The best lack all conviction

MyDD points us to the latest from The Washington Post's Shankar Vedantam, "Disagree About Iraq? You're Not Just Wrong — You're Evil."

Here's the nut grafs of the article (which, as usual, Vedantam buries after several introductory paragraphs of misleading "examples"):

"We are really bad about putting ourselves in other people's places and looking at the world the way they look at it," said Glenn D. Reeder, a social psychologist at Illinois State University who recently conducted a study into how supporters and critics of the Iraq war have come to believe entirely different narratives about the war — and about each other. "We find it difficult to grant that other people come to their conclusions in good faith if they reach a conclusion that is different than ours," he said.

When Reeder and his colleagues asked pro-war and antiwar Americans how they would describe the other side's motives, the researchers found that the groups suffered from an identical bias: People described others who agreed with them as motivated by ethics and principle, but felt that the people who disagreed with them were motivated by narrow self-interest.

This is something we've been talking about here quite a bit recently: the presumption of good faith.

That presumption, like the principle of "innocent until proven guilty" in our legal system, is terribly important for civil society and democracy. If we start, instead, with a presumption of bad faith, then we will be unable to discuss the things about which we disagree. If we can't talk, then we can only fight — with bullets or ballots.

The presumption of good faith is sometimes referred to as the presumption of charity — a reference to the cardinal virtue, love. But it's also an expression of a different virtue: justice. It is unjust, unfair to presume before-the-fact that those who disagree with you have evil intent. This, again, is why we have a similar principle — innocent until proven guilty — in our justice system. Justice demands a presumption of innocence.

But note that this presumption of innocence in our justice system does not mean that no one is ever convicted of a crime. The standard is innocent until proven guilty. Prosecutors do not violate the presumption of innocence when they produce evidence and testimony proving that a suspect is guilty of a crime. Such evidence can lead to a conviction, the conclusion, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the suspect is not innocent.

Convictions based on evidence do not violate the presumption of innocence.

Here's where Vedantam and Dr. Reeder lose the plot. We've discussed Vedantam before (see "Behindsight and bias"). He covers the "Human Behavior" beat and as such is concerned mainly with people's attitudes. This tends to make his column weirdly abstract. He's curiously incurious about the real-world facts and conditions that may be the basis for those attitudes. In this case, in this article, he notes that people have drawn conclusions, but he is uninterested in whether or not these conclusions — these convictions, to use the word in both senses — are based on evidence:

It is important to note that the experiment does not establish which version of Bush's motives is true. It is possible, in other words, that everything you believe about Bush's motives is true and everything that your opponents believe is false. But a number of studies suggest people ought to be cautious about such conclusions. Studies have found, for example, that people believe that those who disagree with them are less informed and that those who agree with them are better informed.

Vedantam is arguing for a version of civility in which there is no such thing as evidence, in which, as he puts it, it does not matter "which version … is true." We "ought to be cautious," Vedantam says, about even thinking that it's possible to "establish which version … is true," because "studies have found" that we all approach such questions with biases and presuppositions about "those who disagree."

One wonders what basis Vedantam has for giving credence to the findings of such studies. If we accept his premise that all evidence is invalid due to bias, then the same must be said of the studies he (vaguely) cites as evidence of that bias.

What Vedantam fails to recognize is that the purpose of civil discourse is to allow us to find the truth together. Facts matter. Matter matters. Believing, or presuming, "the worst about those who disagree" should be avoided because it is uncharitable and unjust, but it also should be avoided because it is a distraction from the consideration of the facts of the matter. The motives, feelings and attitudes of those who disagree with me are not, to begin with, the substance of our disagreement.

Analogies are dangerous, but let's consider a hypothetical scenario so that we can be sure of agreeing on the facts in question.

Imagine there arises a health-craze for a new children's vitamin supplement containing large amounts of lead. Your friend has begun buying this supplement for his kids, and you have pleaded with him to stop. It's entirely possible, in this scenario, that you are both acting out of good faith, with the purest of motives. You both want what is best, and healthiest, for the children. Because you are friends, you are able to set aside bias and suspicion and the presumption of bad faith and you are able to discuss the evidence, the facts of the matter: lead is poisonous. In such a scenario, you would be able to persuade your friend not to poison the children with the lead supplements.

When talking to your next-door neighbor, however, you do not have this same basis of friendship and so your attempt at conversation quickly devolves into a shouting match in which each of you is presuming bad faith, bad motives. Your neighbor wants what is best for his children, so he insists that, as the ad says, they "Start the day the heavy, healthy way with new Pb for Kids!" He takes your disagreement with this practice to mean that you, for some twisted reason, don't want his kids to benefit from the best that medical science has to offer. This accusation leads you, unfortunately, to accuse him of wanting to poison his children, an approach that fails to persuade him. Eventually, you calm down and try to explain that lead is dangerous, but he's no longer listening. You may think lead is poisonous, but you also think he hates his children, and he knows you're wrong about that, so why should he listen to you?

The presumption of bad faith is a distraction from a consideration of the facts. And, because an invalid accusation of bad motive undermines your credibility, it prohibits the consideration of the facts.

But again, contra Vedantam, the facts matter. The relative sincerity or insincerity of the opposing parties' concern for the children's health is nowhere near as relevant as the fact that "Pb for Kids" is highly toxic. "Which version … is true" is all that really matters.

Now imagine a conversation with a different neighbor. You have been the model of civility, politeness and magnanimity. "I realize that you only want what is best for your children," you say, "so I ask you to reconsider giving them this supplement." You give them a copy of this pamphlet on the dangers of lead poisoning and calmly, patiently explain — without ever once questioning their motives — why it is terribly important not to expose children to this toxin. This neighbor thanks you, but continues giving his children the supplement.

At this point, you begin to question his motives. You begin to wonder if maybe he is intentionally poisoning his children, or if he's crazy, or deliberately ignorant.

Tsk, tsk! says Vedantam Shankar, wagging a disapproving finger. Concluding bad faith based on evidence is just the same as presuming it beforehand. And where do you get off handing out pamphlets? That's just an example of the biased preconception "that people believe that those who disagree with them are less informed and that those who agree with them are better informed."

Vedantam seems to think that the only way to avoid prejudice is to avoid judgment — that consideration of the evidence is dangerous because it can lead to bias. He seems to think that any conviction is a rejection of the presumption of innocence. That it's impossible to believe another is wrong without accusing them of being evil, an thus that we should never accuse others of being (or risk being ourselves) wrong.

Here's the conclusion of Vedantam's article:

Reeder said he has very strong beliefs about the Iraq war, but reminds himself when he gets too heated that he might be falling victim to the very biases he studies. I asked the psychologist where he stands on the war. He declined to say. "I have done my job," he said, "if partisans on both sides think I disagree with them."

This is Broderian cowardice. Reeder and Vedantam are drowning in their ceremony of innocence, so intent on avoiding passionate intensity that they lack all conviction. Such a center cannot hold.