How Much Do You Actually Know?

It is perhaps the most important question a grown-up can ask. How much do you actually know? 

The first response to this question will be surprised incredulity. What do you mean, "How much do I actually know? I just told you what I know about my spouse, my neighbor, a politician, an enemy or a friend. If I didn't know it, I wouldn't have said it! What a stupid question!"

One thing we know is that this response is a confession of minimal knowledge and maximal intuition. I don't have much information. But from what I know, I can create a coherent and plausible story. That story fits with what I already think I know. It fits with what I already know I think. And it fits with what I like and don't like. That is more than enough for me to draw my conclusions. Such ill-informed intuitions can also be called prejudices.

Here's a trivial example from my life. I'm a public person in a very small sort of way. As a public leader, I am closely observed for clues about how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking. Those clues may be highly accurate in the moment they are observed, but they have little to do with my running state of mind or heart. And yet, someone will observe, "My goodness, you are a bit grumpy this morning! Cheer up!" And three minutes later someone will observe, "My goodness, you are cheery this morning! Did you win the lottery?"

Neither observer has taken a moment to ask, "How much do I actually know?" We draw "snapshot" conclusions all the time, and then treat them as if they are true. In fact, mostly what we are doing is reinforcing our Confirmation Bias. We have ideas about how things ought to be. We collect information to support those ideas. And then our ideas about how things ought to be are even stronger. We ignore contradictory evidence.

But how much do we actually know? Most of our conclusions come from looking in a mirror rather than looking through a window. Most of our conclusions are reflections of our preconceptions rather than explorations of what's really out there.

Some wise wag once noted that the only exercise some people get is jumping to conclusions, running down their friends, side-stepping responsibility, and pushing their luck. The only change I would make is to substitute "most" for "some." Asking the hard questions about our own thinking is challenging and consumes a great deal of energy and time. Worst of all, the questions leave us less certain. And we despise that sensation of itchy uncertainty.

But this question is one of the defining elements of civil discourse. What if we asked our media outlets this question? Please tell us how much you actually KNOW about a story before you share unjustified and irrational causal connections. What if we asked our public leaders this question? Please describe to us how much you actually KNOW about an issue before you start generating policy decisions. What if we asked ourselves this question? Please, my overly judgmental self, explain to me why I attribute such terrible things to a stranger based on apparent race, ethnicity, accent, dress or language?

How much do I actually know? If I am honest, I actually know very little. And I would benefit from knowing a great deal more before drawing any conclusions. Curiosity is the key to learning. And learning is the basis of empathy.

This is the neural correlate to Jesus' injunctions about refraining from judgment. It is one of the ironies of our Christian history that people who follow him are world champion conclusion jumpers.