In a free society, tolerance means that individuals put up with ideas and actions that they don’t necessarily agree with. Evelyn Beatrice Hall famously expressed the Voltairean principle as “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.” Every free citizen is at liberty to act as they please, as long as they don’t infringe on the freedoms of others.
Tolerance does not imply freedom from consequences. Don’t do stupid things or say hurtful words and expect others to be okay with it. And if you intentionally make false statements that cause harm to others, tort laws may catch up with you.
The ‘paradox of tolerance’ refers to the idea that when a society is tolerant without limit, its ability to be tolerant is eventually destroyed by the intolerant. When ideas of intolerance are given a free rein, these ideas can take root in a critical mass of people with the power to impose their own will on the populace. Moreover, it is only a matter of time before incentives align to make this happen.
According to Karl Popper, this paradox doesn’t imply that ideas of intolerance should not be tolerated at all. Society may continue to tolerate these ideas to the extent that they can be kept in check through rational argument and public opinion — in fact, it is preferable to do so unless force is necessary.
One way to rationalize this paradox is that if you’re a tolerant person in a tolerant society, you’re playing by a set of rules and expect everyone else to do the same. Someone espousing intolerance is effectively trying to change the rules of the game. If they convince enough people to join their cause, you’re at a disadvantage because trying to stop them is against your ethos. If things get out of hand (as they’re bound to eventually, if enough people believe they will benefit), your only option is to break your own rules and shut them down.
Sadly, once you say it’s okay to break your own rules, the intolerant in positions of power will eventually take advantage of this loophole to further their own agendas.
Numbers are a human invention. As intelligent and rational creatures, we have learned to operate effectively in a world of abstract thought, where the concept of numbers goes beyond what we can count. But as humans, we cannot discount the evolutionary basis for how our apparatus works.
It turns out that numbers that are really large or really small are well-nigh impossible for us to comprehend. Upon careful inspection, this is not surprising, as comprehension is simply a form of analogy-making. We understand things when we can compare and contrast them with other things we are already familiar with. When we are presented with numbers that are very different from what we encounter in everyday experience, we have no way to make sense of them. Here are some examples:
Despite the beautiful pictures of galaxies you might have seen, the scale of the Universe is so vast that a galaxy is mostly empty space. For instance, the average density of our Milky Way galaxy — together with all its brilliant stars and planets — is conservatively estimated to be of the order of 1 kilogram over every billion cubic kilometers. If you imagine a box that spans a kilometer across on every side, magnify it a thousand million (1,000,000,000) times, and add a bag of potatoes into this box — that’s how empty our galaxy is. The space between galaxies is far emptier.
We estimate that there are 2 trillion galaxies in the observable universe. A trillion is a million million. To put that in context, a trillion is a number that is so large that removing a few millions doesn’t make much of a difference — you’re still left with about a trillion. Astronomers conservatively estimate that there are about a 100 million stars in the average galaxy, and about 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 stars in all in the observable universe. That’s one followed by 24 zeros.
Okay, now here’s a fun fact: there are more molecules of water in a few regular-sized drops than the total number of stars in the observable universe. All it takes is about a hundredth of a liter of water.
Molecules are pretty average-sized in the bigger scheme of things. The Planck length is the theoretical minimum limit to distance you can meaningfully speak of. Nothing smaller than the Planck length exists, according to present-day theory. The Planck length is so small that if you were to magnify a particle that spans the width of a human hair (~0.1 mm) to the size of the observable universe, the Planck length would itself be as big as the original size of the particle (~0.1 mm).
And finally, humans have evolved on our planet for millions of years, right? It turns out that if you overlay the Earth’s entire history until today over a 24 hour clock (midnight to midnight), single cell life forms appeared at around 4 am, multicellular organisms appeared at around 5:30 pm, and all of human history spans the last two minutes until midnight.
A false dichotomy is a logical fallacy. You may be presented with alternatives A and B, when there is at least one other alternative C that is also available. You may then be presented with arguments that force you to choose either A or B, and reach some conclusion as a consequence. The danger lurking here is that unless you actively seek out additional alternatives, you may not easily notice that you’re falling into a trap.
In classical logic, the principle of explosion says that anything may be proven from a contradiction. In Latin, this idea goes by the phrase ‘ex falso [sequitur] quodlibet’ — from falsehood, anything [follows]. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride…a true statement. And so, when you start with a false dichotomy, the conclusion you might arrive at doesn’t carry the force of logic: it may be true or it may be false; the argument itself is null and void.
In my experience, all dichotomies are false in the real world. In other words, there are always more options; you only have to look a little deeper. Often, the options presented are the extremities of reasonable ideas that actually span a spectrum of possibilities.
Society is having a hard time fact-checking politicians these days, although the roots of the problem are quite ancient. There is a natural human tendency to assign categories to things. It is very easy and very human to categorize knowledge into things you believe are true versus things you believe are false. This true-or-false dichotomy, like all others in the real world, is false. To put it in more colloquial terms, there is always some truth to what you label as false (and vice versa).
Here’s the catch, once you label something in your mind, you are psychologically less inclined to alter the label, even in light of new facts. The easiest way for someone to convince you of a falsehood is to club it together with something you already believe to be true. When you know a man to be virtuous, you’re far more likely to attribute his sins to factors outside of his control. Over time, these falsehoods build upon each other to create a warped worldview.
“The first principle is that you must not fool yourself, and you are the easiest person to fool.”
Every individual who wishes to avoid this sad fate should try to relentlessly pursue the truth, using the principle of falsifiability or refutability expounded by Karl Popper back in 1934. Falsifiability is the capacity for a statement or hypothesis to be contradicted by evidence. Here’s one way of applying this idea: you should believe something to be true only if you’ve made a good faith attempt to prove that it is false, and failed to do so despite your best efforts. This is exemplified in the ‘black swan’ argument: if someone told you that all swans are white, you should look for colored swans — not white ones — to validate the truth of the statement. Look for evidence that disconfirms your belief.
In everyday situations, you might be faced with ideas that conflict with each other, some that you are more inclined to believe than others. As a relentless pursuer of truth, your objective should be to identify the most believable ideas, and look for evidence that these ideas are wrong. By critiquing the ideas you wish to believe, you make them more robust, understand the nuances and half-truths, and end up with something that is far closer to the truth than where you started. The truth will not make you feel warm and fuzzy, but it will be grounded in reality.
“-Ism’s in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an -ism, he should believe in himself.”
—Ferris Bueller, in ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’
There are many forces in the world that polarize opinion, creating more of the same false dichotomies that we want to avoid in social discourse. Social media platforms have made it easy to reach millions of people and convey information — and misinformation — in real time, reinforcing the beliefs of opposing camps.
For instance, we hear debates about capitalism versus socialism (sometimes incorrectly equated with communism). Both of these are unrealistic models, figments of our imagination. In practice, every sovereign nation has to adopt policies that may be inspired by either model, or maybe something else altogether.
The real debates usually need to be on the merits and demerits of specific policies. People with ulterior motives are inclined to assign labels to these policies and associate them with existing factions. For instance, in a debate on government-sponsored healthcare, one side may be painted as being ‘socialist’, even though the actual debate is far more nuanced. Interestingly, it is easy to recognize this kind of labeling when it works against us, but when it works in our favor, we might be quick to assume it’s because we’re right.
That is the most dangerous time of all — when we are starting to believe we are right, but haven’t yet looked for evidence countering our belief.
Dr. Syed Moin Hassan is a sleep medicine fellow at Brigham and Women’s Hospital. In this podcast on NPR, Dr. Hassan explains that each person has their own sleep cycle, or circadian rhythm. Like hair color, this cycle is determined by genetics. Light falling on the retina every morning helps synchronize the cycle, and helps the brain figure out when to instruct the pituitary gland to secrete melatonin, the hormone that puts you to sleep.
There is another element to sleep called the homeostatic sleep drive. In layman terms, this is an accumulation of waste products in the brain during waking hours, that eventually needs to be ‘cleaned up’ during sleep. Adenosine is one such waste product that drives sleep pressure.
For good quality sleep, these two cycles need to be in lockstep with each other. For some people, that means going to bed late, and not waking up early in the morning.
For a while, I’d been craving this dessert I could recall from years ago: bread soaked in sugar syrup. It’s a bit like bread pudding, judging from the bread pudding I had recently. Last month, I decided to take the plunge and make it myself. It seemed easy enough. You bring some sugar water to boil until it becomes a syrup, soak freshly toasted bread in it, and that’s it!
Unfortunately, my theory was way off. For one thing, I wasn’t sure how well-done the toast had to be. After all, making good toast is quite an art. I soaked the bread for too long and it became soggy. But the main surprise was with the sugar. For some reason, I decided to use brown sugar instead of the regular white variety. The end result…tasted a bit funny, to be honest. On the bright side, I think Anu liked it after all, so it wasn’t a complete waste of effort.
Fast-forward to last week: Anu offered to make शाही टुकड़ा (shahi tukda). As some of you may know, that’s also a dessert, also a lot like bread pudding, but with condensed milk. Burnt as I was by my recent experience, I cautiously offered my moral support as she made the syrup. It was at this point that I realized we were out of bread.
There was, of course, a good explanation for this state of affairs. You see, bread has a short shelf life (in our case, kitchen counter life). I’d become a bit too enthusiastic about cleaning for the New Year, and had thrown out the last loaf just the day before. In any case, I ran out to buy some bread.
Trade Joe’s had a long line of people waiting to enter the store. Bummer, but no surprises there. I drove to our regular QFC in Wallingford and was stymied by yet another line! Maybe it had something to do with it being New Year’s Eve and all that. Should I try the corner grocery store in Wallingford? I’d never found anything I needed in there, but maybe today was opposite day? Darn, no luck. Finally, I drove to the Safeway on University Ave, my last hope. The building was gone.
That’s right, the entire building had been razed to the ground for redevelopment. I took this as a sign and returned home empty-handed. No dessert for you!
You’re strolling down the city market one day, when a tall, well-dressed man in a dark suit blocks your way. “Psst!” he says, “I have a great proposition for ya!” He takes you aside into a small but swanky shop, where he has you seated on a nice couch, orders someone to fetch you a cool drink, and explains that he has these magic beans that are of immense value. You’re skeptical but intrigued, and ask, “Ok, so what do they do?”. “Oh!” he says, “These beans are absolutely amazing! Take a look at these smooth shiny edges and the roundness…so perfect and balanced!”
He then proceeds to tell you the story of his aunt who struggled to raise him, and how thrilled she was when he acquired these magic beans for her. By the end of the story, he seems almost tearful and lost in thought. You’re a bit confused, as you have a vague sense that he didn’t answer the question, but you decide to bite. “Alright, how much are you selling them for?” For a second, he gives you a puzzled look, and then exclaims, “Oh! I’m sorry, I’m not actually selling these. Did I mention I bought these for my aunt? My poor aunt passed away last month, and I shall keep these in her memory. And anyway, these are the last few beans in my possession, and they’re all the rage today. Why, even my lazy neighbor Joe managed to get hold of some. I have to say, I’m so glad you caught this train just in time! The price of these beans is going to skyrocket. There’s no doubt about it!”
Now you’re more confused than ever, even a bit flummoxed. “Listen, if you don’t want to sell these magic beans, then why am I here?” He sighs and shakes his head. “Listen, friend, it’s so hard to come across honest and hardworking people these days, and it breaks my heart that opportunities like these pass you by while people like Joe become rich.” (You’re reminded of one of your co-workers that you always despised.) He continues, “I want to help you, I really do, and I hope to God I’m not too late! I know a guy…they call him Jack…he can acquire more of these magic beans for you. He’s a bit…difficult, but I’m sure I can persuade him — for you — to part with a few. I mean, it’s only fair that you get a share of this pie, and he’s a reasonable guy.”
You chitchat for a bit longer. Once or twice, you attempt to talk more seriously about what the magic beans actually do, but he has all these interesting stories to tell about the history of the beans that it’s hard to keep up. At some point, he enthusiastically brings out a chart showing the trading price of the beans — a closely guarded secret, apparently — and how it’s gone through many ups and downs, but has been zooming up over the past year. “This is it, this is the year we’re going to become millionaires!” he says joyously and laughs uproariously. The laughter is infectious and you can’t help joining in.
You eventually head home, but not before promising to follow up on buying a dozen or so of the beans. Once you get home, you look them up on the Internet and find a great many stories of people getting rich, but very little that explains what the magic beans actually do. But the guy was right: there did seem to be a lot of people who had managed to get their hands on these beans, and were thrilled to have them. Surely, they couldn’t all be wrong? You try to call up your local authorities to ask about magic beans, but they’re surly and unhelpful, except to remind you that you’d better account for them in your tax returns when you become rich.
You eventually get in touch with Jack over the phone, and he hums and haws for a bit before finally agreeing to sell a dozen magic beans to you for the special discounted price of $1300 per bean. He is reluctant, but admits that it’s for a good cause. “Spread the joy, my friend!” he says, before promising the beans would arrive by registered mail within a week.
When the magic beans finally arrive, you’re so relieved! For a few days there, you’d begun to wonder if it was all a scam. But now you can touch and feel the magic beans in your hand. Such smooth edges, beautiful, balanced…and indeed, the price had only gone up over the past week.
If there is one thing that you learn from Bill Kovach and Tom Rosenstiel’s book The Elements of Journalism, it is that the challenges journalism faces today in the digital information age are, in many ways, the same ones that it has faced over the past two centuries. As the so-called Fourth Estate, it is unsurprising that the powers that be would attempt to wrest this institution into subservience. And as the political landscape has evolved, and new technology has emerged, the means of assault have changed, but the aims of this long-running struggle have remained the same.
The authors begin with an explanation of what journalism is, by clarifying what it is not. The primary purpose of journalism is to provide citizens with the information they need to be free and self-governing. This distinguishes it from entertainment, or entertainment-posing-as-journalism. Its first obligation is to the truth and its first loyalty is to citizens. Ah, the truth! That’s where things start getting complicated. While some might throw up their hands and claim that the truth is subjective and ultimately unknowable, journalistic truth is far more pragmatic but still effective – it is the outcome of a discipline of verification. To put this differently, a true journalist is committed to understanding and sharing the truth, and they trust in the journalistic process of verification to ensure that they are not blinded by their own biases. Objectivity, in this sense, is not about eliminating personal biases, but relying on the integrity of the process to elevate the truth above all else.
The use of the term citizens is intentional, contrasted against the idea of consumers. Citizens have a responsibility towards free society, whereas consumers look out for their own interests. Citizens are active, whereas consumers are passive. Journalism is the process of community-building with the participation of vigilant and engaged citizens. Journalism is a conversation with citizens that helps them understand matters that are important for them to know. A free press is a barometer for the democratic values of society.
The authors dispel some common myths about journalism. The goal of a good journalist is not to simply state facts, but to interpret and synthesize facts into a true understanding of the world. A good journalist builds trust with readers by explaining how they reached their conclusions, and what relevant ideas they discarded along the way. The discipline of verification thus extends to readers and good citizens, and the journalist’s job is to provide transparency into their methods to help readers question and validate their conclusions. Good journalism need not be ‘balanced’ when the truth is not – attempting to be ‘balanced’ when the facts paint a clear picture otherwise is a form of dishonesty. Good journalism does not need to shy away from opinion, but it must be clear about the line between substantiated fact and unsubstantiated opinion.
The Elements of Journalism is thought-provoking, in that it raises deep questions about the future of society. For democracy to thrive in a seemingly post-truth age, the discipline of verification must ultimately be adapted to work with the rapid production and dissemination of information that modern technology makes possible. While we may not be able to prevent misinformation from being distributed through social networks, what we may be able to do instead is dampen its adverse consequences, by offering people transparency into the methods of production and helping them verify for themselves the trustworthiness of sources.
In the grand old tradition of welcoming the New Year, I hereby roll out the red carpet for 2021, and *ahem* restore balance to the Universe by restarting my blog. This might well be the fifteenth time that I’ve categorically decided to commit myself to writing regularly. And a brand new year is just the right kind of kick in the pants to persuade me to jump in! On a more serious note, I believe there are good reasons for making the attempt, even when the goal seems unachievable.
First and foremost is the fitting cliché that life is about the journey, not the destination. The relentless pursuit of an ideal does not assume that we would ultimately reach it; rather, the ideal shines brightly as a beacon of hope, a call to action. We get satisfaction in the ‘how’ not the ‘what’. We seek the thrill of experience, not accomplishment.
Second, I imagine writing as a form of self-expression that records memories I can look back on fondly on some future date. I have always enjoyed seeing myself through the lens of my old posts — few and far in-between as they might have been — and marveling at how I was a completely different person not so many years ago. Finding these fragments of who I was and stitching them together is a way of finding my own identity. Your identity is not who you are, but the sum total of everyone you have ever been.
And finally, I enjoy wholesome debates (but not those limited to 280 characters!) and cherish the possibility of my blog sparking interesting ideas and healthy discussions.
The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come to pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Mountains of Mist. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.