The Purpose of Learning Is to Evolve Our Beliefs

A bit of comic relief to start things off.

"Dad, come here. I want to whisper something in your ear."

I lean down. He whispers.

"You're a dead man."

That  was our younger son, who just turned six, out of the blue the other night. No idea where he got the idea. My spouse wrote this on Facebook for his birthday:

Six years ago, [Younger] the Ebullient, came to complete our family.  His natural joy in making others happy is contagious. It is almost impossible to get him to make a choice that only considers himself.  A born leader, he loves "checking on everyone's progress", cares about everyone and everything (especially kitties!) and prefers to be with people and on the go! Pictured here at one year of age....  He told me he wants to grow up to take care of ALL the kitties in the world!  Now (so we all know my child isn't FB perfect), we just need to work on not kicking people or smashing things when we're mad, tired, or hungry!

Another moment from him; I'm not sure if this counts as comedy, wisdom, or both.

[Younger], at bedtime: "I'm hungry."

[Spouse]: "How about a glass of milk?"

"Okay!"

Waits . . . 

"Mom, are you going to get it?"

From the couch, as [Older]'s pillow: "Sorry. It's just [Older]'s so comfy."

Me: "Shall I get it?"

[Spouse]: "You look awfully comfy, too . . . "

"It's okay, I'll get it."

[Younger]: "Sorry, Dad. That's just the life of a parent."

That's just the life of a parent, being a dead man.

And one from his older brother, though this popped up on my Facebook memories from three years ago, when he would have been four.

"Are you sure I have eyes? I can't see my eyes."

A bedtime thought he was having.

I suppose you could say he was being scientific, doubting the reality until he could find some way to verify it with evidence.

Thinking like a scientist would align him with the advice of Adam Grant in his book Think Again: The Power of Knowing What You Don't Know. In my review, I wrote:

This excellent book does a wonderful job of teaching readers how to learn by evolving their beliefs. Grant starts by explaining why we default to getting stuck constantly trying to affirm our beliefs instead of challenging them, and then shows how to get beyond it. After a section for the reader as an individual, he goes into dealing with others and how to successfully stretch each other. His writing is accessible and entertaining and ever so helpful. I recommend it to everyone.

A bit more about it from Goodreads:

Think Again is a book about the benefit of doubt, and about how we can get better at embracing the unknown and the joy of being wrong. Evidence has shown that creative geniuses are not attached to one identity, but constantly willing to rethink their stances and that leaders who admit they don't know something and seek critical feedback lead more productive and innovative teams.

New evidence shows us that as a mindset and a skilllset, rethinking can be taught and Grant explains how to develop the necessary qualities to do it. Section 1 explores why we struggle to think again and how we can learn to do it as individuals, arguing that 'grit' alone can actually be counterproductive. Section 2 discusses how we can help others think again through learning about 'argument literacy'. And the final section 3 looks at how schools, businesses and governments fall short in building cultures that encourage rethinking.

In the end, learning to rethink may be the secret skill to give you the edge in a world changing faster than ever.

I pulled a lot of quotes from it. First, a few simple soundbytes:

The purpose of learning isn't to affirm our beliefs; it's to evolve our beliefs.

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A mark of lifelong learners is recognizing that they can learn something from everyone they meet.

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It’s a sign of wisdom to avoid believing every thought that enters your mind. It’s a mark of emotional intelligence to avoid internalizing every feeling that enters your heart.

Next, a chunk that lays out his main idea:

As we think and talk, we often slip into the mindsets of three different professions: preachers, prosecutors, and politicians. In each of these modes, we take on a particular identity and use a distinct set of tools. We go into preacher mode when our sacred beliefs are in jeopardy: we deliver sermons to protect and promote our ideals. We enter prosecutor mode when we recognize flaws in other people's reasoning: we marshal arguments to prove them wrong and win our case. We shift into politician mode when we're seeking to win over an audience: we campaign and lobby for the approval of our constituents. The risk is that we become so wrapped up in preaching that we're right, prosecuting others who are wrong, and politicking for support that we don't bother to rethink our own views. . . . 

Being a scientist is not just a profession. It's a frame of mind--a mode of thinking that differs from preaching, prosecuting, and politicking. We move into scientist mode when we're searching for the truth: we run experiments to test hypotheses and discover knowledge. Scientific tools aren't reserved for people with white coats and beakers, and using them doesn't require toiling away for years with a microscope and a petri dish. Hypotheses have as much of a place in our lives as they do in the lab. Experiments can inform our daily decisions. . . . 

Thinking like a scientist involves more than just reacting with an open mind. It means being actively open-minded. It requires searching for reasons why we might be wrong--not for reasons why we must be right--and revising our views based on what we learn.

That rarely happens in the other mental modes. In preacher mode, changing our minds is a mark of moral weakness; in scientist mode, it's a sign of intellectual integrity. In prosecutor mode, allowing ourselves to be persuaded is admitting defeat; in scientist mode, it's a step toward the truth. In politician mode, we flip-flop in response to carrots and sticks; in scientist mode, we shift in the face of sharper logic and stronger data. . . . 

Scientific thinking favors humility over pride, doubt over certainty, curiosity over closure. When we shift out of scientist mode, the rethinking cycle breaks down, giving way to an overconfidence cycle. If we're preaching, we can't see gaps in our knowledge: we believe we've already found the truth. Pride breeds conviction rather than doubt, which makes us prosecutors: we might be laser-focused on changing other people's minds, but ours is set in stone. That launches us into confirmation bias and desirability bias. We become politicians, ignoring or dismissing whatever doesn't win the favor of our constituents--our parents, our bosses, or the high school classmates we're still trying to impress. We become so busy putting on a show that the truth gets relegated to a backstage seat, and the resulting validation can make us arrogant. We fall victim to the fat-cat syndrome, resting on our laurels instead of pressure-testing our beliefs.

Be a scientist.

More on thinking scientifically and on embracing challenges, nuance, and complexity:

When we find out we might be wrong, a standard defense is "I'm entitled to my opinion." I'd like to modify that: yes, we're entitled to hold opinions inside our own heads. If we choose to express them out loud, though, I think it's our responsibility to ground them in logic and facts, share our reasoning with others, and change our minds when better evidence emerges.

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Charged conversations cry out for nuance. When we're preaching, prosecuting, or politicking, the complexity of reality can seem like an inconvenient truth. In scientist mode, it can be an invigorating truth--it means there are new opportunities for understanding and for progress.

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We learn more from people who challenge our thought process than those who affirm our conclusions. Strong leaders engage their critics and make themselves stronger. Weak leaders silence their critics and make themselves weaker. This reaction isn't limited to people in power. Although we might be on board with the principle, in practice we often miss out on the value of a challenge network.

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I finally understood what had long felt like a contradiction in my own personality: how I could be highly agreeable and still cherish a good argument. Agreeableness is about seeking social harmony, not cognitive consensus. It's possible to disagree without being disagreeable. Although I'm terrified of hurting other people's feelings, when it comes to challenging their thoughts, I have no fear. In fact, when I argue with someone, it's not a display of disrespect it's a sign of respect. It means I value their views enough to contest them. If their opinions didn't matter to me, I wouldn't bother. I know I have chemistry with someone when we find it delightful to prove each other wrong.

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Psychologists have a name for this: binary bias. It's a basic human tendency to seek clarity and closure by simplifying a complex continuum into two categories. To paraphrase the humorist Robert Benchley, there are two kinds of people: those who divide the world into two kinds of people, and those who don't.

An antidote to this proclivity is complexifying: showcasing the range of perspectives on a given topic. We might believe we're making progress by discussing hot-button issues as two sides of a coin, but people are actually more inclined to think again if we present these topics through the many lenses of a prism. To borrow a phrase from Walt Whitman, it takes a multitude of views to help people realize that they too contain multitudes.

A dose of complexity can disrupt overconfidence cycles and spur rethinking cycles. It gives us more humility about our knowledge and more doubts about our opinions, and it can make us curious enough to discover information we were lacking.

I've been preaching the value of nuance and complexity on this blog its entire existence. In 2009 I even titled a post Embrace Contradiction and Paradox. Here's more from Grant, with almost the same wording (from a footnote):

Some experiments show that when people embrace paradoxes and contradictions--rather than avoid them--they generate more creative ideas and solutions. But other experiments show that when people embrace paradoxes and contradictions, they're more likely to persist with wrong beliefs and failing actions. Let that paradox marinate for a while.

This chart has great advice:

This is off of his main point, but it's good to know / remember:

When my students talk about the evolution of self-esteem in their careers, the progression often goes something like this:

Phase 1: I'm not important

Phase 2: I'm important

Phase 3: I want to contribute to something important

I've noticed that the sooner they get to phase 3, the more impact they have and the more happiness they experience. It's left me thinking about happiness less as a goal and more as a by-product of mastery and meaning. "Those only are happy," philosopher John Stuart Mill wrote, "who have their minds fixed on some object other than their own happiness; on the happiness of others, on the improvement of mankind, even on some art or pursuit, followed not as a means, but as itself an ideal end. Aiming thus at something else, they find happiness by the way."

Trying to be happy doesn't make you happy. Another thought that has appeared multiple times on this blog in various forms.

So I guess this whole book merely confirms my beliefs and doesn't challenge them, but I think this is an area where Grant would say hold firm to your values as you evolve your beliefs. These are values.

One more quote from Think Again, from a footnote in his section on the Dunning-Kruger effect:

In a recent study, English-speaking teenagers around the world were asked to rate their knowledge in sixteen different areas of math. Three of the subjects listed were entirely fake-declarative fractions, proper numbers, and subjunctive scaling which made it possible to track who would claim knowledge about fictional topics. On average, the worst offenders were North American, male, and wealthy.

I've written before about White Supremacy Culture. This is a good example. It's part of our culture to not admit ignorance.

Related:

The Number One Reason White Men Give for Not Getting Involved with Diversity and Inclusion

Far more white men thought that DEI was at least somewhat important (48%), and 42% thought it was very important. Yet even in the latter group, dubbed the “True Believers” by the researchers, only 56% said they were actively supporting DEI at their jobs. The most common reason both groups gave for not being involved? “I’m too busy.” . . . 

According to the researchers, the readiness with which white men cite their lack of time points to an underlying issue in how many companies treat diversity and inclusion.

It’s “still seen as kind of extracurricular,” says Julia Taylor Kennedy, the lead researcher on the project and executive vice president at the Center for Talent Innovation. “It hasn’t been positioned as a core competency to driving business or individual leaders’ careers forward.”

And when white men, who continue to hold a disproportionate amount of senior-level positions, believe that they’re too busy to help with something as important as equality in the workplace, it’s no wonder that little progress gets made. . . . 

In order to get white men truly on board with DEI, the report argues that companies need to show them that building diverse, inclusive teams isn’t something that takes time away from their “real” work, and is instead a fundamental part of their jobs, as essential as hitting sales targets or bringing on new clients. . . . 

Senior executives can serve as role models in changing the perception that supporting DEI has no personal benefit for white men. During town halls and other internal events, she says, they should “include what they learned from teams that were diverse, how it helped them to identify previously overlooked markets, or what they gained as leaders by sponsoring women or people of color.” They should take advantage of opportunities to boast about individual teams or leaders who are highly involved with DEI efforts, the better to signal to the organization as a whole that people who support DEI get noticed.

The goal is to create an environment where it’s clear that DEI is a core value—one that no one who cares about their professional success could claim to be too busy to support.

A good place to start understanding some of the benefits would be with Think Again. New perspectives that challenge and grow our thinking are more likely to come from diverse populations.

Watching the bunny channel

This isn't really related, but I find it interesting and useful. I know Facebook and the rest have issues, but I still find them worth using in my own ways with the thoughts that follow in mind.

Social Media Isn’t the Problem . . . We Are

The problem is the data. 

See, there’s been research on social media and its effects on people. Lots of it. They’ve studied how it affects adults, how it affects children, how it influences politics and mood and self-esteem and general happiness.

And the results will probably surprise you. Social media is not the problem.

We are. . . . 

The researchers are leaning towards the conclusion that it’s anxiety and depression that drives us to use social media in all the horrible ways we use it—not the other way around. . . . 

There are plenty of explanations for growing political polarization and populism that don’t involve social media. . . . 

But social media is not destroying society, and even if it was, Big Tech is not fanning the flames. They’re actually spending a lot of money trying to put it out.

These companies have spent billions in efforts to fight back against disinformation and conspiracy theories. . . . 

Back in the 90s, conspiracy theories like my cousin’s were just as common as they are now. The difference was that they were far less harmful because the social networks that existed at the time cut them off aggressively at the source. That night at Thanksgiving dinner, my family members cut my cousin off, ending his ability to spread his ideas.

But today, someone like my cousin goes online, finds a web forum, or a Facebook group or a Clubhouse room, and all the little Y2Kers get together and spend all of their time socializing and validating each other based on the shared assumption that the world is about to end.

Facebook didn’t create the crazy Y2Kers. It merely gives them an opportunity to find each other and connect—because, for better or worse, Facebook gives everybody the opportunity to find each other and connect.

Once these people have found each other and connected, because of their shared belief in the apocalypse or whatever, they become far more motivated to post and engage with others about their crazy ideas. Think about it, nobody who thought New Year’s Eve 1999 was going to be fine felt any reason to say anything that night. It was only my cousin who couldn’t shut up and dominated the conversation for the next hour.

This asymmetry in beliefs is important, as the more extreme and negative the belief, the more motivated the person is to share it with others. And when you build massive platforms based on sharing… well, things get ugly. . . . 

The 90/9/1 rule finds that in any social network or online community, 1% of the users generate 90% of the content, 9% of the users create 10% of the content, and the other 90% of people are mostly silent observers.

Let’s call the 1% who create 90% of the content creators. We’ll call the 9% the engagers—as most of their content is a reaction to what the 1% is creating—and the 90% who are merely observers, we’ll refer to as lurkers. . . . 

The creators are largely the fools and fanatics who are so certain of themselves. They are people like my cousin James posting about the end of the world. They are disproportionately the finger-waggers, moralizers, and doomsayers. It’s not necessarily the platform’s algorithms that favor these fanatics—it’s that human psychology favors these fools and fanatics and the algorithms simply reflect our psychology back to us.

Meanwhile, the lurkers—the 90%—are people who are more or less reasonable. And because they are more or less reasonable, they don’t see the point in spending their afternoon arguing on Facebook. They aren’t sure of their beliefs and remain open to alternatives. And because they are open to alternatives, they are hesitant to publicly post something they may not fully believe.

As a result, the majority of the population’s beliefs go unnoticed and have little influence on the overarching cultural narrative. 

This is why the internet turns into this bizarro world where reality gets distorted and flipped on its head. . . . 

Because radical and unconventional views exert a disproportionate influence online, they are mistakenly seen as common and conventional. . . . 

Much of this can be summed up in the simple phrase: social media does not accurately reflect the underlying society. . . . 

Social media reflects a fun-house mirror of society, one that elongates and exaggerates the crazy and extraordinary, while minimizing and compressing the sane and ordinary. . . . 

Social media has not changed our culture. It’s shifted our awareness of culture to the extremes of all spectrums. . . . 

Rather than owning up to the fact that these online movements are part of who we are—that these are the ugly underbellies of our society that have existed and persisted for generations—we instead blame the social media platforms for accurately reflecting ourselves back to us. . . . 

Social media has not corrupted us, it’s merely revealed who we always were.

Social media does not accurately reflect the underlying society.

And speaking of the extremes, this article speaks to our current political polarization. It's long and fascinating, and I'm presenting just a quick summary. In many ways it reminds me of the book American Nations, which I posted about extensively almost a decade ago. I'm not completely on board with all of the author's assertions or conclusions, but it's interesting food for thought. He takes a critical eye to each of the "four narratives," and it was good to see my preferences examined critically.

How America Fractured Into Four Parts

Nations, like individuals, tell stories in order to understand what they are, where they come from, and what they want to be. National narratives, like personal ones, are prone to sentimentality, grievance, pride, shame, self-blindness. There is never just one—they compete and constantly change. The most durable narratives are not the ones that stand up best to fact-checking. They’re the ones that address our deepest needs and desires. Americans know by now that democracy depends on a baseline of shared reality—when facts become fungible, we’re lost. But just as no one can live a happy and productive life in nonstop self-criticism, nations require more than facts—they need stories that convey a moral identity. The long gaze in the mirror has to end in self-respect or it will swallow us up. . . . 

The 1970s ended postwar, bipartisan, middle-class America, and with it the two relatively stable narratives of getting ahead and the fair shake. In their place, four rival narratives have emerged, four accounts of America’s moral identity. They have roots in history, but they are shaped by new ways of thinking and living. They reflect schisms on both sides of the divide that has made us two countries, extending and deepening the lines of fracture. Over the past four decades, the four narratives have taken turns exercising influence. They overlap, morph into one another, attract and repel one another. None can be understood apart from the others, because all four emerge from the same whole.

• "Free America" - angry, antigovernmental libertarianism 
• "Smart America" - educated meritocracy, elite upper-class
• "Real America" - white, fundamental Christian, populist nationalism
• "Just America" - antiracism, identity politics

As Real America breaks down the ossified libertarianism of Free America, Just America assails the complacent meritocracy of Smart America. . . . 

All four of the narratives I’ve described emerged from America’s failure to sustain and enlarge the middle-class democracy of the postwar years. They all respond to real problems. Each offers a value that the others need and lacks ones that the others have. Free America celebrates the energy of the unencumbered individual. Smart America respects intelligence and welcomes change. Real America commits itself to a place and has a sense of limits. Just America demands a confrontation with what the others want to avoid. They rise from a single society, and even in one as polarized as ours they continually shape, absorb, and morph into one another. But their tendency is also to divide us, pitting tribe against tribe. These divisions impoverish each narrative into a cramped and ever more extreme version of itself.

All four narratives are also driven by a competition for status that generates fierce anxiety and resentment. They all anoint winners and losers. In Free America, the winners are the makers, and the losers are the takers who want to drag the rest down in perpetual dependency on a smothering government. In Smart America, the winners are the credentialed meritocrats, and the losers are the poorly educated who want to resist inevitable progress. In Real America, the winners are the hardworking folk of the white Christian heartland, and the losers are treacherous elites and contaminating others who want to destroy the country. In Just America, the winners are the marginalized groups, and the losers are the dominant groups that want to go on dominating.

Of course it's not the different perspectives that are the problem, but the extreme polarization and demonization, the unwillingness to listen to and learn from each other.

To tie back into Think Again, another book I gave five out of five stars; it's one I've quickly referenced before here, but not fully shared. Dream Teams: Working Together Without Falling Apart by Shane Snow

This is excellent. Highly engaging, entertaining, and readable, and full of well-explained big ideas.

The key to great teams, Snow shares, is cognitive diversity. The important ingredient, the thing that gets teams into The Zone, is not peace and harmony and sameness--it's engaging the tension between their perspectives, heuristics, ideas, and differences. He uses the analogy of a rubber band. Unstretched, it lacks potential energy. Stretched too far, it breaks. It has the most ability to achieve when stretched just the right amount for maximum sustainable tension.

Of course, that's a hard balance to achieve. It starts by forming teams of individuals who bring differences to the table. Homogeneity--even of values--won't produce enough tension. And there needs to be provocation and dissent. To keep things from breaking, there also needs to be openness and honesty, mutual respect and goals, intellectual humility and empathy. And play. Playing, it turns out, makes us less afraid of cognitive friction. The members of great teams push each other in just the right ways.

That all sounds well and good in a quick summary; it's much more convincing with Snow's examples and explanations. Each chapter weaves together multiple threads showing his insightful ideas in action. I highly recommend this for, well, everyone.

I nominated this for our leadership book club at work and it was selected. I might have to try the same with Think Again. They pair ever so nicely. One final quote from Dream Teams that echoes my opening quotes from that earlier book:

The key to intellectual humility is increasing the cognitive diversity inside our own heads.

And we increase our cognitive diversity by being challenged by others.