I talked about a style of reasoning in which not a single contrary argument is allowed, with the result that every non-supporting observation has to be argued away. Here I suggest that when people encounter a contrary argument, they prevent themselves from downshifting their confidence by rehearsing already-known support.
Suppose the country of Freedonia is debating whether its neighbor, Sylvania, is responsible for a recent rash of meteor strikes on its cities. There are several pieces of evidence suggesting this: the meteors struck cities close to the Sylvanian border; there was unusual activity in the Sylvanian stock markets before the strikes; and the Sylvanian ambassador Trentino was heard muttering about “heavenly vengeance.”
Someone comes to you and says: “I don’t think Sylvania is responsible for the meteor strikes. They have trade with us of billions of dinars annually.” “Well,” you reply, “the meteors struck cities close to Sylvania, there was suspicious activity in their stock market, and their ambassador spoke of heavenly vengeance afterward.” Since these three arguments outweigh the first, you keep your belief that Sylvania is responsible—you believe rather than disbelieve, qualitatively. Clearly, the balance of evidence weighs against Sylvania.
Then another comes to you and says: “I don’t think Sylvania is responsible for the meteor strikes. Directing an asteroid strike is really hard. Sylvania doesn’t even have a space program.” You reply, “But the meteors struck cities close to Sylvania, and their investors knew it, and the ambassador came right out and admitted it!” Again, these three arguments outweigh the first (by three arguments against one argument), so you keep your belief that Sylvania is responsible.
Indeed, your convictions are strengthened. On two separate occasions now, you have evaluated the balance of evidence, and both times the balance was tilted against Sylvania by a ratio of 3 to 1.
You encounter further arguments by the pro-Sylvania traitors—again, and again, and a hundred times again—but each time the new argument is handily defeated by 3 to 1. And on every occasion, you feel yourself becoming more confident that Sylvania was indeed responsible, shifting your prior according to the felt balance of evidence.
The problem, of course, is that by rehearsing arguments you already knew, you are double-counting the evidence. This would be a grave sin even if you double-counted all the evidence. (Imagine a scientist who does an experiment with 50 subjects and fails to obtain statistically significant results, so the scientist counts all the data twice.)
I had the thought that something similar probably applies to morality as well. I’m thinking of Tony Soprano.
People say that Soprano is an asshole. Some say he is a sociopath. I’m not sure where I stand. But I finished watching The Sopranos recently and one thought that I frequently had when he’d do something harmful is that his hand was kinda forced.
For example, there was a character in the show named Adriana. Adriana became an informant to the FBI at some point. When Tony learned this, he had her killed.
Having someone killed is, in some sense, bad. But did Tony have a choice? If he didn’t she very well could have gotten Tony and the rest of the mob members sent to jail, or perhaps sentenced to the death penalty. When that is the calculus, we usually don’t expect the person in Tony’s shoes to prioritize the person in Adriana’s shoes.
It makes me think back to when I played poker. Sometimes you end up in a bad spot. It looks like you just don’t have any good options. Folding seems too nitty. Calling is gross. Raising feels dubious. No move you make will end well.
But alas, you do in fact have to make a decision. The goal is not necessarily to find a move that will be good in an absolute sense. It’s to make the best move relative tothe other moves you can make. To criticize someone who chooses the best move in a relative sense because it is a bad move in an absolute sense is unfair. You have to look at it from the point-of-decision.
Of course, you also want to look back at how you got yourself in the bad spot in the first place. Like if you made a bad decision on the flop that put you in a bad spot on the turn, you want to call out the play you made on the flop as bad and learn from it. But you don’t want to “double count” the move you made on the flop once you’ve moved on to analyzing the next street.
Using this analogy, I think Tony Soprano made some incredibly bad preflop moves that set himself up for a shit show. And then he didn’t do himself any favors on the flop. But once he was on later streets like the turn and river, I’m not sure how bad his decisions actually were. And more generally, I think it probably makes sense to avoid “double counting” the mistakes people made on earlier streets when they are faced with decisions on later streets.
[This contains spoilers for the show The Sopranos.]
In the realm of epistemics, it is a sin to double-count evidence. From One Argument Against An Army:
I had the thought that something similar probably applies to morality as well. I’m thinking of Tony Soprano.
People say that Soprano is an asshole. Some say he is a sociopath. I’m not sure where I stand. But I finished watching The Sopranos recently and one thought that I frequently had when he’d do something harmful is that his hand was kinda forced.
For example, there was a character in the show named Adriana. Adriana became an informant to the FBI at some point. When Tony learned this, he had her killed.
Having someone killed is, in some sense, bad. But did Tony have a choice? If he didn’t she very well could have gotten Tony and the rest of the mob members sent to jail, or perhaps sentenced to the death penalty. When that is the calculus, we usually don’t expect the person in Tony’s shoes to prioritize the person in Adriana’s shoes.
It makes me think back to when I played poker. Sometimes you end up in a bad spot. It looks like you just don’t have any good options. Folding seems too nitty. Calling is gross. Raising feels dubious. No move you make will end well.
But alas, you do in fact have to make a decision. The goal is not necessarily to find a move that will be good in an absolute sense. It’s to make the best move relative to the other moves you can make. To criticize someone who chooses the best move in a relative sense because it is a bad move in an absolute sense is unfair. You have to look at it from the point-of-decision.
Of course, you also want to look back at how you got yourself in the bad spot in the first place. Like if you made a bad decision on the flop that put you in a bad spot on the turn, you want to call out the play you made on the flop as bad and learn from it. But you don’t want to “double count” the move you made on the flop once you’ve moved on to analyzing the next street.
Using this analogy, I think Tony Soprano made some incredibly bad preflop moves that set himself up for a shit show. And then he didn’t do himself any favors on the flop. But once he was on later streets like the turn and river, I’m not sure how bad his decisions actually were. And more generally, I think it probably makes sense to avoid “double counting” the mistakes people made on earlier streets when they are faced with decisions on later streets.