Go Away, Secret Admirer
It’s an eerie form of passive aggression.
It’s an eerie form of passive aggression.
I have a basic philosophical difference with someone I love very much. He thinks that large scale governmental, or even global, conspiracies are possible. I on the other hand, think that’s doolally with a capital doo.
I suppose it boils down to which you think is more powerful: government evil or government stupidity. Having worked for the government, I can assure you that it will be stupidity every single time. Oh, they’d like to conspire, believe you me, and sometimes they’ll get away with things for a little while, but they are not capable of that level of organization and overall thought control in the long term.
Governments, after all, are composed of nothing more than masses of individuals, each with their own opinions and moral code. Many like to gossip. Some like to profit from insider information. Some want the spotlight. The vast majority have their eyes glued to the clock, looking forward to going home to their families. And then you have those pesky malcontents and whistle-blowers to contend with.
And in this era of social media, camera phones, satellite imagery, and traffic cameras, it’s really rather impossible to hide inconvenient things like the construction of concentration camps and the digging of mass graves.
The truth will out.
To pull off a conspiracy, you have to be certain that every individual involved thinks the way you want them to think and acts the way you want them to act. For the rest of their lives. Think about it. We don’t even have confidence that that can occur for even a few seconds.
Next time you’re at a traffic light, consider this: When the light turns green, every single person in line should be able to instantly accelerate and be perfectly fine. Like train cars, if we all move at the same speed at the same time, we would not crash into each other. But no. We don’t all instantly accelerate. The first one goes, there’s a slight pause, then the next one goes, and so on, to the point where there is a substantial delay if you are at the end of the line. Why is this? Well, duh. We can’t be confident that everyone will have the same reaction speed, the same engine power, and that some doofus isn’t in the middle of texting his girlfriend. (“I love u, too!” “No! I love u more! <3” )
It’s the same with conspiracies. To think that human beings are automatons who will march in perfect lockstep one hundred percent of the time is to set entirely too much stock in the abilities of the human race. More than two people cannot keep a secret.
My friend has an admirably high opinion of humanity’s ability to function like a colony of bees. I, on the other hand, believe that most of us are just trying to get through life in one piece. Which one of us is more cynical? Hard to say.
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“I have come to the conclusion that my subjective account of my own motivation is largely mythical on almost all occasions. I don’t know why I do things.”
– J.B.S. Haldane
(Image credit: digitallydownloaded.net)
As I write this, I am wearing the most comfortable socks I’ve ever owned. And to add to their allure, they have the word “condom” woven across the sole. It’s like walking around with my own little secret that no one would guess unless I chose to reveal it.
These socks were given to me by a dear friend who volunteers as an HIV counselor. It’s one of the incentives they give out when someone gets tested, as I did recently. When they came in, he texted me. “We have condom socks!” and I replied, “For foot fetishists?”
No one is certain as to the logic behind these socks, but I suppose a certain number of people like to do the deed with their socks on and this allows them to quietly remind their partners that safe sex is a good idea. And before you ask (because believe me you wouldn’t be the first), no, there is no reservoir in the toe.
I was sitting in the library the other day with my condom socks on, and I started looking around at people, wondering what secrets they wear, even though they’re in public. My sister used to like to wear lacy girly undergarments beneath her Air Force uniform, for instance. And I was looking at the men, thinking, “Boxers, briefs or commando?” when it suddenly occurred to me that a certain number might be wearing women’s underwear. No one would know.
And then there are those who have hidden tattoos. How many of those are cherished, and how many are an embarrassment from an impetuous youth? And prison tattoos. You can spot them from a mile away if they’re not covered up.
Jewelry can be highly personal, too. It can even be out in the open, but you have no idea what its significance might be to the wearer. Take wedding rings. How many are worn with joy, and how many emotionally chafe to the point that one longs to toss them in the nearest retention pond?
And how many victims of abuse are hiding their bruises, cuts and scars? How many people sport needle tracks? How many have visible health issues which they are desperately concealing?
If you’re like me, you look at people every day and you make certain assumptions based on the picture that they present to the world. But when you think about it, it’s such a thin veneer that is revealed to us. There’s so much more that could reside just a few millimeters below the surface. We are all encased in cocoons of privacy, whether it’s obvious or not.
When my late sister wanted to push my buttons, she would say, “You have very strong opinions.” For decades, this put me in a place where I could not win. I wanted her approval so much that I’d try not to have strong opinions. I’d try not to have any opinions at all. I’d try to figure out exactly where I was wrong, or bad or crazy. I’d try to change who I was, and I’d fail, and therefore feel even worse about myself.
Then one day in my early 40’s it occurred to me that maybe the reason she felt that my opinions were so strong was that they weren’t being changed by her often contradictory ones. I realized that everyone is entitled to an opinion. I express my opinions, yes, but I never insist that the rest of the world agree with me. In fact, I find that in general I’m not particularly persuasive. I finally said to my sister, “Yeah, but as long as I’m not forcing those opinions on you, what difference does it make?” And just like that, after decades of what felt like pure torture to me, that particular button was never pushed again.
Opinions. Everybody’s got ‘em.
Just recently, in my internet wanderings, I was introduced to a concept called confirmation bias. Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about it:
“Confirmation bias (also called confirmatory bias or myside bias) is a tendency of people to favor information that confirms their beliefs or hypotheses. People display this bias when they gather or remember information selectively, or when they interpret it in a biased way. The effect is stronger for emotionally charged issues and for deeply entrenched beliefs. For example, in reading about current political issues, people usually prefer sources that affirm their existing attitudes. They also tend to interpret ambiguous evidence as supporting their existing position.”
I suppose I always knew that confirmation bias existed, but I never knew it had a name or that so many studies have been done about it. I’m willing to concede that every one of us is guilty of confirmation bias, but here’s where it gets dangerous: people in the throes of confirmation bias can make bad investments, poor choices, or break laws. Have you ever said, “It seemed like a good idea at the time…”
Economies have been destroyed and wars have been waged by people influenced by their own confirmation bias. It is why the concept of bloodletting persisted for 2,000 years, and why there are still people, even today, who think the world is flat, and that man has never walked on the moon. Confirmation bias is the bedrock of every cult and lunatic fringe militia on the face of the earth.
Unfortunately, it’s also a major factor in many forms of mental illness. Depressed? It will be so much easier to believe the negative things said about you, your circumstances, or the world in general, thanks to your old friend confirmation bias. Schizophrenic? It’s not that hard to find people who agree with the voices in your head. Hypochondriac? Someone will gladly confirm your diagnoses for a price, and since they agree with you, they must be more right than those doctors who are telling you that you’re fine. Paranoid? In this information age, when any nut case can have a platform to express his views (including me!), you’re bound to find “evidence” to support your conspiracy theories.
The good news is there are things you can do to reduce your confirmation bias.
Of course, all of this is my opinion. Feel free to decide for yourself.