Slow Down

Continuing with the discussion of Daniel Kahneman’s Thinking Fast andSlow, I noted that the author’s construct of a brain separated into a fast, associative processor (System 1) informing but, occasionally, overridden by a powerful but lazy slow processor (System 2) helps explain a number of observable phenomena such as our susceptibility to visual and cognitive illusions.

This model can also help us understand pan-human tendencies towards certain types of cognitive biases, notably confirmation bias which makes us readily accept information that already conforms to our beliefs, but treats information that contradicts or confounds those beliefs with suspicion.  After all, if our fast associative System 1 uses stories to categorize and understand information coming at us from all directions, what makes more sense than to create a story that plays up our preferences and plays down or rejects our dislikes? 

Making room in our mind for uncomfortable facts takes effort, often involving looking at the world outside the framework of an easy-to-understand storyline and delving into uncertainties (or probabilities) which bring us into the realm of System 2.  Our slow processor does this work well, but engaging this lazy workhorse requires effort.  And if we can get along just fine believing a comfortable story about, say, our preferred presidential candidate representing all goodness and truth (while his opponent is a dishonest cad), why not simply accept fast System 1’s take on the matter and let slow System 2 enjoy the day off?

Kahneman’s discussion of psychology and behavioral economics can also inform other challenges that come into play during a presidential campaign, such as anchoring and framing. 

Anchoring involves putting out some information (usually numeric) that our mind automatically makes the starting point for further thinking about an issue.  An example the author uses is that if I ask a group of people if Gandhi was 140 years old when he died, all of them will, of course, answer no.  But if I then ask him how old they think he was when he died, they will tend to pick a significantly higher number than a group who was first asked an equally ridiculous anchoring question of whether the Indian leader died at age 9. 

Anchoring is a powerful phenomenon which takes advantage of a System 1 that grabs the first information it receives and uses it to build out a story that is harder to edit or delete than to create.  And thus we stick to first impressions, even if those first impressions are wrong or were purposefully implanted in the conversation to anchor us.  This is why politicians and advertisers (whether communicating employment statistics or quantitative health information regarding food products) want to get their numbers entered into the conversation early, so that subsequent conversations will stay anchored where they prefer.

Fast and Slow also draws attention to our dramatic preference for frames of reference that highlight gains vs. losses.  For example, many people who would buy a five dollar lottery ticket for a 1:10 chance to win $100 would refuse a bet that offered them a 10% chance of winning $100 but a 90% chance of losing $5.  Even though the two bets are nearly identical in economic terms (actually, once you do the math the second is better than the first), in psychological terms the notion of paying $5 for a lottery ticket is treated far more positively than losing $5 as the outcome of a failed bet.

Keep this in mind during the campaign season when candidates explain that they want to help you keep four-fifths of you money (rather than tax you at 20%) or perform what you suspect might represent some mathematical slight of hand.  In fact, whenever you are confronted by statistical data (from political friend or foe), it might make sense to stop what you’re doing, spend five minutes doing multiplication of various two-digit numbers in your head (which tends to engage System 2), and then come back issue afresh.

While I suspect that follow up to the work of Kahnaman and the researchers which followed him will help us further understand other political phenomena (such as our preference for certain cadences and word choice reflected in the rules of rhetoric), I started to get uncomfortable with his final conclusions regarding how his discoveries could be applied in the real world – the subject of some final thoughts next time.

Bias – Part 2

As noted previously, within the context of practical critical thinking the best way to deal with biases is to be upfront about them while simultaneously keeping bias in perspective. With that in mind, I have a set of biases you should be aware of when looking over anything written in this blog.

Starting from the most universal, I (like other human beings) have cognitive biases wired into my brain. The most notable of these is confirmation bias (i.e., the desire to believe facts and arguments that correlate with pre-existing beliefs and opinions and be skeptical or reject those that do not). Because this global set of biases impacts everyone (including you and everyone you know), they should not be considered particular to me and this blog, but instead represent something that we should all be aware of as we listen to other voices (as well as our own).

Moving one level down from humanity in its entirety, each of us also fall into broad subsets of the general category “human being.” For example, in addition to being a human I am also a white, heterosexual, middle-class, American, Jewish male.

Now there is no question that my membership in these (and other) categories provides a lens through which I view the world. And some people feel that these categories come so loaded with biases that all other factors pale to insignificance. But if that were the case, then there would be little to no difference in the political opinions between the Yippie radical Abbie Hoffman (a white, Jewish, American, male) and Commentary Founder Norman Podhortz (another white, Jewish, American, male). So while factors such as race, nationality and gender should not be ignored when we think about our own opinions and evaluate the biases of others, evidence does not seem to warrant presupposing that membership in these broad categories determines agreement on all (or even many) issues.

With those category biases put into perspective, I can think of two specific personal biases worth putting on your radar.

First, in every US Presidential election I have voted in since 1980 I have voted for the Democratic candidate. This doesn’t mean that I would never nor could never vote for a Republican, but given the visceral internal response I felt when I cast my vote for a Republican Senatorial candidate in the last election, it would be dishonest to claim that each and every one of my Presidential votes was solely the result of impartial, rational, analysis vs. some sort of emotion-informed party loyalty that has strong implications for bias.

The second admission has to do with a particular political issue, rather than a particular party. While there are a number of political matters on which I have an opinion, few of these come with enough of an emotional attachment that would raise them to the level of a belief or cause that should trigger bias alarms. But on one issue (the Middle East conflict), I do have a firm position (I am a strong supporter of Israel). Now topics related to the Middle East (or foreign policy in general) might not emerge on this blog for weeks or months. But if they do, you should keep in mind the specific bias I bring to the table since (like my party-based voting history) I will be particularly sensitive to them as I try to look at next year’s election from the perspective of critical reasoning.

As you look through this list of general and specific biases, notice how they have been categorized and prioritized, with specific biases taking precedent over general ones, and general ones that definitely impact critical thinking ability (like cognitive biases) taking precedent over category biases (such as those related to race or gender) that may or may not come with a set of obviously predictable pre-dispositions relevant to this discussion.

And just as individual biases need to be placed into perspective, so to the whole notion of bias sits alongside other things that can impact the quality of our thinking. For example, information we use to create the premises for our arguments could be irrelevant, incomplete or out of date (even if it comes from completely unbiased sources). And even if we start with unblemished source material, faulty logic could lead us to poor conclusions.

Still, bias is enough of a serious issue with regard to discussions of politics that some sort of rule-of-thumb could be helpful in guiding us. And we’ll turn to my favorite tool of this type in the next posting: the Principle of Charity.

Bias - Part 1

One of the few concepts highlighted as much in discussions of both critical thinking and politics is the subject of bias.

Whether one is studying information literacy, media literacy or even critical thinking as a standalone topic, the ability to spot bias is of primary importance with regard to analyzing information sources. And this makes perfect sense, given that problematic premises (due to biased sources or some other shortcoming) can lead to faulty conclusions, regardless of the quality of the logic linking the former with the latter.

The reason bias is such a frequent topic of conversation outside of critical thinking studies (whether in the context of politics or other matters) is because it is an issue all of us grasp intuitively. Unlike other critical-thinking tools (such as logic), bias is something that so permeates and surrounds us that most of us simply “know it when we see it” (especially when we see it in others).

One of the reasons for the ubiquity of bias is that human beings as a species suffer from certain types of biases, notably cognitive biases. We are all hard wired, for example, to see patterns. And while this pattern-seeking bias can be harnessed by reason to create powerful tools such as science, it can just as easily lead to error (based on seeing patterns where none actually exist), or inform superstition (such as spotting a revered religious figure in a water-stained wall or pattern of pizza toppings).

The most significant human bias that impacts how we think about politics is confirmation bias, the tendency to seek out and believe information that conforms to existing pre-conceptions and dismiss or reject information that challenges these closely held beliefs.

As Kevin deLaplante describes in #14 of this podcast (and I highly recommend you listen to his entire series), systems such as science have developed tools and processes to try to overcome confirmation bias (via experiments such as double-blind tests). But politics has no similar formal filters, meaning that most of us still gravitate towards and accept those newspapers, radio and TV shows, blogs and other online sources that tell us what we want to hear, while dismissing comparable media sources that we don’t agree with as horrifically and embarrassingly biased.

This is a pity since both bias itself and inappropriate ways of trying to compensate for bias can lead to error.

Most people, for example, simply embrace their biases (even as they construct elaborate mechanisms to convince themselves that both they and their news sources are “fair and balanced”). But in addition to closing the mind, this combination of bias and self-deception leaves one vulnerable to (among other negative consequences) surprise and disappointment. (Think of someone who dismisses sex scandal allegations against a favored candidate because charges first appear in a news source beloved by “the other side,” only to watch their candidate – and their own hopes - implode when those charges turn out to be true.)

Another common mistake is to assume that since everyone is biased (which we all are, at least with regard to hard-wired human cognitive biases) that no one is in a position to either claim truth or judge others. For example, much of what we call “political correctness” could more accurately be described as an ineffective means of dealing with the problem of bias. For if we believe that our own race, nationality, gender and class comes so loaded with associated biases that we cannot presume to judge those of another race, nationality, gender or class we are actually closing our minds to actually understanding others (as well as leaving ourselves vulnerable to deception or demagoguery).

So how should we deal with the problem of bias in a way that is not crippling? Within the framework of practical critical thinking, this is a matter of accurately perceiving and recognizing sources of bias within ourselves and others, prioritizing them appropriately, and taking them into account (but not being overwhelmed by them) as you process information and form judgments.

To give you a sense of what that might look like, in my next post I shall provide you a rundown of biases I am bringing to the table that you should be aware of as you read through (and hopefully think about and discuss) this and other topics between now and Election Day.