Many years ago, before the web, when email lists and bulletin boards were the cutting edge of the Internet and dinosaurs ruled the earth...
I was on a certain mailing list, and there was one member who, on being pressed to admit having been wrong about something or other, asserted that it was a deliberate policy of his to never do any such thing. That did not mean that he never changed his mind as a result of argument. But (he said) if he did, he would simply cease to assert the view he now thought was mistaken, and after some suitable lapse of time, advocate the view he now thought was correct, as if it had been his view all along.
I am undecided about whether this counts as logical rudeness.
Worded differently, it makes more sense: “I have to process this information and will get back to you with updated beliefs.”
He would never say anything like that, though. So he would update on new evidence, but he wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of crowing over it—which crowing, I would say, is another type of logical rudeness.
People on that mailing list were greatly offended by his declaration, but he simply ignored their protestations.
In some cultures, like that of my mother’s, it is extremely rude to press a person to capitulation. It is expected that people should parry in such a way that neither person loses face. In such contexts, talking in circles, softening the argument and changing the line of the argument—by either party—can be signs that one person has already conceded. It’s not only polite to save the face of the person ‘losing’ the argument, it is polite to spare the ‘winner’ from the embarrassment of causing any loss of face. To the extent that if someone ever abruptly concedes an argument in a face-to-face encounter, I assume that they belong to this culture, and I will rewind the argument to see how I offended them—usually by pressing my argument too hard or too directly.
My father, on the other hand, thought that a touch-down dance must be done on the corpse of every argument, to make sure that it is never resurrected. To not do so would weaken the argument. And I think this is a common American view—that if you are difficult to throw down and hold down, then your opponent’s argument needs to be stronger.
The member of your e-mail list had a third view, which I think is defensible in its contrast to these two extremes.
And I think this is a common American view—that if you are difficult to throw down and hold down, then your opponent’s argument needs to be stronger.
I think “American” is too general in this context. My home state is Minnesota and the culture there is very passive aggressive. There is a small subset of people who act like your father and are very active aggressive; the majority will bend over backwards to say one thing while meaning another. Meta-communication is huge in this context. If you suddenly switch roles from being passive aggressive to active aggressive the entire community will beat the hell out of you.
“Minnesota nice” is always said with an inside smirk because we know what is happening behind the smile.
I now live in Texas which is a completely different form of “nice.” The people here are more willing to give up a conversation if it will end in someone getting hurt. The behavior of “nice” is expected because they expect people to be nice. Minnesota expects the behavior even though they aren’t actually that nice.
I think “American” is too general in this context.
You’re absolutely right. I only risked this generalization because it seemed to match various American stereotypes enough to help people identify the behavior, without much risk of causing offense because “American” doesn’t actually mean anything. Narrower labels are more misleading, which is why I won’t share here the cultural group of my mother.
Interesting. Can you say more about how your mother’s culture’s way of handling conflict affects its members’ rationality, in comparison to your father’s?
Not really. Just going by the model, I would predict that if my dad was irrational, it would be because of a refusal to update beliefs, and if my mom was irrational, it would be because of not clearly defining her position.
However, my dad likes arguing and changing his mind, and I can’t infer from my mother’s equanimity that her own beliefs aren’t specific.
I can predict that if I asked them, they’d agree that updating beliefs is a private matter, independent of the social details (?) of an argument.
On the way home today (driving = meditation) , I realized that if I wasn’t making any headway comparing and contrasting my parent’s rationality—all I came up with were paradoxes and conundrums, enough for a small novel—it was because they are both exceptionally rational. However, their extended families are caricatures of irrationality.
My mother’s family succumb to magical thinking—oh wow, they do. My grandmother is afraid of bridges AND cars, and whenever she drives over a bridge (being driven, she can’t drive) she says a prayer so that everyone’s souls will stay in the car and not go under the bridge. My father’s family are Republicans and never notice how conveniently all facts about the world fall straight down party lines. (“Well, of course, one side can THINK and the others are morons.”)
Rationality-wise, from this single case study of my families, I’d say one family being argumentative and competitive about beliefs led to good [instrumental] rationality and closed-mindedness, and one family being confrontation-avoidant led to poor [instrumental] rationality and open-mindedness. I would never claim such a thing in general and would be curious about other data points.
… thinking about it further, I’ve decided I don’t know them well enough. I haven’t spent that much time with them.
I have an increasingly uneasy feeling about the possible value of reducing 30 people to 4 hand waving generalizations. I don’t understand why I can’t anticipate the anxiety until after I post the comment.
He would never say anything like that, though. So he would update on new evidence, but he wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of crowing over it—which crowing, I would say, is another type of logical rudeness.
The crowing seems unhealthy, for both parties.
Also, I find that the correlation between people admitting defeat in an argument and actually changing minds is so low that having everyone behave like this person might not destroy any information about what arguments work. But it seems useful to do a post-mortem at a later, calmer date. When he comes back with a new belief, it would be useful to know (1) that he changed it and (2) why.
Really? This very day, someone said FAIL to me, I admitted it, and I’m still alive and healthy. I’ve already lived through an arguer’s worst nightmare, and it doesn’t seem to have harmed me much.
Speaking for myself, I find it very unpleasant to be on the receiving end of crowing. Hence I have a much easier time admitting mistakes to people I particularly trust not to crow. (One of the nice things about LW is that there isn’t much crowing here, which makes mind-changing and fessing up easier. I’d definitely like to keep it that way.)
There’s a really easy trick for conceding a debate without being crowed at. The trick is to admit that you were wrong, concisely explain the change you’ve made to your beliefs, and warmly thank the other person for taking the time to help you become correct about this. Even if they were a bit of a dick in the debate itself. Don’t declare defeat; declare a mutual victory of truth.
Anybody who can crow about your defeat after that is a huge asshole, and furthermore this should be obvious to anybody watching.
(This trick also makes you feel better about changing your mind, because you’ve reclassified it as a victory. I’ve had a much easier time conceding debates ever since I adopted this habit and mindset.)
Although according to Robin Hansen, low status significantly reduces life expectancy, so presumably every time someone crows, your life expectancy goes down by some amount.
Many years ago, before the web, when email lists and bulletin boards were the cutting edge of the Internet and dinosaurs ruled the earth...
I was on a certain mailing list, and there was one member who, on being pressed to admit having been wrong about something or other, asserted that it was a deliberate policy of his to never do any such thing. That did not mean that he never changed his mind as a result of argument. But (he said) if he did, he would simply cease to assert the view he now thought was mistaken, and after some suitable lapse of time, advocate the view he now thought was correct, as if it had been his view all along.
I am undecided about whether this counts as logical rudeness.
Worded differently, it makes more sense: “I have to process this information and will get back to you with updated beliefs.”
My line of admitting defeat essentially sounds like, “Huh, interesting.”
He would never say anything like that, though. So he would update on new evidence, but he wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of crowing over it—which crowing, I would say, is another type of logical rudeness.
People on that mailing list were greatly offended by his declaration, but he simply ignored their protestations.
In some cultures, like that of my mother’s, it is extremely rude to press a person to capitulation. It is expected that people should parry in such a way that neither person loses face. In such contexts, talking in circles, softening the argument and changing the line of the argument—by either party—can be signs that one person has already conceded. It’s not only polite to save the face of the person ‘losing’ the argument, it is polite to spare the ‘winner’ from the embarrassment of causing any loss of face. To the extent that if someone ever abruptly concedes an argument in a face-to-face encounter, I assume that they belong to this culture, and I will rewind the argument to see how I offended them—usually by pressing my argument too hard or too directly.
My father, on the other hand, thought that a touch-down dance must be done on the corpse of every argument, to make sure that it is never resurrected. To not do so would weaken the argument. And I think this is a common American view—that if you are difficult to throw down and hold down, then your opponent’s argument needs to be stronger.
The member of your e-mail list had a third view, which I think is defensible in its contrast to these two extremes.
I think “American” is too general in this context. My home state is Minnesota and the culture there is very passive aggressive. There is a small subset of people who act like your father and are very active aggressive; the majority will bend over backwards to say one thing while meaning another. Meta-communication is huge in this context. If you suddenly switch roles from being passive aggressive to active aggressive the entire community will beat the hell out of you.
“Minnesota nice” is always said with an inside smirk because we know what is happening behind the smile.
I now live in Texas which is a completely different form of “nice.” The people here are more willing to give up a conversation if it will end in someone getting hurt. The behavior of “nice” is expected because they expect people to be nice. Minnesota expects the behavior even though they aren’t actually that nice.
Of course, your mileage may vary.
You’re absolutely right. I only risked this generalization because it seemed to match various American stereotypes enough to help people identify the behavior, without much risk of causing offense because “American” doesn’t actually mean anything. Narrower labels are more misleading, which is why I won’t share here the cultural group of my mother.
Interesting. Can you say more about how your mother’s culture’s way of handling conflict affects its members’ rationality, in comparison to your father’s?
Not really. Just going by the model, I would predict that if my dad was irrational, it would be because of a refusal to update beliefs, and if my mom was irrational, it would be because of not clearly defining her position.
However, my dad likes arguing and changing his mind, and I can’t infer from my mother’s equanimity that her own beliefs aren’t specific.
I can predict that if I asked them, they’d agree that updating beliefs is a private matter, independent of the social details (?) of an argument.
On the way home today (driving = meditation) , I realized that if I wasn’t making any headway comparing and contrasting my parent’s rationality—all I came up with were paradoxes and conundrums, enough for a small novel—it was because they are both exceptionally rational. However, their extended families are caricatures of irrationality.
My mother’s family succumb to magical thinking—oh wow, they do. My grandmother is afraid of bridges AND cars, and whenever she drives over a bridge (being driven, she can’t drive) she says a prayer so that everyone’s souls will stay in the car and not go under the bridge. My father’s family are Republicans and never notice how conveniently all facts about the world fall straight down party lines. (“Well, of course, one side can THINK and the others are morons.”)
Rationality-wise, from this single case study of my families, I’d say one family being argumentative and competitive about beliefs led to good [instrumental] rationality and closed-mindedness, and one family being confrontation-avoidant led to poor [instrumental] rationality and open-mindedness. I would never claim such a thing in general and would be curious about other data points.
Real open-mindedness or just verbal pleasantry? Can you give a concrete example of them acting on a new idea they were open to?
… thinking about it further, I’ve decided I don’t know them well enough. I haven’t spent that much time with them.
I have an increasingly uneasy feeling about the possible value of reducing 30 people to 4 hand waving generalizations. I don’t understand why I can’t anticipate the anxiety until after I post the comment.
The crowing seems unhealthy, for both parties.
Also, I find that the correlation between people admitting defeat in an argument and actually changing minds is so low that having everyone behave like this person might not destroy any information about what arguments work. But it seems useful to do a post-mortem at a later, calmer date. When he comes back with a new belief, it would be useful to know (1) that he changed it and (2) why.
Really? This very day, someone said FAIL to me, I admitted it, and I’m still alive and healthy. I’ve already lived through an arguer’s worst nightmare, and it doesn’t seem to have harmed me much.
Other people are different.
Speaking for myself, I find it very unpleasant to be on the receiving end of crowing. Hence I have a much easier time admitting mistakes to people I particularly trust not to crow. (One of the nice things about LW is that there isn’t much crowing here, which makes mind-changing and fessing up easier. I’d definitely like to keep it that way.)
There’s a really easy trick for conceding a debate without being crowed at. The trick is to admit that you were wrong, concisely explain the change you’ve made to your beliefs, and warmly thank the other person for taking the time to help you become correct about this. Even if they were a bit of a dick in the debate itself. Don’t declare defeat; declare a mutual victory of truth.
Anybody who can crow about your defeat after that is a huge asshole, and furthermore this should be obvious to anybody watching.
(This trick also makes you feel better about changing your mind, because you’ve reclassified it as a victory. I’ve had a much easier time conceding debates ever since I adopted this habit and mindset.)
I wasn’t born different, AFAIK. I’ve been training myself.
Though you know, even in the absence of training, I think a considerable majority of people wouldn’t actually drop dead.
Although according to Robin Hansen, low status significantly reduces life expectancy, so presumably every time someone crows, your life expectancy goes down by some amount.
On the other hand, maybe your IQ goes up a few points.
http://www.overcomingbias.com/2007/12/heroic-job-bias.html
does not sound like a healthy response to me. (I’m not disputing the truth of the claim.)
This does seem like a healthy response to me.
Neener neener neener, Eliezer was wroooong!
(the wroooong has to stretch across two syllables to fit the meter)
Now all we need is a fanperson to compile every single time Eliezer has been wrong on the internet. :D
I think this is a common policy, although it’s rare that someone would admit to following it.