The Chesterton’s Fence argument is about knowing the purpose of something and being able to understand the consequences of changing it. With older traditions both are harder.
This is turning the argument on its head.
The point isn’t that knowing a purpose for something is a reason to keep the thing. If we know the reason for it and judge it good, of course we shall keep it. Banal. If we know a reason for a thing, and judge it bad, then the argument isn’t an encouragement to keep it either. No Chesterton’s Fence is the argument that us not knowing the reason behind something is a reason to keep it. Applying it to things, for which we easily learn why they are there, is pretty much redundant as far as heuristics go.
Let me quite directly, from his novel The Thing (1929). In the chapter entitled, “The Drift from Domesticity” he writes:
In the matter of reforming things, as distinct from deforming them, there is one plain and simple principle; a principle which will probably be called a paradox. There exists in such a case a certain institution or law; let us say, for the sake of simplicity, a fence or gate erected across a road. The more modern type of reformer goes gaily up to it and says, “I don’t see the use of this; let us clear it away.” To which the more intelligent type of reformer will do well to answer: “If you don’t see the use of it, I certainly won’t let you clear it away. Go away and think. Then, when you can come back and tell me that you do see the use of it, I may allow you to destroy it.”
What you say here is reasonable, but it is completely unrelated to your comment that started this thread. If, as in your original comment, people are mistaken about the age of their traditions, they are ignorant of the origins, and thus Chesterton advice to learn the origin applies.
This isn’t directly related to that argument no, like I said I would need an essay to explain that (and I’ve started writing one), I was correcting a misreading of the classical Cheston’s fence.
Chesterton’s Fence is the argument that us not knowing the reason behind something is a reason to keep it.
Kinda. I actually read it as an argument for passivity unless you know what you’re doing.
Not knowing the reason for something is a “reason to keep it”—well, it’s a reason to not do anything. If that something gets destroyed by, say, a force of nature, would Chesterton’s Fence tell you to rebuild it? No, I don’ think so.
The Chesteron’s Fence is primarily a warning against hubris, against pretending to contain all the reasons of the world in your head. It is, basically, an entreaty to consider unknown unknowns, especially if you have evidence of their workings in front of you.
Not knowing the reason for something is a “reason to keep it”—well, it’s a reason to not do anything. If that something gets destroyed by, say, a force of nature, would Chesterton’s Fence tell you to rebuild it? No, I don’ think so.
Force of nature is misleading in the context of where it is likely to be applied. No social norms or institutions subsist without maintenance. But let me keep it and tweak it a bit, if you could easily prevent the force of nature destroying the fence, would you say the argument encourages you to do so?
Chesterton’s Fence is the argument that us not knowing the reason behind something is a reason to keep it.
Here’s a Bayesian counterargument for cultural practices:
Culture is more likely to have retained the instruction “Do X!” but not retained knowledge of X’s original purpose, if that purpose is not relevant any more.
If X’s purpose is still relevant, then retaining and teaching about X’s original purpose provides greater incentive for learning and teaching X, making X more likely to be retained. But if X’s original purpose is not still relevant, then retaining knowledge of the original purpose is a disincentive to learn and teach X itself, making X less likely to be retained. So, given that X is still taught, learning that its original purpose is known is evidence that it is still relevant; whereas learning that it is not known is evidence that it is not still relevant.
If X’s purpose is still relevant, then retaining and teaching about X’s original purpose provides greater incentive for learning and teaching X, making X more likely to be retained. But if X’s original purpose is not still relevant, then retaining knowledge of the original purpose is a disincentive to learn and teach X itself, making X less likely to be retained. So, given that X is still taught, learning that its original purpose is known is evidence that it is still relevant; whereas learning that it is not known is evidence that it is not still relevant.
If you are using the model of memetic selection, then useful things Xs are unlikely to have true explanations of why they are useful attached to them, but the most virulent ones. Sometimes they are the same, but obviously often they aren’t. After all Robin Hanson gets a lot of low hanging fruit showing us how for example school isn’t about learning etc.
Sometimes the most persistent combination would be a behavior or practice without an explicit explanation at all.
This is turning the argument on its head.
The point isn’t that knowing a purpose for something is a reason to keep the thing. If we know the reason for it and judge it good, of course we shall keep it. Banal. If we know a reason for a thing, and judge it bad, then the argument isn’t an encouragement to keep it either. No Chesterton’s Fence is the argument that us not knowing the reason behind something is a reason to keep it. Applying it to things, for which we easily learn why they are there, is pretty much redundant as far as heuristics go.
Let me quite directly, from his novel The Thing (1929). In the chapter entitled, “The Drift from Domesticity” he writes:
What you say here is reasonable, but it is completely unrelated to your comment that started this thread. If, as in your original comment, people are mistaken about the age of their traditions, they are ignorant of the origins, and thus Chesterton advice to learn the origin applies.
This isn’t directly related to that argument no, like I said I would need an essay to explain that (and I’ve started writing one), I was correcting a misreading of the classical Cheston’s fence.
Kinda. I actually read it as an argument for passivity unless you know what you’re doing.
Not knowing the reason for something is a “reason to keep it”—well, it’s a reason to not do anything. If that something gets destroyed by, say, a force of nature, would Chesterton’s Fence tell you to rebuild it? No, I don’ think so.
The Chesteron’s Fence is primarily a warning against hubris, against pretending to contain all the reasons of the world in your head. It is, basically, an entreaty to consider unknown unknowns, especially if you have evidence of their workings in front of you.
Force of nature is misleading in the context of where it is likely to be applied. No social norms or institutions subsist without maintenance. But let me keep it and tweak it a bit, if you could easily prevent the force of nature destroying the fence, would you say the argument encourages you to do so?
Here’s a Bayesian counterargument for cultural practices:
Culture is more likely to have retained the instruction “Do X!” but not retained knowledge of X’s original purpose, if that purpose is not relevant any more.
If X’s purpose is still relevant, then retaining and teaching about X’s original purpose provides greater incentive for learning and teaching X, making X more likely to be retained. But if X’s original purpose is not still relevant, then retaining knowledge of the original purpose is a disincentive to learn and teach X itself, making X less likely to be retained. So, given that X is still taught, learning that its original purpose is known is evidence that it is still relevant; whereas learning that it is not known is evidence that it is not still relevant.
If you are using the model of memetic selection, then useful things Xs are unlikely to have true explanations of why they are useful attached to them, but the most virulent ones. Sometimes they are the same, but obviously often they aren’t. After all Robin Hanson gets a lot of low hanging fruit showing us how for example school isn’t about learning etc.
Sometimes the most persistent combination would be a behavior or practice without an explicit explanation at all.