Tag Archives: causal reasoning

Because They Said So

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We assume we can be in charge because our language easily lets us imagine it.

Rhetoricians like to say that language has its way with us. The phrase is meant to be a reminder that everyday language steers us to conclusions that usually promise more than we as individual agents can deliver. Word choice can easily create perceptions that can make the unlikely more likely, the improbable possible, the fantasy an outcome that will surely happen. We can tie a wish to an action verb, and we are off and running, creating expectations for circumstances that probably will not materialize. Who knew that simple verbs like “is” and “will” can trigger phantoms of deceit?  The phrase “because I say so” is a pretty empty reason.

What seems inescapable is that the ease of committing ourselves to the control of events verbally is easy but difficult in actual practice. This reality is something we’ve come to know all too well in any period of war, where action verbs suggest more control than we actually have. In his recent speech to military leaders, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth asserted that “Either we’re ready to win or we are not,” overstating a single two-tailed option the belies the functions of any military in these complicated times. Hegseth’s language fit the warrior ethos” and “male standard” that he was peddling. But problems associated with foreign policy and its entanglements are highly variable. These words hardly hint at the peacekeeping that arguably remains the long-term burden of the American military. In addition, the Secretary must know that nearly 20 percent of our troops are women. As is so often the case, circumstances on the ground tend to get lost in the neon glow of rhetoric too dim to clearly see the Truth.

Blame our overly deterministic language.

We construct the world as a web of causes and their presumed effects. It’s natural that we will place ourselves and our institutions in the driver’s seat. We assume we can be in charge because our language so easily lets us imagine it. Blame our overly deterministic language as well as the hubris it encourages. Both set up tight effects loops that seem clear on the page but elusive in life.

If we put individual verbs in a lineup, they look more or less innocent: words like affect, ready, make, destroy, are, causes, starts, produces, alters, stops, triggers, controls, contributes, changes, and so on. In the right company they are suggestive. But let them lose in the rhetoric of a leader determined to make his or her mark on the public stage, and they can be vacuous. This is the realm of the familiar idea of “unintended effects,” where what we intended and what actually happens are different. Verbs flatter us by making us active agents, but as President Trump has learned about Russia’s attacks on Ukraine, fantasies of power and control suggest more order in human affairs than usually exists.

There is another interesting twist here. The use of verbs to project expected outcomes is ironically aggravated by our devotion to the scientific method. As Psychologist Steven Pinker has observed, we can’t do science without buying into the view that we can identify first causes. That’s fine for discovering the origins of a troublesome human disease. But even though this logic has spread through the culture, it cannot hold when we immerse ourselves in the infinite complexities of human conduct. Discovering as opposed to fantasizing the reasons and motivations of others is difficult. Add in large entities such as nations or tribes, and first causes of their conduct are often unknowable. And so strategic calculations based on efforts to influence or control behavior are bound to produce disappointment.

It’s a great paradox that we are so easily outgunned by the stunningly capricious nature of the human condition. Take it from someone who has spent a lifetime writing and teaching why people change their minds. We have models, theories and loads of experimental research. But making predictions about any specific instance is almost always another case of hope defeated by extenuating circumstances. We may be able to say what we want, giving eloquent expression to the goals we seek. Our verbs may sing their certainty. But forces we can’t predict are going to produce their own effects.

Don’t Count on Straight Line Effects

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Blame our desire for simple cause and effect reasoning.  

Anyone who spends a lot of time thinking about how Americans are persuaded will have no shortage of suggested strategies for particular situations.  “Strategic Communication” is its own distinct sub-area of the communication field, mostly predicated on the idea that certain rhetorical inputs are likely to lead to particular effects.  Most of us employ some version of this model.  For example, you may be confident about predicting what will happen when you push Uncle Fred’s hot buttons.

Researchers in the 1930’s looking at the effects of film content on audiences similarly assumed large and uniform results:  “magic bullets” that would work on  most members in the same way. In our time, we may think that reminding a supporter that Trump’s actions offend the norms of the office will soften their enthusiasm. For example, he recently decided he would comment on Federal Reserve policy: a  line no modern president has crossed.  One model for the prediction is “dissonance theory.” You might assume that Donald Trump’s behavior is at odds with the supporter’s core values. Pointing that out ought to create mental stress and, therefore, the supporter’s reassessment. That’s one strategic equation.  Yet, the attitudes of supporters seem reasonably resilient.  Indeed, there is usually no “magic bullet” for producing change.  Those 30’s researchers were surprised by the non-uniform responses their received.  And it’s clear that attacks on the President frequently have the reverse of their intended effects.  His supporters have dug in.

The reasons we don’t get straight line effects are numerous, but mostly cluster around some version of what psychologists used to call “selective perception” and what communication people call “motivated reasoning.”  In both cases we look for alternative stories or accounts that can mitigate another’s assertion that we hold inconsistent views.  We find ways to dismiss the world we don’t want to see.

 What we are missing in this straight-line sequence is the  serendipity of individual initiative.       

In addition, blame our desire for simple cause and effect reasoning.  A common social science paradigm usually has us looking for first causes and subsequent effects.  Ostensibly, these chains offer a straight line of actions and subsequent behavioral results.  But what we are missing in this view is the serendipity of individual initiative: what sociologist Robert Merton partly meant by the familiar idea of “unintended consequences.”  It asks us to make generous allowances for human u-turns, wrong turns, delays, and alternate routes.  Indeed, some of us are world-class deniers.

When I entered into study of persuasion years ago I was certain that first causes could be identified with some reliability.  But years of study have moved me closer to a model that gives much wider latitude to the possibilities of disruption and denial.  This is a kind of ‘pattern of no patterns’ that seems built into the American character and is easily obscured in social science reporting that needs to show clear effects.

It is human nature to be unpredictable.  Sometimes even Uncle Fred may surprise us.