戴按：这是一篇有趣的文章，原作者李·哈里斯（Lee Harris）是美国保守派企业研究所研究员，此文认为在政治常识问题上，专家学者未必比普通老百姓更聪明。
（来源：共识网，2012-06-14）
作者：李·哈里斯 译者：吴万伟
最近，突然冒出大量文章和评论，给这个问题提供了坚定不移的肯定答案：大部分美国人愚蠢无知，简直就是不可救药，根本无法做出明智的决策，难以确保民主体制的健康发展。
从这些文章的口气来看，美国现在不仅胖子多，傻子也多。
当然，在中立的观察家看来，许多的抱怨充满党派偏见，其公正性令人怀疑，尤其是在自由派人士把美国越来越笨的罪魁祸首归咎于共和党，尤其是共和党中的茶叶党派别。但“美国人太笨，搞不好民主”的鼓吹者采取了看似并无党派偏见的客观和科学的更高立场。几个月前，一篇文章引起我的注意，该文的题目很有意思“科学家说，人们不够聪明，难以确保民主的健康发展”。这些科学家是谁？为什么这么说？
这些科学家是康奈尔大学大卫·达宁（David
Dunning）博士领导下的心理学家团队，他们经过研究后得出结论“非常聪明的观点令人很难接受，因为多数人并没有高深的知识来辨认出观点的好坏。”比如，只有税收专家才能明智地评价所提议的税收改革的价值所在，普通人显然没有对此问题做出可靠判断所需要的专业知识。更糟糕的是，他缺乏辨认出谁时该领域专家的能力，所以很容易受到冒充内行的政客的蛊惑，这些人常常诉诸人们的情感而不是理性。税收改革如此，我们这样的现代国家遭遇的任何复杂挑战同样如此，无论是医疗保健还是国防、财政政策、全球气候变暖等都需要专业知识。
该论点的背后存在两个假设。首先，达宁及其团队假设愚蠢观点是傻瓜的专利，或更笼统地说，笨人才有笨观点，聪明人有聪明观点。第二，他们假设笨人是美国民主制度的危险。但是，这两个假设都面临挑战。
首先，让我们假定当今社会上确实有很多愚蠢的观点。但这是美国越来越笨的证据吗？根本不是。特别聪明的人才有特别愚蠢的观点。萧伯纳、西德尼·韦伯夫妇（Sidney
and Beatrice Webb）、托斯丹·凡勃伦（Thorstein
Veblen）和贾瓦哈拉尔·尼赫鲁（Jawaharlal
Nehru）都是非常聪明的人。他们都认为斯大林治下的苏联是真正的工人天堂。这是非常愚蠢的观点。另一方面，在同一个时期，许多没有读过书的笨蛋都认为苏联是不理智的甚至是狂热的恐怖之乡，他们的观点非常正确。
聪明人时不时沉溺于一些愚蠢透顶的观点，让后世的聪明人在回顾历史时不胜唏嘘，令人恶心。想想上个世纪初支持优生学的众多进步知识分子，他们对待优生学的态度与纳粹大屠杀后出生的一代进步知识分子的态度形成鲜明对比。用支持优生学的知识分子不如反对优生学的知识分子聪明来解释这种差别显然是愚蠢的。
只有对观念的历史极端无知的人才会相信高智商是避免人们不受愚蠢想法诱惑的保证。你能想象的最愚蠢观点几乎毫无例外都是知识分子的杰作。多数人都是天生的奴隶吗？这是聪明的亚里士多德的观点。雅利安人种优越论？这是学识渊博的亚瑟·戈宾诺伯爵（Arthur
Gobineau）的观点。
但是，即使我们承认聪明人常常拥有愚蠢观点，笨人如果有什么观点的话，肯定是愚蠢观点难道不是更明显的吗？正如康奈尔大学心理学家宣称的，愚蠢观点的泛滥难道不是导致大众民主失败的罪魁祸首吗？
美国例外主义的支持者显然要反驳这种主张。它被称为历史。即使我们承认达宁等人提出了民主无法繁荣的一个先验命题，但历史证据表明美国的民主进程相当好。未来会更好吗？毫无疑问，但相关问题是历史对比。无论从任何标准来衡量，哪个国家的民主有美国这样好的成功记录？如果达宁确定善政的成功是领导人毫无例外地采纳“非常聪明的观点”，那么美国显然达不到成功的标准。但是，这就像说亿万富翁巴菲特（Warren
Buffet）不是成功的商人，因为他自己也承认，曾经做出过一些愚蠢的投资决策。
更重要的是，稍微回顾一下美国的历史就会发现，如果笨人要实现民主的话，他们本来早就可以这样做的。
这里有个思想实验：在1828年投票支持安德鲁·杰克逊（Andrew
Jackson）的人能了解多少爱因斯坦的相对论、达尔文的自然进化论、对量子物理学的哥本哈根解释、开尔文爵士（Lord
Kelvin）的热力学、康托（Cantor）的超限数理论、凯恩斯的经济学、图灵机基本理论（Turing
machines）、控制论、因特网呢？没有，一点儿也没有。
当然，他们有很好的借口不了解这些。在1828年时，谁也不知道这些知识，因为它们都还没有出现。但是，在1828年时仍然有很多的无知。确实，安德鲁·杰克逊的当选被许多人看作是没有歧视的包容性民主的典范，每个人，即使不识字的大老粗也获得了投票权。不管他喝了多少酒，当然，这个人必须是白人男性醉汉。
即使在杰克逊时代，美国也有学识渊博者。但在那时，有学问的人意味着知道如何阅读古典语言，熟悉古希腊和罗马的经典著作。这里有一个优势，有学问的人更容易判断其他有学问的人，因为学术领域比当今的范围小多了。
在前半个世纪的美国民主实验中，有学问的阶级关心的问题不是民众的无知。他们本来就知道民众无知，担忧的是民众对自己的幸福和生活不够关心。知识精英担心的是狡猾的、有魅力的野心家蛊惑人心，利用民众的无知捞取权力，然后就像希腊罗马那样的独裁者一样胡作非为，给民众和国家带来灾难。
在1828年，美国的知识阶层中的许多人，虽然不是全部，都相信安德鲁·杰克逊将成为历史学家普鲁塔克（Plutarch）的书中走出来的煽动家，一个像苏拉（Sulla）或者凯撒（Caesar）一样的军事领袖，意志坚定但是鲁莽急躁，有可能变成废除法治的独裁者。在某种程度上，这些有学问的人是正确的：杰克逊确实意志坚定、鲁莽急躁，但是在他作为总统的两届任期末尾，杰克逊已经靠边，由温和的、政治艺术高超的副总统马丁·范布伦（Martin
Van Buren）接替。在19世纪的幸存者看来，美国民主选举的主要问题不是把权力给予了煽动家，而是给予平庸之辈（non-entities）。林肯就是作为平庸之辈当选总统的，只不过因为他无法控制的事件而变成了伟人；但是他当选总统并不是有人认为他已经是个伟人了。
确实，包括林肯在内的很多美国总统一直被对手称为野心家。但是，从普鲁塔克的经典野心家的标准来衡量，更不要提20世纪更加邪恶的野心家如希特勒、墨索里尼、斯大林、毛泽东了，美国一直拒绝给任何单个人过多的权力，这种记录令人印象深刻。有些人可能解释说这主要是因为美国宪法的三权分立，权力制衡，但这个功绩的真正源头是普通美国民众朴素的实用主义，也就是人们所说的常识。
但是，这让我们看到用来支持“美国人太笨，搞不好民主”命题的最强有力论证。常识或许在杰克逊时代或者后来的几代人来说就够了。但是靠常识解决21世纪的复杂性和挑战就远远不够了。这就是为什么我们需要专家替我们做出决定。
让我们回顾康奈尔大学心理学家提供的研究，似乎他们在进行纯科学的研究。或许他们自认为是在进行科研。但他们的发现向那些鼓吹美国应该采取欧洲管理模式的人最强有力的证据。在欧洲模式中，国家面临的所有重大议题都由相关领域的专家做出决策，而不是由不完全知情的普通选民做决定。用最新的心理学伪装支持的论证其实可以追溯到苏格拉底、柏拉图和亚里士多德，他们都相信普通民众（the
demos）都太笨，太冷漠，根本无法自治。实际上，达宁领导的康奈尔大学心理学家不过是更新了精英统治的经典政治论调而已。
但是，这种更新存在严重问题。从古希腊到杰克逊时代，政治精英主义的支持者都一直在鼓吹聪明人统治，而不是鼓吹由拥有高等学位的专家来统治。这之间有关键的差别。正如上文注意到的，聪明人在本质上能够辨认出其他聪明人。同样真实的是，因为经典文学的共同知识，生活在杰克逊时代的有学问者能够辨认出其他有学问的人。但是，当今高度专业化的专家就不是这么回事了。
“知识太多，根本无法全都了解”的论证不仅适用于普通人而且适用于当今专家。在某个领域的杰出学者在很多其他领域肯定也是白痴一个。我们假设一个名叫弗兰克的人。弗兰克是世界最著名的神经学家之一。显然，弗兰克是通过了专家的判断，得到了神经学家同行的承认，但是经济学家的观点呢？在遭遇本专业领域之外的问题时，弗兰克的认知优势未必超过汽车修理工乔治。
康奈尔心理学家可能按照下面的思路回应这种反对意见。与汽车修理工乔治不同，弗兰克能够辨认出谁是其他领域的专家。遵循“需要一个人去了解一个人”的原则，弗兰克通过提出正确的问题能够辨认出经济学领域的真正专家。他们是在名牌大学讲授经济学吗？他们获得了诺贝尔奖吗？他们的文章得到同行的好评了吗？
应该承认，这种反应有一些说服力。毕竟，我们许多人正是以此决定对在多大程度上尊重某人的意见。但尊重一个人的意见与自己证实该意见的准确性是两回事。确实，用“某某博士在经济学的地位如何？”代替“某某博士有关经济的看法是什么？”就是诱惑性的认知错误的典型例子，丹尼尔·卡内曼（Daniel
Kahneman）在书《思考：快与慢》中讨论过这个问题。
在题目为“回答更容易的问题”一章中，卡内曼解释了当人们遇到一个难以回答的问题时，常常用一个更简单的问题来替换。更简单的问题自然让他们能很容易地回答，但这个容易的答案并没有真正解决他们面对的实际问题，从而诱惑人们做出不理性的决定。
多年前，在我接触卡内曼的著作之前，我从母亲那里得到用更容易问题替换的绝妙教训。每当我带她去看一位新的医生时，离开办公室后，她总是问我“你喜欢他吗？”她提出这个问题既不是出于好奇也不是出于礼貌，而是在决定下次是不是再找这位医生看病。她真正想知道的是“这个医生是好医生吗？”但因为她没有回答这个问题的专业知识，只好用更简单的问题“我喜欢他吗”来替代。
对这个问题，我总是故意逗我妈开心。我耐心地向她解释我喜不喜欢她的医生是个无关紧要的问题。我个人的好恶与医生的专业水平没有任何关系，尤其是我自己对医学也是一窍不通。母亲不过是做了我们每个人在遇到实际面临的难题时用不相关的问题替代的常见做法而已。但是，这种途径的危险显而易见。如果我被一个危险的疯子的魅力所吸引，母亲找他看病，耽误了治疗该怎么办呢？
我们假设的神经学家弗兰克在评价经济学家提出的政策建议时可能不会像我妈一样。不是问儿子是否喜欢这个经济学家，弗兰克可能提出的问题是：其他经济学家尊重他吗？他的论文引用率高吗？他在哪个大学教书？但是所有这些问题都有一个共同点，那就是用容易回答的问题代替真问题“这个经济学家的建议真正好吗？”当然，弗兰克的替代性问题似乎比我妈提出的替代性问题更复杂些，但在本质上这些并不靠谱。调查一个政策制定者的资历并没有解决真正的问题：这个经济政策真能起作用吗？虽然某个领域的专家或许能够辨认出其他领域的专家，但他们并不比普通人能更好地判断这些专家给出的建议好不好。
具有讽刺意味的是，正是现代人对专家意见的需求极大地威胁了专家作为认知能力权威的地位，普通大众都指望听取他们的判断。我们要求专家帮助我们克服的困难越多，我们就越多地发现专家在极端重要的问题上众说纷纭、意见不一。更糟糕的是，一个领域的专家数量越多，专家意见发生冲突的频率也越高。
我们举一个最新的例子，男人是否应该做前列腺特异抗原（PSA）扫描来判断是否患有前列腺癌呢？美国预防服务特别工作组曾经说，不应该做这种检查，但许多泌尿科医生说应该做。面对专家们的不同意见，普通人该如何做决定呢？如果专家在这个完全与政治无关的前列腺特异抗原检查问题上都无法达成一致意见，我们应该在多大程度上相信他们在具有政治影响力的议题上会采取客观立场呢？这些例子显示，某个领域的专家倾向于同意另一领域专家的意见，不是因为他们根据科学的事实而同意，不过是因为他们的政治立场相同，这完全是另外一个问题了。
总而言之，指责专家的意见分歧就像指责普通人不是专家一样荒谬。在做出正确决策方面，人类面临的问题不是因为我们缺乏聪明和智慧。我们面临的挑战是人人都遭遇的挑战，它来自我们生活的世界的复杂性和无限的错乱反常。认为智慧或专业知识就能克服所有顽固事实中这个最顽固的事实是人类认知的傲慢自大。民主的最好希望仍然在于不受干扰的观念市场，就像任何市场一样，“顾客小心上当”的谨慎原则仍然是避免上当受骗的最好策略，让造假者、撒谎者、冒充内行者、和在你面前挥舞博士学位显摆的人统统见鬼去吧！
（译自：“Lee
Harris ：Are
Americans Too Dumb for Democracy？”
http：//www.lee-harris.org/11834/american-democracy）
Are Americans Too Dumb for Democracy?
By Lee Harris 2012-06-09 03:15
The American: Online Magazine of American Enterprise
Institute
The best hope
for democracy still lies in the unregulated marketplace of ideas, in which the
maxim ‘Let the buyer beware’ remains the surest safeguard against cheats and
charlatans, including those waving their PhDs in your face.
Are Americans too dumb for democracy?
Of late,
there has been a spate of articles and op-ed pieces that suggest the answer to
this question is an emphatic yes: The majority of Americans are simply too
hopelessly ignorant to make the kind of intelligent decisions that are
necessary to preserve a healthy democratic system.
Judging from
the tone of these articles, America is currently suffering not only from an
epidemic of obesity, but an epidemic of stupidity.
True, many of
these complaints are apt to strike the neutral observer as suspiciously
partisan, as when liberals lay the blame for the dumbing down of America on the
doorstep of the Republican Party, and especially its Tea Party wing. But some
advocates of the “too dumb for democracy” thesis have taken the higher and
presumably non-partisan path of objective science—a fact brought to my
attention some months ago by an article intriguingly entitled: “People Aren’t
Smart Enough for Democracy to Flourish, Scientists Say.” Who were these
scientists, and why were they saying such a thing?
What the learned elite feared was the
emergence of cunning and charismatic demagogues who would play on the ignorance
of the people in order to obtain sole power for themselves.
The
scientists were a team of psychologists working under Dr. David Dunning of
Cornell University, who concluded after their research that “very smart ideas
are going to be hard for people to adopt, because most people don’t have the
sophistication to recognize how good an idea is.” Because it takes an expert in
taxation to intelligently assess the worth of a proposed tax reform, for
example, the average person will obviously lack the competence to make a
judgment on the reform in question. Worse, he will lack the ability to
recognize who the actual experts in the field are, leaving him vulnerable to
political charlatans who will appeal to his emotions and not his reason. And
what is true of a proposed tax reform will be true of any of the complicated
challenges that face a modern nation like our own, from healthcare, to national
self-defense, to fiscal policy, to global warming.
Underlying this argument are two
assumptions. First, Dunning and his team assume that dumb ideas are the
exclusive privilege of dumb people—or, more generally, that dumb people have
bad ideas, while smart people have good ones. Second, they assume that dumb
people are dangerous to the American democratic system. Both assumptions,
however, are open to challenge.
To begin
with, let us agree that there are a lot of dumb ideas floating around. Is this
any proof that Americans have gotten stupider? Not at all. Extraordinarily
intelligent men have held extraordinarily dumb ideas. George Bernard Shaw,
Sidney and Beatrice Webb, Thorstein Veblen, and Jawaharlal Nehru were all
brilliant individuals. All of them thought that the USSR under Stalin was a genuine
worker’s paradise. A very dumb idea. On the other hand, during the same period,
many unschooled dolts regarded the Soviet Union with an irrational and even
paranoid horror—and they were quite right.
From time to
time, extremely intelligent people become infatuated with ideas that later
generations of equally intelligent people look back upon with shudders of
revulsion. Consider the enormous number of progressive intellectuals who
supported eugenics programs at the beginning of the last century, in contrast
to the attitude towards eugenics of progressive intellectuals in the
post-Holocaust generation. It would be silly to try to explain this difference
by arguing that the pro-eugenic intellectuals were less intelligent than the
anti-eugenic intellectuals.
Judging from the tone of these articles,
America is currently suffering not only from an epidemic of obesity, but an
epidemic of stupidity.
Only someone
abysmally ignorant of the history of ideas could believe for a moment that high
intelligence is any guarantee against the lure of dumb ideas. The dumbest idea
you can think of almost certainly owes its origin to an intellectual. Most
people are born natural slaves? The wise Aristotle. Aryan supremacy? The
erudite Arthur Gobineau.
Even if we
concede that intelligent people often have dumb ideas, doesn’t it seem rather
self-evident that stupid people will invariably have stupid ideas—assuming that
they have any ideas at all? And doesn’t this preponderance of stupid ideas doom
popular democracy to failure, just as the Cornell psychologists claim?
Proponents of
American exceptionalism have an obvious rebuttal to this argument. It is called
history. Even if we grant that Dunning et al have made a strong a priori case
why democracy shouldn’t flourish, the historical evidence is that American
democracy has flourished quite well. Could it have flourished even more? No
doubt—but the relevant question is one of historical comparison. What nation
has a better track record of success, measure it any way you wish? If Dunning
is defining a successful form of government as one in which the leaders
invariably adopt “very smart ideas,” then the United States clearly fails to
meet their standard of success. But that is like arguing that multi-billionaire
Warren Buffet is not a successful businessman because, by his own admission, he
has made some bad investment decisions.
More
decisively, a little reflection on our nation’s past suggests that if the dumb
were going to do democracy in, they would have done it long ago.
The dumbest idea you can think of almost
certainly owes its origin to an intellectual.
Here’s a
thought experiment: How much could the men who voted for Andrew Jackson in 1828
tell you about Einstein’s general theory of relativity, Darwin’s theory of
natural selection, the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum physics, Lord
Kelvin’s thermodynamics, Cantor’s theory
of transfinite numbers, Keynesian economics, Turing machines, cybernetics, or
the Internet? Nothing, absolutely
nothing.
Of course,
they had a good excuse for not knowing about these things. No one in 1828 could
possibly know about them because none of them had as yet come to pass. Yet,
back in 1828, there was still plenty of ignorance to go around. Indeed, the
election of Andrew Jackson was seen by many as the test case of a democracy so
indiscriminately inclusive that everyone, even the most illiterate buffoon, was
allowed to cast his ballot, no matter how drunk he was, provided, of course,
that he was a drunk white male.
Even in the
Age of Jackson, America had its learned men. But in those days, to be learned
meant knowing how to read the classical languages, and being reasonably
familiar with the canonical texts of the ancient Greeks and Romans. This had an
advantage. It was easier for the learned to judge the learning of other learned
men, because the domain of learning was so much smaller than it is today.
During the
first half-century of America’s democratic experiment, the concern of the
learned class was not the ignorance of the masses as such. They expected the
masses to be ignorant—except, of course, about what was of immediate concern to
their happiness and livelihoods. What the learned elite feared was the
emergence of cunning and charismatic demagogues who would play on the ignorance
of the people in order to obtain sole power for themselves, and who would
thereafter behave exactly like the series of dictators who had left their fatal
mark on Greece and Rome.
The average person will lack the ability to
recognize who the actual experts in the field are, leaving him vulnerable to
political charlatans who will appeal to his emotions and not his reason.
In 1828, many
of America’s learned class, though not all, were convinced that Andrew Jackson
would turn out to be a demagogue right out of the pages of Plutarch—a military
hero, like Sulla or Caesar, head-strong and impetuous, who would set himself up
as a dictator and abolish the rule of law. The learned were right up to a
point: Jackson was head-strong and impetuous. Yet, at the end of his two terms
as president, Jackson stepped aside and the bland, but politically artful,
Martin Van Buren took his place. For the remainder of the 19th century, the
main complaint about America’s democratic electorate was not that they handed
power to demagogues, but to non-entities. Lincoln, who was elected as a
non-entity, was transformed by events beyond his control into a great man; but
he wasn’t elected because anyone thought he already was one.
It is true
that various American presidents have been called demagogues by their
opponents, including Lincoln. But, judged by the standard of Plutarch’s
classical demagogues, not to mention the far more odious demagogues of the 20th
century, such as Hitler, Mussolini, Stalin, and Mao, the United States has an
outstanding record of refusing to entrust too much power into the hands of any
single individual. Some might want to explain this by referring to the checks
and balances of the United States Constitution, but the real credit for this
achievement should go to the homespun pragmatism of ordinary Americans,
familiarly known as common sense.
This,
however, brings us to the strongest argument that can be made in support of the
“too dumb for democracy” thesis. Mere common sense might have been enough
during the Age of Jackson and, indeed, for several generations following. But
common sense is simply not enough to deal with the complexity and challenges of
the 21st century. This is why we need to rely upon experts to make decisions
for us.
Let us recall
that the Cornell psychologists offered up their research as if they were
engaging in a purely scientific study. Perhaps they even thought they were. Yet
their findings provide obvious ammunition to those who advocate that the United
States should adopt the so-called European model of government, in which
virtually all the major issues facing our nation would be decided by experts in
the relevant field, and not by the ill-informed popular electorate. This
argument, decked out in the latest psychological apparel, actually goes back to
Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, all of whom believed that the common people,
the demos, were not intelligent or dispassionate enough to govern themselves.
Indeed, the Cornell psychologists under Dunning are only updating the classical
political argument for elite rule.
The historical evidence is that American
democracy has flourished quite well.
There is,
however, a serious problem with this update. From the time of the ancient
Greeks up until the Age of Jackson, proponents of political elitism have
championed the rule of the wise man, and not the rule of the highly specialized
expert with advanced degrees. This makes a critical difference. Wise men, by
nature, can recognize other wise men. As we noted earlier, the same was true of
the learned men who lived in the Age of Jackson, who could recognize each other
thanks to the shared knowledge of classical literature. But the same isn’t true
of the highly specialized experts of today.
The “too much
to know” argument doesn’t just apply to the average guy; it also applies to
today’s experts. An outstanding scholar in one particular field, after all, is
bound to be a complete ignoramus in many others. Take the case of someone we’ll
call Frank. Frank is one of the world’s most brilliant neurologists. Obviously,
Frank is in a position to pass an expert judgment on the views of his fellow
neurologists, but what about the ideas of an economist? In dealing with areas
outside his own field of specialization, Frank would appear to have no
cognitive advantage over his automobile mechanic, George.
The Cornell
psychologists would probably respond to this objection along the following
lines. Unlike his mechanic George, Frank will be able to recognize who the real
experts in other fields are. Following the maxim, “It takes one to know one,”
Frank will be able to detect a genuine expert in economics by asking the right
questions. Do they teach economics at a prestigious university? Have they won
the Nobel Prize? Were their articles and books favorably reviewed by their
peers?
Admittedly,
there is something persuasive about this response. After all, this is how many
of us actually go about deciding how much respect to give to someone’s opinion.
But respecting a man’s opinion is not the same thing as verifying its truth for
yourself. Indeed, to replace the question, “Is Dr. So-and-so right about the
economy” with the question, “What is Dr. So-and-so’s standing in the field of
economics?” is a clear example of the seductive cognitive blunder that Daniel
Kahneman addresses in his book, Thinking, Fast and Slow.
A little reflection on our nation’s past
suggests that if the dumb were going to do democracy in, they would have done
it long ago.
In a chapter
entitled “Answering an Easier Question,” Kahneman explains that when human
beings face a question that is too difficult for them to answer, they often
substitute an easier question for it. The easy question naturally provides them
with an easy answer, but this easy answer does not really address the actual
question facing them, luring people into making irrational decisions.
Many years
before I became acquainted with Kahneman’s work, I was given an excellent
lesson in easy question substitution by my mother. Whenever I took her to see a
new doctor, she would invariably ask me the moment we left his office, “Did you
like him?” She didn’t ask me this question out of curiosity or politeness. She
was trying to decide whether she should see this particular doctor again. What
she really wanted to know was, “Is this doctor a good doctor?” But because she
lacked the expert knowledge to answer this question, she substituted another
question that was far simpler: Did I like him?
I used to
tease my mother for posing this question. I patiently explained to her that it
was irrelevant whether I liked her doctor or not. My personal feelings about
him said nothing whatsoever about his medical qualification, especially since I
knew nothing about medicine myself. Yet my mother was only doing what we all do
when we substitute an easy but irrelevant question for the dauntingly
complicated question that actually faces us. But the danger of this approach is
obvious. What if I had been charmed by a dangerous crackpot, whose treatment
might have shortened my mother’s life?
Frank, our
hypothetical neurologist, will probably not behave like my mother when it comes
to appraising the policy recommendations of an economist. Instead of asking his
son whether he likes the economist personally, Frank will ask questions such
as: Do other economists respect him? How often have his articles been cited?
Where does he teach? Yet what all these questions have in common is that they
are easy-to-answer substitutes for the real question—is the economist actually
giving good advice? True, Frank’s substitute questions may appear more
sophisticated than my mother’s much simpler one, but in truth they are no more
rational. Investigating the credentials of a policymaker fails to address the
real question: Will the economic policy actually work? So while experts in one
field may be able to identify experts in other fields, they will be in no
better position than the average Joe to judge whether these experts are giving
good advice.
Let us agree that there are a lot of dumb
ideas floating around. Is this any proof that Americans have gotten stupider?
Not at all.
Ironically,
it is modernity’s very demand for expert opinion that most threatens experts’
status as cognitive authorities whose judgment can be implicitly relied upon by
the general public. The more we call in the experts to help us out, the more we
discover that experts are by no means unanimous on any of the topics that are
of serious importance to us. Worse, there seems to be a law that as the number
of experts in a field increases, so too does the number of conflicting expert
opinions.
To take only
the latest example, consider the question of whether men should take the PSA
screening test for prostate cancer. The U.S. Preventive Services Task Force has
said that they should not, while most urologists say they should. Faced with
this disagreement among experts, how is the ordinary man to decide this
question? And if experts can’t agree about an issue as completely devoid of
political significance as the PSA test, how much faith can we put in their
objectivity when it comes to politically charged questions? In these cases, an
expert in one field will tend to agree with an expert in a different field, not
because they agree on the scientific facts, but merely because they share the
same political alignment, which is a quite different thing.
In the final
analysis, it is as foolish to blame the experts for not agreeing as it is to
blame the average guy for not being an expert. The difficulty we human beings
face in making the right decision is not owing to our lack of smarts. The
challenge we face is one we all face together—it stems from the maddening
complexity and relentless perversity of the world we live in. It is cognitive hubris
to think that any degree of intelligence or expertise can do away with this
most stubborn of all stubborn facts. The best hope for democracy still lies in
the unregulated marketplace of ideas— though, as in any market, the cautionary
maxim “Let the buyer beware” remains the surest safeguard against frauds,
cheats, and charlatans, including those waving their PhDs in your face.
