Skeptophilia (skep-to-fil-i-a) (n.) - the love of logical thought, skepticism, and thinking critically. Being an exploration of the applications of skeptical thinking to the world at large, with periodic excursions into linguistics, music, politics, cryptozoology, and why people keep seeing the face of Jesus on grilled cheese sandwiches.
Showing posts with label self-awareness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self-awareness. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 21, 2024

A self-portrait drawn by others

As you might imagine, I get hate mail pretty frequently.

Most of it has to do with my targeting somebody's sacred cow, be it homeopathy, fundamentalist religion, ESP, homophobia, climate change denial, or actual sacred cows.  And it seems to fall into three general categories:
  • Insults, some of which never get beyond the "you stupid poopyhead fuckface" level. These usually have the worst grammar and spelling.
  • Arguments that are meant to be stinging rebuttals. They seldom are, at least not from the standpoint of adding anything of scientific merit to the conversation, although their authors inevitably think they've skewered me with the sharp rapier of their superior knowledge. (Sometimes I get honest, thoughtful comments or criticisms on what I've written; I have always, and will always, welcome those.)
  • Diatribes that tell me what I actually believe, as if I'm somehow unaware of it.
It's the latter I want to address in this post, because they're the ones I find the most curious.  I've got a bit of a temper myself, so I can certainly understand the desire to strike back with an insult at someone who's angered you; and it's unsurprising that a person who is convinced of something will want to rebut anyone who says different.  But the idea that I'd tell someone I was arguing with what they believed, as if I knew it better than they did, is just plain weird.

Here are a handful of examples from my fan mail, to illustrate what I'm talking about:
  • In response to a post I did on the vitriolic nonsense spouted by televangelist Kenneth Copeland: "Atheists make me want to puke. You have the nerve to attack a holy man like Brother Kenneth Copeland.  You want to tear down the foundation of this country, which is it's [sic] churches and pastors, and tell Christian Americans they have no right to be here."
  • In response to my post on a group of alt-med wingnuts who are proposing drinking turpentine to cure damn near everything: "You like to make fun of people who believe nature knows best for curing us and promoting good health.  You pro-Monsanto, pro-chemical types think that the more processed something is, the better it is for you.  I bet you put weed killer on your cereal in the morning."
  • In response to a post in which I described my frustration with how many of our elected officials are in the pockets of fossil fuel corporations: "Keep reading us your fairy tales about 'climate change' and 'rising sea levels.'  Your motives are clear, to destroy America's economy and hand over the reigns [sic] to the wacko vegetarian enviro nuts.  Now that at least the REPUBLICANS in government are actually looking out for AMERICAN interests, not to mention a good man running for president who will put our country first when he's re-elected, people like you are crapping your pants because you know your [sic] not going to be in control any more."
  • And finally, in response to a post I did on the fact that the concept of race has little biological meaning: "You really don't get it do you?  From your picture you're as white as I am, and you're gonna stand there and tell me that you have no problem being overrun by people who have different customs and don't speak English?  Let's see how you feel when your kid's teacher requires them to learn Arabic."
So, let's see.  That makes me a white English-only wacko vegetarian enviro nut (with crap in my pants) who eats weed killer for breakfast while writing checks to Monsanto and plotting how to tear down churches and deport all Christians so I can destroy the United States.

Man, I've got a lot on my to-do list today.

I know it's a common tendency to want to attribute some set of horrible characteristics to the people we disagree with.  It engages all that tribal mentality stuff that's pretty deeply ingrained in our brains -- us = good, them = bad.  The problem is, reality is a hell of a lot more complex that that, and it's only seldom that you can find someone who is so bad that they have no admixture whatsoever of good, no justification for what they're doing, no explanation at all for how they got to be the way they are.  We're all mixed-up cauldrons of conflicting emotions.  It's hard to understand ourselves half the time; harder still to parse the motives of others.

So let me disabuse my detractors of a few notions.

While I'm not religious myself, I really have a live-and-let-live attitude toward religious folks, as long as they're not trying to impose their religion on others or using it as an excuse to deny others their rights as humans.  I have religious friends and non-religious friends and friends who don't care much about the topic one way or the other, and mostly we all get along pretty well.

I have to admit, though, that being a card-carrying atheist, I do have to indulge every so often in the dietary requirements as set forth in the official Atheist Code of Conduct.


Speaking of diet, I'm pretty far from a vegetarian, even when I'm not dining on babies.  In fact, I think that a medium-rare t-bone steak with a glass of good red wine is one of the most delicious things ever conceived by the human species.  But neither am I a chemical-lovin' pro-Monsanto corporate shill who drinks a nice steaming mug of RoundUp in the morning.  I'll stick with coffee, thanks.

Yes, I do accept climate change, because I am capable of reading and understanding a scientific paper and also do not think that because something is inconvenient to American economic expediency, it must not be true.  I'd rather that the US economy doesn't collapse, mainly because I live here, but I'd also like my grandchildren to be born on a planet that is habitable in the long term.

And finally: yes, I am white.  You got me there.  If I had any thought of denying it, it was put to rest when I did a 23 & Me test and found out that I'm... white.  My ancestry is nearly all from western Europe, unsurprising given that three of my grandparents were of French descent and one of Scottish descent.  But my being white doesn't mean that I always have to place the concerns of other white people first, or fear people who aren't white, or pass laws making sure that America stays white.  For one thing, it'd be a little hypocritical if I demanded that everyone in the US speak English, given that my mother and three of my grandparents spoke French as their first language; and trust me when I say that I would have loved my kids to learn Arabic in school.  The more other cultures you learn about in school, the better, largely because it's hard to hate people when you realize that they're human, just like you are.

So anyway.  Nice try telling me who I am, but you got a good many of the details wrong.  Inevitable, I suppose, when it's a self-portrait drawn by someone else.  Next time, maybe you should try engaging the people you disagree with in dialogue, rather than ridiculing, demeaning, dismissing, or condescending to them.  It's in general a nicer way to live, and who knows?  Maybe you'll learn something.

And if you want to know anything about me, just ask rather than making assumptions.  It's not like I'm shy about telling people what I think.  Kind of hiding in plain sight, here.

****************************************



Thursday, November 9, 2017

A self-portrait drawn by others

As you might imagine, I get hate mail pretty frequently.

Most of it has to do with my targeting somebody's sacred cow, be it homeopathy, fundamentalist religion, astrology, climate change denial, or actual sacred cows.  And it seems to fall into three general categories:
  • Insults, some of which never get beyond the "you stupid poopyhead fuckface" level.  These usually have the worst grammar and spelling.
  • Arguments that are meant to be stinging rebuttals.  They seldom are, at least not from the standpoint of adding anything of scientific merit to the conversation, although their authors inevitably think they've skewered me with the sharp rapier of their superior knowledge.  (Sometimes I get honest, thoughtful comments or criticisms on what I've written; I have always, and will always, welcome those.)
  • Diatribes that tell me what I actually believe, as if I'm somehow unaware of it.
I've gotten several of the latter in the last few weeks, and it's these that I want to address in this post, because they're the ones I find the most curious.  I've got a bit of a temper myself, so I can certainly understand the desire to strike back with an insult at someone who's angered you; and it's unsurprising that a person who is convinced of something will want to rebut anyone who says different.  But the idea that I'd tell someone I was arguing with what they believed, as if I knew it better than they did, is just plain weird.

Here are a handful of examples, from recent fan mail, to illustrate what I'm talking about:
  • In response to a post I did on the vitriolic nonsense spouted by televangelist Jim Bakker: "Atheists make me want to puke.  You have the nerve to attack a holy man like Jim Bakker.  You want to tear down the foundation of this country, which is it's [sic] churches and pastors, and tell Christian Americans they have no right to be here."
  • In response to my post on a group of alt-med wingnuts who are proposing drinking turpentine to cure damn near everything: "You like to make fun of people who believe nature knows best for curing us and promoting good health.  You pro-Monsanto, pro-chemical types think that the more processed something is, the better it is for you.  I bet you put weed killer on your cereal in the morning."
  • In response to the post in which I described a push by EPA chief Scott Pruitt to remove scientists from the EPA advisory board and replace them with corporate representatives: "Keep reading us your fairy tales about 'climate change' and 'rising sea levels.'  Your motives are clear, to destroy America's economy and hand over the reigns [sic] to the wacko vegetarian enviro nuts.  Now that we've got people in government who are actually looking out for AMERICAN interests, people like you are crapping your pants because you know your [sic] not in control any more."
  • And finally, in response to a post I did on the fact that the concept of race has little biological meaning: "You really don't get it, do you?  From your picture you're as white as I am, and you're gonna stand there and tell me that you have no problem being overrun by people who have different customs and don't speak English?  Let's see how you feel when your kid's teacher requires them to learn Arabic."
So, let's see.  That makes me a white English-only wacko vegetarian enviro nut (with crap in my pants) who eats weed killer for breakfast while writing checks to Monsanto and plotting how to tear down churches so I can destroy the United States.

Man, I've got a lot on my to-do list today.

I know it's a common tendency to want to attribute some set of horrible characteristics to the people we disagree with.  It engages all that tribal mentality stuff that's pretty deeply ingrained in our brains -- us = good, them = bad.  The problem is, reality is a hell of a lot more complex that that, and it's only seldom that you can find someone who is so bad that they have no admixture whatsoever of good, no justification for what they're doing, no explanation at all for how they got to be the way they are.  We're all mixed-up cauldrons of conflicting emotions.  It's hard to understand ourselves half the time; harder still to parse the motives of others.

So let me disabuse my detractors of a few notions.

While I'm not religious myself, I really have a live-and-let-live attitude toward religious folks, as long as they're not trying to impose their religion on others or using it as an excuse to deny others their rights as humans.  I have religious friends and non-religious friends and friends who don't care much about the topic one way or the other, and mostly we get along pretty well.

I have to admit, though, that being a card-carrying atheist, I do have to indulge every so often in the dietary requirements as set forth in the official Atheist Code of Conduct.


Speaking of diet, I'm pretty far from a vegetarian, even when I'm not dining on babies. In fact, I think that a medium-rare t-bone steak with a glass of good red wine is one of the most delicious things ever conceived by the human species.  But neither am I a chemical-lovin' pro-Monsanto corporate shill who drinks a nice steaming mug of RoundUp in the morning.  I'll stick with coffee, thanks.

Yes, I do accept climate change, because I am capable of reading and understanding a scientific paper and also do not think that because something is inconvenient to American economic expediency, it must not be true.  I'd rather that the US economy doesn't collapse, mainly because I live here, but I'd also like my grandchildren to be born on a planet that is habitable in the long term.

And finally: yes, I am white. You got me there.  If I had any thought of denying it, it was put to rest when I did a 23 & Me test and found out that I'm... white.  My ancestry is nearly all from western Europe, unsurprising given that three of my grandparents were of French descent and one of Scottish descent.  But my being white doesn't mean that I always have to place the concerns of other white people first, or fear people who aren't white, or pass laws making sure that America stays white.  For one thing, it'd be a little hypocritical if I demanded that everyone in the US speak English, given that my mother and three of my grandparents spoke French as their first language; and trust me when I say that I would have loved my kids to learn Arabic in school.  The more other cultures you learn about in school, the better, largely because it's hard to hate people when you realize that they're human, just like you are.

So anyway.  Nice try telling me who I am, but you got a good many of the details wrong.  Inevitable, I suppose, when it's a self-portrait drawn by someone else.  Next time, maybe you should try engaging the people you disagree with in dialogue, rather than ridiculing, demeaning, dismissing, or condescending to them.  It's in general a nicer way to live, and who knows?  Maybe you'll learn something.

And if you want to know anything about me, just ask rather than making assumptions.  It's not like I'm shy about telling people what I think.  Kind of hiding in plain sight, here.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Foxes, hedgehogs, and extreme politics

As if we needed anything to make us less confident about what goes on inside our skulls, an article in e! Science News appeared on Monday, entitled, "Extreme Political Attitudes May Stem From an Illusion of Understanding."

The study's principle author, Philip Fernbach of the University of Colorado, explained that the study came out of an observation that people who loudly expressed views on politics often seemed not to have much in the way of factual knowledge about the topic upon which they were expounding.

"We wanted to know how it's possible that people can maintain such strong positions on issues that are so complex -- such as macroeconomics, health care, foreign relations -- and yet seem to be so ill-informed about those issues,"  Fernbach said.

What the study did was to ask a group of test subjects to rate how well they understood six different political issues, including instituting merit pay for teachers, raising the age on Social Security, and enacting a flat tax.  The subjects then were asked to explain two of the policies, including their own position and why they held it, and were questioned on their understanding of facts of the policy by the researchers.  Afterwards, they were asked to re-rate their level of comprehension.

Across the board, self-assessment scores went down on the subjects they were asked to explain.  More importantly, their positions shifted -- there was a distinct movement toward the center that occurred regardless of the political affiliation of the participant.  Further, the worse the person's explanation had been -- i.e., the more their ignorance of the facts had been uncovered -- the further toward the center they shifted.

This seems to be further evidence for the Dunning-Kruger effect -- a bias in which people nearly always tend to overestimate their own knowledge and skill.  (It also brings to mind Dave Barry's comment, "Everyone thinks they're an above-average driver.")

I'm also reminded of Philip Tetlock's brilliant work Expert Political Judgment, which is summarized here but which anyone who is a student of politics or sociology should read in its entirety.  In the research for his book, he analyzed the political pronouncements of hundreds of individuals, evaluating the predictions of experts in a variety of fields to the actual outcome in the real world, and uses this information to draw some fascinating conclusions about human social behavior.  The relevant part of his argument, for our purposes here, is that humans exhibit two basic "cognitive styles," which he calls "the fox and the hedgehog" (the symbols come from a European folk tale).

Foxes, Tetlock says, tend to be able to see multiple viewpoints, and have a high tolerance for ambiguity (in the interest of conciseness, quotes are taken from the summary, not from the original book):
Experts who think in the 'Fox' cognitive style are suspicious of a commitment to any one way of seeing the issue, and prefer a loose insight that is nonetheless calibrated from many different perspectives.  They use quantification of uncertain events more as calibration, as a metaphor, than as a prediction.  They are tolerant of dissonance within a model - for example, that an 'enemy' regime might have redeeming qualities - and relatively ready to recalibrate their view when unexpected events cast doubt on what they had previously believed to be true.
Hedgehogs, on the other hand, like certainty, closure, and definite answers:
In contrast to this, Hedgehogs work hard to exclude dissonance from their models. They prefer to treat events which contradict their expectations as exceptions, and to re-interpret events in such a way as to allocate exceptions to external events. For example, positive aspects of an enemy regime may be assigned to propaganda, either on the part of the regime or through its sympathizers...  Hedgehogs tend to flourish and excel in environments in which uncertainty and ambiguity have been excluded, either by actual or artificial means. The mantra of "targets and accountability" was made by and for Hedgehogs.
The differences, Tetlock said, are irrespective of political leaning; there are conservative and liberal foxes, and conservative and liberal hedgehogs.  But, most importantly, the foxes' tolerance of many viewpoints, and awareness of their own ignorance, gives them the appearance of knowing less than they actually do, and lessens their influence on policy and society; and the hedgehogs' certainty, and clear, concise answers to complex problems, gives them the appearance of knowing more than they actually do, and increases their influence.

Hedgehogs, Tetlock found, were more often wrong in their assessment of political situations, but their views achieved wide impact.  Foxes were more often right -- but no one listened.

So, anyway, I read all of this with a vague sense of unease.  Having a blog, after all, implies some level of arrogance -- that you believe your views to be important, intelligent, and interesting enough that people, many of them total strangers, will want to read what you have to say.  Given Fernbach's study, not to mention the Dunning-Kruger effect and the conclusion of Tetlock's research, it does leave me with a bit of a chill.  Would my views on topics become less extreme if I were forced to reconsider the facts of the situation?  Do I really think I'm more knowledgeable than I actually am?  Worst of all (for a blogger), am I a simplistic thinker that is often wrong but whose views have wide social impact, or a complex thinker that no one pays attention to?

Oy.  I'm not sure I, um, want to reevaluate all this.  I think I'll just go have breakfast.  That sounds like a definitive solution to the problem, right?

Of course right.