Before reading this book, I had been aware of the ideas of cognitive dissonance and self-justification, having encountered them in some day-to-day personal interactions, mostly related to money. (“X is good, and I want it, but I don’t want to spend so much money on X… therefore, X is no good and I don’t want it!”)
This book studies dissonance in larger real-world situations where the stakes are much higher. Through examples about corrupt politicians, false memories, police interrogations, and others, we see how powerful a force cognitive dissonance can be. The more wrong you are about something, the harder you’ll try to convince yourself that you’re not wrong. This leads to decisions that can harm many people.
This was an enlightening read, but disturbing at the same time. I came away from it with a hopeless feeling. There don’t seem to be any solutions for the problem other than people realizing and admitting to their mistakes, but if self-justification is so ingrained in our minds, how would this actually happen? I don’t know.
A while ago, I posted an item about the word “Darwinism” and how I thought it had some bad connotations. This week, there was a column in the New York Times called “Darwinism Must Die So That Evolution May Live” (free registration required). It has a similar theme but obviously more professionally written and better researched. In particular, one paragraph echoes some of the ideas in my original post.
Science has marched on. But evolution can seem uniquely stuck on its founder. We don’t call astronomy Copernicism, nor gravity Newtonism. “Darwinism” implies an ideology adhering to one man’s dictates, like Marxism. And “isms” (capitalism, Catholicism, racism) are not science. “Darwinism” implies that biological scientists “believe in” Darwin’s “theory.” It’s as if, since 1860, scientists have just ditto-headed Darwin rather than challenging and testing his ideas, or adding vast new knowledge.
Needless to say, I agree. I have no further comment on the matter. I only wanted to bask in self-congratulation. Thank you.
I was reading The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, and something occurred to me. While I worked my way through the section about the evolution vs. intelligent design debate (which any book about atheism should address), the word “Darwinism” kept popping up. Every time the word was used, I became more and more conscious of it; something about it bothered me.
The thing that struck me is this: why is Darwinism an “-ism”? The -ism suffix is generally used for names of religions (e.g. Judaism, Catholicism, Hinduism), or a philosophical stance (e.g. existentialism, Marxism, even atheism itself), or a political movement (e.g. feminism, abolitionism).
Darwinism, being a scientific theory, doesn’t fit into these categories. I can’t think of any other scientific theories with the -ism suffix. Wouldn’t it be like calling the Laws of Motion “Newtonism”, or general relativity “Einsteinism”, or genetics “Watson and Crickism”? (Or maybe “Watsonism-and-Crickism” to be more fair to Watson.)
I wonder if the use of the word “Darwinism” weakens the evolution argument in the public eye, because it makes it sound like something less than an established theory. Maybe “Darwinism” has a very precise meaning that I’m unclear on, but it is commonly used when discussing evolution and natural selection. The debate between evolution and creationism (which is appropriately an -ism) is a public, cultural one; and the public, in my opinion, is not so concerned with precisely defining terms.
A word like “Darwinism” lends itself to attacks of this sort: “See? It’s just some guy’s opinion!” I’d like to see the word used less, at least for the purposes of cultural debate. Charles Darwin obviously deserves a lot of credit, but in this case, a more decisive term may be more useful.
Those who know me know that I don’t like The Da Vinci Code. I’ve always maintained that I find the subject matter interesting, but the ridiculous plot and poor writing completely cancel that out. After recently seeing the movie, I have been able to better crystallize my criticisms of the story; i.e. it’s much easier to see the crap when it’s all condensed together in a short time frame.
One major annoyance that I had with the plot was the abundance of deus ex machina moments. These are moments in a story where the characters seem to be in a hopeless situation, but then something completely unexpected or unrealistic comes along to bail them out of it. This kind of plot device is okay if used in moderation, but it happens way too many times in Da Vinci Code. To wit:
(Spoilers ahead… although the spoilers basically amount to: they don’t die.)
Robert and Sophie are trapped in an armoured truck. A villain is pointing a gun at them. Instead of just shooting them, the villain decides to close the door of the truck, right onto a bullet shell casing that Robert had just happened to kick into the doorway. The door bounces back and the villain comically bangs his head on it. Yes, yes, I know in the book some explanation is given as to why he pushed the shell casing into the doorway… but really, I’m not going to go and read it again.
Robert and Sophie are standing in some church. A villain is pointing a gun at them. Suddenly, a dove flies by and distracts the villain, who then proceeds to forget how to shoot a gun. He fires and misses. A dove flies by! What is this, a John Woo movie?
Ian McKellan is sitting in his house. A villain (Silas the crazy monk) is pointing a gun at him. He grabs his crutches and swings. Incredibly, Silas, who we have just seen killing a nun with a single, well-timed and ruthless strike, fails to react fast enough to shoot Ian McKellan at point blank range. I would expect Jackie Chan to be able to pull a move like that off, but Ian McKellan? And this isn’t Gandalf Ian McKellan. Or Magneto Ian McKellan. It’s crippled scholar Ian McKellan!
This is one of my favourite passages from George Carlin’s newest book, When Will Jesus Bring The Pork Chops?:
If someone says, “Have a nice weekend,” I never say, “You too.” Because I never know if, perhaps, by the time the weekend rolls around, I will have other plans for that person. Come Friday, I may wish to have them slain.
A lot of Carlin’s humour has to do with language, and in particular, the stuff that people say so much that it becomes automatic and loses meaning. I know I’ve had the “Have a nice weekend”/“You too” exchange many times, and every time it happens, I kick myself for being so conformist. The next time someone says to me, “Have a nice weekend,” I will reply, “Fuck that, I plan to wallow in misery and self-loathing all weekend.” Thank you, George Carlin.
