Misinformation, Part 1
Read the introduction here.

Decisions, Teams, and News

Thread 1: Decisions

Early on, I read something that blew my mind. It was an insight that seemed to apply to everything, and once you read this, you'll see it everywhere, too.

I read it here: “The Righteous Mind” by Jonathan Haidt. Easily one of the most paradigm-shifting books I’ve ever read.

**

Imagine your brain has two parts: the elephant and the rider. The older, more emotional, non-verbal part is the elephant, and the newer, more rational, verbal part is the rider. You can picture the elephant—big, strong, and smart—on the bottom and the rider perched on top. Together, they help steer us, one way or another, by the decisions they make.

A quick sketch, curtesy of my ReMarkable.

**

The elephant is a kind of emotional cognition: a pattern-matching process drawing from deep in the subconscious. For millions of years, people made judgement calls—whom to trust, what to eat, whether to approach or avoid—without words. In short, the elephant was in charge.

In recent times, the newer part of our brain—the rider—also contributes. It forecasts future events, considers other points of view, and weighs the pros and cons.

But here's the mind-blowing part: when the rider appeared, the elephant did not just hand over the reins to a new and inexperienced charioteer. When we make a decision, the elephant lights up first—the rider second. The call's been made, largely, by time the rider gets involved; and though it can sometimes intervene, often, it’s just along for the ride.

So then, why the rider? Because it does something useful for the elephant: explain its decisions to other people. "Judgement and justification are separate processes," says Haidt.

Next time you read the news, "notice the little flashes of emotion you feel." Emotions—like anger, relief, condemnation, and pride—are forms of judgment. That's the elephant. When you tell your spouse what's gotten you so worked up, that's the rider.

**

After learning this, I started to see it everywhere. My husband and I are big fans of Alone, a program where participants try to survive in the wilderness—by themselves—for as long as possible. At first, participants are super motivated to win and get the cash prize. But when they start to struggle, you see this dynamic play out: the elephant wants to leave, and the rider finds the reasons why.

Many seasons are shot in the wildest of places—like local Vancouver Island.

**

Participants have quit early for so many reasons: "A family member might have had an emergency," they say, or they don't need the money after all. From the outside, it seems obvious: they are struggling, and they want to go home.

Here's another example from Haidt's book that, for me, was a bit more relatable. One morning, his wife chided him for leaving dirty dishes on the counter. When she started talking, Haidt felt a flash of annoyance; by the time she'd finished, he had a counter-argument ready. The baby was crying, he told her, and our old, incontinent dog needed to go out.

It worked, and Haidt was acquitted. But only afterwards did he realize what he'd done; yes, the baby had cried, and the dog scratched at the door, but not at once. Haidt's elephant had bristled at his wife's accusation, and his rider helped explain it all away.

**

Thread 2: Teams

So, how does this connect to city hall? See mind-blowing moment number two:

If you think the rider reasons to figure out the truth, “you'll constantly be frustrated by how foolish, biased, and illogical people become when they disagree with you.” writes Haidt. “But if you think about reasoning as a skill we humans evolved […] to justify our own actions and to defend the teams we belong to—then things will make a lot more sense.”

Why teams? Apparently, evolution works on two levels: individual and group. Individuals do their best to survive and compete against each other, and at the same time, groups compete against groups.

Human nature was shaped by this evolutionary duo. The individual vs. individual part gave us, some would say, the uglier side of our nature—and "we are the descendants of chimps that excelled at this competition," says Haidt. The group vs. group part gave us the more altruistic side. You can see this when people make sacrifices for the group—in wartime, say, or for a social cause.

But our altruism has its limits. When researchers increased the amount of oxytocin—popularly known as "the love drug"—in a group of men, they behaved more benevolently when playing games, but only with their teammates. In short, we can be compassionate and altruistic, yes, when it benefits our team, our tribe—but don't expect us to act this way with everyone.

The framework of a team can apply in many instances: companies, communities, or countries, for example. In the US government, at the federal level, two teams—Democrats and Republicans—literally sit across the aisle.

When I read Haidt’s quote, one piece of the puzzle clicked into place. In the debate I’d witnessed at city hall, it was the Mayor's party that had originally backed natural gas. And when conflicting evidence emerged, he doubled down—only hearing the pro-gas arguments and defending his party’s position.

Standing up for the team can be a good thing: if anyone criticizes my brother-in-law, his wife is quick with a comeback. But it can also obfuscate the truth. Being part of a team—say, liberals or conservatives—"binds and blinds," says Haidt. And nowhere is this more apparent than in the news.

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Thread 3: The News

All this is not to say our elephants are leading us off track: with personal issues—what life move to make next, whether to do the deal or stay in a relationship—they can very wise. But when it comes to global issues, like the ecological crisis—which requires mounds of data to fully understand—our elephants may not be as well equipped. Especially if their sample size is skewed.

**

"We're not the same, you know," said my mentor.

We were wandering around Amsterdam—it was dark, and the rows of trees lining the old brick buildings were adorned with white Christmas lights.

"I know," I said carefully. But I resented the statement: we had just spent hours together without taking a breath. There was a lot we had in common, despite some differing opinions…

… like climate change.

Years ago, I'd met my mentor through work. Slowly, I began to ask him for advice. "As my mentor..." I'd say. Eventually, he took it in stride. "As your mentor..."

My mentor is one of the most empowered people I've ever met. He's never stopped growing: overcoming difficult family circumstances, starting companies, and beating cancer. He's always given me great advice—on life, work, and love—and I trust him completely.

So naturally, I came to him with the cause I most wanted to work on: climate change.

But I didn’t expect he’d be so skeptical.

**

By pointing out our differences, my mentor meant to say that we play for different teams. I, for the liberals, and he for the conservatives. And lately, it seems the two can't see eye to eye.

The reason may lie, in part, in how we get our news. Half a century ago, millions of people tuned in to the same broadcasts and, thus, shared a common ground for current events. Today, news has been fragmented. And “when you can cherry pick the things that you want to listen to and consume, [...] you get a splintering of reality,” says Josh Szeps.

News is now digital-first—and what gets views is king. “The easiest way to grab peoples' attention and keep them glued to the screen,” says Noah Yuval Harari, “is to press the greed, or hate, or fear buttons.” And dry reporting, while factual, may not press the buttons as well as an opinion piece can.

Once, I asked my mentor what news he read. He pointed me to a site I'd never heard of: The Epoch Times. Curious, I took a look and typed in "climate change." Clicking on the first result, I was surprised to see it compared to religion: all faith, no fact. My anger button pressed to the max, I read the whole thing before realizing it was an opinion (noted in tiny print, no less).

It's been said that Fox popularised partisan news, but many more have followed suit. Thinking of the elephant and the rider, it occurred to me that we were vulnerable to this trend in more ways than one. If our riders—reasoning—evolved, in part, to “defend ourselves and the teams we belong to,” it makes sense that we're drawn to news that does just that. And this, in turn, affects the data our elephants draw on.

Phew. Partway through this DIY master’s theme, I was beginning to regret my choice of topic. Reading about misinformation had me discouraged and down. Environmental issues are so complex, and if more and more news rationalizes to defend an entrenched position—what chance do we have to collaborate, much less concede and change our minds?

And it gets even more complicated when you factor in social media.

Part 2

Information Networks & Misunderstandings