URSABLOG: A Stupid Question?

Sometimes, if I am completely honest with myself, I am exasperated by my own stupidity. This manifests itself in many ways, and far too frequently for my own liking, but I can take some comfort in the fact that I am not alone. And I can also take some comfort in the fact even if I am sometimes stupid it does not mean that I lack intelligence, so least I am not stupid some of time. When I get a bit insecure about my brain power I am tempted to try one of those online IQ tests. But when I get to the end of the test and have to pay some money to get the results, I decline, because surely I’m not that stupid, am I?

I sometimes find it hard to forgive myself for acting stupidly. There are times when I don’t have all the information to hand, others when I trust my gut instinct against all the facts screaming their objections, others when my emotions carry me away, and in yet others my stubbornness will carry me over the precipice and into the abyss of sublime stupidity. I should also mention in passing the act of behaving stupidly under the influence of alcohol. Of course, absolute and complete stupidity is a perfect storm combining all the above. The problem, however, is that sometimes, astounding success can come at moments when I trust my gut instinct, let my emotions carry me away, am stubborn in my beliefs, even in ignorance, even after having taken drink. What’s a boy to do?

I was relieved then to come across an article proving that not only is stupidity universal it is in fact hard-wired into us. The Evolution of Stupidity (and Octopus Intelligence), by Brian Klaas, gave me hope. Klaas draws heavily on David Krakauer (evolutionary biologist and president of the Santa Fe Institute). Instead of focusing on IQ, Krakauer prefers to think more generally about intelligence, ignorance, and stupidity:

– Ignorance is a lack of relevant data; you don’t have the information necessary to solve a problem.

– Intelligence is when you can derive simple solutions to complex problems and more relevant information helps you solve those problems faster, certainly faster than by trying solutions at random.

– Stupidity is when you use a rule, or a system of thought, in which adding more data or information doesn’t make it any more likely that you’ll get the correct answer. In the extremes of stupidity, a problem would actually be solved more slowly than just trying solutions derived from random chance.

Ignorance can be cured by learning more, by acquiring more information. Intelligence uses more relevant information to solve complex problems quicker and easier. Stupidity, however, can absorb all sorts of information, and repeat it, but if the underlying system of thought is flawed, or manipulated by what I would call psychological dissonance (learned behaviour, emotional bias, or alcohol), then it would still result in stupidity, perhaps multiplied exponentially. And there is, it seems, no limit to human stupidity.

This is on the face of it, depressing, but the human species is a wonderful thing, and – unique from other species – is able to outsource and retain information so that accumulated intelligence can then be accessed by future generations for their benefit. This information can be stored in books, films, pieces of music, religious and other rituals, architecture as well on computers, the internet and in the cloud. This evidence of our previous intelligence (science, art, philosophy, literature, craft, cooking, whatever) is out there from the very ancient to the most contemporary. Consider a weekend trip to Rome: even if you are blinded by romantic love in the arms of your beloved with only eyes and ears (and hands) for them, surely the very fact that you are wandering through a repository of millennia’s worth of human thought and action will rub off on you. We can, simply by being there, gain intelligence from the experience. This, as Krakauer argues, is what marks out us as a species: the ability to accumulate intelligence through cultural transfers.

With all this at my disposal, why am I so stupid sometimes? I have already identified stubbornness as a sure fire way to be sent to sit on the stupid step. But combined with ideology it can ensure permanent residence there. I do not just mean ideologies of the political, religious or philosophical kind. Markets have their own ideologies, masked in conventions and ‘rules’, easy short cuts that can blind us to the obvious. Indeed we absorb them as truths, without considering or questioning their truth.

Imagine you fall in love with somebody. And despite everything – all the evidence that this is stupidity of the highest order – you remain in love with the object of your desire. You have the full armory of the wisdom of human civilisation from Euripides through Boccacio to Shakespeare and Austen, and still you burst into tears when you hear ‘your’ song pop up on the Spotify playlist. The ideology of love is subjective, but tyrannically stubborn nonetheless.

Likewise, when markets are running up or down, the desire to do deals, or not to look stupid, or to follow ancient or accepted rules of thumb when everything is suggesting otherwise hardens into a dependence on ideology – in other words market orthodoxy – as a defence against uncomfortable reality. This in itself is stupid because the market always decides; the market – whatever market it is – is not one thing or person, but a bewildering combination of actions, thought, inputs, outputs that we should measure our successes or failures against, not the other way around. Why do I resist relevant, useful information simply because it does not match my ideology about how the market, and the world works?

When I berate my colleagues – and students – to think and engage more, I keep on saying that there is no such thing as a stupid question as long as it’s asked. In fact, I say, the only stupid question is the one that you don’t ask. I admit that I don’t always make it easy for my colleagues or students to ask questions whilst I am in the very act of berating them, but I hope you get my point.

But do I ask myself the questions that I need to? Am I being stupid by avoiding voicing my own doubt – even to myself – because I am afraid I will have to abandon much that I had thought – and felt – previously? Am I afraid that my carefully constructed world view, informed by all that I have done, read, thought, written, felt, worked for, enjoyed will collapse into dust if that question reveals my own stupidity? You bet I am. Is that stupid? You bet it is.

But that is reassuring in its own way. By coming to these conclusions, I can assess the gaps in my ignorance and find and use the information intelligently. It’s never too late. But examining my own stupidity requires courage and strength to combat the stubbornness of my own ideologies. Should I even bother attempting this? It would be stupid not to.

Simon Ward