Political Animals

"I wish nothing but good; therefore, everyone who does not agree with me is a traitor and a scoundrel."

King George III of the United Kingdom, born June 4, 1738

What motivates this blog post is the quote from King George III above, which appeared on one of my Pinterest boards: Dobson's Improbable Quote of the Day for June 4. It had a lot of resonance for me: while George III said it aloud, a lot of people — including me — feel that way, at least from time to time. I didn't aim it at left or right, because that particular feeling is independent of which side of the fence you fall on.

Within a minute or two of sharing the link on Facebook, a comment appeared: "Substitute 'racist' for 'traitor,' and you have Barack Obama." I deleted it at once and sent a message to the poster explaining my desire to keep politics off my wall.

It was some hours before I checked Facebook again. Obviously, that quote had triggered strong political reactions, because now I had two political comments: "Didn't realize the tea party was so old," and "Still the official motto of the Republican party?" People on both sides clearly saw this quote as describing the attitudes of their political opponents.

- * -

There are, I think, few things in the world more useless than having a political argument on Facebook. There are never any winners, only losers to one degree or another. Those who've known me for a long time know I am a man of passionate political opinions, with an unfortunate tendency to use scorched earth rhetoric when provoked — and I provoke more easily than I should. This tends not to end well.

One of the most popular posts in this history of this blog appeared March 2, 2010: You're Not Being Reasonable. In that post, I tried to establish some objective standards for reasonableness in political discussions, virtually all of which I've violated at one time or another. The cost of those violations has been high: I've lost several friendships I valued. Mind you, it takes two to tango, but my own behavior is the only thing I can control, and I look at my own lapses of reasonableness and decorum as cause for shame and embarrassment.

My obsession with cognitive biases (collected in my personal magazine Random Jottings 6) and argumentative fallacies (only partially done, and on my ever-growing list of projects to complete One Of These Days) has done a lot to convince me of the futility of political argument.  Confirmation bias  alone, the tendency to interpret information in a way that conforms to your preexisting beliefs, derails most discussions before they get started. None of us can shake personal bias altogether, but we can work to limit its effects on our thinking.

Because of the operation of cognitive bias (I include my own bias as well as that of others), I can't think of a single situation in which someone's mind has been changed through a Facebook argument, or indeed through an argument of any kind. When I have changed my mind, it's not because of someone's argument but rather someone's behavior or personal actions, or my evolving understanding of the world around me. If I have changed someone else's mind, it is for the same reasons.

- * -

My social media activity is a combination of personal and professional. A lot of my Facebook friends are actually friends, or at least friendly acquaintances, but many are professional relationships (LinkedIn has been pretty useless in that regard), and a surprising number are people I've actually met and gotten to know through Facebook itself. (Having grown up in science fiction fandom, I'm used to having friends I've never actually met in person.) Some of my Facebook friends have political opinions I find congenial, but a whole lot of them don't.

Mixing the personal and the professional has its dangers. For the first few years I was on Facebook, I mostly posted a daily "Dobson's Law" of project management (collected here). I learned a lot from the discussions that followed. For both personal and professional reasons, I began wishing people happy birthday on Facebook (sadly, I've neglected that in recent months), and started adding a list of shared birthdays. That led to my second blog, Dobson's Improbable History (pace Peabody), a more-or-less daily post of events and people associated with each day, which in turn supports a series of books I'm writing: The Story of a Special Day, one for every day of the year. (Only $7.95 print, $2.99 ebook — it's like a birthday card they'll never throw away!™ — adv.)

In other words, there are plenty of reasons for me to stay out of politics on Facebook.

- * -

My formative political experience was Alabama during the civil rights years. We supported civil rights in a time and place where that was an extreme minority position. My father considered marching in Selma, and only refrained because he was told his job was on the line. He was generally unafraid of confrontation and had a take-no-prisoners attitude toward those with whom he disagreed, and in that, I took after him.  I believed — and still believe — that the segregation side was not merely wrong, but evil. That's not to say I thought the people who held those beliefs were necessarily evil, but when you call someone's beliefs evil, it's hard for them not to take it personally. I didn't have a lot of friends in those days.

Strangely, however, I now call lots of the same people my friends, though in many cases my feelings about their political opinions remain unchanged. Perhaps it's the shared Stockholm syndrome experience of high school; perhaps it's simply the realization that personal history matters. I can get along with people of dramatically different beliefs, but the way to do that is to focus on what we agree on and what we share, not what separates us. At least that's the plan — the execution has been less than perfect.

Yes, I occasionally find political pieces I want to repost, or comments I feel compelled to make. I created a Facebook list of people likely to find my political positions congenial, and when I can't refrain from political comment, at least I don't feel the need to rub it in the noses of those who disagree. I also feel more free to jump into other people's Facebook discussions, especially when I agree with the original poster. After all, they brought up the subject, not me. It's rare for me to comment when someone posts an opinion I find repugnant; instead, I simply hide the most regular offenders from my timeline and thus keep my blood pressure under control.

- * -

I can never tell what posts will draw political reactions. In addition to Dobson's Improbable History and Dobson's Improbable Quote of the Day, I  also explore my fascination with maps on a Pinterest board called, oddly enough, More Fun With Maps!  I generally share them without much in the way of comment: a map should speak for itself. Some maps, however, lend themselves to one political position or another.  I avoid sharing some maps because of the likelihood of triggering a political argument, but that doesn't always do the trick. Maps I think of as fairly neutral have drawn sharply partisan responses. The same thing is true of quotes. Honestly, I didn't think the King George III quote was going to provoke this kind of reaction.

It is much easier, of course, to see the mote in thy brother's eye than the beam that is in thine own eye. We notice the horrible and disgusting things people on the other side say about our side much more clearly than the horrible and disgusting things that our fellow travelers say about them. Whatever the merits of one position over the other, none of us have clean hands when it comes to rhetorical excess. While I'm wary of false equivalence, or "both sides do it," as a general argument, in this particular case, I think it's a fair observation. I wrote this blog post, and then shared it.

The next comment was political as well: "I stand firmly for the Mugwump party."

I appreciated the sentiment. After all, politics is a Mug's game.

••••

Fifty Thousand!

 

I was pleased to discover yesterday that my Sidewise Thinking blog has now hit the 50,000 pageview mark. Last month, there were over 4,300 views, or well over 150 per day.

My first post, "What's SideWise Thinking?", appeared on April 11, 2009. It was an excerpt from the book I was currently working on, Creative Project Management (with Ted Leemann). I've generally put a new post up every Tuesday (with a big gap between July and November 2010), with topics ranging from project and risk management to my two big series on cognitive biases and decision-making disorders.

The most popular piece so far has been "You're Not Being Reasonable," on the rules of reasonable arguing. First published on March 2, 2010, it's gotten over 3,400 page views, helped primarily by a plug from the blog "LessWrong" and a StumbleUpon link.

I don't quite understand why the second most popular post is the 23rd part of my Red Herrings series, "Hume's Guillotine." First published January 24, 2012, it's gotten over 2,200 hits, but I can't find any specific factor driving traffic to that article and that one alone. Next comes "Triage for Project Managers (Part Two)" (February 8, 2011, over 1,700 hits), and "Eyewitness to Murder" (April 13, 2010, with over 1,300). Red herrings strike again with "A Cute Angle (Part 19)" (December 27, 2011, over 1,000 hits).

By comparison, my new blog, Dobson's Improbable History, which has only a little more than a month under its belt, is already exceeding 100 hits per day, with over 3,200 pageviews last month — a much better start.

This is the 149th post I've made to the blog. I made 29 entries in 2009, 31 in 2010, 52 in 2011, and 43 so far this year.

Thanks very much for reading, and I hope you continue to enjoy it.

In re Zimmerman

Stages of a Project

In project management, we frequently say that the stages of a project go like this:

1. Enthusiasm
2. Disillusionment
3. Despair
4. Panic
5. Search for the Guilty
6. Punishment of the Innocent
7. Praise for Non-Participants

The key problem comes in Step 5, “Search for the Guilty,” as opposed to the alternative, “Fix the Problem.” The overwhelming need to punish the offender outweighs the need to fix the problem.

In re Zimmerman

These days, I’ve mostly sworn off political topics. I hate that I’ve lost friends that way. But the shooting of Trayvon Martin by George Zimmerman also raises issues relevant to project management, cognitive bias, and fallacies of logic, all of which are legitimate subjects of this blog.

As is too often the case in any sensational media matter, the professional outrage machinery is in full swing. The most extreme and definite opinions on both sides receive the majority of coverage, even though they are a minority of the population, and in response, both defenders and accusers try to delegitimize the comments and opinions of those who disagree.

My goal in writing this is not to start an argument about the relative culpability of either Zimmerman or Martin — and in fact, I’d vastly prefer not to have one. There are many other places you can go to have that argument. Right now, let's look at the nature of those opinions.

In the case of Zimmerman — or, for that matter, any criminal suspect — there are four separate questions:

1. Should Zimmerman be suspected?
2. Should Zimmerman have been arrested?
3. Should Zimmerman be put on trial?
4. Should Zimmerman be convicted?

The Decision Hierarchy

Decision-making processes are normally hierarchical. There are earlier, tentative decisions we make before we reach our final conclusion. Should we, for example, do a particular project? The initial decision may be to do a feasibility study, or a pilot test. Only when those results are in will we make our final choice and commit resources to the solution.

The legal concept of level of proof is particularly meaningful. Depending on the stage of the process, different levels of proof are required to support a given decision.

Should Zimmerman be suspected? The legal standard for suspecting someone of a crime is a low bar: reasonable suspicion. This standard is based on "specific and articulable facts", "taken together with rational inferences from those facts," to distinguish it from an "unparticularized suspicion" or a hunch. In Zimmerman's case, there's no real doubt that Zimmerman shot Martin. Even Zimmerman admits as much.

In project management, a related question is whether the environment contains opportunities or problems worthy of addressing. Coming up with a target list doesn't mean you've made a final decision, so the burden of proof is low.

Should Zimmerman have been arrested? The standard for an arrest is probable cause. That standard is higher than "reasonable suspicion," but much lower than the standard required for a criminal conviction. The best-known definition of probable cause is "a reasonable belief that a person has committed a crime." Another common definition is "a reasonable amount of suspicion, supported by circumstances sufficiently strong to justify a prudent and cautious person's belief that certain facts are probably true." 

This question, not the question of whether Zimmerman is ultimately found guilty, is the core of the current controversy. Frankly, had Zimmerman been charged and tried at the time — even if he were subsequently acquitted — it’s hard to believe that this case would have ever achieved national prominence. It’s not exactly as if shootings are an uncommon occurrence in the United States.

"Probable cause" also has a role in project management. Feasibility studies aren't free, so you have to pick your shots. Establishing a proof level equivalent to "probable cause" helps you focus on the issues that matter most.

Should Zimmerman be put on trial? Prosecutors can bring charges based on no more than probable cause, but a grand jury, which reviews the case prior to trial, is supposed to make its judgment based on the preponderance of the evidence, that is, whether is charge is more likely to be true than not true. Prosecutors also have the benefit of a more comprehensive investigation than is normally performed at the time an arrest is made. The additional information may well alter an initial determination.

A full-fledged project is the equivalent of a trial, because you have to do all the work, and in the process, you may discover surprises and risks not part of the initial process. The initial project plan rests not on final determinations, but rather on the preponderance of the evidence available in the initiating and planning stages.

Should Zimmerman be convicted? Depending on the charge, two standards may apply: clear and convincing evidence, or proof beyond reasonable doubt. The first standard applies in some civil cases; the second in criminal cases. Zimmerman clearly falls into the second category. Our adversarial legal system is designed to put the strongest burden on the shoulders of those who would convict someone of a crime.

There is a final standard of proof, proof beyond a shadow of a doubt, but that is often an impossible burden to meet, so that standard doesn't apply in a criminal case. Indeed, given that there are only two people with full knowledge, and one of them is dead, the "shadow of doubt" may never be completely eliminated.

At the end of the project, the results must necessarily speak for themselves. Did you solve the issue that led to the project? Perhaps clear and convincing evidence is all you need, but sometimes a higher burden of proof rests on the project manager.

Justified and Unjustified Opinions

If there's one fundamental American right, it's the right to an opinion, but not all opinions are equal. To have a legitimate, justified opinion, you need to have some actual facts and apply an appropriate standard of proof. As long as you're clear about what stage of the decision is currently on the table, saying "yes" to one level doesn't necessarily equate to a final determination.

In an imperfect world, armed with imperfect knowledge, we cannot escape the reality that we must necessarily make some decisions and hold some opinions in advance of all the facts. And that raises the question about what makes an opinion justified and legitimate.

It's often argued that [insert side of the argument] has already convicted [Zimmerman] [Martin], rather than wait for the judicial machinery to work its course. And, of course, some extremists have already rushed to final judgment on the matter. But the vast majority of us have not.

That doesn't mean judgments, even in preliminary stages, are inappropriate. As noted, there's no reasonable doubt of the basic fact that Zimmerman shot Martin. It's hard for anyone to argue that the police should not have looked into the matter.

Can a "prudent and cautious person" reasonably conclude, at this stage of the investigation, that Zimmerman should be arrested? Clearly, the answer is yes. Even without the discredited claim of a racial slur, the 911 call, in which Zimmerman disregarded the recommendation of the dispatcher not to get out of his car, casts a "reasonable amount of suspicion" on Zimmerman's actions.

Does the preponderance of the evidence lean in favor of putting Zimmerman on trial? The Florida prosecutor assigned to the case has determined the answer to be yes, so it's not unreasonable or unjustified for an outsider to agree with it.

It's possible, and even legitimate, to have a definite opinion on the questions of arrest and trial. It's much less justified to have a definite and final opinion about Zimmerman's ultimate guilt. The standard of "reasonable doubt" has not yet been overcome, and will not be until all the evidence — including evidence presented by the defense — is out in the open.

The claim is often made that Trayvon Martin's supporters have already convicted Zimmerman, but that's an exaggeration. It's true that Martin's supporters have generally concluded that Zimmerman should be arrested and tried, but those opinions are valid at a much lower standard of proof. It's not "convicting" Zimmerman to argue that the evidence supports arrest and trial.

Bias and Judgment

When it comes to the final decision, a prudent person should be cautious. You not only need evidence, but the evidence itself often needs to be challenged and validated. But that doesn't mean you can't hold a preliminary opinion, as long as you're willing to modify it in the face of persuasive information to the contrary.

If you rate opinions about Zimmerman on a scale of 10 (certain he's guilty) to 0 (certain he's innocent), people with scores of 10 or 0 are clearly making decisions ahead of the facts. For such people, the outcome of a trial will mean nothing: if the verdict goes their way, they knew it all along, but if the verdict goes against their opinions, it will mean that the trial was rigged and thus invalid. People who are unwilling to revise their opinions in the face of new facts aren't reasonable. Fortunately, their number isn't large.

More common is people whose opinions are 8-2, strongly convinced of Zimmerman's guilt or innocence, but not so locked into their positions that persuasive contrary evidence is incapable of changing their minds. People in this category need to be extremely careful of the actions of cognitive bias in their information processing and decision process. Even if you are trying to be open-minded, once a mind's made up, inertia takes hold. Change is difficult.

People with opinions in the 4-6 range are in less danger from cognitive bias, because their opinions are inherently more tentative. In my case, I am not paying detailed attention to the story, because of the general unreliability of most of what's published at this point. That's not the same as saying I have no opinion, or that I don't lean toward one side, but I'm fully aware that the eventual factual record may not support my tentative ideas. Even so, cognitive bias can have its effects even on people of more moderate opinion, so it's important to stay on one's guard.

But that's opinions about Zimmerman's guilt. Opinions about arrest or trial fall into different standards of proof.

The Process of Proof

After watching innumerable crime shows, we all should have a pretty good idea how the police and trial process is supposed to work. When it goes according to plan, it does a reasonably good job of establishing a factual record in support of a decision. Of course, your mileage may vary.

Even if the story seems straightforward at first glance, investigators still go through the process of reconstructing the story, gathering physical evidence, and taking initial testimony. Raw evidence, of course, is of little use until it’s processed — the body examined, witnesses interviewed in detail, a timeline reconstructed, DNA tests performed, etc. In processing evidence, investigators create a story, a timeline of events and people that ideally reveals the truth of a situation.

Stories, of course, always begin as outlines, and as they take shape and form, you can fill in greater detail. Sometimes, stories surprise you, and you find yourself in an unexpected place. Minor characters (“persons of interest”) become suspects — people with motive, means, and opportunity. Some suspects are ruled out as the process moves forward; other suspects are eventually charged with a crime.

But all that assumes police and prosecutors are doing their jobs properly. To me, the most important question is not whether George Zimmerman committed second degree murder in the shooting of Trayvon Martin, but whether he should have been arrested in the first place.

What's the Real Problem?

Questions about the process will probably not be part of the trial, because it’s Zimmerman, not the police department, who is its subject. One hopes that the Justice Department investigation will address these matters. Again, I don’t claim to know the right answers. But as a management consultant, my job is to ask the right questions. Here are some things I'd like to know.

First, was the behavior of the Sanford Police Department appropriate? To measure "appropriate," consider the following: Did the department follow established protocols? Were those protocols adequate to the situation? Did any special circumstances make it more difficult to follow the protocols? What can we do about that in the future?

If protocols were not followed, why not? Are there management or organizational issues, problems with internal culture, changes in the environment, or other factors? And if so, what can we do to address those issues? Even if the more serious allegations of political interference by Zimmerman’s father (a retired Virginia magistrate) or charges of institutional racism turn out to be true, the reflexive “search for the guilty” is a much less effective response than fix the problem.

Wasting a Crisis

I have a stronger opinion about process in this case than I have about guilt. One of the facts of management consulting is that if you have a really bad outcome, you need to adjust your process as necessary to keep it from happening again.

The Sanford police were, no doubt, shocked at the public response and degree of national interest. Regardless of the assignment of fault or blame, they have to adapt to the new reality that their work will receive increasing scrutiny in the future. The 1982 Chicago Tylenol murders were clearly not the fault of the manufacturer, but the ubiquitous tamper-evident seals on all that we eat or drink date from that crime. And if they truly are at fault, then there’s all the more reason to work harder and better in the future.

Too much emphasis on determining guilt can, unfortunately, detract from the more important matter of change. In the cognitive biases series, I covered my version of the “Semmelweis Effect," the reality that peoples’ views harden when you accuse them of terrible crimes. Moral indignation can backfire, and that does no one any good.

Because it’s so easy to identify the most inflammatory and outrageous pieces on either side, it’s equally easy to miss the large amount of reasonable, proportionate commentary—also on both sides. A crisis, as has been noted, is a terrible thing to waste. That doesn’t mean we want a crisis or welcome it when it comes, but if we waste the crisis, we’re often doomed to experience it again. That’s the worst possible outcome.

It’s clear that something went terribly wrong in the Trayvon Martin case. Less clear is what went wrong, and the purpose of trial and investigation is to establish the narrative in an authoritative manner. Whether the trial and investigation accomplish that goal remains to be seen.

But it’s truly the most important part of the matter. Because once we answer that question, we can move forward to the two questions that matter in the long run:

• Why did it happen?

• And how can we keep it from happening again?

You're Not Being Reasonable!

I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve been getting myself into more online arguments about politics and religion lately, and I’m not happy with either my own behavior or others. All the cognitive biases are on display, and hardly anyone actually speaks to the other side. Unreasonableness is rampant.

The problem is that what’s reasonable tends to be subjective. Obviously, I’m going to be biased toward thinking people who agree with me are more reasonable than those lunkheads who don’t. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t objective standards for being reasonable.

To find out what those standards are, I needed to compensate for my bias, so I identified three groups of people to study.

• I looked for people I agreed with whom I thought unreasonable

• I looked for people I disagreed with whom I thought were reasonable

• I looked for people arguing about stuff I didn’t care about and picked which ones sounded more reasonable

In addition, I looked at some of the classical standards for reason, and also reviewed some of the basic communications concepts we use in business.

I learned some of the following through observation, and most of it through the contrary experience of doing it wrong. You’ve heard some of the advice elsewhere, but a reminder every once in a while comes in handy.

1. You’re not being reasonable if you don’t construct your arguments using reason.

Classical argument operates by rules. There is a proper structure for proof. Some proofs are invalid, riddled with structural errors. Failure to follow the rules of reason is, by definition, unreasonable. A good description of classical rules for arguments and a list of common fallacies can be found here.

2. You’re not being reasonable if you don’t acknowledge your own biases and blind spots.

Before you deal with the mote in your brother’s eye, deal with the plank in your own. The problem with that advice is that it’s hard, by definition, to see a blind spot. Because some biases are universal, you can at least acknowledge that you have those.

Remember too that because a decision is biased doesn’t mean it’s automatically wrong. I have a bias toward trusting people. I don’t think that’s a fundamental error; it is, however, a risk. I don’t want to get rid of the bias; I simply want to be aware of it so I can correct my own observations.

3. You’re not being reasonable if you don’t take the time to find out what the other person really means.

If there’s a misunderstanding about what they mean, remember that it is they — not you — who are the official judge of that issue. It’s fair they should acknowledge that their initials statement may have been infelicitous, but they’re entitled to revise their thoughts for greater clarity and accuracy. You have to let the old phrasing go after they change it.

In addition, reasonable people take the time to find out why their arguments are rejected, and in the future either use a different argument or at least address the identified deficiency. If you keep repeating the same argument, and fail to adjust it when you find out other people aren’t buying it, eventually you stop being reasonable. (Trying an argument a few times to work out the kinks is completely different. A failed argument can be an opportunity to do a better job next time.)

4. You’re not being reasonable if you don’t take the time to figure out why the other side believes what they believe.

While it’s instructive to define what are our differences, it’s fundamental to probe the underlying reasons why we believe it. If the difference between us is a fundamental value, it’s not subject to contrary proof by logical argument. Acknowledge the difference, and move on to the next phase, which may be walking away or getting ready to rumble.

If, on the other hand, our fight is between which of two roads is the best way to our shared destination, there’s no need to get hostile about it. One or more of us might in fact be wrong, but all have the same desire.

5. You’re not being reasonable if you don’t separate emotional outbursts from logical reasoning.

If the matter is serious enough, emotions are going to break through. It’s not practical to regard such lapses as evidence of moral failure. What does constitute failure to be reasonable is failing to curb the outbursts before they get out of hand, and failing to apologize (or failing to accept an apology, even a grudging one) when you’ve stepped over the line of good manners.

Labeling an emotional outburst an emotional outburst helps, but doesn’t undo all the potential consequences, any more than labeling a bomb “BOMB” constitutes an acceptable safety program.

6. You’re not being reasonable if you only expose yourself to one type of information.

Always read at least one news source that strongly contradicts your worldview, and make sure you understand what they actually believe and why they believe it. If you have no idea why they think what they think in the first place, what makes you believe you can come up with a persuasive argument to change their minds?

7. You’re not being reasonable if you don’t acknowledge your mistakes and apologize generously.

Factual errors, misrepresentations of the other side’s opinions, violations of good manners — people who own up quickly and generously are considered a lot more reasonable than those who don’t.

An accusation that you’ve done something wrong isn’t automatically proof that you have done so. Or maybe you did and still believe you’re justified. If there’s doubt, a good judge is someone known to be reasonable who leans toward the other side. If that person thinks you’re out of line, maybe you should listen. If a reasonable person on the other side thinks you’re being reasonable, that’s a fairly encouraging sign.

If the situation’s mixed, you can apologize for your fair share (err on the side of generosity) without having to own all the blame. If the other person tries to shove it down your throat, understand that other reasonable people will be more inclined toward you if you don’t return the aggression.

8. You're not being reasonable if you don't separate what you know from what you believe.

You don't know it if you can't prove it by empirical, external means. Facts can generally be proved to the satisfaction of someone else. Beliefs aren't necessarily subject to the need for external proof, but you can't demand someone accept your belief the same way you can demand someone accept a demonstrable fact.

9. You’re not being reasonable if you don’t stay out of fights that aren’t any of your business.

‘Nuff said.

And yes, I’ve been guilty of violating many of these rules myself. Hypocrisie est un homage que la vice rend á la vertu.

Which rules of reasonableness have I missed?