"An Educated Person Said Something I Already Believe"

And don’t I love when that happens.

Once in a while, Dr. M. alerts me to ideas psychological colleagues have put out.  The most recent example:  State of Confusion (2018), by Bryant Welsh, an attorney and clinical psychologist.  (And aren’t his parents proud.  As opposed to, “He wrote eleven episodes of Phyllis.”)

I will not read the whole book, because the print is quite small.  (The publisher’s telltale “give-away” revealing, “We love this book.  But ‘big print’ means more pages.”) 

Still, when the first paragraph reads,

“Do you think there might just be something a little off in America?  Psychologically speaking?”

I feel behooved to take heed.

I reproduce lines from Page 18 (in the middle, although closer to the top), which Dr. M read out loud, because her eyesight is better.

Listen to this.

And I quote:

“A fundamental aspect of human psychology is the mind’s effort, it’s outright need to have a reality it is certain of.  The reality it creates may or may not be accurate.  That is less important.  From the point of personal psychological need, it is better to feel certain than to be right.”

(INSERT DETONATING “BLAST OF ENLIGHTENMENT” SOUND HERE.)

You know who wrote, “People would rather feel good and be wrong than feel bad and be right”?

I did.

Not exactly in this blog, but close. 

I have accumulated notes on my stand-up desk, lingering for months because I cannot write the consequent post, for many reasons, not the least of which is,

“Who cares what you think about anything?”  (The words, “… that is meaningful” qualifyingly understood.)

Okay, fine.  But here’s a guy with two degrees and a book saying the same thing. 

Tell him he’s an idiot!

The following lesson is reiterated every time I write.  I put something down, and I think, “That’s it.  Those are ‘the right words.’”  Then – and it always surprises me – an alternative come to mind that is, if not better, at least equally okay.  Startled but happy, I abandon the first version, and I flexibly revise.

Making me realize, 

“There is not just one way.  There are a lot of ways – if not an infinite number then close – of “getting things right.”  (My first attempt being but one of them.)

And then I think,

“Virtually infinite number of words”?  “Virtually infinite number of arguments to put them in.”  It’s “just words”, after all.  You string them together, till like-minded people go “Yeah!”

And then, unlike with my writing, you clingingly stick to your guns, turning “subjective opinion” into “unwavering certainty.”

Handy Historical Example:

“Manifest Destiny.”

One of my favorites.

IMPORTANT EARLY AMERICAN:  “God wants us to have everything!”

By which he meant owning the North American continent, which they then proceeded to procure.  (Except for Canada, their assaults turned back by stalwart Canadians, and winter.)

Think about that.

Some American big shot says,

“Our ‘fervent wish’ is ‘Divinely ordained.’”  Everybody goes, “Great!” and look out, Native Americans.  (Wondering, “Isn’t ‘Manifest Destiny’ kind of convenient?”)

Another airtight example.  (Though one would probably suffice.  Hey, indulge me.  I’m on a “roll.”)

Introductory Set-Up:

Holding to what you “need outright” to believe is so emotionally potent you can ignore what is staring you contradictorily in the face. 

Check this out.

The Second Amendment to the American constitution begins,

“A well ordered Militia, being necessary for the security of a Free State…”

Clearly, they are talking about “militias.”  How do we know?  Because it says so.

Yet millions of people, including five deciding justices on the Supreme Court, argue,

“They’re not.”  (Talking about “militias” just ‘cause it says so.)

(Contradicting Chief Justice Warren Burger, a Republican appointee, who called the “individual rights” idea of the amendment “a fraud.”)

Wanting something to be true, a passionate minority looks at the Second Amendment as if its first 13 printed on parchment or otherwise words simply aren’t there.

Thirteen words, treated with psychological “White-Out”!  And there are twenty-seven words in the whole thing.

That’s almost half of the words!

“We believe what we believe.”

And don’t get me started on lawyers.

“In a trial, the ‘best story’ inevitably wins.”

A comfortably certain scenario.

Anyone care if it‘s true?

Well, but wait.  Hm.  Yeah.  (He adds, in a conciliatory “turn.”)

Aren’t I equally certain attorney-psychologist Bryant Welch, and by association yours truly, are right, and my airtight arguments prove it?

It is not just the people we oppose, clingiing to certainty because clinging to certainty feels great.  How do I know?  Because it feels great when I do it.

I’m not saying they’re right.

I’m just pondering the difference.