair. But inconsistencies can also be subtler or exist in the “eye of the beholder” of just one person or group.

For example, an elected official’s failure to “live up to their campaign rhetoric” (by voting for something they vowed to vote against during the campaign season, for example) often underlies accusations of dread hypocrisy during the next campaign season which resonate with votes who tend to look for consistent behavior as a sign of strong character. But now we get into more complicated territory since campaign promises can be vague and open to interpretation, and legislation is often the result of compromise between competing goods, meaning a perceived inconsistency may be the result of incomplete information or an oversimplified (and sometimes self-serving) interpretation of events (i.e., “spin”).

The drive to see consistency in leaders (especially those whom we support) and inconsistency/hypocricy in others (especially those we do not support) also taps into discomfort with our own inconsistent behavior. This can include anything from ignoring the homeless person asking for a handout (despite our self-identification as being generous and caring) to cutting corners at work (despite our belief in our own dedication and commitment) to thinking inappropriate thoughts about a stranger’s attractive appearance (despite our self-awareness of being a happily married and committed spouse).

In other words, we seem to be looking for a political leader to demonstrate a level of consistency that we instinctively know first-hand is not possible by a member of the human species. This inconsistency in our own desire for consistency is even more complicated since anyone who has risen to the level of being able to run for President has no doubt had to make compromises along the way that the rest of us never have to confront.

Now a partisan voter has a simple solution to this problem: ignoring inconsistencies that can lead to accusations of hypocrisy on the part of candidates they like, but highlighting and dwelling on similar inconsistency/hypocrisy on the part of those they dislike.

But as critical thinkers, we are obliged to recognize (from first-hand experience) that any human being is made up of multiple interests, desires and motivations which can legitimately be in conflict without rising to a level of hypocrisy that would imply a significant character flaw. And we must also recognize that the political process (which is ultimately about compromise between different opinions, many of which represent competing goods) means that absolute consistency is not possible and may not even desirable for a candidate who must lead a nation of 300,000,000+ people who neither individually or collectively represent a single (or consistent) set of beliefs.

Principle of Charity

The last two posts highlighted the two-edged problems associated with bias. On the one hand, bias is within us and all around us (in various forms) and we must always be careful to be aware of it, account for it and not succumb to it when analyzing information and making decisions. At the same time, dwelling on our own or other people’s biases can lead to endless navel gazing, paralysis and (most important for the issue being discussed on this blog) an argumentative dead end about the most important issues we should be discussing and debating.

Complex challenges such as this can often be mitigated through the application of a bit of “folk wisdom,” vs. ruthlessly logical proofs. And philosophy offers us something that can serve this role in the “Principle of Charity.”

This “Principle of Charity” requires participants in debate to extend certain “benefits of the doubt” to one another. One manifestation of this principle would be to consider and engage with the strongest interpretation of an opponent’s arguments. In a detailed discussion of this principle, the philosopher Nigel Warburton uses this example to illustrate the concept:

“… in a debate about animal welfare, a speaker might state that all animals should be given equal rights. One response to this would be that that would be absurd, because it would be nonsensical, for example, to give giraffes the right to vote and own property since they would not understand either concept. A more charitable approach would be to interpret the claim ‘All animals should have equal rights’ as being a shorthand for ‘All animals should have equal rights of protection from harm’ and then to address that.”

Of course, the Principle of Charity does not (and should not) be automatically applied to every argument and every debater. Assuming the best of a proponent of perpetual motion machines or conspiracy theories, for example, could lend legitimacy to arguments which are, on their face, simply bad or mendacious, requiring no further interpretation generous or otherwise. At the same time, much of our political debate could be made much calmer and more illuminating with a healthy dose of this Principle.

For example, if we were to apply the Principle of Charity to next year’s presidential contest, the first thing we would have to do would be to take the candidates at their word that their primary motivation for running for President is their love for America and their desire to contribute to improving it. While it is possible that one or both of next year’s Presidential candidates are Manchurian in nature, secretly planning to turn the country over to its enemies or transform us into a plutocracy, we are likely to get a better understanding of the candidates and the issues if we start with the charitable (and, likely, more accurate) position that the primary motivations for these candidates are positive.

This principle is similar to other concepts, such as Christ’s Golden Rule or Aristotle’s Golden Mean in preventing our own biases from overwhelming our judgment through a healthy application of balance and open mindedness.

To take one small example, we recently had a brief political dustup in my home state between the two likely candidates for Senator next year: one male, one female. In this instance, one of the candidates had posed for fashion photos in their youth which led the other candidate to joke that they “didn’t need to take [their] cloths off to get through college,” to which the other candidate replied “Thank God.”

Now this could have been interpreted as light political banter between rivals (hardly Churchillian in its wit, but still humorous). But instead it became the subject of accusation and counter-accusation of sexism vs. snobbery. And if you knew which candidate belonged to which gender and party, you can pretty much guess on which side most partisans landed in this debate.

But what if you didn’t know who was who? If you find yourself withholding your outrage until you find out which party each quipper belonged to, more than likely this is not a genuine issue but rather a matter of political theatrics which provides little insight into anything other than our own biases. How much simpler to just apply the Principle of Charity and assume this exchange to be nothing more than some light hearted back-and-forthing between rivals that pretty much means nothing, then moving onto matters more worthy of discussion and debate.

In addition to the benefits this principle brings to prioritization (a key requirement for critical thinking), it also has an emotional upside. For unlike the partisan thinker who spends an entire election cycle in a perpetual rage against the behavior of their political foes, those that subscribe to the Principle of Charity can ride out an election cycle feeling pretty good about themselves and their country, even as they grapple with the difficult matter of how to make it better.