Short and Sharp: A History of Dishonesty

Recently I was involved in a discussion about a claim that was made by Noam Chomsky in his Melbourne lecture. He stated that if the US implemented a public healthcare program similar to other first world nations, they would wipe out their yearly deficit. After much back and forth and number crunching by the ever-patient Dylan Nickelson, it was concluded that this claim is factually wrong. After this, I found myself doubting some of the other claims made by Chomsky. Not that I have outright rejected them; just that I have the feeling that if he had made a mistake on this claim, he might be wrong on other claims too. This is not to say that my feeling is justified or should apply in any intellectual way, but I do think it warrants a discussion.

It seems quite obvious where this feeling would come from; in social settings, an individual’s past history of honesty/dishonesty is generally a good predictor of future behaviour (well, better than chance guessing at any rate). The issue would be whether or not this predictive value translates into the academic world and if it does, whether it should affect analysis of the individual’s future arguments.

I can see two main reasons why an individual would make either a mistaken or intentional false claim; lack of rigorous research and agenda/ideological bias. In both cases, there appears to be the potential for future occurrences; with lack of rigorous research, it implies a lazy methodology and with agenda/ideological bias, it implies that they have a reason to bend or change facts to suit their views.

So the question then becomes ‘how does this affect analysis of a dishonest individual’s claims?’. The most obvious consequence may be a lower threshold for triggering investigation into the validity of their claims. Another possibility is that less in-depth research is required to debunk the individual’s claim; for example, if one or two sources you consult contradict a claim made by a dishonest individual, it is probably wrong as opposed to requiring more for a previously honest individual.

In bringing up these reasons as to why individuals may be dishonest and what should occur because of it, my suggested points of view are more meant as just that; suggestions. I would welcome input from anyone on the following two questions; does a past history of wrong claims by an individual mean that other claims they have made are likely wrong and in what way does this alter how we interact with their claims?

Short and Sharp: What if you're wrong?

If you are familiar with the evangelical style of Ray Comfort and Kurt Cameron, then you will be familiar with the question “what if you’re wrong?”. For those of you who are not, it is a tactic that attempts to highlight in the minds of atheists the repercussions if they are wrong about the existence of the god that Comfort and Cameron believe in (i.e. that the atheist will go to Hell). I have seen many refutations of this argument (which is essentially Pascal’s Wager), however, I am going to actually do the opposite; I think it is a valid question in certain contexts and should be answerable by any person about any belief that they hold.

To demonstrate why I think this is the case, I would like to modify a scenario used by Richard Carrier in his book, Sense and Goodness Without God;  

Suppose a friend told you they had purchased a new car, would you believe them? As this is a fairly unremarkable claim (many people own cars), it would require very little evidence for you to believe them, perhaps even just their word alone. However, suppose now that you were relying on this friend to drive you to a very important meeting. Would you be willing to rely on just their word or would you require more evidence now that the claim has the potential to impact upon your life? If you believe them, and they are wrong (either by lying or just being misinformed; say they thought the car would be ready for their use on that day, but it was delayed), you are now stuck without a way to get your meeting.

The point that I am trying to drive at is that the amount of evidence needed to support a claim is not simply just how ordinary or extraordinary the claim is, but also how much of an impact the claim’s truth or falseness will have. Claims that will have very little effects require less evidence than claims that will have profound effect, all other things being equal. The way in which Comfort and Cameron use this question is still wrong; in that, they are essentially throwing in a possibility, Hell, which has such a low probability of actually existing that it isn’t worth considering. As such, the question is only valid when used in the context of known negative outcomes. However, when used in this way, it is very useful at highlighting how effects can impact upon our evidential standards.

'Ethical' Egoists

While watching the season finale of Grey’s Anatomy recently, I was reminded of my general distain for ‘ethical’ egoists. These are people who believe it is okay to do what is in the best interests for themselves and their in-group (family, friends, lovers etc.), even if it leads to the otherwise preventable harm of others. As such, it is kind of a very shallow version of ethical egoism; the branch of moral philosophy that says that moral agents should act in their own self-interest. While the actual theory is a lot more detailed than my one sentence summary indicates, I still believe it has problems.

To demonstrate my problem with ‘ethical’ egoists, I’ll explain the scenario that occurred in the episode. Earlier in the season, Meredith had switched a placebo for an active drug in an Alzheimer’s clinical trial she was a part of. This was due to the fact that the patient who was to get the placebo was close to her. In the finale, her deception is revealed and the shit hits the fan. This is because it is a randomised clinical trial; the doctors do not get to assign who gets the active therapy and who gets the placebo. This prevents them from, either intentionally or unintentionally, giving the active treatment to patients they believe are more likely to recover anyway and skewing the results (i.e. making the treatment look better than it really is). So Meredith tampering with who gets the treatment invalidates the whole trial. Now, even after she is informed of this and how now no one will get access to the new drug (due to the trial not being able to go ahead, so it can’t be demonstrated to be effective) she still says she would do it again because it was a person who meant so much to her.

This sort of attitude (which is not at all uncommon) really drives me up the wall; effectively Meredith, and others in similar situations, are giving a big middle finger to everyone else just to help someone they care about. It really shows how self-centred someone is that they can’t step back and realise that while they are trying to help someone they love, so is everyone else. In the case of Meredith, she wanted to help someone she loved, but at the same time prevented hundreds of others from helping their loved ones.

I also ran into a similar phenomenon during an ethics class in my undergrad course; we were given the following scenario and asked whether we thought the decision in it was moral (paraphrased from memory);

An earthquake occurs in China and buries a man’s family in rumble. In the process of digging them out, he discovers that across the road an important official and his family are buried. The man decides to stop trying to rescue his family and rescue the official and his family instead. He successfully rescues them, but his own family die in the process. When asked why he made the choice that he did, he said that by rescuing the official, he could go on to coordinate the rescue effort (by virtue of having extensive knowledge of the local area) and end up saving more people.

Now, as a utilitarian, I said that the action was moral because it could effectively save more lives (increasing the overall well-being). Now while the majority did say they while they would have saved their family had they been in the situation but respected the man for thinking of others (a position I don’t find unacceptable), a small minority believed that he had acted immorally and should have saved his family (invoking duty to family primarily). After some discussion back and forth, I presented them with a new hypothetical to try to demonstrate the point I was trying to make;

A serial killer has you locked in a chair. In front of you is your family in a cage, ten families you do not know in another. You are given the choice of who dies; either your family or the ten families. Which would you choose?

I thought that this scenario was entirely black and white; that only a monster would say that it was moral to choose their family. However, I was wrong. Not only did these individuals say they would choose their families, they were defending it as the moral choice. I mean, I could understand someone saying that they aren’t strong enough to do the right thing, but to actually believe that ten other families dying so yours can survive is moral is downright insane. Could these people not understand that each of those families had people who loved them just as much as they loved their families? What makes them think that their love for their family trumps everyone else’s?

A bit more of a rant than usual, but there it is.

Being wrong for the right reasons

In a discussion recently with a fellow atheist, I was asked which of the two following options I would prefer; a world full of rational Christians/Muslims/Jews etc. or a world full of irrational atheists. After a brief moment of thought, I responded that I would prefer the rational religious to the irrational atheists. This perplexed my friend, who said that they would prefer the opposite. They couldn't seem to understand why, given that we are both atheists, would I choose a world where everyone is wrong (from our point of view). My response is the topic of this post.

I place a higher value on the method upon which people reach their conclusion (i.e. reason, logic, evidence etc.) rather than whether the conclusions they reach are correct (or whether they match my own conclusions). This is because, if someone is at least willing to base their views off the same method as mine (or society in general), we can actually have a valid discussion of the issue. A person who rejects reasoned argument and evidence as a source of truth can’t be reasoned with.

This brings us back to the original hypothetical; while the irrational atheists agree with a single conclusion I have drawn, the fact that they use an alternative method for deducing it (say blind faith; accepting a claim as true regardless of the evidence for or against it) means they are more likely to have false views in other areas (politics, science etc.). And being that the theists in this hypothetical are using reason and logic to come to their opinions, they are more likely to have better opinions in these areas. So I would much rather a world where people came to the wrong conclusion on the topic of whether a god exists or not, but were still using the preferable method of coming to other conclusions.

An analogy of what I mean can be found in mathematics classes; from my experience, teachers would give marks on tests if you used the right formulas, but made an error in calculation (and therefore had the wrong answer). Some teachers would even go so far as to not give full marks for a question if working was not shown, even with the right answer. This is pretty much exactly what I mean; it is better to use the right formula, make a mistake in calculation and come to the wrong answer than to use no formula at all and get the answer right by chance.