How to stop fooling yourself

When I first wrote about self-deception, a little more than a year ago, I found the experience traumatising.

It can be very troubling to realise that inside my own head I maybe tucking away truths that I am already aware of!

Now Eli Dourado has an essay in The Umlaut that discusses a paper by Tyler Cowen and Robin Hanson that grapples with the issue of self-deception.  Here’s the relevant bit:

Self-favoring priors, they note, can help to serve other functions besides arriving at the truth. People who “irrationally” believe in themselves are often more successful than those who do not. Because pursuit of the truth is often irrelevant in evolutionary competition, humans have an evolved tendency to hold self-favoring priors and self-deceive about the existence of these priors in ourselves, even though we frequently observe them in others.

Self-deception is in some ways a more serious problem than mere lack of intelligence. It is embarrassing to be caught in a logical contradiction, as a stupid person might be, because it is often impossible to deny. But when accused of disagreeing due to a self-favoring prior, such as having an inflated opinion of one’s own judgment, people can and do simply deny the accusation.

So how can we cope with self-deception?

Cowen and Hanson argue that we should be on the lookout for people who are “meta-rational,” honest truth-seekers who choose opinions as if they understand the problem of disagreement and self-deception. According to the theory of disagreement, meta-rational people will not have disagreements among themselves caused by faith in their own superior knowledge or reasoning ability. The fact that disagreement remains widespread suggests that most people are not meta-rational, or—what seems less likely—that meta-rational people cannot distinguish one another.

We can try to identify meta-rational people through their cognitive and conversational styles. Someone who is really seeking the truth should be eager to collect new information through listening rather than speaking, construe opposing perspectives in their most favorable light, and offer information of which the other parties are not aware, instead of simply repeating arguments the other side has already heard.

What sells in the name of journalism today is written to appease one side or the other. Opinions are important, but what is more important is facts that help you arrive at it and the process you use to form them. A good journalist should be a meta-rational person. He should also be able to find other meta-rational people, so that the world is made aware of facts and arguments that help take things a step forward.

The problem, of course, is that meta-rational people care less about success but more about seeking the truth/understanding the world. Their voices are present but harder to find. They get far less attention than they deserve.

You can stop reading now, if you like. For, because we are on the subject of good journalism and meta-rational people, I’d like to discuss an example of exactly the opposite. Aleks Eror writes in VICE that the Chinese are engineering genius babies. This is a great story, if it were true. Sadly, he bases this claim on the word of Geoffrey Miller, an American academic, who wrote a heavily biased article about it in January. What’s worse is that it Miller’s argument had been criticised and debunked (sort-of) immediately after. But Eror chose to ignore that and rehash the fear-mongering story.

The central point of the argument is that the Chinese have an institute where they are doing genome sequencing of the world’s smartest people to find the genes that makes us smart. This is not a new story. Eugenics in some shape or form has existed for a long time. The problem with Eror’s piece is that he doesn’t run by an expert the claims made by Miller.

A good science journalist should always do that because the complex nature of the subjects we usually deal with. Experts may not be the perfect meta-rational candidate that we’d like, but they are close enough. They bring an external perspective, and I’ve found that invaluable in my own work.

Socrates was a damn good journalist…

…except that he never took written notes.

A form of conversation, which Socrates owns copyright for, is called the Socratic method. To use the method one must aim to have a conversation with no holds barred and find things out by merely talking. Such conversations often end up being between two individuals each defending their positions. But the eventual aim ought to be to collaboratively learn something new about the world, and, if possible, come to a commonly agreed conclusion.

As a journalist in training, I was taught to interview scientists with just this aim (no one mentioned Socrates though). Ask questions, lots of them, but with an aim to arrive at a conclusion together. No other form of inquiry will help you learn as much as this form would, and it may even help you find a good story.

Why would someone read your story

With a flood of news available to every reader today, why would someone want to read what you write?

William Blundell in The Art and Craft of Feature Writing has, what he calls, the laws of progressive reader involvement. Or as I call it, why would I read your crap:

  1. Tease me, you devil: Intrigue me a little. Give me a reason for going on with your story instead of doing something else. Remember, I have no investment in you at all.
  2. Tell me what you’re up to: Enough teasing. What is your story really about? Please, no windy explanations, no details – just what’s going on here.
  3. Oh yeah? You’ll have to prove what you just said. Let’s see your logic. Let’s see your evidence. I’ve invested time in you by now, so I’ll be patient – but you better be convincing
  4. I’ll buy it. Help me remember it. Make it clear. Make it forceful. And put an ending on it that will nail it into my memory.