flaws and fallacies

So recently I started reading this nonfiction book (that you may have heard of as it's been popular as of recent years - how I heard of it I don't remember) called Thinking, Fast and Slow. It's a pretty fascinating take on the psychology behind the mental processes we use to make decisions in everyday life, which the author, Daniel Kahneman, characterizes as two agents or systems. System 1, the fast thinker, is prone to make automatic judgments without you realizing it and falls along the lines of what most people would call intuition, whereas System 2, the slow thinker, is more deliberate and takes effect when you're actually conscious of what you're thinking about. Most people regularly rely on both systems on an everyday basis in decision-making, but often don't realize how often their System 1 factors into that process, particularly when it leads them to faulty or irrational conclusions that they might not have otherwise if they'd actually employed their System 2 more.

The book itself spends a good deal of time elaborating on other mental/logical fallacies that often emerge as a result of both systems and their interaction with each other. A lot of it may come across as surprising, though perhaps less so particularly if you're already familiar with statistics/probability, as a good number of fallacies are related to that subject and how often people will ignore statistical conclusions even when they've been convinced of their validity in favor of continuing to satisfy their own personal biases (but what else is new, really). I could go on about it more but I'll leave it at it's a pretty enlightening read so go read it and yada yada.

About a month ago it was suggested to me that I'd been giving off this impression as if I were fed up with incompetence in the world (not sure if that was the exact word but it was along those lines) To be honest, I hadn't really thought of it that way before, but my immediate reaction was of spontaneous immediate agreement- I mean seriously, why is there so much incompetence in the world?- while neglecting to mention the second half of what I was really feeling- "and why do I feel like I'm just contributing to it?"

The flaws and mental fallacies that Kahneman brought up in his book struck a similar chord along that train of thought, for I couldn't help but feel incredibly annoyed and moreover pissed off while reading about them. Defects coming from people who essentially were unwilling to admit their own mistakes, satisfied with continuing to live in a fantasy world that catered to their own preconceived beliefs and immediate experiences, while rewriting other contrary facts and findings in their own minds so that it could fit whatever bullshit yet coherent story or interpretation that they came up with in their heads. (Okay, I'll admit that's a rather pessimistic way of interpreting Kahneman's book thus far.) Even though these are flaws that pretty much EVERYONE is susceptible to at some point in their lives or even regularly... but that notion just frustrated me even further.

We live such messed up, imperfect lives, it's a wonder we're able to still live and marvel at the simplest things, the beautiful (and not-so-beautiful) things, and get by day-to-day as if our lives aren't... really so imperfect. I look at all of the evidence I've been coming across of the ways in which people and the world around them don't entirely function the way that they should... the way that they ought to... the way that they feel like they should or ought to... and it just brings about an overwhelming sense of confusion and disbelief. To look at a problem in the world today and have this sense that this didn't have to happen; if only people actually communicated and empathized with each other and tried to focus on something beyond themselves for once, looked at the bigger picture, examined their own thoughts and motivations and actions and took responsibility for their own mistakes and shortcomings. But one can only hope for so much sometimes from a selfish and (to use a term parents mentioned from the weekend) "stiff-necked" species, in which these faults are almost essentially programmed from birth. There's no avoiding it.

And to see some of these same glaring defects in my own self on a regular basis, and find myself starting to grow apathetic about it because I too have that innately selfish part of me that doesn't really want to give a shit about it anymore. I see how I'm also a part of the problem I complain about, but I'm paralyzed by my own self-centered desire to settle for the status quo, a hedonistic life focused on the day-to-day to maybe even the next few months that doesn't have to worry about the long term plan because it's tired of people asking "when are you going to get a _____" (insert topic of choice here) and "what do you really want to achieve with your life?" I mean, I'm still too mentally busy being hung up on "why is this world the way it is?" and "what if that question doesn't have a real answer?" when I'm conscious enough to be bothered by it.

...

Anyone reading this who's been in or around an Intervarsity-related community is probably familiar with a book called True Story, which often gets recommended as a summer read in those circles due to its accessible message regarding how to reach out to others in a society that is becoming increasingly hostile to [the largely Protestant evangelical brand of] Christianity itself, which makes it pretty relevant application-wise. The book espouses a 4 circle diagram intended as a more sophisticated update to the bridge diagram that I'm guessing most evangelical Christians have probably been exposed to at some point in their lives (in my case it was elementary school), and I've personally seen two different communities that both happened to set up trainings of some sort teaching people how to engage others using the 4 circle diagram- aka how to draw it from scratch.

The diagram itself is nice in that it provides a structured way of explaining the basic idea of the Christian worldview to anyone who isn't familiar with it or perhaps even has a misconception of what it is Christians actually believe and why they would believe it. But as with any diagram or model that people come up with, it doesn't quite suffice as a satisfactory answer to all of the questions an outsider might have, particularly anyone who's given serious thought to this. (from a logic standpoint, I imagine one might take issue with the claim, "Just like hunger points to food and thirst points to water, so our universal ache for a better world means that such a world either once existed or will one day exist.") And I'm not entirely sure whether it suffices for the believer sharing the message itself- it probably varies on how much or well that person already understands their own faith and its implications. But the impression I got from seeing the enthusiastic push to have this diagram taught and spread in both communities was that people are willing to settle for a story that makes sense to them, even if it doesn't fit with or capture some or all of the details. And that isn't just limited to Christian circles either; I'm pretty sure that's applicable to everyone at some point.

And that happens to be the same message that Thinking Fast, and Slow expresses: our tendency to create stories in our heads that satisfy both the evidence we see before us and our own direct, personal experiences, when oftentimes there just isn't really enough information to form a realistic or universally accurate impression of that sort. And then we judge the validity of the stories we create by how coherent they are in themselves rather than how well they address all of those details, finding it easier instead to ignore the small things that don't conform to the story we're satisfied with, if needed.

To be honest, I often feel the same way about the Christian story itself. It can be told well, and it is internally coherent enough to satisfy at least some of those people who are feeling empty about their lives, upset by life circumstances and the failings of their own nature. The gospel is meant to be a message that saves, to preach good news to the poor and proclaim liberty to the captives, and recover sight to the blind and set free those who are oppressed. It's really an uplifting story. But to really accept it, to accept the Bible in the form which it's been presented, one has to learn to cope with a lot of added baggage: internal contradictions, flaws and fallacies, persecution and injustice borne about both outside and within, and often because of the church, established denominations divided among themselves in the most basic of doctrines and subject to bureaucratic powers, all of which came about as the result of human error and wrongdoing and misguided and often ill-informed intentions. For God so loved the world that he evidently chose a selfish, stubborn, prone to error and ultimately imperfect human species to help carry out his will upon the earth, presumably fully knowing of the consequences that would entail.

People in the communities I've been a part of are prone to look at those outside as lost, as misguided, as being without hope, and while that line of thinking does seem to naturally follow from the story that has been presented, it has never really sat right with me. Who are we to judge other lifestyles, other beliefs and worldviews, other experiences, and other existences in that fashion if we haven't experienced the weight of those lives ourselves? And yet we act as though our intuition based solely on our own immediate experiences about these issues is enough, in some cases perhaps without even realizing it.

Dear God, this is what I mean when I tell you that I'm not satisfied... but I'm still hoping to be surprised.

paradoxes.

Updated note: So I wrote this entry about a week ago and never got around to publishing it cause part of it didn't really sit right with me. Now it's a week later and I might say that I don't necessarily feel the same way I did when I wrote this, but as a snapshot of a moment that's become more typical lately whenever my mind is lucid enough, it still stands I guess.

Original note: I seem to have a habit for having not so uplifting thoughts while driving alone at night for an hour... and another habit for forgetting the contents of said thoughts the moment I get out of the car. But this is my attempt to recall said thoughts regardless. I really should have a recorder on me or something.

Words are all that I'm capable of thinking in, but words do not suffice.

Once you acknowledge that there will always be a barrier between yourself and other people to some extent, that there will always be some level on which you can never really connect, your view of the world (at least in my case) grows incredibly dim. You stop seeing opportunities in the conversations you might have but then decide not to, because why bother if it won't really go anywhere anyway? If, at the end of the day, you'll just go your separate ways, and then probably not talk again for another day or two or three or week or month or couple of months or half-year or year or so it goes on. So life goes on. And then maybe one or two or four or all of those times one of you might lament how you wish you had more time when you clearly don't and never will have any, so why bother bringing up a pointless subject to begin with.

And it's not even about just that fundamental inability to fully connect which is kind of inevitable anyway, because it's also about your own personal ineptitude. Your own inability to appear happy on command, because looking grim just happens to be your default face and smiling actually hurts more than it sounds even though it somehow uses less muscles than frowning. You can't mask what you're feeling because you like being honest with other people, but at the same time you're having trouble acknowledging or recognizing what exactly it is you're feeling in the first place, so when people call you out for not looking happy you respond that you really are happy and just suck at showing it. Which may also be true, but you really don't know.

All you know is that you aren't satisfied, and you can't figure out how to go about becoming satisfied because you don't believe you ever will be. Faith is believing in something despite that fact that you might not ever see it in your own lifetime, because Abraham had faith in a promise that he personally never lived to witness. And in your own case, it'd wind up being more selfish to simply give up and move on with your life than continue to hope for something you possibly [probably] will never see happen, even though to be frankly honest in this case you'd rather take the selfish route because you feel like you have a right to being content with the way things are. And any more talk about this subject is just continuing to beat on a dead horse that you silently killed years ago.

And clearly, thinking negatively in this fashion isn't right either, because other people will then call you out for not being your normal self because you clearly need help and need to cheer up. But why can't it simply be normal to regularly have negative thoughts of this sort? Isn't the majority of life as it is technically mundane for most people anyway, if you really think about it? Why can't you just acknowledge that and just be okay with the fact that you can't always be happy all the time? Why can't you just be content with the fact that you're not totally satisfied right now? And why the hell does that sound like a paradox when it makes sense in your head?

Is it weird that I find myself drawn towards negative thoughts and emotions? That I love being bleak and depressing sometimes and for the record like talking to other people even when they're also feeling that way? [As my coworker likes to tell me: "You revel in that shit."]

That said, it's not like I don't want to be more pleasant sometimes either. I often do wish I could be that person that brightens someone's day just by being present. I wish I could simply be fully open and sunny and likable and easily approachable and always present and all those other positive-sounding adjectives, inside and out.

But I can't be someone I'm not, and I'm not a genuine happy-go-lucky open and inviting person all the time. I am not someone who likes to draw attention or who is capable of making other people happy when I'm often incapable of doing so for myself. I am not popular or a center or attention or completely inspiring or ambitious or full of dreams for the future or much of a good role model for that matter. And for that matter, nor do I possess any real concrete interest of becoming that person, at least not for everyone or even the majority of the people I actually still see around. Even though I did actually wish for something along those lines at one point, until I realized what folly it was to hope for so much. Because if I really were fully all of those things, I wouldn't really be myself anymore.

If there's one thing I've been hearing a lot, it's that it's better to be an honest asshole than it is to be nice and disingenuous. And I've also been realizing lately that it's becoming increasingly more difficult for me to actually be genuinely... nice with most people. Instead, I notice how jealous I can be when I don't want to be, how apathetic I can be when I shouldn't be, and how self-serving I can be when it comes to me. The me of previous years would've been upset with the me of today, whereas now I don't really seem to care as much anymore except to... lament me, I guess, because I'm fine with lamenting things at least. It fits within my range of low-key emotional capability.

And apparently I'm also fine with choosing to be upset with things I don't really have to be upset over. Or it might be more apt to say that I often end up choosing to focus on the bad rather than the good, because for some messed up reason I sometimes like to feel as though I've been wronged and deserve to be vindicated or something, when in a lot of these cases, I really... don't. It's like saying I want to feel sad so that people will pity me when there really isn't anything to be pitied about (unless you consider it sad that my mind winds up resorting to this state, I guess).

Deep down, I secretly crave attention, and yet I simultaneously hate being the center of attention. I want to be pitied but I don't want to be noticed when I feel pitiful. I want to be close to people but at the same time I don't want to be bothered by them. I want to believe, but I don't want to really believe if it means that I'm lying to myself. I want this entry to be read but at the same time I don't know if I actually want anyone to read this.

I feel like I'm trapped in a perpetual state of cognitive dissonance, as if I'm suffering some sickness of the mind, but it also feels terribly normal and expected, as if that's just the way things are and always have been and being not sick is actually abnormal. I lament the fact that I'm even in this situation to begin with, that I couldn't simply just shut my mind off for once, except that the thought of shutting my mind off sounds terrifying and undesirable because I feel like I'd be betraying my own values in the process, by running away from my own problems. A mind can only take so much, but my mind doesn't want to stop taking.

And when my mind isn't lucid enough and people ask me about these things, I just shut down further. I can't truly think about them except for times like now when I'm alone. The moment someone else confronts me about them in person, I feel incapable of answering them honestly because I feel totally apathetic about it when they ask. And then when they're not around, I don't feel apathetic anymore. But I want to be able to still talk about these things when people are around, rather than continue skirting them under the rug... but I don't want to bother people with them.

There are days where I want to be apathetic [about life, the universe, and everything], and then there are days when I don't want to be apathetic, and then when all that is done and over, I can't decide which was the real me speaking, because while one clearly sounds better than the other, both feel equally desirable to me now, in the present. More likely I really am saying both and just keep teeter-tottering from one end to the other, because I can't just settle for one impression or feeling; I have to experience both extremes.

The reality is, sometimes I actually don't mind having depressing thoughts as much as I do mind having them, and that notion is both comforting and disturbing to me. I feel this pressure to conform to a society that values one side over the other, and I stress over the fact that I don't presently feel the same way, but at the same time I don't really want to worry so much over something (my tendency to experience depressing thoughts) that feels so much like just another typical facet of life. Or at least, mine own anyway. Because I would rather be a realistic pessimist than a delusional optimist.

I suppose you could call this my quarter-life crisis.

(yes, I know it's possible to be a realistic optimist or simply just a... realist, but I'm still a ways away from that point.)