Showing posts with label Daniel Kahneman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Daniel Kahneman. Show all posts

Monday, June 28, 2021

Thoughts for the Day: Monday 28 June 2021

 


Attention, however, intrinsically is a way in which, not a thing: it is intrinsically a relationship, not a brute fact. It is a ‘howness’, a something between, an aspect of consciousness itself, not a ‘whatness’, a thing in itself, an object of consciousness. It brings into being a world and, with it, depending on its nature, a set of values.


“Studies have shown that 90% of error in thinking is due to error in perception. If you can change your perception, you can change your emotion and this can lead to new ideas. Logic will never change emotion or perception.”

--Edward DeBono


“People prefer their sources of information to be highly correlated. Then all the messages you get are consistent with each other and you’re comfortable."

— Daniel Kahneman

One way to spot a poor thinker is to see how many of their decisions boomerang back to them. If poor thinkers make poor decisions it stands to reason those decisions will eventually create more problems. More problems consume more time, leaving them even less time to think about new problems.

The time used to correct poor thinking comes from the time that could be used for good thinking.

Good thinkers understand a simple truth: you can’t make good decisions without good thinking and good thinking requires time.

Good thinking is expensive but poor thinking costs a fortune.

--Farnum Street blog


The relevant sense of reasonable, and the phrase reasonable doubt, appeared in the sixteenth-century Scholastic, Suarez, while the reasonable man has an ancestor in the steady man of medieval canon law: If a man and woman are surprised by her father and compelled to marry, the man’s consent is null and the marriage void if the fear inflicted on him is such as would coerce a “steady man.”

History is the knowledge of an infinite whole whose parts, repeating the plan of the whole in their structure, are only known by reference to their context. But since this context is always incomplete, we can never know a single part as it actually is.


Most Westerners who travel in India find rickshaws discomforting. Although I have used them a lot over the years, in part because I sometimes feel safer to have company in strange parts of Indian cities, I have always found the experience morally jarring. Westerners tend to be big and heavy compared to Indians, and rickshaw drivers often have to use almost all their strength to move their machines with one of us on board. It seems reprehensible to sit in relative comfort on the back of a rickshaw while a nearly destitute person pedals one around for a few rupees. On the other hand, those rupees are vitally important for the driver, and it seems just as reprehensible to walk to spare oneself guilt.
N.B. This captures my feeling as well. We rarely used human-powered rickshaws, but when we did, I felt both uncomfortable but gratified to have given this man [sic] something (generous] towards his daily bread.

[Alfred] Adler must be regarded as the fatherfigure of the new generation in psychology: [Victor] Frankl, [Abraham] Maslow, [Medard] Boss. What he called ‘the affirmative unfolding of the organism’ was, in fact, a recognition of the basic evolutionary drive of human beings, that man is an evolutionary animal, and that neurosis is the frustration of this evolutionary drive. In dealing with neurosis, Adler was less concerned to trace its roots in the patient’s childhood than to understand its meaning, what it was driving towards.

Heidegger, like Hemingway, claims that man only knows himself in the face of death or crisis (‘only a bullfighter lives his life all the way up’)—we may recollect, for example, Anna Karenina’s recognition, as she flings herself under a train, that death is the last thing she wants. This is the basis of their negative judgement on human life: that even the most intelligent of us are blinded by triviality until crisis shocks us awake (and by then it is usually too late).

The Chilean people had made a mistake in electing Allende—actually only a plurality of Chileans had been mistaken. Given what he knew, what he expected, and what he feared, Henry Kissinger was not going to let the mere fact of a free election stand in his way of dealing with a potential threat to the United States. “I don’t see why we have to stand by and watch a country go Communist because of the irresponsibility of its own people.” The statement looks a lot different if one has the rise of Adolf Hitler in mind.




Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Is It Okay to Hate Derp?



A pair of columns in the NYT yesterday provides a jumping off point for a discussion of political civility and argument. I first read this piece by Arthur Brooks entitled “The Thrill of Political Hating” that decries political hatred. Brooks intends to make his argument even-handed, implying that both those on the right and on the left can get into political hating. This is true, but only in a limited sense. In the U.S. today, to claim an equal weight of political invective and hatred between right and left doesn’t match reality. At one time, perhaps, in the late 19th century and the early 20th century, but today, with few exceptions, vitriol on the left is largely missing. In fact, much of popular conservatism, I’m talking ordinary Joe and Jane Doe (well, I’d wager John much more than Jane) who might post anonymously and those who feed upon their fears (Fox “News”) and its offspring, hatred. (I’m not referring to most intellectual conservatives, like Arthur or David Brooks, Ross Douthat, David Frum, etc.) The most frightful and disturbing phenomena in much of popular politics today is the fear-driven, angry aspect of so much of popular conservatism. (I think that the phenomenon is much better described as “reactionary” than “conservative”, but I’ll defer to the popular nomenclature for the moment.) I understand those who favor lower-taxes (always), less government (always), and favor the use of violence as a first resort. I don’t agree with these lock-step approaches to running a government, but I understand self-interest. But the frightening and difficult thing about much of popular conservatism stems from its irrational nature, the “what’s the matter with Kansas?” phenomenon. We’re talking about mostly white, blue-collar, marginally employed workers. Their understandable frustration and anger sends them careening into the arms of those who will most likely harm their collective interests. The Koch Brothers and the Koch Brother’s U.S. Congress® aren’t the friends of Americans on the economic margins. 

While I agree that hate is not the answer, what do we do with those who cynically exploit those driven by fear? To borrow a stock but relevant example, should we have hated a Hitler? What of those who cynically exploit the less sophisticated to augment their own power and desires? At some point, the messenger is the message. I’m not talking about garden-variety ambition that is the mark of any high-ranking politician. (I was recently shocked that someone like Russ Roberts could object to Hillary Clinton because of her ambition? Really? And what about every person who’s ever held the office of president or wanted to do so?) I’m talking about those for whom all moorings to the public good as an independent goal have loosened, and only private gain, power, and glory drive the office-holder. 

Let me hasten to point out that this essay is not entitled “In Defense of Hatred”. In fact, I yearn for the (sort of) good ol’ days when there was dialogue across the aisle. Ronald Reagan provides an example of one who could speak radically (right) and act (relatively) pragmatically. (Reagan, like Clinton, wanted to be liked.) I don’t find personal vitriol useful. Even those with whom I disagree, I hope I can reason with and establish some common ground. For instance, I’ve voted against Charles Grassley every opportunity that I’ve had (100% unsuccessfully) since 1974, but I’m sure I could enjoy a chat with the Senator. I’ve seen him at the airport and at girls' volleyball tournaments by himself, no entourage, and he appears to be modest, unassuming, and pleasant. On the other hand, his attitudes have moved from H.R. Gross conservatism to Tea Party nuttiness. While he’s probably a swell guy, his politics are antediluvian. (The fact that Iowa could elect him and Tom Harkin all of those years shows how “swell guy” counts for more than any particular political stance.)

And what should we make of Brooks’s comments about mockery, citing the work of psychologist John Gottman? I assume that he’s aiming at Jon Stewart and (the late) Stephen Colbert. Sometimes they’ve walked the edge with their mockery, but most of the time their satire and parody have seemed the only appropriate response to some of the inanity that attempts to pass for legitimate political and cultural discourse. A medieval court fool was probably more likely to lose his head than to influence the king’s policy, but in a democratic society, we should cherish the “fools” who mock the pretenses of the powerful. It can edge toward cynicism, but only for the truly cynical at heart. I believe that Jon Stewart and (the late) Stephen Colbert, for all of their mocking and satirical humor, probably are better citizens and persons than many of those whom they mocked. 

And for those who post anonymously? Almost always an act of unjustified cowardice and often indicative of the traits that Brooks lists: “sadism, psychopathy and Machiavellianism”. (N.B. “Machiavellianism” is not representative of Machiavelli’s project as a whole.) 

Paul Krugman’s column, “Fighting the Derp”, provides a fitting bookend to the Brooks piece. In it, Krugman defines “derp” (courtesy of “South Park”) as “people who keep saying the same thing no matter how much evidence accumulates that it’s completely wrong”. (Query: is “derp” the people who keep promoting the same disproven contentions or the disproven contentions themselves?) In any event, Krugman’s piece raises a couple of important points: How can we distinguish derp from honest policy disagreements based on limited knowledge? And how should we fight derp? As to the first point, Krugman suggests the policy prescriptions and descriptions of reality that don’t vary with changing evidence and circumstances is a strong sign of derp. And we must be on guard within ourselves to avoid derp, primarily by remaining vary cautious about ideas, reports, and recommendations that fit with our preconceptions (the confirmation bias, in Kahneman terms). By the way, Krugman filed a follow-up piece entitled "I Do Not Think That Derp Means What You Think It Means", further defining and distinguishing the issues.

Thus I think that I’m resolved to hate derp (the phenomena) and love (as best I can can) the derper (my word of the person conveying the derp), a variant on the Christian injunction to hate the sin but to love the sinner. But I must say, I reserve a sense of caution about a serial derper, about this person’s intelligence and, more importantly, about this person’s ethics. I’m loath the trust a serial derper. 

And as to public debate and intellectual battle—let it fly! Let me end with this quote from C.S. Lewis, no stranger to intellectual combat: 

Do not misunderstand. I am not in the least deprecating your insults; I have enjoyed these twenty years l’honneur d’etre une cible and am now pachydermatous. I am not even rebuking your bad manners; I am not Mr. Turveydrop and “gentlemanly deportment” is not a subject I am paid to teach. What shocks me is that students, academics, men of letters, should display what I had thought was an essentially uneducated inability to differentiate between a disputation and a quarrel. The real objection to this sort of thing is that it is all a distraction from the issue. You waste on calling me liar and hypocrite time you ought to have spent on refuting my position.

Zaleski, Philip; Zaleski, Carol (2015-06-02). The Fellowship: The Literary Lives of the Inklings: J.R.R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, Owen Barfield, Charles Williams (p. 472). Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Kindle Edition.

To this I say, "Amen".

Monday, October 27, 2014

Trying Not to Try: The Art & Science of Spontaneity by Edward Slingerland


Published in 2014

In this book, Edward Slingerland combines his deep learning about the classics of Chinese culture with an appreciation of important work in contemporary psychology. Slingerland shows that the traditional Chinese concepts of wu-wei (not-doing) and de (virtue) found in the works of Confucius, Laozi, and others in the Warring States period accord with a growing appreciation of embodied psychology in contemporary thinking. He makes a convincing argument that the Chinese tradition identified issues that we’re still trying to sort out today. 




Confucius

Laozi
Confucius, Laozi, Mencius, Xunxi, and Zhuangzi, in other words, both the Daoist and the Confucian traditions, attempted to identify and cultivate spontaneity within individuals. We can identify spontaneity in a mundane task such as butchering an ox, as related in the famous story of Cook Deng told by Zhuangzi, but its greatest value arises in social interactions. The virtuous person (a person with de) is at ease with others, acting spontaneously, thereby putting those others at ease. Confucius argued that appropriate spontaneity arises through assiduous cultivation, while Laozi and Zhuangzi wrote in favor a more spontaneous spontaneity. (Mencius argued to split the difference.) 

In recent Western psychology, such as in the work of Daniel Kahneman, psychologists have developed the concepts of System 1 and System 2 "thinking". System 1 is quick, spontaneous, and habitual, while System 2 is slower, more intense, and more energy demanding. We identify System 1 with the body and instinct, while System 2 is rational, calculating, and centered in the head. Slingerland argues that achieving true wu-wei that results in a realization of de comes from the melding of these two systems into a dynamic harmony. The Dao any anyone? 


Slingerland fills the book with examples of the action-less doing of wu-wei (the “zone” or “flow” in sports, for instance) as well as examples from contemporary psychology and neuroscience. To my mind, perhaps the most common example for most is riding a bike: after learning through early, self-conscious effort, we finally let go and just do it. It comes “naturally”. Slingerland argues persuasively that our modern, Western individualism and attendant emphasis on conscious effort isn’t always the best way to accomplish an end. Sometimes we have to let go to reach obtain our goal. (Yes, there is a discussion of Luke Skywalker and his antecedents in Zhuangzi). 

This is a thoughtful and delightful book, one that enlightened me a great deal about some of the classics of Chinese culture while using those ideas to elucidate the findings of an important area of contemporary psychological research. The quandary of spontaneity versus focused, planned action is indeed a familiar one, whether one is attempting to fall asleep (never can be forced), continue a shooting hot streak in basketball (often lost as soon as realized), or in writing a blog. Sometimes writing a blog seems effortless, sometimes forced, but it always needs both flowing inspiration and careful, rational editing. Slingerland’s book gives us ideas about how we might realize our de, our virtue, in new and productive ways—or simply perhaps via The Way.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Mastermind: How to Think Like Sherlock Holmes by Maria Konnikova



Mastermind: How to Think Like Sherlock Holmes
Few literary characters have the staying power of Sherlock Holmes, the creation of Arthur Conan Doyle. Years of book spin-offs, movies, and television don’t seem to have diminished our appetite for this rather bizarre fellow. Recent incarnations include the rather frenetic portrayal of Holmes by Robert Downey, Jr. in the two Guy Ritchie films, and Benedict Cumberbatch’s more recent (and to my mind more faithful) incarnation set in contemporary London (with Martin Freeman providing a superb Watson). Why are we so intrigued by this (almost) super-human misfit? I think because he is human and not super-human—that he does things that we can imagine doing. I think Maria Konnikova shares this perception. 

Ms. Konnikova is a psychologist who grew-up hearing Holmes stories read to her by her father in her native Russian. Now with a doctorate in psychology, she unpacks the dynamics of Holmes and his foil Watson to share with us ways in which we might emulate the great (fictional!) detective. For this task, Konnikova draws extensively on both the Holmes stories of Conan Doyle and cutting-edge psychological research. 

It turns out the Holmes-Watson pairing matches well with the “thinking fast and slow” paradigm of Daniel Kahneman (more prosaically designated as System 1 and System 2 thinking). Watson goes quick and instinctive, while Holmes thinks; Watson glances, Holmes observes. To put it in a nutshell, Holmes makes the sustained and energetic effort to observe and consider what he perceives, while Watson wants to cut to the chase (a surgeon, no doubt). 

Konnikova details the ways these two men go about their detecting work in light of what modern psychology has taught us. She highlights the scientific frame of mind used by Holmes that looks for evidence and tests hypotheses. She considers what information he puts (or doesn’t put) into his “brain attic”. Holmes is rather single-minded in his pursuit of information needed to make him the world’s only “consulting detective”, unlike Watson, who fills his mind with the drivel of the evening paper. But perhaps the most surprising difference between the two is that Holmes uses his imagination. He does so in a systematic and focused way, not in flights of fancy or mental woolgathering. Like Einstein’s thought experiments (riding that beam of light), Holmes tests and weighs alternatives in his mind based on the empirical evidence that he gathers and considers in the light of logic. We learn that imagination is at least as important, if not more important, than logic in resolving the problems that Holmes faces. 

We also learn that creativity plays a huge role in how Holmes operates. He improvises in each new situation, drawing on different mental practices as circumstances require—some need the magnifying glass, while others may constitute a “three-pipe problem” that mark an effort of sustained mental work. (Or a three nicotine-patch problem if you’re Cumberbatch’s incarnation in smoke-free London.) Konnikova emphasizes the dexterity and flexibility of the great detective’s mind. 

Konnikova concludes with the important point that Holmes never stops learning. He does err (rarely), but he reflects and learns from those errors, and he’s always getting his (non-mandatory) continuing education through his own self-guided study. How many times does Holmes cite a precedent to the unenlightened inspector or to Watson? He knows his subject matter! 

This is both an informative and immensely entertaining book. Large doses of Holmes mixed with intriguing perspectives from contemporary psychology make it fun to read. And, I hope, after having read it and reviewed it, we find ourselves a little more Holmes-like in resolving our problems, although, I hope with more social tact than our rather introverted detective. Also, I don’t think that I could ever match the eagle-eyed abilities that he possesses. As an aging, life-long four-eyes, I believe myself nearly hopeless in this regard!