What If We're Wrong?

[Author’s note: Not to be confused with the Chuck Klosterman book of the same name, but does share the basic premise, that is, what if we’re wrong about many of our commonly held beliefs? I take a more practical approach to the question, whereas much of Klosterman’s commentary – which is nonetheless quite interesting – is more esoteric.]

 

I am guilty of doing it more often than I’d like, behaving like everyone else, much to my chagrin. While I often think about how I could help the world be a better place as it seems to descend further and further into madness, I usually come up empty-minded, with no easy solutions and quietly wishing for a comet to strike the planet ala Don’t Look Up. Then it dawned on me as I was reading Chuck Klosterman’s book, But What if We’re Wrong? – the title of the book; what if we asked ourselves that question before being so certain of our beliefs? For example, before hitting ‘send’ on that tweet, what if we asked ourselves, “What if I’m wrong about what I’m saying?”

 

The problem with old-timey Western European philosophers is that, by-and-large, their arguments are only successful in a vacuum and suppose common people en masse can be convinced to take the time and think philosophically, and then actually apply those ideas in the real world. This doesn’t happen very often if at all, and very few people enjoy the mental masturbation of thinking deeply about anything. This is perhaps due to human beings’ motivations not being all that deep or interesting. That said, it is no wonder that ‘academics’ are regarded with suspicion by authoritarian leaders…who really don’t have that much to fear from academics being that even the general population thinks of philosophers as bullshit artists. Why would this be the case? As I said, most people just can’t be asked to think very deeply about anything. But, if this is a case of conditioning, here’s where my idea can play a critical role in how we treat each other.

 

Suppose when interacting with other people, before we speak or act we ask ourselves, “What if I’m wrong?” Think about how far this question would go in beginning thought processes that go deeper. I might add that asking this question really should be our default position since – when considering human history – we’ve been wrong about far more things than right. (This is still the case today.) The only problem is that asking the question is likely to be cut off at the knees due to an overriding self-righteousness driven by our lust for power (however minor or illusionary).

 

But let’s say in the off chance that we’re able to stop ourselves and ask, “What if I’m wrong?” what follows? If we’re trying to make factual claims, such claims are easy enough to corroborate, at least until disinformation campaigns and deep fakes become even more prevalent. If we’re stating matters of opinion, we can ask ourselves why we hold the opinions we do, what is the opposing view and why does someone hold their positions, are there any other competing views that may illuminate a false dichotomy, and perhaps most importantly what is the consequences of stating my position? Am I stating a point of view for the sake of being right? Am I just trolling? Is it for the well-being of society? (Keep in mind just about everyone thinks this.) We might also ask ourselves, No, really, what if I am wrong and I get torched for it? Having the foresight to think of possible consequences is another trait most of humanity could stand to cultivate. Trust me, in the U.S. society is a disaster because both the left- and right-wings, and corporations prefer the lot of us to act on nothing but impulse. I could be wrong about why society is a disaster, but if I am wrong I’ll own up to it. And this is something else asking ourselves, “What if I’m wrong?” aims to do – foster some goddamn humility.

 

Few people are going to disagree that we need less humility in the world. I’m not saying anyone should be a pushover instead, but rather accept the reality that none of us are right about everything – again, we’re likely to be wrong about whatever we’re on about – and be willing to accept this fact (and I’m not wrong that our propensity for wrongness is a fact). But what if I’m wrong about how much better the world would be if we asked my important question? The consequences would not be dire; people would just resume what these days is normal behavior.

 

But let’s say I’m an oil executive who insists that fossil fuels aren’t helping to change the climate, that climate change is not being driven by human activity. What if I’m wrong about that? The consequences wouldn’t be that dire for me; I guess my fortunes would keep me comfortable at least for the rest of my lifetime. For everyone else, though, well, you’re screwed and I don’t care because I’ll be fine. Ah, but do I want my name (my genes, really) to go on? And would I’d rather send my progeny into a world where climate change isn’t an issue, giving them one less thing to worry about? So, there could be dire consequences, just not immediately. And there is a myriad of questions we could raise about being wrong in this instance which could give us insight into the consequences of being wrong. But if we don’t ask ourselves if we could be wrong we’d never be capable of any meaningful thought on an issue or be able to see into the future.

 

To be fair, on the other hand, what if climate scientists are wrong about climate change, that the earth is experiencing a normal, cyclic change in overall temperature? Let’s say the belief that humans are driving climate change drives us towards more and more renewable energy sources and away from fossil fuels, what are the terrible consequences of being wrong in this case? When you consider clean air and water, this alone would be enough for me to say I would accept the consequences of being wrong even if it meant a few people who work in the fossil fuel industry would lose their jobs. [People lose their jobs all the time; they can be retrained if they’re willing. I’d be willing to lose a job I had if it meant a more beautiful, and cleaner, less-toxic environment.] So, some consequences can be quite unfavorable and others favorable if we’re wrong on an issue. But – again – we’ve got to ask the question first.

 

We’ve all seen the consequences of a world in which people act without foresight and are reactionary in the moment. Does society have to behave like this, thus becoming less civilized? Impulses may compel us but the more reason is cultivated, the more we may dull the sword of impulse. As it stands, impulse is cutting all of our relationships to ribbons. Think about the consequences of continuing this course of behavior. Is it worth it? Let’s start by asking ourselves if its wrong to act like this; what are the consequences if we change our behavior so that our interactions have more favorable results (i.e. less harm)? My guess is even if we’re wrong to temper our impulses, if we’re wrong that causing less harm is actually doing more harm, we can see that makes no sense. I’d dare say that most of us would recognize this as insanity. I’d dare say most of us would not like to see society continue in this way. So, we should stop behaving in this manner, and all we have to do is ask a simply question.

 

Practice it. Practice it and it gets easier to do. If we find that asking ourselves if we’re wrong does not lead to better outcomes, we haven’t lost much and I can go back to wishing for a comet to strike the planet. I shouldn’t want to wish for that. But maybe I’m wrong.

Theory Parker: Citizen of the World

I’ve long maintained that one of the worst ideas to ever plague mankind is nationalism. Nationalism, the identification with one’s nation and its interests typically to the detriment of other nations, is a natural outcropping of tribalism which, long ago, used to be on a small enough scale as to not be harmful on a global scale. But, thanks to population growth, the internet, and all the other streams of media that know the value of sowing division, tribalism and nationalism have become so strongly embedded in people’s psyche that they would become virtually rudderless without these identity markers. When the alternative to being rudderless is being a detriment to other members of the human race, I, as a thinking and rational person, would choose to be rudderless. Only I am not; my county is the world. More on that momentarily.

The thing about concepts like tribalism and nationalism is that it divides people along often arbitrary lines. As a citizen of the United States I’m supposed to hate the Chinese for letting COVID-19 out of their country and wreaking havoc across the globe? Last time I checked, viruses didn’t have nationalities, doesn’t care what tribe you belong to, and will potentially kill you regardless. (Funny story – as of this writing the U.S. has more cases than any other. Americans are the ones spreading it more than any other nationality, so, I guess we’re supposed to hate Americans given the preceding logic.) Even within the United States, citizens are often raised to have contempt for their neighboring state because, well, because someone drew a line somewhere.

Tribalism and nationalism strictly ignore what binds people everywhere together – the fact that we’re all people where by ‘people’ we mean human beings. Undoubtedly it is difficult for nations to fight a wars if their troops think of the animals they’re fighting as anything more than that. Here, I’m reminded of a line from the movie Saving Private Ryan (I think) where one or the troops asks another, “Why are we fighting the Germans if we’re probably going to be friends 30 years from now?” (I’m paraphrasing). People everywhere have more in common than they think such as the need for food, clean air and water, shelter, friendship, intimacy, and a sense of belonging (e.g. tribalism). Of course there are nuances to these concepts but the point is people often have to conceptually go out of their way to dehumanize others in order to get a sense of any self-worth. Why should this be the case?

This shouldn’t be the case because it is clear that throughout history cooperation between people has been more productive than going to war or worse, committing to genocide. Squabbling over irrelevant things like which side of an egg to crack open accomplishes nothing and wastes time, though to be sure, people have killed each other for less, such as being a woman. What’s really at stake when people commit wholeheartedly to tribalism or nationalism is power, that goddamn exertion of power human beings are so bad at getting over. Certainly, Nietzsche’s Will to Power is more or less in the nature of all human beings, but it can be nurtured out of a person as easily as its flames are fanned by manipulative forces. Or, the Will to Power can be overcome by introspection. I overcame it through self-analysis when I realized (fortunately early enough) that I didn’t like people telling me what to do, especially when they didn’t have good reasons for wanting me to do what they wanted. This allowed me to examine the world through consecutively larger lenses.

And so I came to a point where I realized it’s irrelevant that I happen to be American by an accident of birth. (I find it repugnant when people do this, are proud of something they had no choice in being.) I could go so far as to say that I have so little in common – value wise –  with my countrymen and women that I’m actually not American. I’m a simple human being, much the same as any other, and if I owe allegiance to any group – which I don’t – it would be the human race whether that person is red, white, blue, or black. It doesn’t matter which country’s ideology one subscribes to, one is still part of the whole. We should then act accordingly because the differences one makes along ideological lines are less than the lines drawn between species (though, even at that point, we’re all still living things). The more one sees the bigger picture, the closer we can become. Divisions we’re supposed to prescribe to are typically driven by the rich and powerful. Recognize this and the less likely we are to be coerced to kill for them in wars. The only way I could possibly find myself fighting for my country of birth is if the entire world was at risk, such as in World War II. The ‘War on Terrorism,’ a situation the U.S. helped create, not so much. I’m sure I would fight for my own preservation, but until that’s required of me I have better things to do.

There are still many countries to visit and many cultures to experience. I find it fascinating to do so because one never knows when they’re going to come across a situation where they find people doing things better than they were doing within their own culture. And this is the value of experiencing other cultures; it allows you to see problems in a new light and therefore possibly solve them with different thinking. In the supposed words of Albert Einstein, “We cannot solve problems with the same kind of thinking that created them,” which he apparently said upon musing about a post-nationalist, post-militaristic world. It is clear no one culture is superior to another in successfully propagating the human race or in securing its future, so why is the idea so widely subscribed to? We already know and we already know that it’s false.

I owe allegiance to no country because no country has demonstrated it is superior to any other. (Proponents of American exceptionalism are easily defeated and will not be entertained here.) My allegiances are made on a case by case basis. My judgements are cast on a case by case basis. The world is too rich, too ripe for exploration to remain within one’s shell for too long. For it’s a myth that the shell offers protection. It does provide insulation, where being too cozy with one’s own ideas for too long leads to mental weakness, inflexibility, and worst of all, controllability. These are not a good things. If humanity as a whole would only recognize themselves as such, as human, the fewer robots there would be hell-bent on destroying it all.

Nietzsche on Morality

[Although I’ve never been a fan of Nietzsche (read my blog The Nietzsche Blues), he did have some interesting thoughts about morality. Through the course of his writings, he makes a case for extreme moral relativism and you’ll see what I mean in this examination…]

In The Gay Science, Nietzsche touches upon morality, offering reasons why we (or some of us) ought not to engage in moral judgement. His reasons begin to appear early in the

Nietzsche & his silly mustache.

second book when he takes to task the Realist interpretation of reality as being nothing more concrete than any person’s particular explanation of reality. Nietzsche remarks that the Realist is just as full  of  “prejudice, irrationality, ignorance, fear” (57) as anyone else and  as  such,  this prevents any true interpretation of the world. Later, in Section 116, Nietzsche writes that morality is, “the expression of the needs of a community or herd,” and we can take from this to mean that as an agent in one of these communities, the agent is not an impartial evaluator of morals. Nietzsche also sees that individuals within these communities tend to regard themselves as valuable only insofar as they serve a function within the herd, a view of one’s self that is antithetical to Nietzsche’s free-spirit or overman.

Nietzsche’s view of morality begins to become clearer in Section 301, where he points out that, “Nature is always worthless,” in the sense that morality is not born of or inherent in the natural world but that it is man who creates morality. The failure of men to recognize this creates errors in valuation. In sensing that there is something defective about current concepts of morality, Nietzsche chides historians of morality for not coming to a similar conclusion and as such historians are guilty of not critically evaluating morality. [Their lack of insight perhaps due to acquiescing to tradition or plain and common prejudices.] Nietzsche calls these historians childish, for when they think they are evaluating morality they are actually evaluating people. Thus, it should not be the job of historians to evaluate morality.

Scientists are likewise not to be arbiters of meaning in the world. It is the scientists’ view of the world that would be worst of all in Nietzsche’s opinion, for the scientific view would be the view most devoid of actual meaning. “An essentially mechanical world would be an essentially meaningless world,” he writes, adding how worthlessness a scientific evaluation of music would be (373). To Nietzsche, only a philosopher could possibly investigate such a human construct as morality.

A more precise formulation of morality is exactly what Nietzsche presents in On the Genealogy of Morals. In Genealogy, Nietzsche explains there are two types of morality. [This is not to say there are only two types, but the two types obvious within Western civilization.] There is Master morality—morality in which actions are either good or bad—and Slave morality, which evaluates actions as being either good or evil.

Master morality is characterized by a self-affirmation that they, the Master, are good. This, the self, is where (a) morality begins. If Masters begin by viewing themselves as good, what they value is likewise good: Nobility, courage, open-mindedness, truthfulness—these characteristics are helpful to Masters, insofar as they help Masters maintain their status, and that creates the value of such characteristics. We see then that Master morality is consequence-based; that which does not promote or advance their positions as Masters is deemed bad. [There is at least one notable exception to this rule: Enemies. Enemies are not held in contempt by Masters because Masters see themselves in the enemy. The enemy is trying to do the same as any Master—be a Master—and this, to any Master, should be viewed as honourable.]

Born in response to Master morality is Slave morality, a morality that holds intentions to be either good or evil. The Slave morality comes from weakness, out of being oppressed by Masters and as such does not seek what is good for (strong) individuals, rather it seeks what is good for the entirety of its community. The Slave morality holds that the characteristics Slaves do not possess (those characteristics common to Masters, for example) to be evil since such characteristic can give rise to injustices such as slavery.  Amongst the Slaves then, something such as  humility,  which would be bad as far as Masters are concerned, would be called a virtue by Slaves when in fact Slaves are humble not by choice, but precisely because they do not have a choice, being at the mercy of Masters. Slave morality is a form of resentment aimed at those who they cannot be like or whose goals they cannot assent to. Ironically, Slaves need Masters to define themselves; Masters do not require Slaves in this way.

To Nietzsche however, these formulations of morality are simply the inventions of a given society or culture to advance its own cause. What is good, for example, is merely the expression of whoever wills that conception. There is no metaphysically true morality. We can be fooled into thinking there are moral truths though, perhaps through conditioning or familiarization with the traditional meanings of morality such as they exist in Western civilization. Nietzsche believes that Slave morality has become triumphant in Western civilization, first through Christianity and then through democracy, and this is cause for worry.

Having conceptualized the overman prior to On the Genealogy of Morals, it is not difficult to sense why Nietzsche would be opposed to the triumph of Slave morality. If Slave morality seeks to cast all persons in the same context with the same values, individuals cannot assert any will to power. The Slave’s system of morality favours the interests of the largest numbers of persons, not the few who wish to flourish. An individual cannot create their own values if conditioned to believe tradition-based interpretations of morality. That said, we should make note that Master morality is not without fault either. It is as traditionalist as Slave morality and thus, can be opposed to change and opposed to (other) free-spirits.

Nietzsche thinks there can be morality, but it must come from within us as individuals; morality is never divorced from individual will. Only individual will, the fundamental drive within us, can assign value to anything. Our will to power is the origin of morality. However, if we accept beforehand that morality has fixed meaning(s), we can never aspire to independence and thus, we are surrendering ourselves to other wills. How would we ascend to the overman then? It will not be possible for as long as Slave morality remains embedded to reign over the free-spirit. To Nietzsche, Master mentality is clearly moral and Slave mentality is not because Nietzsche believes in the importance of individuals over any collective mentality. We cannot take Nietzsche to task for this view since he is the origin of morality as much as anyone else.