cynicism, philosophy

Why we believe utter crap

Are we doomed to believe things that are demonstrably false?

Brendan Nyhan (Dukie!) has devoted much of his career to fighting falsehoods, and he is depressed by a three-year study he conducted to try change beliefs on vaccination:

The first leaflet—focussed on a lack of evidence connecting vaccines and autism—seemed to reduce misperceptions about the link, but it did nothing to affect intentions to vaccinate. It even decreased intent among parents who held the most negative attitudes toward vaccines, a phenomenon known as the backfire effect.

Oh dear. That’s not good.

The theory is that one’s sense of self is threatened if you’re confronted with the idea that you’re wrong. So here’s the clever but difficult solution: Make people believe they’ve arrived at the correct answer on their own.

Here, Nyhan decided to apply it in an unrelated context: Could recalling a time when you felt good about yourself make you more broad-minded about highly politicized issues, like the Iraq surge or global warming? As it turns out, it would. On all issues, attitudes became more accurate with self-affirmation, and remained just as inaccurate without.

So yelling at people that “the grownups are talking” might not work.

At least, not immediately. But I’m a little more optimistic than that. From my own experience, I can think of things I used to argue that I now know to be false — creationism, the infinite superiority of prog rock to pop music, etc. — and I can see how my beliefs changed not in one argument but over a period of time.

And experience forces us to change as well. I recently chatted with a high school friend who worries that I’ve been corrupted by being around all these media and government types. Not so, I said. I’m the same person I was in high school. But my experiences have changed me.

It’s simple common sense. If you’ve never met any Muslims or gay people, you’re more likely to harbor prejudice than you are after you meet them. If you’ve never seen any hard-working poor people, it’s easier to scapegoat them as lazy leeches. If you’ve never met any charitable Christians, it’s easy to stereotype them based on the snake-oil salesmen who dominate the airwaves.

But are some people hard-wired to resist such change? That’s what this piece on right-wing thought and “psychological origins of political ideology argues.

Again and again, when they take the widely accepted Big Five personality traits test, liberals tend to score higher on one of the five major dimensions—openness: the desire to explore, to try new things, to meet new people—and conservatives score higher on conscientiousness: the desire for order, structure, and stability.

I’m still skeptical. I know too many “liberals” who like “order, structure and stability” — that’s what Europe’s socialized programs offer, after all.

But I do firmly believe people are ingrained with certain fears. And today’s propagandists are all too good at exploiting them. That’s why people believe their freedoms are being taken away by the slightest measure of gun control. Or that Putin is going to go marching through Europe after he gobbles up Ukraine. Or that “genetic modification” is going to turn their produce into radioactive carcinogens.

So I think the next level of research is this: How do you counter propaganda? Censoring Fox News and Jenny McCarthy won’t do it. It has to be something that works to assuage those fears.

Update: I checked out Brendan Nyhan’s Twitter feed and found something I had to add:

https://twitter.com/chriscmooney/status/468765310070173697

But the evidence suggests the Tea Party, like my ninth-grade belief in creationism, is burning itself out.

cynicism, journalism, politics

More information /= more facts?

Your Monday morning downer from fellow Dukie (grad school, anyway) Brendan Nyhan:

“In journalism, in health [and] in education we tend to take the attitude that more information is better, and so there’s been an assumption that if we put the correct information out there, the facts will prevail,” Nyhan says. “Unfortunately, that’s not always true.”

via The Death Of Facts In An Age Of ‘Truthiness’ : NPR.

journalism

Why Wikipedia skeptics need to get with the times

The jokes have been predictable today. “Oh no,” your neighborhood Web comic says. “Wikipedia has gone dark! Where will I find my erroneous information?”

(Please don’t write me to claim this joke. It’s not original. There are, as Mike said on The Young Ones, as-yet-undiscovered tribes in the heart of the Peruvian jungle who knew you were going to say that. (That’s not a SOPA violation, is it?))

Aside from the lazy comics, I’ve also seen snide comments from journalists. “Oh, you don’t really use that site, do you?”

Yes, I do. Every day. Multiple times per day. I have a shortcut set up in Chrome so that I can type “wp (whatever)” and instantly get to whatever I’m seeking.

Oh, but anyone can change Wikipedia! I can make it say Bill Clinton is a duck!

Yes, you can. And in the few seconds before someone else changes Wikipedia, perhaps a couple of idiots will see that and think the United States was governed by something that quacks. They may even wonder how a duck can be involved in a sex scandal.

Here’s the thing — if you read something that sounds fishy on Wikipedia, it’s quite easy to check it out.  Good Wikipedia editors often include links to their sources.

So why not go to the original source?

If you know exactly what you need, and you just need to confirm it with a reputable source, great. But what if you don’t know what you need? Suppose you’ve been asked to write about someone and you don’t even know where to begin.

Let’s say you’ve been assigned to write about Ole Einar Bjorndalen. Not being European or me, you don’t know who he is.

Off to Wikipedia, where you can quickly discern the following …

  1. He has won nine Olympic medals in biathlon.
  2. He swept the biathlon gold medals in Salt Lake City 2002.
  3. He also won a cross-country skiing World Cup race.
  4. He married another biathlete.
  5. In 2006, he tested a new ski boot.
  6. He doesn’t seem to be doing quite as well this year as he has in the past.

Is your story done? Of course not. Do you have a general idea of who he is? Yes. Do you have specific facts, such as specific numbers of medals and so forth, that you can quickly verify by following a couple of links? Yes. You also have a couple of story ideas — a new ski boot and what appears to be a decline this season.

You could even click on “biathlon” and try to get a general sense of the sport and its history. You might even learn that it’s staggeringly popular in Germany. Or that it has roots in military exercises.

What would you have done before Wikipedia? You probably would’ve asked around of your buddies. “Hey, have you heard of a guy named Bjorg … Bjornday … he’s a bitrathlete or something?” And then you would’ve eventually found someone who thinks he remembers that he won a bunch of medals or something.

And that’s sooooooo much better than checking with Wikipedia.

Basically, Wikipedia is just the same thing as asking around of your friends. Except that your “friends” are millions and millions of people with a collective expertise in almost everything.

But by all means … ignore all that. You’re a journalist, after all. You already know it all, right?