Dogma
No one believes that they are dogmatic. We’re all far too reasonable for that carry on. But we can all point to a number of other people who we would term as dogmatic and, with a little imagination, we should be able to understand that they probably don’t think they are dogmatic. This leaves us with a dilemma; how do we know that we are not being dogmatic ourselves? If we can see others acting dogmatically who are unaware of it then, chances are, we could be too.
By ‘dogmatic’ I am describing an absolutist kind of belief that, if I could summarise in my own words, boils down to the fact that you would really rather hold to what you believe than accept an alternative even if the alternative is true. Dogma is the belief you refuse to interrogate.
Dogmatism can get in the way of new truths. The reason for this is that if you are unwilling to honestly put a belief to the test then you will never find out if that belief happens to be false. A valid argument can be made that perhaps there are some beliefs that we’d be better off clinging to rather than risking finding out a truth that would cause you great unhappiness. Would you like to find out that your partner cheated on you all those years ago? What if we discover that we are really just a brain in a jar somewhere living a simulation? What if God really is imaginary? What if God really is real? Whether we dare to search for the truth of a particular matter is a personal decision. But if we refuse to honestly put our beliefs to the test then we ought to show a little more humility when telling others what we ‘know‘ to be true.
So, assuming we do want truth, how do we avoid dogmatism? The best way I can think of is to actually value truth over any existing belief. This can be excruciating, especially when a belief is foundational to any meaning you get out of life. I found it very difficult many years ago to say to myself in all honesty that I would hold truth higher than my belief in the existence of God. If you’ve never believed in God you’ll probably struggle to understand the significance of this but, to a believer, God is truth and so it can seem a kind of fundamental blasphemy to say that you would even challenge the idea. If you do believe in God, fear not, many respectable people have done what I did and kept their belief afterwards and I greatly respect them for it.
Other than valuing truth over existing beliefs I’ve come across another technique that can help to break the emotional attachment we often develop with our dearly-held beliefs. That is to regularly switch perspectives or, “state the opposite”. An example of this is to first say what you believe i.e. “Labour has the best health policies” and then say the opposite i.e. “National has the best health policies” or, “Act has the best health policies” and try to mean it. You can do this with just about any belief in which you are tempted to take sides and it really can help to make you more objective because it can lessen the effects of the ‘in-group/out-group’ factor.
Does anyone have any other good tips or tricks for finding truth that can be used by anyone regardless of their starting assumptions?
Tags: belief, dogma, self-deception
Another very thoughtful post, sir. Well done. Both theists and atheists should think very hard about what you’ve said.
((As a quick aside – Christians get blamed for extreme dogmatism all the time (and at least at some times it is warranted – but more on this later), but atheists are equally as guilty, I’d say (i.e. a recent comment on Ken’s blog saying “God is just another word for bullshit.” – and pretty much the tone of everything ever typed by a certain canterbury resident). I’m sure there are equal examples from theists, though.))
The ‘strong’ atheist (basically) never admits the possibility of God’s existence or that believers could be even the slightest bit sane. The ‘weak’ atheist takes a less ‘certain’ position and says “there’s no evidence for God’s existence”.
The ‘strong’ theist also never admits the possibility of God’s non-existence or that they could ever be wrong. The ‘weak’ theist is far less dogmatic and admits the possibility that they are wrong.
Also, it pays to recognise that the ‘strong’-ness and ‘weak’-ness of both theism and atheism probably can be seen in ‘gradient’-like fashion from ultra-convinced to quite-uncertain.
For me, these issues of genuine truth-seeking and levels of arrogance in terms of truth-claims, there is no more relevant topic than epistemology. What is knowledge, what kinds of knowledge are being talked about, and how is knowledge gained, etc.?
It’s key to recognise a difference in what is being claimed – either ‘strong’-ly or ‘weak’-ly. I don’t think God’s existence or non-existence can be ‘proved’, and I’d want to say that there’s something inconsistent with placing a ‘burden of proof’ on anyone who admits this – whether humble theist or humble atheist (cough… agnostic).
Words like ‘know’ or ‘believe’ (not to mention ‘evidence’!) get very fuzzy at this level.
But yeah (I’m rambling a bit now), as far as tips/tricks for finding truth, I think a discussion or understanding of epistemology is immediately relevant – which I took a stab at here.
With regard to the words ‘atheist’ and ‘agnostic’ I think there is a difference in the context of the usage. When asked whether I believe I can know of the existence of God (or God/s, or anything supposedly supernatural and, hence, physically undetectable) I have to claim agnosticism. Partly because of the nature of knowledge (I believe that the closest we can get to any truth will always be in some way flawed) and the nature of the ‘supernatural’ which, by definition is not detectable.
But when asked what my conclusion is on the existence of God/s, it is that I don’t believe. Which makes me an atheist.
Because I don’t claim to know that would make me a weak atheist. I don’t think it’s actually possible to be a strong theist or strong atheist if by ‘strong’ we mean ‘know’. The fact that it is logically impossible for both strong atheists and strong theists to be right should ring a warning bell about the nature of their claims of ‘knowledge’.
But that’s all just fluff. What I’m really interested in here is tips and tricks for finding truth that everyone can take on board, regardless of their beliefs. Not a discussion on the mechanisms of epistemology (as interesting and foundational though it may be).
I appreciate your position there. My view would be that it’s not so much that you ‘have to’ (i.e. are automatically forced to, etc.) claim agnosticism. Because, though the supernatural is indeed physically undetectable (excepting the controversial example of miracles physically affecting things), I don’t think that makes the supernatural completely undetectable. It’s at least possible (able to be conceived) that the supernatural might be able to be detected in non-physical ways (and let us not say that our physical knowledge of the universe somehow enables us to know –in advance– that there is no non-physical).
Very well said.
You’ve made a key distinction between a claim of ultimate, unquestionable knowledge on one hand (strong atheism or strong theism), and the fact that we can and do ‘take a position’ (however tentative or temporary – i.e. even ‘agnostic’ complete uncertainty is a ‘position’) in these matters.
Which leads me to a question.
Would some agnostics have some level or some kind of belief in God (at least at times)?
Or to put it the other way – would it be wrong to say that all agnostics (by not taking even a tentative ‘yes’ position) effectively or by-default end up in the ‘no’ camp?
I’m not sure I fully understand where you are coming from here but if you are asking whether an agnostic can believe in God then, absolutely. If we are using the distinctions I outlined above where agnosticism is used to describe your ‘statement of knowledge’ and theism or atheism your ‘statement of belief’.
Regarding the word ‘supernatural’. I am becoming increasingly convinced that supernatural/natural is a false dichotomy. If I say I want to find out about the ‘universe’, ‘cosmos’ or ‘all that there is’ then this must include God. I suspect that the word ‘supernatural’ is more often used in the sense of ‘that which can’t be known’ almost as an out-clause in any discussion.
If I can never comprehend quantum weirdness but can, in an extremely limited way, observe it somehow, then it is not ‘supernatural’. It’s a part of all-that-there-is. If there is a being we can never comprehend who we call ‘God’ but can, in an extremely limited way, observe somehow then it/he is also not ‘supernatural’. It/he is a part of all-that-there-is.
It seems though, that this ‘supernatural’ God fits exactly into the slot left where our lack of knowledge is. He lives in miracles in Africa where our ability to scrutinise for charlatanism is low. He lives in the origin of life where science is feeling around in the dark. He lives before the big bang and ‘before time’ (whatever that means). He used to also live in thunder, plague, conception, mental illness, and in anecdotal tales of wonder. But those places have been ‘discovered’ and the concept of this ‘supernatural’ God is shown to be unnecessary.
The reason people use methodological naturalism is that if, in the case of thunder, they’d used methodological supernaturalism they never would have discovered the truth because supernaturalism demands that you don’t look too close or subject it to critical examination.
Can you provide me with a good reason to split all-that-there-is into natural and supernatural?
I’ll resist the urge to enter the supernatural/natural debate and just respond to the OP
My approach to understanding things is to work from first principles. I find that once you really boil things down to what you actually know and how you know it you soon realise you don’t know anything, become a raging solipsist, lose 3 years of your life and come out the other side with a much clearer view of things
Ha! Perfect, thanks Ian. (My issue with solipsism is the word “I” – is there such a thing?)
Damian,
My whole mantra is empathy. It has become more and more clear to me that people do what they think and do for good reasons. Not good as in logical ar sensible, but that there is always a reason for their actions or thoughts.
Given this I am quite happy admitting that if I were born as, say, Dale and had lived his life then I would have Dale’s thoughts and beliefs. Knowing this gives me a much more compassionate and irrdogmatic view, I think.
p.s. scratch ‘mantra’ and replace with ‘dogma’
-
Cheers Simon. Empathy’s got to be a great way to reduce the ‘in-group/out-group’ factor. In a way I guess empathy is quite similar to the practice of switching perspectives as mentioned above but, instead of just ‘trying on’ beliefs, ‘trying on’ everything that goes in to making up those beliefs. Nice.
Part 1 (‘supernatural’ issues)
and
This is something I’ve emphasised differently at different times. In one sense, yes, I think the whole ‘natural’/'supernatural’ distinction is a post-enlightenment one, and an unnecessary one. And (at least one of) the word(s) for ‘miracle’ in the Bible is ‘dunamis’ (from which we get ‘dynamite’/'dynamic’) and simply refers to ‘power’/'force’.
I think part of the reason this distinction came about was when Enlightenment ways of thinking not only conceptually distinguished natural activity from divine activity, but assumed them to be at complete and total odds with one another, such that a divine activity would always (each and every time) be an ‘interruption’ of natural activity. In other words, the phrase (and concept of) ‘divine intervention’ is just as old as the natural/supernatural distinction.
So then, for us it’s a matter of whether or not we can (first) conceptualise and (second) accept that divine activity can be (to whatever extent) in harmonious relationship with natural activity.
Which leads to Part 2 (God hiding in Africa, etc.)
I think these sentiments are based on that same massive-distinction between divine activity and natural activity. Indeed, if divine activity always necessitates a prostitution of natural activity, then yes, this ‘supernatural‘ God is hiding where our (natural) knowledge fades – hiding in the (naturally) unexplained; making believers more nervous with every progression of (natural) explanations for things. (more below)
This is where a (quick!) distinction between pantheism, polytheism and creational theism will be helpful. With pantheism, natural powers are ‘divine’ powers, because all (pan) is god (theos). With polytheism, you get a ‘thunder god’, a ‘plague god’, a god to help you conceive, etc., etc. The creation poem of Genesis 1, however, is a good example of creational monotheism. The ‘sun’ and ‘moon’ are not referred to with terms that acknowledge the ‘sun god’ or ‘moon god’ of the cultures around them – but are simply a ‘greater light’ and ‘lesser light’ to govern the day/night; so with creational monotheism, nature = creation of the One Creator.
But again, the relevant point here is that Creational Monotheism sees natural activity and divine activity as not being in total conflict with one another. The creator is seen as the one who brings order out of chaos (patiently, and in a way that doesn’t violate the freedom of the creation)… I’m rambling…
We’ve discussed this before. I don’t think that divine explanations of things need to impede natural ones at all. In other words, I don’t think ‘supernaturalism demands that you don’t look too close or subject it to critical [natural] examination. As you know, (I understand) it was belief in a natural law-giver that gave rise to systematic/critical analysis of phenomena which was assumed would consistently behave according to these familiar patterns. And no need to remind me of Gallileo and Creationists – I’m well aware of those. I’m just saying a belief in divine activity need not lessen (indeed it can ignite it!) one’s passion for robust, critical and enthusiastic study of natural activity.
I suppose more and more I prefer to talk not about a distinction between ‘natural’ things and ‘supernatural’ things, but rather between ‘divine activity’ and ‘natural activity’. I’m happy with ‘supernatural’ referring to God, who is not simply ‘a part of’ nature, but the creator of it, and therefore distinct from it.
I’m also happy with a ‘supernatural’ and ‘natural’ distinction if we’re talking about ‘nature’ in terms of the regular pattern of behaviour of ‘things’, and ‘supernature’ in terms of the force/power of divine activity upon ‘nature’, resulting in an ‘irregularity’ in the pattern of behavior of ‘things’. The real question is: how do we view these ‘irregularities’? Are they sharp, intrusive, unwelcome, ‘interruptions’ or ‘interventions’ upon nature? Or are they respectful, and ‘welcome’ surges in what is the on-going, constant, purposeful divine activity of the One Creator, who is patiently bringing Order out of Chaos, etc.?
Time to prevent my son from encountering the chaos of not getting fed on time!!!
wow – that was a book… sorry!
Damian,
I really like the idea of “stating the opposite” as a tool to examine one’s own beliefs. As I just posted on the previous thread (sorry – should have read this one before posting!) – I like to compare beliefs, that I think might be the result of my emotional attachments, with other more mundane beliefs I hold that probably aren’t (like the belief that someone is telling me the truth, or who shot JFK). Then I try to determine if I am using similar criteria for accepting the emotional belief as I am for accepting the more mundane beliefs. I also like to suspend my own belief/disbelief long enough to understand (and even belief if possible) beliefs that others might hold.
Dale,
The natural/supernatural distinction seems essential to the claim that God (the supernatural) always existed (did not require a first cause to come into existence) but the natural must have been created (it required a first cause to come into existence).
On the other hand, Satan was created (has a first cause) but is also supernatural. Though he is supernatural, I would guess that he would not be considered divine. Then the supernatural and the divine are not synonymous. A common problem with discussions about the supernatural or the divine is that people don’t seem to know what they mean by the terms, yet they claim that the supernatural and the divine exist. Of course the same could be said about “art”
Dale,
Thanks for your comment; I feel that we might be close to a common understanding. That said, I’m going to create a new post outlining my objections to the distinction between supernatural and natural in the next day or so and I’d love to continue that conversation with you there if you are keen to bounce some ideas around.
In the meantime I’d like to try to get this back on topic
A3,
You’ve touched on something that’s been lingering at the edge of my thoughts for a while now. Bear with me.
When I was about six I remember my auntie saying to my cousins who were arguing over a cake or something that one of them should cut and the other should choose. I remember being profoundly struck by the fairness of this. The cake-cutter is obliged to make the cut in a way that works for both of them.
When I was in my early teens and playing Monopoly (a game I now loathe) I discovered that there was a similar fairness strategy that could be used in property negotiations where one person could propose a swap, say, “these two streets for that service and $500″ and the measure of how fair the deal was would be for the proposer to be happy to take either one of the options.
I think that there is a similar fairness strategy that can be used to test your own dearly-held beliefs. That is to define the ground rules by which you would weigh the truth of a similar category of belief which you don’t adhere to and to use those same ground rules on your own. For example, if you are sceptical of the claim that some Hindu guru is able to heal the sick and would require a certain level of transparency and evidence before you accepted it you should require the same standards of evidence when you hear that a person in your church was healed at a convention.
If you give preferential treatment to your own dearly-held beliefs it’s the equivalent of both cutting the cake and then choosing which piece to eat.
(Hmmmm, I’ve heard the phrase, “you can’t have your cake and eat it too” and have never quite understood it but I wonder if it wasn’t originally, “you can’t halve your cake and eat it too”? Just a thought.)
[...] over at ‘And Slaters Go Plop’ has recently written on Dogma, arguing against its intellectual legitimacy, and asking how we can avoid it. He says, By [...]
Two people, facing each other across a table. One says to the other, “I just saw with my own two eyes a black cat go past the window”. The other says, “you’re wrong, I saw it too but it was definitely white”.
Here are four possible ‘truths’ for this scenario:
1. There was only one cat, it was black and the second person is wrong.
2. There was only one cat, it was white and the first person is wrong.
3. There were two different cats, one black and one white and both people are right but overlooking the unforeseen possibility of two cats.
4. The cat is black and white and the two person are both partially right and partially wrong due to a lack of understanding the nature of the cat.
Now, the scenario may be testable on the off chance that, if the two people go outside the cat/s may still be there. But they could also have departed without a trace.
However, if both people continue to sit at the table, refusing to accept that they might be wrong or that the other person might, in some unforeseen way, also be right, then there is very little chance of the one who may be wrong discovering the truth.
You can’t make the other person do anything but you can at least improve your own chances of correcting ill-founded beliefs if you are prepared to put those beliefs to the test.
Bnonn, I’ve written this to let you know that I’m prepared to go to the door and to be proven wrong if need be. You’ve just elaborately written to state that you don’t see any reason to get up from the table. Fair enough, I can’t make you. When I look outside the cats may have already gone and we may never know the truth of the matter but I simply can’t think of a better way. But you need to understand that you won’t convince me from your position at the table because I can only value my own experiences over yours.
Interesting metaphor, Damian,
Initially, I’d want to say that some truths are the kind that necessarily require one to ‘get up from the table and go to the door and look for the cats’; and that some truths are the kind such that ‘geting up and looking for the cat’ would be a complete waste of time, as the cats are long gone, etc. (I hope I’m using the metaphor correctly)
That’s all for the moment – i’ve got to focus on stuff
Is that you claiming exemption on the ‘God’ issue and joining Bnonn at the table? Like I say, fair enough, I can’t force you to examine your beliefs. I can only examine my own.
I still maintain that trying to eliminate preferential treatment for your own, dearly-held beliefs will stand you in good stead for finding truth.
I think you read me wrong. I’m not saying that in search of truth type ‘a’ one person should have to stay at the table while the other goes looking for the cat, I’m saying some truths (type ‘a’) are ‘table’ truths, and other truths (type ‘b’) are ‘cat’ truths… (out of context this would sound just a bit silly – might even sound silly IN context!)
Well Damian, I guess Bnonn proved you wrong in your assertion: “No one believes that they are dogmatic. We’re all far too reasonable for that carry on.”
I am not surprised. reminds me of a dogmatic Maoist acquaintance of mine who told me years ago that a little bit of dogmatism was a good thing. I tended to agree at the time (with emphasis on little). It’s amazing how often I find myself comparing religious proponents to some dogmatic communist trends (mainly Maoist and Stalinist! Probably something to do with my history which has been more political than religious).
A couple of observations:
1: Dogmatism is actively promoted in some places. For example the military (indoctrination and brainwashing). After all we can’t have people expressing doubts when we go into battle. And of course many political/religious groups see themselves in the same situation.
2: Dogmatism is almost impossible to avoid if one chooses to belong to an ideological community (including virtual communities). It’s part of the price of acceptance – and acceptance usually becomes more important than personal integrity. It takes an extremely mature and autonomous person to belong and yet maintain true intellectual independence. And in almost all cases they are seen as heretics anyway and usually encouraged or forced to leave.
3: I feel that even naming one’s own philosophy opens up an almost guaranteed path to dogmatism. Once one’s ideas become an -ism or a -anity there is then an almost enforced acceptance of ideas and propositions not seriously examined. There is a natural urge to follow the commands of the authority.
So perhaps a way of avoiding dogmatism is to keep away from ideological groups/communities and never give a label to ones own beliefs. (Yes, I know that has some downsides).
I could say more. I feel during my life I have observed a lot of dogmatism (and still do). I have also (unfortunately retrospectively) recognised that my beliefs and positions have often really been dogmatic – no matter how much I believed them to be the “truth” at the time. Personally I chose the path of heresy – and feel proud about that. It lead to my exclusion from those communities (but not all the people) but it certainly gave me a strong feeling of integrity. And I believe it enabled me to take my beliefs to a new, more mature, level. (And I feel that giving those beliefs a name would only degrade them by dogmafying them anyway).
I know! I freely confess; I was wrong on that count. Who’d have thunk it eh?
That’s an interesting take and one I’d never considered before. But, yes, there’s a lot of merit in avoiding actively belonging to an in-group because they’re (for want of a better word) ‘sticky’.
In fact, on reflection, I was given a complimentary two-year membership to NZARH, attended a couple of meetings and haven’t been back since because I didn’t quite feel right about their objectivity. Know what I mean? I felt that if, say, Ray Comfort were to say “we should feed the starving children in Africa” they’d have rejected it out-of-hand because Comfort is definitely in the ‘wrong team’. You’re right, the groups we strongly identify with can inhibit freedom of thought.
Damian, you’ll be interested to know that I went along to an NZARH meeting. Speaker talked about conspiracy theories and was excellent. One of the attendees and I were both in line for a cup and bikkie after, and we began talking (he not knowing my beliefs or job, of course!), and at one point he said (I remember it well, so this is pretty much word for word), “Yeah, when I meet a religious person, I just don’t trust a thing they say.” He had a priceless look on his face when he found out who I was
QED. I’m sure there are some wonderful people there but, yes, that’s the general impression I got too.
Nah, if they don’t go to my church, they can’t be wonderful…
Ba-doom-tish
Dale, would you consider that the NZARH people are ‘correct’ in the sense that they are a valid, necessary, inevitable outcome of religious zealotry?
(Let me be clear here: I find myself in agreement with pretty much all that NZARH stands for. My criticism is of the ‘I’m right, let’s fight’ mentality that can get in the way of ever discovering that you are wrong if, in fact, you are wrong)
I actually joined NZARH last year (or rejoined after about 30 years). I did this because I became aware that I was missing out on some activity I wish I had known about (discussions of the statement on religious diversity – this interests me from a human rights perspective). But I have no wish to become involved in an activist way (very largely for the reasosn I have presented).
I try not to belong to organisations or become active in them. In fact I seem to have a physiological reaction against such activity now (contrasting strongly with my past). That’s me personally and I acknowledge that it is an over-reaction and not for everyone. But I am happy with it at this stage of my life.
By the way, the negative comments and attitudes people mention can be found in every community – ideological, political, bridge club, or even just kindergarten or play centre groups. It arises very naturally our of our human instincts – the old them vs us instinct.
As can positive comments (in all groups).
…and it’s interesting that both the ‘negative’ and ‘positive’ attitudes would be ‘explained’ by genetics/instinct, etc. I’m quite sure, our biology has far more than nothing to do with these actions, but I see no reason to negate the otherwise obvious notion that we actually make choices. In other words, it’s certainly not less than instinct, but also quite possibly more
Nothing much new to add here, but I felt compelled to express my agreement with Damian, Dale, and Ken on the points about the color of the cat, and the importance of independent thinking over “group think”. Labels like “Christian” or “atheist” or whatever may be useful at times as a shorthand for expressing one’s outlook in a broad way, but the usefulness stops there.
Dale – why do you say this – “but I see no reason to negate the otherwise obvious notion that we actually make choices.” Who the hell is suggesting that we haven’t got, or shouldn’t exercise, choice???? Why react that way??
Why do people get upset when we develop an understanding of our evolutionary origins of instinct and assume that this suggests that we don’t have intelligence and choice???
Perhaps someone should be investigating the evolutionary origins of this “fear of knowledge” instinct?
Ken,
I was just responding to your linking of negative comments and attitudes to human (us v. them) instincts. Clearly, we can also choose (against our ‘natural’ tendencies for ‘mean’-ness or ‘nice’-ness) to be either nice or mean to others outside our group.
It seems fairly clear to me that our species has tendencies toward both inclusiveness and exclusiveness. Perhaps this is because both these attributes have been of enormous benefit to us in the past and are not necessarily contradictory. We’ve benefited by closely bonding with others outside our family group to form a society and benefited by bonding against others we see as outside our ‘in-group’. Neither of these attributes are inherently right or wrong; it just depends on the context of what you are wanting to achieve.
In the context of this topic we were discussing how this natural tendency to form groups can get in the way of getting to the truth. I took Ken’s remarks to be along this line as opposed to some moral judgement on our ‘mean’-ness or ‘nice’-ness.
Sometimes, Dale, I feel you can’t let a fairly fact-based observation go by without an attempt to overlay some kind of “but also quite possibly more” dimension. I don’t know whether you deliberately do it to bait Ken or whether you feel that Ken is baiting you but, from where I was sitting, it seems that whenever Ken says something fairly unassuming (“It arises very naturally out of our human instincts”) you read it as, “It arises very naturally out of our human instincts; therefore, God doesn’t exist”.
See what I’m saying here bro?
I guess I’m not sure what a) the evolutionary orgins of some instinct, has to do with b) how we can get better at truth. Evolutionary origins can no doubt shape any feeling or tendency. Surely whatever will help us get at truth better won’t need to worry about how the feeling was evolutionarily shaped, but what we need to do to be better truth-seekers?
((…and let no one suggest that I’m saying evolutionary orgins affecting instincts/feelings don’t matter at all. I’m just saying that it doesn’t seem to be of real crucial importance to the task of discovering how to be better truth seekers))
I disagree. Understanding the origins of a behaviour can help us to see beyond what may instinctively ‘feel right’. If I understand that alcohol can give me a tendency to babble annoyingly I can put more effort into restraining my babbling when drinking. If I understand that when I become a member of a tight-knit group I may instinctively (but incorrectly) begin to ‘feel’ that the group I’m in is better than the others it can help me to compensate and be more critical of the group I’m in and more accepting of others.
There is an interesting experiment that can be repeated in any gathering of people (try it with your youth group!) where you divide a room into two groups, give them some tasks to do and then get them to self-report on how well they think their group did compared to the other. What you will find is that the members of each group, without knowing how well the other group actually did, will tend to rate their abilities over those of the other group. This experiment alone can go a long way toward warning us of our own tendencies to delude ourselves in groups.
The more we understand of the various mechanisms that get in the way of finding truth the more we’ll have a chance of getting better. And our evolutionary heritage plays a big part.
Dale – I can’t understand this: “Surely whatever will help us get at truth better won’t need to worry about how the feeling was evolutionarily shaped, but what we need to do to be better truth-seekers?”
Humanity surely, in the end, wants to get at the truth. It is, after all, in all our long term interests – despite the fact that it doesn’t come naturally and most of seem to prefer not to deal with the truth.
I think it is important to understand why we are a moral species, and where our moral attitudes come from. In doing so we naturally want to understand especially why some of our behaviour is so destructive and dangerous.
Today there is a science of morality which is revealing a lot about the reasons why we behave as we do. And some of this comes back to our unconscious (or subconscious) intuitions. We have moral reflex behaviour. We are also developing an understanding of how these intuitions have arisen evolutionary (sure there’s still a lot of speculation there) and how some of these reflex intuitions can be (and are) hijacked by particular social groups for their own ends.
It would be nice to think that as a society we used this new scientific understanding to modulate our behaviour – make choices, apply some of our intellectual and reasoning abilities. For example, much of our entertainment – TV reality shows, sporting activity, commercial and advertising activity – utilises the negative aspects of our “them vs us” intuitions. Probably many of the promoters of this activity are aware of this – they probably get psychological advice in their work. But perhaps society should recognise that as this panders top some of our most dangerous intuition we should attempt to control this. Perhaps instead we should use some of this scientific knowledge, psychological advice, to promote entertainment, sporting and commercial activities which actually appeal to some of the more positive aspects of our moral intuitions.
In approaching this issue scientifically (and surely that’s the best way to do it) we should understand the sources of our moral intuitions and logic. I think it is actually important to know if these have evolutionary origins or arise simply from family environment or education. This would have an immense effect of how we determine solutions to our social problems.
Damian/Ken,
Yes, and understanding those things (effects of alcohol, group-’pride’, etc.) are beneficial no matter how much/little they have been shaped this/that way by evolutionary development (and we can know how these things affect us without any knowledge about our evolutionary past).
It’s not so much ‘how we got here’ that matters, but a) understanding ‘how are we’ (how do we function well – what is ‘functioning well’ – and what keeps us from doing it?), and b) how do we do better?
Humans find themselves able to manipulate their environment such that an accurate accounting of previous environments (and adaptation to them, etc.) does not tell them what kind of environment they should be ‘striving’ for. An accounting of past adaptations ‘this’ or ‘that’ way doesn’t tell us which way we should strive toward in any given situation.
I’m not sure that anyone has been trying to derive an ought from an is. I certainly haven’t been.
Did you think that in making an observation about how something may have come about (so as to better understand it) that we’ve been somehow advocating for it?
All we’ve been saying is that by examining our heritage and the fact that other people in other in-groups seem as convinced as us, we are able to infer a blindspot. When we are a part of an in-group it doesn’t feel like we are being biased but when we look at other people in in-groups we can see that there is a high likelihood that we, too, are being biased somehow. Asking ourselves how this came about shows us that it’s a side effect of a very natural part of living in societies and allows us to understand that, no matter how it feels to us at the time, it’s not necessarily the way things ought to be.
And to find what ought to be, we have to look to a consensus of reason rather than our evolutionary past.
…and we can know fully well how in-group dynamics work without detailed knowledge of our evolutionary past. Or did we only just recently discover that we like being around people we agree with? Certainly evolutionary understandings compliment these understandings, but they didn’t create them?
I disagree. I think we can understand that by simply observing how we are now!
We were not suddenly ‘enabled’ to understand favouritism post-Darwin.
Couldn’t have said it better myself!
Look back through the past dozen comments and you’ll see that no one has made that claim.
Again, no one has claimed that we are suddenly ‘enabled’. Just that it adds more information to our understanding.
I knew we’d find agreement somewhere!
I think there is a reaction to the e-word. However, whatever ones feelings about our past, we cannot understand our species without studying it in its interconnections, change and development.
Now that’s a philosophical position but one I have always felt important. Simply observing how we are now (and in isolation from our environment and history) is surely just naive reductionism. Reductionism has its place but without its necessary corollary, what Peter Atkins called “assemblism,” we can never really understand what we are studying.
I genuinely think my point still stands? (honestly not trying to ‘win’ here or be arrogant) I’ve affirmed the value of knowing our past (evolutionary or otherwise), but maintained that we can know all we need to know about judgmentalism or arrogance or favouritism, etc. by simply (carefully – rigourously) observing the way things are now. Awareness of evolutionary adds (helpful and appreciated) nuance to these observations, but doesn’t help us (as Damian’s phrase captures) know the ‘way to go’.
I just wrote a greatly frustrated reply but decided not to press ‘submit’ because this is waaaaaaaay off course and not worthy of any more consideration.
The goal of this post was to find methods readily acceptable to all that will help us get closer to the truth. We’ve established that group-think can unfairly bias our perceptions.
Changing topic.
As we have just perhaps observed, something else that can get in the way of finding truth is reading too much into what another person says (we all all guilty of that!) exaggerated by your perception of their beliefs. A classic example of this would be where a secular humanist is immediately distrustful when a religious organisation says that they think we ought to look after the suffering children in Africa because, based on past experience or natural prejudice, they assume that the ulterior motive is to proselytise rather than simply give aid.
The fact of the matter may be that they have no interest in proselytising and, like you, share a genuine concern for the suffering of children.
Perhaps the best trick in this situation is to actively try to assume the best in people’s motives especially in the absence of any evidence to the contrary because we can be sure that our biases are working overtime to lean us towards assuming the worst.
This fitting information into preconceived ideas/biases is a big one. We all do it. Dare I say its probably an instinct which has arisen for good evolutionary reasons.
I know it’s hard to overcome this. One way is to try and develop a tendency to “devils advocate” – to automatically have a quick mental consideration of the alternative argument (probably easier when one is being exposed to something one tends to agree with). I find that I tend to do this while listening/watching news reports.
Another approach is to develop good listening and questioning skills. Before concluding motives try to listen to what is actually said. And if possible to actually ask good questions, especially around areas which may be feeding ones confirmation biases.
One may not necessarily have to assume the best in peoples’ motives. Perhaps it may enable us to reveal the true underhand motives rather than the one we have assumed. And thereby learn more about the opposition?
Sorry if I’ve been overly frustrating.
As I mentioned elsewhere recently, I think seeking common ground is a key thing in the pursuit of truth. Heck, the pursuit of truth itself is common ground most of us can stand on? Though you rightly ask in the post about the times we’d prefer not to know the truth!
This is why I often propose ‘espistemology’ and ‘philosophy’ as key places to seek common ground. If people cannot even agree on what truth/knowledge is and how it is gained, then they’ll not ever agree or even reach mutual understanding.
Rather than constantly put scientific knowledge against religious knowledge, why not talk about what truth is, and what knowledge is? Of course, this all requires great patience and being prepared to really think hard through the meanings of words (i.e. Ken and I often butt heads about the word ‘reality’), and (more importantly!) the concepts/assumptions behind them.
(I also agree that we don’t necessarily have to assume motives are either bad or good, we can just try to look at their actions/ideas/etc. and engage with them.)
Dale, my experience with people who insist on diverting discussion to “philosophy”, etc. is that it is used as a muddying procedure. It is very easy to get into mental gymnastics and “prove” anything you want via “philosophy” and “logic.” Scientific research teaches the practitioner that the real test of “truth” is in mapping against reality. And to be suspicious of anyone, or any world view, that refuses to do this.
Now, I am sure we could get into a very extensive discussion “about what truth” is (and perhaps end up with a very mystical but useless meaning) but it won’t help us one iota in solving real problems. Meanwhile most of humanity gets on with doing the job. They have an (possibly instinctive) understanding of “truth” – and importantly a practical rather than “philosophical” understanding. It is this type of understanding which has got us to where we are today and will help us solve the current problems we have.
Maybe it is just my biased perception – but I can’t help thinking that these sort of diversions into “philosophy” are common to those who argue for a theistic position. I keep wondering if this isn’t what is taught to people who study theology.
Whereas, in most cases, scientific training seems to encourage discussion into considering evidence and how well ideas conform to reality. (And, yes, I would see attempt to divert discussion of my use of “reality” into “philosophical” dead ends as an an attempt at muddying rather than clarifying).
I can honestly understand why you’d see that as ‘muddying’, Ken. But I’ve seen soooo much talking past one another and not being willing to listen patiently and actually talk about what words are being assumed to mean, and it doesn’t have to be that way. We actually can get closer to mutual understanding.
And here’s a very key point: it’s not so much a matter of “diverting” an otherwise clear discussion to philosophy, but instead, in many/most of these kinds of conversations, there are muddy, cluttered, contradictory and confused philosophical assumptions lying at or just beneath the surface at almost every point. So I think the logical (and practical!!!) thing to do is to actually talk about these philosophical assumptions. And if it’s done patiently and humbly it can be clarifying to what is often a muddy discussion.
Of course there are assumptions, Dale. And if these are persisted in no wonder people talk past each other because they just aren’t using the same language or definitions.
I usually try to make as few assumptions as possible. That’s why I avoid words like natural, supernatural, materialist, idealist, etc., because each has an underlying assumption and personal definition. I think it is possible to approach reality, and to approach scientific understanding of reality, without any of these assumptions.
In practice I also think the practitioners of science don’t indulge in these assumptions (at least at a conscious defined level). If we did we would probably not have made the progress we have – and we would have all those amazing, fantastic (and seemingly “supernatural”) theories that we do have.
Ideally if we are going to use these words we should come to an agreed understanding of how we mean them to be used and what they mean. Alternatively, I believe we can get by without them. And I believe that helps reduce the chance of diversion into “philosophical” backwaters and muddying of these waters.
I certainly wouldn’t want to say that discussion of philosophical assumptions would/will be easy or comfortable. Philosophical assumptions are largely sub-conscious, so it’s always hard to be conscious of sub-conscious things and we all may indeed have more of these sub-conscious assumptions than we are conscious of.
That is why I think –difficult as it may be– it is so key to do the hard work of talking about what we assume words to mean.
And yes, for you and I, we quite often quibble (not suprisingly) over the word ‘reality’ – on which I (not just for hits!) direct your attention to my post on god and reality here.
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