Maybe I’m just a top-level brain master, but I would disagree; or at least claim that we’re using different words for the same thing. There are plenty of times I can think of where noticing confusion would have been possible and useful. My sister lies a lot, and there have been lots of times where I have this wordless sensation that roughly corresponds to the internal vocalization, “This does not make sense;” I think lots of people experience things like that, and I think that’s what we’re all talking about here, regardless of whether you call it missing puzzle pieces, or the difference between fiction and reality.
And it doesn’t have to be someone explicitly lying as in my example and Eliezer’s. I would say that it applies more broadly to resisting that impulse to attempt to explain anything that often accompanies a feeling of confusion. I think it’s telling that your example about the cuckold is very mundane. By juxtaposition, it reminds me of the Parable of the Dragon in the Garage: when your epistemic standards don’t have a very clear immediate effect on you, you can easily go wild. You don’t just pray when your kid is starving; you pray and you try to fix it yourself, promises that He helps those who help themselves notwithstanding. Likewise, delude yourself as to your wife’s affairs, and you know it’s going to turn out badly. But other things can be so far removed from everyday experience that being practical is not the default action; there’s no immediately apparent consequence for being right or wrong. And that’s when it’s really important to say, not “That’s confusing; well, it’s probably this,” or, “That’s confusing; whatever,” but, “That’s confusing; wait just a cotton-picking minute.”
Maybe I’m just a top-level brain master, but I would disagree; or at least claim that we’re using different words for the same thing. There are plenty of times I can think of where noticing confusion would have been possible and useful. My sister lies a lot, and there have been lots of times where I have this wordless sensation that roughly corresponds to the internal vocalization, “This does not make sense;” I think lots of people experience things like that, and I think that’s what we’re all talking about here, regardless of whether you call it missing puzzle pieces, or the difference between fiction and reality.
And it doesn’t have to be someone explicitly lying as in my example and Eliezer’s. I would say that it applies more broadly to resisting that impulse to attempt to explain anything that often accompanies a feeling of confusion. I think it’s telling that your example about the cuckold is very mundane. By juxtaposition, it reminds me of the Parable of the Dragon in the Garage: when your epistemic standards don’t have a very clear immediate effect on you, you can easily go wild. You don’t just pray when your kid is starving; you pray and you try to fix it yourself, promises that He helps those who help themselves notwithstanding. Likewise, delude yourself as to your wife’s affairs, and you know it’s going to turn out badly. But other things can be so far removed from everyday experience that being practical is not the default action; there’s no immediately apparent consequence for being right or wrong. And that’s when it’s really important to say, not “That’s confusing; well, it’s probably this,” or, “That’s confusing; whatever,” but, “That’s confusing; wait just a cotton-picking minute.”