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http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/02/27/why-facts-dont-change-our-minds
I've recently become more and more amused at the supposed insult that something is irrational, or that people are acting illogically against what is "rationally" their own self interest, especially vis a vis politics. Increasingly, scientists are taking notice that reason is a tool and not a standard. The New Yorker felt compelled to write about this because Donald Trump won the election, which is something that Those Who Are Rational could not understand. Thus, their understanding of the power of Reason itself must be wrong:
Humans are of course, primarily concerned with context and not things. As George Lucas once said "A special effect without a story is a pretty boring thing." Meaning, roughly, that we are more social than we are scientist. Duh. But what's important is the borders of the group, NOT rationality of argument. They discover this.
^ This is the most full throated argument against democracy since the Athenians voted to invade Sicily.
My question would be what is more useful, false science in this instance, or true science in this instance? Is truth the correct atomic make up of an object, or its utility for group survival?
So here the well-meaning liberal encounters a seeming paradox; if "facts" (which is an almost useless term) fail to move someone, we are left with aesthetic and moral arguments. However, these are not rational arguments- and using them itself undermines the very pillar of Enlightenment rationality that our interlocutors at the New Yorker pray to quite religiously.
The smarter set realizes that when they were able to make reasoned arguments, it was due to a mutually held set of normative community values. This means all they have left is moral and aesthetic arguments.
Alistair MacIntyre's entire thesis is essentially that morality and ethics are socially derived and therefore not universal but rather irrational and normative to the community that produced them. What this means for our unfortunate bemoaners at the New Yorker is that the reason their rational arguments do not work, and why their moral arguments will not work, is because the other side no longer regards them as belonging to the same normative community.
In this context, it is easy to see why their arguments would be ignored; once belonging to a different moral group, arguments are seen much differently than if they come from within. The opposing group views such arguments suspiciously, and spots hypocrisy like an eagle, and concludes that such arguments are instruments for their division and destruction.
Their aesthetic arguments fail, of course, because they are ugly.
Since we no longer inhabit the same moral communities, I do not see any solution, nor is any solution really advisable. The internal system that calibrated "rightist" (roughly speaking) ethics has been discombobulated for a very long time, and all that remains is shallow moralisms and ritual obeisance to the same symbols. Why would any "leftist" (roughly speaking) want to pay fealty to that to "re-unite the tribe"?
What do you think the limits of rationality are in the political realm? Do you see a solution?
EDIT: Nietzsche's description of an objective, rational man (if such a thing could exist):
I've recently become more and more amused at the supposed insult that something is irrational, or that people are acting illogically against what is "rationally" their own self interest, especially vis a vis politics. Increasingly, scientists are taking notice that reason is a tool and not a standard. The New Yorker felt compelled to write about this because Donald Trump won the election, which is something that Those Who Are Rational could not understand. Thus, their understanding of the power of Reason itself must be wrong:
Stripped of a lot of what might be called cognitive-science-ese, Mercier and Sperber’s argument runs, more or less, as follows: Humans’ biggest advantage over other species is our ability to coöperate. Coöperation is difficult to establish and almost as difficult to sustain. For any individual, freeloading is always the best course of action. Reason developed not to enable us to solve abstract, logical problems or even to help us draw conclusions from unfamiliar data; rather, it developed to resolve the problems posed by living in collaborative groups.
“Reason is an adaptation to the hypersocial niche humans have evolved for themselves,” Mercier and Sperber write. Habits of mind that seem weird or goofy or just plain dumb from an “intellectualist” point of view prove shrewd when seen from a social “interactionist” perspective.
Humans are of course, primarily concerned with context and not things. As George Lucas once said "A special effect without a story is a pretty boring thing." Meaning, roughly, that we are more social than we are scientist. Duh. But what's important is the borders of the group, NOT rationality of argument. They discover this.
This borderlessness, or, if you prefer, confusion, is also crucial to what we consider progress. As people invented new tools for new ways of living, they simultaneously created new realms of ignorance; if everyone had insisted on, say, mastering the principles of metalworking before picking up a knife, the Bronze Age wouldn’t have amounted to much. When it comes to new technologies, incomplete understanding is empowering.
Where it gets us into trouble, according to Sloman and Fernbach, is in the political domain. It’s one thing for me to flush a toilet without knowing how it operates, and another for me to favor (or oppose) an immigration ban without knowing what I’m talking about. Sloman and Fernbach cite a survey conducted in 2014, not long after Russia annexed the Ukrainian territory of Crimea. Respondents were asked how they thought the U.S. should react, and also whether they could identify Ukraine on a map. The farther off base they were about the geography, the more likely they were to favor military intervention. (Respondents were so unsure of Ukraine’s location that the median guess was wrong by eighteen hundred miles, roughly the distance from Kiev to Madrid.)
^ This is the most full throated argument against democracy since the Athenians voted to invade Sicily.
Surveys on many other issues have yielded similarly dismaying results. “As a rule, strong feelings about issues do not emerge from deep understanding,” Sloman and Fernbach write. And here our dependence on other minds reinforces the problem. If your position on, say, the Affordable Care Act is baseless and I rely on it, then my opinion is also baseless. When I talk to Tom and he decides he agrees with me, his opinion is also baseless, but now that the three of us concur we feel that much more smug about our views. If we all now dismiss as unconvincing any information that contradicts our opinion, you get, well, the Trump Administration.
....
There must be some way, they maintain, to convince people that vaccines are good for kids, and handguns are dangerous. (Another widespread but statistically insupportable belief they’d like to discredit is that owning a gun makes you safer.) But here they encounter the very problems they have enumerated. Providing people with accurate information doesn’t seem to help; they simply discount it. Appealing to their emotions may work better, but doing so is obviously antithetical to the goal of promoting sound science. “The challenge that remains,” they write toward the end of their book, “is to figure out how to address the tendencies that lead to false scientific belief.”
My question would be what is more useful, false science in this instance, or true science in this instance? Is truth the correct atomic make up of an object, or its utility for group survival?
So here the well-meaning liberal encounters a seeming paradox; if "facts" (which is an almost useless term) fail to move someone, we are left with aesthetic and moral arguments. However, these are not rational arguments- and using them itself undermines the very pillar of Enlightenment rationality that our interlocutors at the New Yorker pray to quite religiously.
The smarter set realizes that when they were able to make reasoned arguments, it was due to a mutually held set of normative community values. This means all they have left is moral and aesthetic arguments.
Alistair MacIntyre's entire thesis is essentially that morality and ethics are socially derived and therefore not universal but rather irrational and normative to the community that produced them. What this means for our unfortunate bemoaners at the New Yorker is that the reason their rational arguments do not work, and why their moral arguments will not work, is because the other side no longer regards them as belonging to the same normative community.
In this context, it is easy to see why their arguments would be ignored; once belonging to a different moral group, arguments are seen much differently than if they come from within. The opposing group views such arguments suspiciously, and spots hypocrisy like an eagle, and concludes that such arguments are instruments for their division and destruction.
Their aesthetic arguments fail, of course, because they are ugly.
Since we no longer inhabit the same moral communities, I do not see any solution, nor is any solution really advisable. The internal system that calibrated "rightist" (roughly speaking) ethics has been discombobulated for a very long time, and all that remains is shallow moralisms and ritual obeisance to the same symbols. Why would any "leftist" (roughly speaking) want to pay fealty to that to "re-unite the tribe"?
What do you think the limits of rationality are in the political realm? Do you see a solution?
EDIT: Nietzsche's description of an objective, rational man (if such a thing could exist):
Friedrich W. Nietzsche said:The objective man, who no longer curses and scolds like the pessimist, the IDEAL man of learning in whom the scientific instinct blossoms forth fully after a thousand complete and partial failures, is assuredly one of the most costly instruments that exist, but his place is in the hand of one who is more powerful. He is only an instrument, we may say, he is a MIRROR--he is no "purpose in himself". The objective man is in truth a mirror accustomed to prostration before everything that wants to be known, with such desires only as knowing or "reflecting" implies--he waits until something comes, and then expands himself sensitively, so that even the light footsteps and gliding-past of spiritual beings may not be lost on his surface and film. Whatever "personality" he still possesses seems to him accidental, arbitrary, or still oftener, disturbing, so much has he come to regard himself as the passage and reflection of outside forms and events..... The objective man is an instrument, a costly, easily injured, easily tarnished measuring instrument and mirroring apparatus, which is to be taken care of and respected; but he is no goal, not outgoing nor upgoing...
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