Summary of the book "Rationality" - Steven Pinker

Key Concepts in this book:

1. Rationality is a tool for achieving a goal.
2. Rationality aids in the decision-making process.
3. Ignorance and self-restraint are both viable options.
4. Science is the application of logic to the real world.
5. We become less partial — and more sensible – as a result of institutions.
6. People are punished for their own good, which leads to a more rational commons.
7. Because it is rational, our most important moral principle is powerful.

Who can benefit the most from this book:

• Would-be rationalists.
• Philosophical thinkers.
• Anyone who loves big ideas.

What am I getting out of it? Learn how to think rationally.

It's safe to suppose that no human has ever been entirely rational, but our belief in the existence of objective truth has allowed us to develop guidelines for approaching it.

According to the author, if you follow those rules, you can change the world.

For example, it was logic that enabled us to reach the moon, eradicate illnesses like smallpox, invents computers, and, most recently, produce a vaccine against a devastating worldwide pandemic in less than a year.

So, what are those rules, and how can you promote rationality? That's exactly what this summary will be about!

• You'll discover why ignorance can be a reasonable choice.
• What counting horse teeth can teach us about science.
• And why our fear of being suckers erodes public services along the way.

1. Rationality is a tool for achieving a goal.

Let's begin with the basics: what is rationality? The definition of rational, according to dictionaries, is "having a reason." And the term reason derives from the Latin word ratio, which means "reason."

Could philosophy help us if etymology is leading us in circles? Rationality, according to philosophers, is the ability to use the information to achieve goals. Better?

Let's dissect that. The term "knowledge" refers to true beliefs that are supported by evidence. We wouldn't consider someone rational if they acted on incorrect beliefs, such as hunting for a misplaced wallet in a location where it couldn't possibly be. But rationality entails more than just believing correct thoughts like "1 Plus 1 = 2." It also facilitates our tasks.

The main point here is that rationality is merely a means to an aim.

William James, an American philosopher, authored an essay in 1890 about the difference between rational creatures and nonrational phenomena.

If you spread iron filings on a table and place a magnet near them, they will fly toward the magnet and cling to its surface, according to James. They press on the surface of the magnet, but it never occurs to them to remove the card and come into direct touch with the object that draws them. Consider Romeo and Juliet, a play by William Shakespeare.

Romeo's "magnet" is Juliet. When there are no obstacles in his way, he moves in a straight line toward her, exactly like the filings did toward the genuine magnet. But there's a distinction. When Romeo's way is hindered, he changes his plans. "Idiomatically pressing their faces on its opposite sides like the magnet and the filings with the card," Romeo and Juliet don't stay on either side of this impediment.

Romeo and Juliet use their knowledge of the world to overcome obstacles in the play. Romeo scales walls to kiss Juliet on the lips, and the couple concocts a ruse to deceive their feuding families.

This, according to James, is what distinguishes nonrational creatures from rational beings. Iron filings follow a straight path to their destination. However, their path to that goal is predetermined, which is why the card obstructs them so readily. For sensible beings, it's the other way around. Romeo and Juliet's ultimate outcome - being together – is set in stone, but how they get there is up to them.

When one path is blocked, we may always attempt another. This is human rationality in action.

2. Rationality aids in the decision-making process.

We've just established that reason is a tool for achieving a goal. But where do the objectives that it aids us in achieving come from? One response comes from Scottish philosopher David Hume, who lived in the seventeenth century.

Passions, according to Hume, are the source of goals. That is, feelings such as love, rage, pride, envy, and fear stem from desires, drives, and emotions like love, anger, pride, envy, and fear. In the meantime, the reason is the "slave of the passions."

This isn't a reason for acting irrationally, despite its appearance.

Hume was just stating that reason alone cannot tell us which goals to pursue. They're neither rational nor irrational in a logical sense - they're arational.

However, there are instances when we must choose between competing objectives. That's when logic comes into play.

Rationality aids in deciding between passions, which is the main point here.

Life would be simple if individuals just cared about one thing: hedonists could eat, drink, and love with abandon, and ambitious people might pursue fame and money without regard for their children or other citizens.

Of course, it isn't the case in real life. We desire pleasure and comfort, but we also want to be healthy, popular and have happy children. We gain weight when we eat too much cake. A ruthless Machiavellian is not someone anyone wants to work with or be friends with. Unattended children bring problems and headaches.

In other words, ambitions sometimes collide, and you can't always obtain what you desire. But how can you know which goals are worth pursuing and which aren't? This is where logic comes in.

Reason aids prioritization by providing a measure by which we can compare the relative worth of goals across time.

Consider the hedonism vs. health trade-off. In a cartoon published in the New Yorker, one of the finest arguments for prioritizing short-term pleasure can be found. A man sitting at a pub declares that the trouble with extending your life is that "all the extra years come at the end when you're old."

However, our understanding of the universe teaches us that, for example, eating healthily and exercising maintains us in good form, which means we're more likely to enjoy those extra years. That is sure to bring us a lot more joy. Thus, health appears to be a more desirable objective than hedonism.

The same may be said for ambition. Sharp elbows can help you progress your career in the short term, but they can also alienate people who you might need later for assistance. When you take the time to consider your objectives, you'll usually find that your future self will appreciate you for making sensible decisions now.

3. Ignorance and self-restraint are both viable options.

Knowing something does not imply that you will act rationally on it.

Willpower isn't always up to the challenge of resisting temptation. Take it from the Odyssey, a 2,000-year-old epic poem written in ancient Greece.

Odysseus must sail across an island populated by sirens, mythological beings whose alluring songs entice sailors onto sharp rocks, sinking their ships and drowning their crews, in order to return home.

Odysseus is fortunate in that a witch teaches him how to avoid succumbing to this terrible temptation: he must bind himself to his ship's mast and wax his sailors' ears.

Odysseus takes her guidance and makes it through the ordeal. It's a strategy from which we could learn a lot.

This concept's main message is that ignorance and self-control can both be sensible choices.

Preventing yourself from acting on temptation is one approach to fight it.

If you go shopping after you've eaten, for example, it's much easier to resist the siren melodies of unhealthy treats. Similarly, if you've advised your company to set aside a portion of your paycheck for retirement, you can't spend money you know you should be saving. It's not about willpower when it comes to Odyssean self-control — it's about strapping yourself to the metaphorical mast.

Through their wax earplugs, Odysseus' sailors didn't even hear the sirens. This appears to be an unusual strategy at first glance. Isn't knowledge, after all, power? Isn't it better to know something than not to know something, since you can always choose not to act on it? Surprisingly, there are occasions when it is sensible to choose ignorance.

One example is people's decision not to find out if they got a dominant gene from a parent that causes an incurable sickness. This information will not prevent them from contracting the sickness, but it will cast a long shadow over their life. And banks post posters informing would-be robbers that bank employees aren't aware of safe combination codes: no one can expose something they don't know, so threatening them is pointless. In summary, ignorance can protect us from harm.

It can also be used to combat bias. That is why jury members are not allowed to see inadmissible evidence obtained through coercion or hearsay. Good scientists also protect their work from bias by performing double-blind studies in which they are unaware of which patients received medicine and which received a placebo. In both circumstances, ignorance aids in maintaining objectivity.

4. Science is the application of logic to the real world.

We have the ability to make a variety of assertions about the world.

Take the assertion that "all bachelors are single."

Is this a true statement? Logic dictates that it must be – after all, a bachelor can't be married, since the term refers to an unmarried adult male. As a result, this statement is unfalsifiable: there is no way to refute it.

Other types of statements can be debunked. For example, an empirical claim is that "all bachelors are miserable." To find out if it's true, you'll have to get out of your chair and question real bachelors if they're happy or not. You've disproven, or "falsified," the statement if you locate one happy bachelor.

The first type of statement can be decoded using logic, but the second requires scientific verification.

The main point is this: Science is the application of logic to the real world.

A group of English monks began debating the number of teeth in a horse's jaw in the year 1432. Their argument continued for two weeks, and it was as intelligent as it was vehement.

One group used Aristotle's works to argue that it had to be 30; the other camp rejected this by referencing obscure old manuscripts that proved it was 50. A third group arrived at the number 45, which they claimed was backed by both Plato and the Bible. On the 14th day, a young friar finally spoke up. "How about we walk outdoors and look at a horse's mouth?" he said.

This anecdote, credited to Francis Bacon, a sixteenth-century English philosopher and physicist, is most likely fake. However, it's simple to see why it's survived the centuries: it's a vivid illustration of the disparities between Bacon's and the scholastics' perspectives.

This second group, made up of intellectuals trained in the Church, believed that only logical models of the universe derived from reliable literature could help us comprehend the world. Bacon, like the young friar, thought it was necessary to walk outside and begin counting horse teeth.

You can't avoid "superstition" if you don't collect empirical evidence. Today, we call it confirmation bias, or the tendency to notice and remember things that support our views while ignoring those that don't. This distinction is still vital to our scientific logic. How can you determine the difference between science and pseudoscience? It's a question of falsifiability for most scientists. Are you looking for facts to prove or disprove your hypothesis, or are you cocooning yourself in unprovable theories?

5. We become less partial — and more sensible – as a result of institutions.

Monotheism, or the belief in a single God, is based on two claims, according to American psychologist David Myers. The first is that a God exists. The second point to consider is that neither of us is God.

Okay, but how does this relate to rationality?

Rationalism, or the belief in objective truth, has a framework that is similar. It states, first and foremost, that there is an objective truth and, second, that neither you nor I are aware of it.

Rationality, then, isn't a boastful claim to know everything; it's an ambition.

No mortal may claim to have discovered objective truth, but the belief that it exists "out there" aids us in developing norms that get us closer to it as a group than we could individually.

The main point here is that institutions help us become less partial — and more reasonable.

In 1788, James Madison wrote that government would be unnecessary if humans were flawless. But we aren't, which is why the American leader considered human nature to be a political issue.

We're egotistical and ambitious, and we're frequently preoccupied with our own demands while ignoring those of our neighbours. We can also be cruel: if left to our own devices, we may end up stomping on others in order to gain an advantage.

Madison's solution to this challenge was to construct a governmental system that worked with human nature rather than against it. "Ambition must be created to combat ambition," he says. Allow people to be selfish and ambitious, but establish a system of checks and balances to prevent one person or faction from tyrannizing others.

Checks and balances in institutions prevent not just political tyranny, but also imperfect individuals from imposing their folly on the rest of us. Consider the adversarial legal system, which pits lawyer against the lawyer and relies on neutral juries and judges to make decisions. In academia, anonymous peer review fulfils a similar role, ensuring that ideas are evaluated on their merits rather than grudges and rivalries. In the public domain, freedom of expression means that both popular and unpopular ideas, which are frequently correct, are given a fair hearing.

These institutions would not be necessary if mankind were absolutely rational, according to Madison. We require them because no mortal has a direct path to objective truth. The more we disagree, the more likely it is that at least one of us is correct.

6. People are punished for their own good, which leads to a more rational commons.

It makes sense to stand up at a concert if you want a better perspective of the stage. However, this obstructs the view of others, prompting them to rise as well. Everyone is soon on their feet, and no one has a better vantage point.

The same principle applies to arms races. If one government invests a lot of money building long-range missiles, it makes sense for its adversary to do the same, resulting in both countries becoming poorer.

Both of these examples demonstrate one of rationality's paradoxes. When we all act rationally, the end result can be bad for everyone - this is known as the tragedy of the commons.

This isn't an unavoidable fact of nature; it may be overcome by enacting the appropriate rules.

The main point is that punishing people for their own good leads to a more logical commons.

We benefit from public amenities such as roads, sewerage, and schools as members of communities. These products are a form of commons: anyone can use them, and we're all responsible for keeping them in excellent working order.

However, we profit more as individuals if we can use these things while allowing others to pay for them. To put it another way, the sensible option is to take a free ride.

If everyone makes this decision, our town will not be able to afford to retain its public services. No one wants this to happen, but no one wants to pay taxes while others don't — that's a sucker's reward.

This is a lose-lose situation; we'll all be worse off as a result. So, how can we get out of this bind? Let's take a look at a lab experiment that economists and psychologists have utilized in the past.

Participants are given money and given the option of putting some of it into a shared pot. The experimenter adds another dollar for every dollar they contribute. Participants' best bet is to maximize their contributions as a group. Individuals would be better off holding their money and allowing others to contribute. This is the most common method used by participants.

When others see what they're doing, they stop contributing to the pot as well - unless the experimenter allows them to fine free riders, in which case contributions remain high and everyone benefits.

In the actual world, it's the same.

We are considerably more willing to pay our taxes when we know that rule-breakers will be penalized. It's not just that we don't want to end ourselves in jail; we also despise the concept of being taken advantage of!

7. Because it is rational, our most important moral principle is powerful.

Secular rules, as we've seen, can compel us to consider the public good. Many people believe that religious laws have a more essential effect: they force us to be moral.

That debate has a long history – so long, in fact, that it was familiar to Plato 2,400 years ago. Is it, however, durable? No, according to the Greek philosopher.

Plato stated that if something is moral solely because God commands it, then God's commandments are arbitrary.

But, if God has reasons for his commandments — that is, if he demands something because it is moral - it's unclear why we can't appeal directly to those reasons instead of going through the middleman.

What was Plato's conclusion? Morality can be based on logic.

The main point is that our most essential moral principle is persuasive because it is sensible.

Humans are egotistical and ambitious: we want what's best for us, even if it hurts the interests of others.

We are, nonetheless, social animals. We live in civilizations where we rely on people to assist us when we are in need and to avoid injuring us for no cause. So, how are we going to get along with one another?

First and foremost, we'll need to have a sensible discussion and agree on some ground principles.

Inconsistency is becoming the death knell for argument. It can be used to conclude anything and everything if a set of beliefs contains a contradiction. In other words, it's a formula for chaos.

Consider this scenario: I defend my right to rob you while demanding that you do not rob me. This "rule" is incongruent. Everyone is both a "I" for themselves and a "you" for someone else at the same time. That is to say, any argument that claims I can accomplish something you can't because I am me and you aren't is illogical.

We're likely to agree at this stage that our rules must apply to everyone equally. As a result, reason has led us to humanity's most powerful moral idea: the Golden Rule, which states that you should treat others as you would like to be treated. To put it another way, I shouldn't rob you if I don't want to be robbed by you.

This guideline can be found in every major world religion, from Hinduism and Buddhism to Confucianism, Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. It's also the first thing that comes to mind when we try to teach our kids about morals. "How would you feel if she did that to you?" we wonder.

The main message of this summary is that rationalism is a tool that allows us to achieve our life goals. It also assists us in prioritizing our objectives by weighing the short- and long-term rewards. Reason, on the other hand, is paradoxical. In some circumstances, ignorance is a better option than knowledge. In other cases, the worst outcome occurs as a result of everyone being reasonable about their own self-interest while ignoring the collective good. We embed rationality in institutions because of these contradictions. Our lives are considerably better and fairer when our rules encourage us to be reasonable.