On saying "no" - Over 20 years ago I did a sales training program. It had a lot of stuff to it, but the most important concept is to never, ever act like a salesman. Everyone has a negative perception of salespeople, so your job is to be the exact opposite.
Anyway, one of the key tenets of their approach was to give the prospect permission to say no. Most people absolutely hate rejecting other people. And with salespeople, they also fear that you'll apply a lot of pressure and try to get them to change their minds. So they ghost you instead.
Dunno if this applies well to writing for the NYT, but since taking that course I've found that giving permission to say no up front to be stress-reducing for everyone involved.
Calling someone "Hitler" (or just the possibility of being called a "nazi") can incentivize someone to accept your point (or at least stop resisting your arguments) for fear of being considered an Evil Person.
Shouting can be another way to incentivize your interlocutor to accept what you're saying or stop resisting what you're saying, again from fear of provoking aggression.
"Persuading" is about making the other person align with me; steering another agent's behavior in way that doesn't conflict with me. It is not (necessarily) required that this "alignment" is executed in an epistemically sound and warranted fashion. To persuade others, we use reasons, logic, and, yes, "dirty tactics". The confusion that "arguing is not about persuasion" arises from a tacit and faulty assumption that "persuasion" proceeds only via epistemic rationality.
Interesting. For me, the notion of persuasion that is relevant to an ideal notion of argument involves changing minds, not just behaviors. If you point a gun at me and tell me you'll shoot me if I don't say that I agree with you, this isn't persuasion in the sense that BB and I are interested in.
Yes, but then again, "changing minds" can be incentivized. Belief formation is not independent of the consequences of belief acquisition. Incentives that have nothing to do with attaining epistemic goals (like truth or knowledge) can (often unconsciously) influence the formation of our beliefs. Your example of pointing a gun at someone is an extreme case where people would be fully aware of the "incentive" but most of the time incentives that play a role in "changing minds" are "smooth operators".
Fear of being considered an Evil Person (like in a Hitler analogy) is a smooth operator.
Fear of being an object of someone's aggression can also be a smooth operator.
Taller self-confident people with a deeper voice are more persuasive than people who lack the same attributes but convey the same message. Moreover, we would consider the difference between these two people as a difference in *persuasion* (one person being more persuasive than the other) even though the content of the message (and its arguments) are the same.
The reason I emphasize changing "behavior" rather than "minds" when persuasion is concerned is an evolutionary one: we evolved to persuade each other but the reason why persuading is an evolved feature of human nature is ultimately because it has out-of-the-head consequences. Since it has to influence biological fitness it cannot simply be about the "mind". Changing minds has to be reflected in what we do. A desire to persuade someone of something could be part of our evolved nature only because the outcome of "persuasion" can be manifested in behavior.
Consider a Twin Earth where people "change minds" due to other people's persuasion but the consequences of "changing minds" are not reflected in a person's behavior. In Twin Earth, the practice of persuading wouldn't be a product of natural selection.
P.S. I greatly benefited from the discussions at the Budapest Summer School in 2014. organized by Nic Baumard. Merry Christmas!
Dear Professor, As always, it's a pleasure to read your article! Merry Christmas 🌲☃️and Happy New Year! My hope is that unjust war in Ukraine and in Gaza will end in 2025 and evil is destroyed!🙏
I'd love to read a piece exploring why people find it so hard to say "thanks, but no". I've noticed it when trying to get a builder to take on a job (they say they're interesed then dont return calls, or don't show up). In social situations I see people say they are interested in a social event when it seems clear to me they are not really interested, then make a excuse at the last minute or don't show up. I think the builder example is more strategic, the social one more to do with ot wanting to upset people,but I do think there is usually a mixture of both. The example of the NY times article likely involves both motivations.
I suppose this is part of a broader question,which is "why don't people say what they really think"
I wonder if the difficulty of saying “thanks but no” is due to the norms around reciprocity. My understanding is that many cultures make it somewhat taboo to decline positive reciprocity. This is because reciprocity is a fickle thing and easily switches from positive to negative - for example via the perceived slight of receiving a very lacklustre response. The entire community therefore puts pressure on to ensure this doesn’t happen (because an outbreak of negative reciprocity is often extremely damaging to the community as a whole). Just some thoughts - I’m going through an extended René Girard phase and he has very interesting ideas around reciprocity.
“Why don’t people say what they think” is another interesting question. I think it generally has to do with asymmetry of risk - one of the main risks being accidentally creating negative reciprocity. For example, there are many ways to be uncouth - and relatively few to be polite. If you say what you really think, there’s a decent chance you will upset someone. And there’s a decent chance that someone will create a problem out of it (especially on the internet!).
thanks for the really interesting response! Yes I think youre right that the cost of saying no in a clear way is too high - having thought about it some more, I dont think Id like it if someone said "thanks, but I dont really feel like it" . Maybe the situation we have works well, where people say "yes" in a way that still signals a lack of enthuiasm which is later converted into a half-baked excuse for not showing up - it seems annoyingly indirect to me when it happens, but may be the most adaptive way to do it as it always leaves enough ambiguity to save face for both parties.
In the casy of the NYT article, I think its much more likely to be a tatic that editors use, similar to the self-employed contractor - keep as many options open as possible and the cost of alienating the client is not that high.
Seems to me that arguing – like most activities – exists on a spectrum of bullshittery. When a mathematician writes a proof, the demand to restrain bullshit is exceedingly high. On the other end of the spectrum we might have, say, a car salesperson going through tough times. And in the middle of the spectrum our own thought processes meander along (for example, at this very moment I'm trying to discern whether my writing constitutes bullshit or not). But by revising our arguments, and exposing them to criticism, we sharpen them and shift them towards rationality (and then - hopefully - persuasiveness).
But what about the claim that the *nominal intent* of an interlocutor is bullshit? For example, is the mathematician *really* interested in discovering truth – or are they more interested in bolstering their reputation, producing another paper, finding an algebraic conduit for domestic frustrations, etc. Humans are complex and multifaceted – can we say anything with confidence? As demonstrated by the institution of judicial due process, our insights into intentions are often unreliable - and though we may feel cynical about intentions, failures to reach common ground always captivate us more than successes (and the presumption of ill-intent is often all-too-convenient).
But it's actually largely irrelevant what an interlocutor's intentions are. For example, lawyers are not especially known for honesty, transparency, and truth seeking, but pit two brilliant lawyers against each other and we will generally arrive at a reliable verdict – because of the mediation of the judge and jury. This true wherever disputes are mediated by third parties – sciences, politics, family gatherings, and so on. Although it's desirable (and efficient) for interlocutors to moderate themselves, it's not necessary for the argument to be extremely valuable. In fact, it's generally the responsibility of a third party to be perspicacious to bullshittery, to prevent violence, and – perhaps most importantly – to celebrate combatants for their valiant effort (regardless of actual intent, or even performance). Some people have internalised this "third party perspective" to the extent that they are pleasant, courteous interlocutors yet uncompromisingly fierce in their argumentation. These are amongst the most valuable kinds of people a society can produce – they will switch from raging intensity to placid laughter with the glimmer of an eye (although that doesn't mean they have won the argument!).
What is important about the "third party perspective" is that it harnesses the intentions of the interlocutors to produce something of value to the society (even if that value is a demonstration of how *not* to argue). The third party protects the interlocutors from excessive risk – both physically (by preventing violence) and reputationally (by celebrating their valiance regardless of outcome). These practices constitute a fruitful tradition of arguing – something Karl Popper calls a "tradition of criticism" (which he believes characterises the Enlightenment). This tradition provides an enormous vehicle for the sharpening of arguments – a vehicle which slowly but surely sifts the wheat from the chaff. We have a responsibility to protect and further it. Furthermore, to the extent that we ourselves have internalised this tradition of criticism, we become our own third parties – either in the moment or upon later reflection.
Therefore while the intentions of interlocutors are often grey, this does *not* mean that arguing is bullshit – so long as *someone else* is watching from the "third party" perspective (perhaps Future You, Future Them, Present You, Present Them, your cat, God, the jury, your parents, everyone at the dinner table, the Target Audience, etc, etc). The only argument guaranteed to end in bullshit is the argument in a perfect vacuum – and, as social creatures, it's rather difficult to live in a perfect vacuum. I think deep down most people intrinsically know this...
So perhaps in the moment an argument is bullshit - but so long as we (individually and collectively) use our capacity to reflect upon our arguments, they needn’t remain so. To the extent we are cognisant of this, our arguments will probably be less likely to be bullshit - even in the moment.
PS: One last thought is that the intent of an interlocutor ideally ought to be truth seeking or error correction, rather than persuasion. Advanced bullshit - such as advertising - can be highly persuasive and yet entirely orthogonal to reality.
On saying "no" - Over 20 years ago I did a sales training program. It had a lot of stuff to it, but the most important concept is to never, ever act like a salesman. Everyone has a negative perception of salespeople, so your job is to be the exact opposite.
Anyway, one of the key tenets of their approach was to give the prospect permission to say no. Most people absolutely hate rejecting other people. And with salespeople, they also fear that you'll apply a lot of pressure and try to get them to change their minds. So they ghost you instead.
Dunno if this applies well to writing for the NYT, but since taking that course I've found that giving permission to say no up front to be stress-reducing for everyone involved.
Here's a bog post I wrote about it in 2003: https://derekscruggs.com/2003/11/04/up-front-contracts/
Why does Bob agree to debate you, when you crush him so brutally?
And is he really so angry / bitter / prickly? I love him as a writer, but for someone who wrote "Why Buddhism Is True"....
"I find these points convincing."
I do not.
Calling someone "Hitler" (or just the possibility of being called a "nazi") can incentivize someone to accept your point (or at least stop resisting your arguments) for fear of being considered an Evil Person.
Shouting can be another way to incentivize your interlocutor to accept what you're saying or stop resisting what you're saying, again from fear of provoking aggression.
"Persuading" is about making the other person align with me; steering another agent's behavior in way that doesn't conflict with me. It is not (necessarily) required that this "alignment" is executed in an epistemically sound and warranted fashion. To persuade others, we use reasons, logic, and, yes, "dirty tactics". The confusion that "arguing is not about persuasion" arises from a tacit and faulty assumption that "persuasion" proceeds only via epistemic rationality.
Interesting. For me, the notion of persuasion that is relevant to an ideal notion of argument involves changing minds, not just behaviors. If you point a gun at me and tell me you'll shoot me if I don't say that I agree with you, this isn't persuasion in the sense that BB and I are interested in.
Yes, but then again, "changing minds" can be incentivized. Belief formation is not independent of the consequences of belief acquisition. Incentives that have nothing to do with attaining epistemic goals (like truth or knowledge) can (often unconsciously) influence the formation of our beliefs. Your example of pointing a gun at someone is an extreme case where people would be fully aware of the "incentive" but most of the time incentives that play a role in "changing minds" are "smooth operators".
Fear of being considered an Evil Person (like in a Hitler analogy) is a smooth operator.
Fear of being an object of someone's aggression can also be a smooth operator.
Taller self-confident people with a deeper voice are more persuasive than people who lack the same attributes but convey the same message. Moreover, we would consider the difference between these two people as a difference in *persuasion* (one person being more persuasive than the other) even though the content of the message (and its arguments) are the same.
The reason I emphasize changing "behavior" rather than "minds" when persuasion is concerned is an evolutionary one: we evolved to persuade each other but the reason why persuading is an evolved feature of human nature is ultimately because it has out-of-the-head consequences. Since it has to influence biological fitness it cannot simply be about the "mind". Changing minds has to be reflected in what we do. A desire to persuade someone of something could be part of our evolved nature only because the outcome of "persuasion" can be manifested in behavior.
Consider a Twin Earth where people "change minds" due to other people's persuasion but the consequences of "changing minds" are not reflected in a person's behavior. In Twin Earth, the practice of persuading wouldn't be a product of natural selection.
P.S. I greatly benefited from the discussions at the Budapest Summer School in 2014. organized by Nic Baumard. Merry Christmas!
Dear Professor, As always, it's a pleasure to read your article! Merry Christmas 🌲☃️and Happy New Year! My hope is that unjust war in Ukraine and in Gaza will end in 2025 and evil is destroyed!🙏
Happy Christmas 🎄!
I'd love to read a piece exploring why people find it so hard to say "thanks, but no". I've noticed it when trying to get a builder to take on a job (they say they're interesed then dont return calls, or don't show up). In social situations I see people say they are interested in a social event when it seems clear to me they are not really interested, then make a excuse at the last minute or don't show up. I think the builder example is more strategic, the social one more to do with ot wanting to upset people,but I do think there is usually a mixture of both. The example of the NY times article likely involves both motivations.
I suppose this is part of a broader question,which is "why don't people say what they really think"
I wonder if the difficulty of saying “thanks but no” is due to the norms around reciprocity. My understanding is that many cultures make it somewhat taboo to decline positive reciprocity. This is because reciprocity is a fickle thing and easily switches from positive to negative - for example via the perceived slight of receiving a very lacklustre response. The entire community therefore puts pressure on to ensure this doesn’t happen (because an outbreak of negative reciprocity is often extremely damaging to the community as a whole). Just some thoughts - I’m going through an extended René Girard phase and he has very interesting ideas around reciprocity.
“Why don’t people say what they think” is another interesting question. I think it generally has to do with asymmetry of risk - one of the main risks being accidentally creating negative reciprocity. For example, there are many ways to be uncouth - and relatively few to be polite. If you say what you really think, there’s a decent chance you will upset someone. And there’s a decent chance that someone will create a problem out of it (especially on the internet!).
thanks for the really interesting response! Yes I think youre right that the cost of saying no in a clear way is too high - having thought about it some more, I dont think Id like it if someone said "thanks, but I dont really feel like it" . Maybe the situation we have works well, where people say "yes" in a way that still signals a lack of enthuiasm which is later converted into a half-baked excuse for not showing up - it seems annoyingly indirect to me when it happens, but may be the most adaptive way to do it as it always leaves enough ambiguity to save face for both parties.
In the casy of the NYT article, I think its much more likely to be a tatic that editors use, similar to the self-employed contractor - keep as many options open as possible and the cost of alienating the client is not that high.
Seems to me that arguing – like most activities – exists on a spectrum of bullshittery. When a mathematician writes a proof, the demand to restrain bullshit is exceedingly high. On the other end of the spectrum we might have, say, a car salesperson going through tough times. And in the middle of the spectrum our own thought processes meander along (for example, at this very moment I'm trying to discern whether my writing constitutes bullshit or not). But by revising our arguments, and exposing them to criticism, we sharpen them and shift them towards rationality (and then - hopefully - persuasiveness).
But what about the claim that the *nominal intent* of an interlocutor is bullshit? For example, is the mathematician *really* interested in discovering truth – or are they more interested in bolstering their reputation, producing another paper, finding an algebraic conduit for domestic frustrations, etc. Humans are complex and multifaceted – can we say anything with confidence? As demonstrated by the institution of judicial due process, our insights into intentions are often unreliable - and though we may feel cynical about intentions, failures to reach common ground always captivate us more than successes (and the presumption of ill-intent is often all-too-convenient).
But it's actually largely irrelevant what an interlocutor's intentions are. For example, lawyers are not especially known for honesty, transparency, and truth seeking, but pit two brilliant lawyers against each other and we will generally arrive at a reliable verdict – because of the mediation of the judge and jury. This true wherever disputes are mediated by third parties – sciences, politics, family gatherings, and so on. Although it's desirable (and efficient) for interlocutors to moderate themselves, it's not necessary for the argument to be extremely valuable. In fact, it's generally the responsibility of a third party to be perspicacious to bullshittery, to prevent violence, and – perhaps most importantly – to celebrate combatants for their valiant effort (regardless of actual intent, or even performance). Some people have internalised this "third party perspective" to the extent that they are pleasant, courteous interlocutors yet uncompromisingly fierce in their argumentation. These are amongst the most valuable kinds of people a society can produce – they will switch from raging intensity to placid laughter with the glimmer of an eye (although that doesn't mean they have won the argument!).
What is important about the "third party perspective" is that it harnesses the intentions of the interlocutors to produce something of value to the society (even if that value is a demonstration of how *not* to argue). The third party protects the interlocutors from excessive risk – both physically (by preventing violence) and reputationally (by celebrating their valiance regardless of outcome). These practices constitute a fruitful tradition of arguing – something Karl Popper calls a "tradition of criticism" (which he believes characterises the Enlightenment). This tradition provides an enormous vehicle for the sharpening of arguments – a vehicle which slowly but surely sifts the wheat from the chaff. We have a responsibility to protect and further it. Furthermore, to the extent that we ourselves have internalised this tradition of criticism, we become our own third parties – either in the moment or upon later reflection.
Therefore while the intentions of interlocutors are often grey, this does *not* mean that arguing is bullshit – so long as *someone else* is watching from the "third party" perspective (perhaps Future You, Future Them, Present You, Present Them, your cat, God, the jury, your parents, everyone at the dinner table, the Target Audience, etc, etc). The only argument guaranteed to end in bullshit is the argument in a perfect vacuum – and, as social creatures, it's rather difficult to live in a perfect vacuum. I think deep down most people intrinsically know this...
So perhaps in the moment an argument is bullshit - but so long as we (individually and collectively) use our capacity to reflect upon our arguments, they needn’t remain so. To the extent we are cognisant of this, our arguments will probably be less likely to be bullshit - even in the moment.
What do you think? Complete bullshit?
PS: One last thought is that the intent of an interlocutor ideally ought to be truth seeking or error correction, rather than persuasion. Advanced bullshit - such as advertising - can be highly persuasive and yet entirely orthogonal to reality.
Love you, Paul, but Bob won the Biden debate... 😀