Friday, March 6, 2009

Mental Accuracy, Part 1

The more one looks at psychology, the easier it is to see just how shockingly inaccurate the human mind is. It doesn't do a good job of anything all by itself; unless you're actively using it, it botches things so readily it makes you question the whole "sentient life" idea to begin with. Without your intentional intervention and effort, your brain is only slightly north of plant life that manages to follow the sun across the sky. But knowing that gives you power over it, and helps you control it as you need to. Which is why I think the best thing to know about your brain - and everyone's brain - is something cognitivists call "snap judgment".

You've probably heard of research done by neuroscientists that explains how before you make a conscious decision, your brain has already prepared an electrochemical response to the stimulus. Determinists, depressing bastards that they are, are quick to latch onto this to explain that humans don't really have free will, because all of our decisions are really just those electrochemical signals going off. You may think that's interesting, but I'd prefer to go with the term "unhelpful in the extreme". It tells us nothing useful about ourselves, nothing that we can turn to our advantage. It's more useful to say that those chemical signals only make the decision final if the conscious processes say so, which brings us to how a snap judgment works, and what it is.

It starts with your brain being primed for a judgment somehow; perhaps you're intentionally doing it by forcing ideas upon yourself. The above chemical reaction happens, and then you consciously make a judgment about whatever it is, in an instant - literally a fraction of a second. You don't really need a lot of impetus to make judgments; we make them constantly, about almost everything, usually without giving it a second thought. To your brain, it's like switching on a light. And once we make those judgments, the easiest thing to do is defend them. When we make them, they seem self-evident. That's a snap judgment, in the psychological world.

There's nothing wrong with these judgments by nature; we all do it constantly. They're a phenomena of a brain that is in many respects as primitive as a horseshoe crab. They're a good thing to have; they help us make decisions in a pinch, they are fantastic at helping defend against a threat. Sometimes shooting from the hip really is the best course of action (the modern term "firing from retention" is preferred now, despite how badly it confuses HR personnel).

The downside to them is that when we make a snap judgment without questioning, biology wins, and biology isn't that comfortable with the world of informed thought. It'd much rather be put back where it could save you from a charging mammoth or particularly threatening insect than deal with all of this "reason" and "wisdom" nonsense. It makes it uneasy, like Yosemite Sam at a petting zoo.

So what happens when this biology wins in modernity? People make immediate and shallow judgments on very complicated issues, don't stop to question them, and end up defending them because the truth, they think, is self-evident. It appeared immediately to them, how could it not be right?

"Of course all drugs are bad, they just are."
"Religion is bad, just look at it."

There's a reason that the Founding Fathers only called three things "self-evident". It's because they were wise men, and knew damn well that everything else was going to take some noodle time. Despite what our brain likes to tell us, most things are not simple, and most things won't benefit from "puttin' a beatdown on it".

So here's how you beat the snap judgment, and rise above the rest of the animal kingdom with the exception of our jellyfish overlords. When you're in the realm of ideas, if you suddenly feel offended, or angry, or psyched up, or soothed, look carefully at what did that to you. Look at the context, the substance, the entire assembly. Think about why those had the effect on you that they did, and then intentionally ponder the alternatives. Think deep, think slow, and let those neurons volley to each other for a while. If you come to the realization that you don't know enough then you're already ahead of the game, and there's plenty more to learn no matter what you're thinking about. Go find it.

Repeat that process until you're comfortable with the idea of telling the civilized people that you respect (not just agree with) what you've thought about. If you can't say it in respectable company, around people who can make you feel honest shame, odds are good that you need to play with the ideas some more. If you don't, the reptile portion of your brain will turn your reasoning into a velociraptor's war cry - probably something embarrassing about tax hikes or genetically modified food.

I should note here that this process is vastly easier with a velvety armchair and a pipe. You should procure both before attempting any of this. They do not need to be brand new, I checked with Alistair Cooke's estate.

This is part one. Part two will be about observation error, which nobody should remain unaware of.

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