The rationalist community & me

You may have heard of the "rationalist community." To the (very imperfect) extent I understand what it is, it's a group of people who profess to observe reasoned inquiry. That inquiry requires being aware of one's own biases, owning up to and being honest about the "epistemic status" (i.e., degree of certainty) of what they know, and using statistical probabilities in an approach known as "Bayesian analysis" to resolve questions. My apologies to any member of that community who might be reading, for I'm sure I've misrepresented them.

My experiences with the community are in the e-world. 

Myth/fact lists don't work

I've long believed that presenting a list of "myths" that you debunk with "facts" is recipe for, shall we say, less effective advocacy. I won't say "myth/fact lists" are completely ineffective. They probably teach some people some things and probably change some minds along some margin. But they usually, in my experience, do a poor job at it.

I propose three reasons for that. 

The first is that the "facts" used to refute the "myths" are themselves often not "facts" in the sense of something that can be verified or falsified. They are usually interpretations based on verifiable/falsifiable facts. The interpretations themselves might be plausible and defensible. But it's usually contestable.

The second is that the "myth" usually contains some truth. That's one reason for its survival as a "myth." Myth/fact lists err, when they do, by framing the myth in a way that obfuscates--or denies--the truth behind it.

The third reason is that the person who believes a "myth" usually does so for reasons the myth buster usually doesn't acknowledge. The myth usually reflects an underlying concern that in itself is either legitimate, or sincerely felt. The facts/interpretations used to bust the myth usually don't touch this underlying concern.

The three reasons can be summed up in larger "meta-reason": myth/fact lists are a way of talking down to those you are trying to convince of something. You may say that ignorance is no excuse for ignorance, and that it's your responsibility to educate people and not coddle them in their errors. In response, I say, "good luck with that." If you really want to convince someone of something, or enlighten them about something, you assume a certain burden of doing so effectively (As an aside, if you're using "educate" or "enlighten" as transitive verbs, that's a sign you're possibly talking down to someone.)

I hedge my bets. I say "usually" a lot in this blog post. Many, maybe most, myth/fact lists make good points. There's often at least one myth that is clearly untrue and debunked by the facts. Just beware that myth/fact lists might not do the work you think they do.

About that New York Times piece on Slate Star Codex

My small corner of the blogosphere is aflutter about the recent New York Times piece, by Cade Metz, about Slate Star Codex, Scott Alexander's former blog. Those of you familiar with that blog and the controversy know that last summer, Alexander shut down his blog because he feared the Times was going to dox him (that is, reveal his true identity) in a story about the Alexander's ability to successfully predict the covid-19 crisis. Alexander later re-posted his blog online for public viewing--it had been offline for only about a month or so, if I recall--and a month or so ago, he created a new blog, Astral Star Codex.

I agree with almost all the criticisms I've read of the Times article. E.g, Scott Aaronson, Cathy Young, Alan Jacobs. It was shoddy reporting. It made arguments by innuendo and association. You can read those critics I just linked to for more details. One thing I'll add that I haven't yet seen other commentators say is this. Metz seems to suggest that Alexander's taking his blog offline was some sort of nefarious action, perhaps akin to a criminal preparing to skip town before they're served with a subpoena. (See what I did there: Metz said none of that, but I teased out something nefarious, Metz-style, from what actually was said.) Metz does mention, later in the article, that Alexander re-posted his blog. But the mention is so far away that we're left with a sense of  "Alexander tried to escape responsibility for his actions."

That said, I don't believe, as Alan Jacobs seems to, that this necessarily represents a decline in journalistic standards. True, if the New York Times or if Mr. Metz observed higher standards--if they showed their work and stuck to demonstrable facts--the piece would have been better. But I think even the most conscientious journalist, working for the most conscientious news organization, will distort anything by writing about it. The journalist needn't be a liar and the news organization needn't be vindictive for that to happen. It will get things wrong because the reportage is at least one step removed from that which it is reporting. That's the definition of reporting. Even a putatively sympathetic account of Slate Star Codex will probably portray it in a misleading light. (I'm also not saying Metz is a liar or that the Times is vindictive, though I do suggest their behavior with that article is not up to snuff.)

I was a fan of Slate Star Codex and I'm a fan of Astral Star Codex. I'm glad Alexander has returned to the blogosphere.

 

 

The perils of impeachment

[Note: I originally posted this at Ordinary-Times a couple weeks ago. I have edited this version from that one, and my most extensive edits concern my point about the electoral college. I'll state this, too. I wrote this post after the House had voted for articles of impeachment, but before the Senate took up the articles. So some of what I say here is dated by those developments.]

If you support impeaching Donald Trump now that he's out of office, you should account for certain hazards 

 

Crocodile tears and the mad rush

The covid vaccine will possibly be made available to me sooner than to other people who probably need it more

That's thanks to my job. Although the details of the vaccine rollout are still sketchy, it seems that my state ranks employment at a university one step ahead of the general public when it comes to getting the vaccine.

I don't believe I should be given any special priority. 

Withdrawal and engagement

Sometimes it's hard to find the proper balance between withdrawal and engagement. It's possible to do too much of one and not enough of the other.

I'm giving up Ordinary Times for Lent

I need to take a break from Ordinary Times, at least for a little while.

A while ago, I wrote a post saying that I'm considering "withdrawing for moral health." I didn't really withdraw. Part of what I meant, though I didn't say it, was that I was going to disengage from the Ordinary Times blog. If you paid attention (or care), I didn't really withdraw. I have since then written a few blog posts and continued to comment there.

The main problem is that I choose to be someone I don't like when I participate there. I take things personally that aren't meant personally. Well, sometimes they're meant personally, but they don't have to be taken personally. I adopt a posture where I choose to dislike certain commenters personally, even though I have never met them in person. Sometimes I find I'm prepared to angrily disagree with what someone says even before I read their comment. Sometimes even when it turns out I agree with what they're saying. In too many of those cases, I change my mind to disagree with that which I had previously agreed--all because I don't like the person who uttered it.

It's not just the people I don't like, either. I choose to be defensive even when people's disagreements are ones I'm willing to accept, that is, when I'm not very invested in the point at issue, or when the disagreement is reasonable, or when I've anticipated the disagreement, or when I (supposedly) steeled myself for the probability someone would raise it. Even if someone agrees with me, I'll sometimes choose to be defensive.

I don't say any of this as a criticism of Ordinary Times or as a criticism of the commentariat there. Even though some of my gripes against some of the commenters there are, in my opinion, legitimate, I have no legitimate prerogative to treat some of the people there as I do.

In fact, it's not really about Ordinary Times at all. OT just happens to be the online community in which I participate the most often and the most deeply. There's something about internet engagement that seems dangerous or tempting in a way that I'm no longer equipped (if I ever was) to weather, and OT is there site where I most often encounter that "something."

I say "dangerous or tempting" warily. There's something about the frequent "internet is bad" or "social media is ruining us" mantras that make me uneasy. It's not so much that I disagree. Rather, it seems too simplistic. I have a hard time getting a handle on all the pathologies the internet and social media supposedly cause or make worse, and I have a hard time getting a handle on how the internet and social media do that. I also suspect the relevant "pathologies" have a non-technological, or extra-technological, component that persists regardless of whether or in what ways I, or anyone, withdraws.

I'm not fully confident I'll be successful in my temporary withdrawal from OT. It's tempting to wend my way on over there, "just to see what they're writing," or "just to comment on that one post," or "just to float this idea in a blog post over there."

Another danger is that I'll find a new site and recommit the same errors I did at OT. So in theory--assuming I follow through--a concomitant decision will be to engage less fully in comment culture elsewhere.

And yet another danger: Removing oneself from temptation is not virtue. It can actually be vicious. Maybe it creates complacency, or a cowardice informed by not wanting to face challenges. It can indicate a closing into oneself. There are probably other ways it's vicious.

I will try to write more often here, though. One big disadvantage in doing so is that I'll be writing more for myself and less for an audience. I think my writing at OT is better than my writing here. At OT, I usually do several, several drafts. I cut many of my darlings. And I strive to anticipate and address objections I know others will have. When I write here, it's more off-the-cuff.

UPDATE, FEBRUARY 5, 2021: I realize that Lent doesn't begin for about a week, but nonetheless, I'm starting it now.

Missing the obvious

If you try reading about Borderline Personality Disorder or Bipolar Disorder, or both, it won't take long before you encounter people explaining that people often confuse the two disorders. The explanations for why usually make sense. Some of the behaviors, for example, are superficially similar, especially when observed by people who are not mental health professionals or who are not well-versed in those disorders.

Those are good explanations, but rarely--actually, never, in my (very anecdotal) experience--do the explainers state what to me is one obvious reason for the confusion.

Both disorders begin with a "B" and both are commonly abbreviated as "BPD."