The wrong
conclusion? The nobel laureate Daniel Kahneman has shown how our thinking lets
us down. But we can behave differently.
We are
getting smarter, aren't we? Or perhaps not. In a speech at the London Library,
the novelist Sebastian Faulks expressed dismay at the collapse of knowledge in
young people; and in my own life I don't see much evidence of the improvement.
Each morning starts with my dropping an egg into boiling water and neglecting
to note the time, so I end up with a hard boiled or runny egg. The kettle
steams up my glasses, if I have remembered to bring them down to read the
newspapers. The toast burns two out of seven mornings and the fire alarm goes
off maybe once a week. Instead of reading the article that is useful to me, my
mind wanders off on one of its pointless excursions.
I am
prisoner of idiotic and clumsy habits, the worst of which is the faith, renewed
with each night's sleep, that I can time the egg by instinct. My life is full
of ludicrous self-confidence; for example, that this article will take one
hour, rather than four, to write; that the fuel in my petrol tank will expand
according to my need; that butter will not make me fat and that trains and
planes are flexible in their departure times.
This is
fine because I am not running a government or a bank. But look at the collapse
of HBOS, and you will realise that the same stupid habits and hopeless optimism
filled the heads of Lord Stevenson, former chairman of the bank, James Crosby,
its megalomaniac former chief executive and his successor Andy Hornby. They
weren't merely rash and greedy; they were stupid, because they ignored one of
their own experts, Paul Moore, who warned about the risks that led to a bailout
of £20bn and their own richly deserved humiliation.
An
organisation that succumbs to this kind of failure suffers from
"functional stupidity", a syndrome that requires such individuals as
Mr Moore, who was fired from his job and eventually testified about HBOS to
parliament, to stifle their criticisms and go along with the groupthink of
powerful individuals. The same functional stupidity gripped the Blair and Bush
governments as they went to war with a country that was not conceivably
involved in the 9/11 attacks, and the groups of climate-change deniers who, for
self-serving reasons or personality-driven prejudice, determine that all the
evidence of a warming planet is cooked up by fantasists.
We are dumb
beyond words in making the connection between our behaviour and well-understood
outcomes – the links between smoking and cancer, fatty foods and obesity,
driving fast and death on the roads, impulse buying and going broke, gossipy
tweets and losing friends and esteem. We know the likely results but we are
convinced we can defy norms with impunity, while denying ourselves nothing but
the truth.
The
literature on our stupidity seems to expand by the day. Every book on
neuroscience and the choices we make seems to underline the reality that we are
not in control, that "the two biological bags of fluid" as David
Eagleman describes our brain in his book Incognito, are hard-wired for
stupidity, or at least the triumph of emotional over rational systems.
Jonathan
Haidt's book The Righteous Mind, an exploration of the psychological reasons
for political and religious divisions, denies the existence of the effective
force for good and sensible outcomes that we call reason. "Anyone who
values truth," he writes, "should stop worshipping reason" in
the social context, because it evolved not to help us find the truth of a
matter, but to aid "argument, persuasion and manipulation".
The
scientific thinking does force us to come to terms with the limitations of the
two sacks of fluid. Research by the Nobel laureate Daniel Kahneman in Thinking,
Fast and Slow shows that we are given to all sorts of short cuts that lead us
to the wrong conclusion. He divides the mind, like many others before him, into
two systems – one that operates automatically and quickly, with little effort
and no voluntary control; the other that allocates attention to mental tasks
and requires a high degree of effort. System one frequently suggests solutions
that are not always right, but have a ring of truth about them. Greater
knowledge of the way we think is a good thing, yet the reductionism seems to
ignore the dazzling chambers of the human mind, which produced the first art in
Europe 30,000 years ago, the Antikythera mechanism, the world's first computer,
2,100 years ago and today performs extraordinary feats of reasoning about the
nature of the subatomic world and space-time.
The human
brain is one of the most awesome objects in the known universe and the
evidence, despite everything, is that we are getting smarter. For a start, the
number of highly intelligent people alive is far greater than at any time in
human history. If we take population growth since the second world war, we can
assume that number of gifted individuals has risen proportionately, from
roughly 2 million to 6 million – which, incidentally, happens to be the estimated
total human population of the world at the end of the last ice age. We live in
a more complicated world, which undoubtedly requires the brain to make more
connections at greater speed. And potentially we have unlimited access to the
sum of the world's knowledge at our fingertips.
The last
doesn't necessarily make us brighter, but nor does it make us dimmer. Faulks's
speech suggested that our children's generation would "capture" and
remember far less than ours and that this was a kind of catastrophe for civilisation.
I don't know what evidence my old schoolfriend has, but it seems obvious that
the function of memory is being partly outsourced to the internet – what's the
problem with that? – and that the web generation is going to make great leaps
of understanding because of the new connectedness of human imagination and
endeavour. They are operating in interestingly new ways.
Research
suggests global average IQ is rising, but how do we reconcile that with our
persistent stupidity, unnecessary wars, damaging inequality and denial of
probable catastrophe? What hope is there for humanity if the lazy,
self-serving, toast-burning creature of system one cannot change?
The answer,
surprisingly, comes from Tony Blair who said when he was being recommended an
employee because of their high intelligence, "But does he have good
judgment?" After shouting "And well he might", it's worth noting
that for intelligence to exist, stupidity must be vanquished. That requires
judgment, the presence of the other voice in the boardroom or in your head that
identifies dumb solutions and customary stupidity. And the good news is that
habit can be taught. It will have to be if we are to survive.
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