Confirmation Bias – Inherent, but not Destiny

Confirmation Bias – Inherent, but not Destiny

Michael Johnson was a disturbing choice for the next Speaker of the House of Representatives. In a political battle between MAGA loyalists and the moderates of the Republican Party, the Louisiana Congressman appeared as the former. He had advocated for the lie that Trump won the 2020 election. He also promoted a new surge of right-wing isolationism, withdrawing support for global allies and democracies. As for his personal views, his practice of Christian faith comes from an evangelicalism steeped in tribalism and arrogance, making for an absolution of his opinions. With his ascension, the far-right appeared to gain a greater foothold in American politics.

Despite his record, Johnson achieved something to my surprise and admiration: A change of heart. He led the charge in Congress passing continuing financial support to Ukraine, along with other initiatives in foreign policy. The New York Times reported that Johnson had listened to military leaders and policy experts on the consequences of a Russian takeover of Ukraine. He reassessed his views of the war, and he came to a new conclusion on how to proceed. The funding was a reversal of his position, defying those who pushed his promotion, and perhaps changing the course of world history. The hawkish traditions of the Republican Party had another day in the sun, and the U.S. would continue an active defense against Russian aggressions.

It was inspiring to learn that Johnson changed his mind based on evidence – an act seldom seen from leaders and constituents alike. Johnathan Haidt, in The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion, notes that most people practice the logical fallacy of Confirmation Bias. It’s the act of forming an opinion and then only seeking evidence confirming the opinion, ignoring all that contradict it. Haidt describes this as not just one of many fallacies flaring up on occasion, but a routine of the mind as regular as involuntary functions of the body. It’s the default mode of human brains as people seek to affirm what they had already believed. This pushes us down the path of political tribalism, whether it’s binging on Fox News or avoiding certain chats with neighbors. Johnson took the harder path of the mind, and it was refreshing to see.

Johnson’s leadership was also surprising as we’re prone to believe people don’t change their minds. Entrenchment in our political views is a standard practice, let alone for a Congressman with a base constituency to answer to. Still, Johnson appeared to have a humility and re-evaluation of life, like Ebenezer Scrooge sharing his wealth on Christmas morning. The lessons a person learns from their parents, peers, or religion will create a worldview that’s hard to crack. The confirmation of their views then becomes a life-long practice, cementing their beliefs further and further. It’s easy to assume this will be true of everyone, and yet no one would have thought Michael Johnson would lead Congress to invest tens of billions of dollars in Ukraine. So maybe it’s not quite so impossible for a person to change their mind.

At the same time, we shouldn’t make light of the difficulties in persuading others. Whether it’s pro-life extremists or Black Lives Matter, we shouldn’t have our hearts set on convincing anyone of anything. The forces that brought a person to their current views are powerful, and you’ll have your work cut out for you when proselytizing. To persuade requires the recipient to have humility – to listen and reassess their opinions in good faith. There’s a reason that Michael Johnson will strike us as a political unicorn. It’s a tall order to do as he did, and your brilliance to persuade may not be as strong as you think.

Not only is it hard to change someone’s mind, but society might see their change as a negative trait. Modern America uses the term waffling to describe a politician changing their previous position. To many, waffling shows weakness. It means the person’s convictions are flimsy, either from fear of others’ opinions or a lack of commitment. Radio host Rush Limbaugh preached this by attacking independent voters, describing them as indecisive wimps. What more do you need to know, he’d say. Pick a side! To Limbaugh, sitting on the fence was almost as repugnant as holding the views of the Democratic Party. It’s a dangerous road for politicians to waffle in their views. The public may see their flipping as weak-willed at best, and deceptive at worst.

Despite the stigma of changing one’s mind, we should see the practice of self-reflection as a strength of character. Imagine someone you know, stalwart in their opinions, stopping themselves to make a mindful reassessment of the world. With humility, they recognize they might be wrong, and they reconsider things with the evidence at hand. These are admirable qualities to carry in life, with nothing to apologize for. The supposed waffler is pushing aside a lifetime of biases that have steered their thoughts, analyzing a situation without the biases. To do this and reach a different conclusion is not a sign of weakness, but of mental discipline and fortitude. Granted, we should be skeptical of politicians who reverse their previously-professed views – e.g., Kamala Harris from the 2020 presidential primaries, or J.D. Vance’s views of Trump in 2024 vs. 2016. Still, the world is a better place when someone has the traits of analysis and humility to guide their judgements.

Let’s also keep in mind that the ability to change one’s opinions may be a little more common than we think. Consider historical examples of the American public coming to change its views on a given issue. Abolitionism in the 19th century. Opposition to the Vietnam War in the 20th century, and support for the legalization of gay marriage in the 21st. Women’s suffrage. Support for interracial marriage. The Affordable Care Act (Obamacare), and the legalization of marijuana. In the darkest moments of any political movement, few will think it possible for a sea change of public opinion to occur, but it has happened before. People just like us were presented with new facts and evidence, and some changed their minds. It can take a monumental work of arguments and interactions for the changes to take place. But it’s possible.

As a small example for myself, I’ve been reconsidering the morality of state lotteries. I have a libertarian streak that tells me to let people live as they please. It’s their choice to be stupid with money, and if they want to waste what they have on lottery tickets, then it’s their prerogative. Besides, the funds from lotteries are a healthy boom to state funds and college students. As a fiscal hawk, I love to see different ways for the state to actually pay for its services. Still, do we want our governments to have programs that lure the poor into give their money away? Is it right to have people in poverty funding the educations of higher classes? I have wrestled with these questions of late. It now feels repugnant to live in a society that promotes such a transfer of wealth, and I shouldn’t have to apologize to libertarians for changing my views about it.

So if I can bend my mind against a lifetime of ideological instinct, then others can too. It’s not to say it’s easy, and it’s unwise to assume the virtue of humility resides with others in our spheres. But it’s not impossible either. Michael Johnson proved it in Congress, and the American public has proved it in time. Confirmation Bias is inherent in our being, but it’s not destiny. Analysis and self-reflection are valuable skills that the world needs. Let us have hope that better angels can wake us up to the faults of our thinking, pushing us to reassess the thoughts we’ve always held dear.

Maid: Hard Work, Low Pay, and a Mother’s Will to Survive

 

Stefanie Land, author of Maid: Hard Work, Low Pay, and a Mother’s Will to Survive, wrote a small section of the book that had gotten under my skin. She questioned the value of charitable acts, and it was an offensive suggestion to me. Still, I couldn’t deny how much I enjoyed the book. Land brings an anecdotal light to the daunting challenges of American poverty – the excruciating work, and the obstacles of government help with a culture that looked down her. With further reflection, Land’s opinions became understandable to me, even if I couldn’t agree with her view on charity.* 

Land begins a chapter by describing the faith-based charity work she was part of in her middle-class upbringing. The family had shared Christmas gifts with strangers while sharing the gospel in some way. Land then brings us to her future as a single mom, now receiving similar charities. “Now I’d be opening the door, accepting charity. Accepting that I couldn’t provide for my family. Accepting their small token – a new pair of gloves, a toy – in their impulse to feel good. But there wasn’t any way to put ‘health care’ or ‘child care’ on a list.” 

Land seems to render charity as useless, and that people do it only for a sense of pleasure. I read these words as someone from a family who for years set up events to feed the homeless through church. Every Thanksgiving, my father led a team in making 20 turkeys for the community before coming home to make our own. For myself, I had been part of mission projects in college, having hope that my exchanges about faith would help bring a better world. Such memories made me take offense to Land’s comment. Should we have not done these things? Why bother giving then if it doesn’t solve the world’s problems? What’s the point? Land’s words came across to me as simply bitter, and to imply that my inspirations came from a kind of selfishness felt insulting.

It also seemed like her words had a political message rearing its head. We often read about health care and child care as we doom-scroll through headlines. Politicians also speak of these issues with a righteous proselytizing. If you don’t agree with me, you’re awful and don’t care about people. With these things in the back of my mind, I took Land to be saying the same thing. No one would have to do charity if we just voted the right way, or so I interpreted. My internal radar was set to detect such attacks, and it raised further offense in me. I wasn’t looking for a lecture, but it seemed like I was receiving one.

As I re-read the chapter, I was surprised that I had had no recollection of the rest of the chapter. Land goes on to describe her various struggles in adulthood. She fought for custody of her daughter from a verbally abusive father, and we learn of her hardships in finding affordable housing. The constant stress from her hardships, I could only imagine. And yet, the only thing I had previously remembered from the chapter was the “offensive” intro. Once I became offended, I had stopped paying attention to anything else. I had read the rest of the words, but they were not the focus of my attention.

In my second reading, it also struck me as odd for Land to combine her childhood charity stories with her future stories of hardship. Then it hit me: She once had security, but it was lost in adulthood. This would be a severe loss for anyone in their lives, not to be taken lightly. In her case, the father of her child, who should have been supportive for his new family, instead became a nightmare. Her society also wouldn’t be much help to her getting on her feet, financially and emotionally. Between the court battles and a culture that says to pull yourself up by the bootstraps, Land must have felt continual heartache and abandonment.

With all of this in mind, let’s now picture a middle-class family coming to her impoverished door with a pair of gloves for an offering. Regardless of the family’s intentions, the gift for her was impersonal and impractical. For Land, Christmas toys wouldn’t keep the heat on, and gloves wouldn’t provide day care while trudging to the next awful cleaning job. Even more than this though, the charity came to highlight her inability to provide for her family. It created a bruised ego with guilt and despair not far behind. These are understandable reactions to the offer. Really, who wouldn’t feel bitterness in living her life? I could now see Land’s point of view in an enlightening way, making the feelings of offense drift into dust.

Now this is the part where some would counter my newfound sympathies by highlighting the role Land played in her own story. Yes, she had put herself at the risk of having a child with an unreliable man. It was a precarious position, and one that would steer almost any of us toward financial distress. We can’t escape the reality of our choices, but I resolve that they shouldn’t decide how we think of a person in the present. We shouldn’t dismiss Land’s suffering over an unwise decision from the past. This leads to the arrogance that Land writes of when noting hecklers watching her pay for groceries with food stamps.** Judgements came against her for life as a single mom, and we should see how we can condemn others, in thoughts if not words.

With a renewed empathy for Land, I came to feel sympathy for her while still disagreeing about charity. Families and society should practice charitable giving, no matter the ratio of the gifts to the full needs of recipients. If we stopped thinking of charity as helpful, then the world would be left without the many billions of dollars it receives in the name of good will. Also, it seems we would go backwards in our mindfulness of the poor if we thought of giving as useless. We would think of others even less as we throw up our hands and shrug at the fruitlessness charity offers. It’s a scary notion, perhaps dividing classes even further. And in the end, we can’t predict the fruits that come from charity. Loving relationships can and do develop from the act, and there is genuine help from even the smaller gifts. When a family gives, the practice can become instilled in the minds of our children, and we shouldn’t dismiss these efforts.

As far as the notion that givers are fulfilling an “impulse to feel good”, we shouldn’t think of these feelings in a cynical way. Charitable acts can be both sacrificial and pleasurable. When someone answers a thank you with “It was my pleasure,” it confirms a sense of reward that comes from the act being done. Taking satisfaction from charity doesn’t take away from the moral goodness of doing it. In all cases, there was an expense for the giver, both in terms of money and the time and attention taken to give it. With this, people can be happy and sacrificial at the same time. The pleasure simply comes from the human recognition of goodness and justice being fulfilled, and this isn’t something to criticize.

All of this being said, I find myself now having a peaceful balance of understanding and disagreement with Stephanie Land. Before reading Maid, I had read two books on American poverty by Matthew Desmond. Readers find a world where people choose between basic needs, suffer the psychological stress of bad living conditions, and face obstacles requiring herculean efforts to escape. In Land’s case, she suffered through continual physical pain as a maid while being a ghost in affluent homes, with the health of her car being pivotal to the family’s survival. We should be happy for her escape from that life***, and we can understand her point of view without a disagreement dominating our perceptions. With this, I look forward to reading her sequel.

 

 

*This even assumes that I’m interpreting Land’s opinions correctly. I’m taking them from just a couple pages of work, and so flushing out her views with dialogue would be helpful.  

**Land notes the sarcastic words of “You’re Welcome” from the hecklers, saying their taxes paid for her food stamps. I’ve never understood why this should make someone so angry. Tax revenue for poverty programs would, I imagine, only equate to a few cents from a family’s checkbook. Is the heckler really so burdened in life by the shopper needing the food stamps? It seems more likely that the heckler’s anger comes from feelings of righteousness over the shopper. Besides, if the cents go to feeding families in need, then it seems there’s far worse things the government can (and does) use with tax revenue.

 ***Again, it’s a presumption, but I assume someone whose bestselling book led to the creation of a Netflix series has been able to climb out of poverty.

The Popularity Argument

 

There’s an argument Donald Trump brought to center stage in the 2016 election: The less his opponent’s popularity, the less we should take them seriously. In a primary debate, a Telemundo journalist asked a question on immigration, and Trump dismissed her by claiming drops in her company’s ratings. I was taken back by the response. It seemed a cruel way for a politician to answer, and reporters would feel the same wrath in the days ahead. In time, the argument seemed to become mainstream, at least in conservative circles. Others would imitate the fallacy, helping to bring discourse to new lows in peace and productivity.

 

There’s a part of me that wonders if the popularity argument has merit. If the public leaves a media company in droves, doesn’t it reveal a heavy bias that people should run away from? If a pundit fails to gain viewers after years of work, doesn’t it speak to their work? There’s a reason we’re drawn to the caption of New York Times Bestseller, and I’d be lying if I said I never dismissed a news clip or article with this in mind. It’s an argument that many take seriously, and it’s an easy way to dismiss someone who challenges your views.

 

Despite its appeal, we need to recognize that the popularity argument is a fallacy. It avoids addressing the subject at hand, distracting us with suspicions of bias and bad motives from the speaker. Whatever the reasons for the alleged drop in Telemundo ratings, the topic was the potential harm to immigrants by a future Trump administration, and this became lost in the minds of viewers. In debate classes, we learn that high popularity does not make an opinion correct. By extension, claiming an argument is bad because of low support commits the same logical crime. The fallacy deters us from tackling a question, and in a mean-spirited way.

 

Just like an Ad Hominem attack, the popularity argument can be a cruel course to take as we look down on others with contempt. Matt Walsh, a conservative commentator for The Daily Wire, is someone who uses the fallacy with enthusiasm. To be sure, Walsh will address the subject at hand, and his debate skills shouldn’t be underestimated. But he’ll poke at his opponents with insults, and among them claims that no one watches them. Therefore, we shouldn’t listen to them. If they don’t have a high enough audience (whatever this is supposed to be), then there must be something wrong with what they’re saying. It’s a tool that helps Walsh, Trump, or any like them to see themselves as winning the argument, owning the libs, and walking away with self-satisfying grins.

 

An absurd example of Walsh doing this is from a segment he did on transgenderism. On The Matt Walsh Show, he addressed the arguments that the pundit John Oliver had made on the need for transition medical care. Walsh threw his first punch by claiming Oliver’s show – Last Week Tonight with John Oliver – isn’t popular. He called it a “little-watched” show that followed The Daily Show – an even less popular one, according to him. In reality though, Matt Walsh has 2.85 million Youtube viewers, vs. 9.37 million for John Oliver. As someone who watched both shows, I knew of the imbalance, and so it was unbelievable that Walsh would attack Oliver in this way. Does he not know how much more popular Oliver is, I thought. Did he bother to look it up? It seemed that Walsh was either lying to an audience that would never look up John Oliver, or he was too careless or arrogant to bother looking it up.

 

Setting aside the falseness of his attack on Oliver, let’s follow the logic of Matt Walsh. With his greater popularity, shouldn’t I take John Oliver more seriously than Matt Walsh? After all, the side with less viewers can’t know what they’re talking about, right? With this, it won’t matter what the evidence is on the benefits and harms of gender-affirming care. The proof is in the number of viewers, or so we’re being told. The argument is an easy way to dismiss and dodge an argument. It is its own kind of Ad Hominem attack, as the merit of the one who raises the question becomes the question. It’s a fallacy that societies should call out, both in our minds and in public discourse.

 

There’s also a funny irony to me when seeing Matt Walsh make fun of others for a lack of viewership. I followed a blog that Walsh wrote before he became famous for The Daily Wire and the documentary What Is a Woman.* In other words, I knew Matt Walsh’s work when he was a nobody. Does this mean he didn’t have anything enlightening to say? Should I have not read his blog? He tells us in so many words to ignore people with few readers, but this means he himself wasn’t worth my time or attention. And even today, John Oliver and others are ahead of him in popularity. So no matter what good sense or strong points Walsh might ever made on current events, who cares. Just look at metrics like the number social media views, and we’re told that’s what matters.

 

All of this demonstrates the futility and absurdity of the popularity argument. Any pundit is a newcomer at some point, and everyone has to start from somewhere. This shouldn’t take away from the content they have to share with the world. And as for media outlets dropping in ratings, even if true, it shouldn’t matter for the argument, and to bring it up is to avoid the discussion. Yes, we should have some skepticism for a source well-known for bias, and this should inspire us to look further for truth on a subject. But those like Donald Trump take this healthy idea to a dark place for their own purposes. If the Trump administration had intended harsh restrictions and punishments on immigrants, then no one should care about the ratings of Telemundo. We should address the question head on, and we should recognize what the former president was doing.

 

If we can’t move beyond the attacks on a person’s popularity, then we should recognize the irrelevance. I can imagine hateful websites having millions of views while start-up writers make sound points on a subject. Should fame make the difference in who to believe? Donald Trump is mean-hearted in a variety of ways, and many have been inspired to follow his tactics. It’s sad to watch as contempt swells within us, and the pursuit of truth is taken off the rails. Recognizing the fallacy for what it is would be a step forward, both in our personal lives and in public discourse.

 

 

*I was disappointed when Walsh moved on to national media. He always seemed to be a better writer than public speaker, though he improved at the latter with time.

The Cancelling of the American Mind

The Cancelling of the American Mind

On occasion, I’ll watch political commentators refer to The Coddling of the American Mind, and it always brings a smile to my face. Johnathan Heidt and Greg Lukianoff share enlightening causes for the frail minds of young generations, and in 2023, Lukianoff joined Rikki Schlott with a follow-up book: The Cancelling of the American Mind. It’s an impressive summary of modern cancel culture, laying out the fallacious arguments that different sides make to attack or persecute others for their opinions. I was riveted by this sequel, and sorrowful for how active listening is destroyed by the sensitivities of the present day.

There were several thoughts from The Cancelling of the American Mind that I hope stay with me:

  1. There’s an idea I like to keep in mind when thinking about a political event: If one side does something distasteful, then rest assured, the other side is probably doing the same thing. The Cancelling of the American Mind reminded me of this principal. While it wasn’t surprising to read of left-wing activists acting like bullies, the authors noted similar actions by conservatives. This is in the form of state legislatures controlling expression in college curriculums, creating an atmosphere that discourages instructors from sharing opinions. This form of censorship appears even worse than the shout-downs of protesters, since legislators are using the power of the state for their own version of bullying. To limit what teachers can teach adults is too censoring for comfort, and the laws ought to be challenged in courts and public opinion.
  1. The Cancelling of the American Mind has made me reconsider my opinions on banning books in public schools. When I’ve heard of districts prohibiting certain books, like graphic novels or LGBTQ literature, I’ve felt little concern. After all, we limit access to media all the time based on the concerns of age-appropriateness. Also, it’s not like these books are being banned from publication or sales. They’re simply not allowed on K-12 school grounds, where age brings special consideration. Still, Lukianoff and Schlott argue that the restrictions represent a cultural assault on free expression. If we hold free speech to be essential for society, then restricting books in public institutions might say otherwise. I’m not sure if I’ve changed my mind on this, as I’d still rather not see pornographic materials or graphic fiction in junior high libraries. But it’s something to ponder.
  1. As a science-fiction fan, this opinion was too quirky to not share. Quoting an article that criticized progressive organizations’ use of the acronym J.E.D.I. – Justice, Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion: “Although there are… heroes within the Star Wars universe, the Jedi are inappropriate symbols for justice work. They’re a religious order of intergalactic police monks prone to white saviorism and toxically masculine approaches to conflict resolution. Violent duels with… lightsabers, gaslighting by means of Jedi mind tricks, etc.”

               My reactions to this:

                     a. I wonder what Samuel L. Jackson would say about it.

                     b. Though ridiculous, this kind of opinion reminds me that I should still try to understand the                                     perspective of the person who wrote it, though doing so here would take us off track.

                     c. The fact that some even use J.E.D.I. for the promotion of progressive causes feels a little                                         silly. Though I guess the leap from the acronym E.D.I. to J.E.D.I. is an easy one.

  1. Lukianoff and Schlott describe an array of fallacies the left and right use to de-legitimize other arguments. If you’re the wrong sex or race for raising an opinion, then we disregard sizable parts of the whole population. On the other hand, if you’re a liberal, academic, or scientist, then conservatives may think that anything you have to say is too steeped in bias to be insightful. In either case, we dismiss others’ thoughts, deeming the person ignorant or malevolent.

With this in mind, my biggest takeaway from the book was seeing the many ways people will dismiss each other in life. We’ll think of people with a certain level of contempt for their views, believing they have nothing useful to share with the world. To think of others this way is a moral failing, but also an intellectual one as we don’t listen to what someone has to say. Anyone, from the avid Trump supporter to the activist who thinks too much about Star Wars, can still have a point worth sharing. We should confront societal pressures that silence their speech, and we should confront the fallacies that motivate us to do so.