The Problem With Certainty

What is the problem with certainty? None, some might say, and at one level I would agree. There can be only good in being certain that my wife loves me. Or at a mundane level, there can’t be anything wrong with being certain that my car will start in the morning, that the sun will shine, that most people have good intentions. Of course, for all of these there is a chance I am incorrect, and I cannot prove in any scientific sense that my certainty is warranted---due in part to the fact that the feeling of certainty is mostly subjective.

Certainty is relative for most things---we are certain to a degree. Naturally, each of us has one or two areas for which certainty is absolute, such as the deist’s complete acceptance that God exists or the atheist’s complete acceptance that God does not exist.

Certainty is the feeling that some things, events or even ideas, usually having some importance, are predictable or stable to a level that prohibits the rise of anxiety. This certainty offers support that everyone needs to some degree, each of us differently. For most people, the sensation that things are flying apart, are uncontrollable, that there is nothing to hold onto, induces fear and anxiety, often at extreme levels. Some uncertainty exists in all societies, but once it reaches an undefined level for an individual or for the general population (different for each person/society), societal unrest arises.

Thus, some level of certainty is needed for a society, family, or individual to function well. Such certainty is usually provided by various formal and informal structures, including governmental, civic and religious ones; by rules, standards, conventions, and moral strictures; and by individuals with some generally acknowledged authority. That group includes police, teachers, parents, priests/rabbis, the military, various experts, etc. We rely on all of these to some extent to give solidity and consistency to our lives. We know we can count on them to provide firmness to our existence.

But if certainty is part of how we live, and indeed that we need some degrees of it, what is the problem? There are two aspects, one societal and one individual, and the two are intimately connected.

At the societal level, the 60’s rebellion against authority led gradually to the degradation or elimination of structures, etc., that gave us solidity, and overall societal wellbeing suffered. Most dramatically this showed up in the loss of the sense that we had something we could hang onto, and which we could count on being there. I fully accept that many of these strictures, rules, etc., needed to be thrown out, especially those dealing with the repression of women and homo-phobia, for just two examples. Unfortunately, in proponents’ enthusiasm to dismantle authority of nearly any type, the baby was thrown out with the bath water. Little was left to give solidity to people’s lives, resulting in considerable anxiety and fear.

As social forces undermined even healthy authority and sources of certainty, individuals tried to instill stability in their lives by less healthy methods, one of which, going under the guise of free expression, is the powerful and often narcissistic emphasis on “me” first. Unfortunately, parents and some teachers aided and abetted this trend by emphasizing that self-esteem could be promoted in children by constantly telling them they are special, a view now solidly disproven. These efforts had the further effect of promoting the idea that moral relativism rules---I do exactly what I want to do, and no one can tell me differently. If you are offended, or even harmed, by my behavior, tough on you.

These efforts arose in part at least because of the vacuum of healthy certainty. They superficially appear to give the person license to do whatever he chooses. There are to be no repercussions or personal responsibility for his acts, and he can believe such actions will provide solidity to his world---an unfortunate failed view. Since these unhealthy methods do not work, anxiety and fear remain or increase, precipitating the endless search for anything that will fill the vacuum, that will provide the certainty so desperately desired. Paradoxically, taking responsibility for one’s acts was one of the important stabilizing elements in times past, something that gave both meaning and structure to one’s life.

Young people, teens especially, are in need of healthy stability systems, but finding few, they resort to looking for certainty in unhelpful places. For some youth, the need to find stability somewhere is so strong that getting a social media “like” is vital. But like all such efforts, it is unsatisfying because it is subject to whim, and temporary because it lacks any forms of permanence.

The latest vehicle for obtaining a sense of solidness in life affects young and old alike---“If there is no helpful societal certainty around me, all it takes is for me to be certain and all will be well.” The healthy desire for a normal level of certainty going unsatisfied has led to an exaggerated need for certainty in life in general and in interpersonal interactions in particular.

A high need for certainty breeds absolutism of thought and action---such folks (certaintists) MUST be right. Those who disagree are not only wrong on all counts, but they are likely to be seen as evil as well, and the topic is irrelevant---it could be anything. This augurs ill for quality and respectful interactions as the certaintist sees all disagreement as zero-sum, and his desperate need for certainty compels him to do whatever is necessary to win, no matter how unpleasant.

Unfortunately for the certaintist, even if he prevails over an “opponent,” he accomplishes nothing beneficial. Besides ruining relationships, he is trying to fill an inner emptiness with external elements---an impossibility, as youths discover in trying to fill an inner void with social media “likes.” Fear and anxiety continue, no matter what.

Excessive certainty is about removing ideas and actions from consideration. The stronger the certainty, the fewer avenues of existence, thought or action that are acceptable to a person. This challenges the life of a certaintist because having few options for response to differing situations is hugely detrimental for personal well-being.

The political landscape in recent decades has mirrored the great increase in the need for certainty at all cost. As people desperately look for ever-more certainty in all the wrong ways, the divide between left and right has grown, and along with it anger, judgmentalism, and overt hostility. Many in each party view those in the other party with total dismay and disgust. I do not know if the political and the need-for-certainty changes are causally linked, correlated, or unrelated. But my sense is they are connected in some way. As people’s options for dealing with the world diminish, they adopt a simplistic either/or world view, reflecting a resort to excessive certainty. Those with differing views represent a huge threat to well-being in the partisan’s eyes, which would account for the fear of, distaste for, and trashing of the “other.”

The dramatic need for absolute certainty means great difficulty in recreating, if along different lines than in the past, a more unified and healthy set of national values, behaviors, and structures. The excessive need for certainty is a separator. It divides people and causes the society to fragment. Because we lost some of the healthy elements that offered a sense of solidity and continuity in the past, we are indeed fragmenting, driven by an ethic of “every person for himself” and “every group for itself.” Naturally, the fragmentation is enhanced by the vicious denunciations of the “other” as like-feeling (it is not thinking at all) people coalesce around intense dislike if not outright hate. And contrary to much popular, but deeply erroneous opinion, one party does not have a monopoly on the hate of opponents.

Lastly, as healthy certainty dissolves, and the sense of being lost surfaces, people’s needs for control increase. Like the other false steps in trying to obtain more healthy certainty, increasing one’s control efforts usually back fires. Other people, including family, friends, or neighbors dislike being manipulated by pressure, victimhood, or guilt trips, all techniques controllers use easily and often. And those who disagree, who are on the receiving end of the most force, find such efforts to be particularly irritating. Attempting to increase control is akin to the Buddhist concept of clutching, much as a drowning man desperately tries to grab the water. He can save himself only by letting go, just as letting go is the only way to find healthy certainty.

Completeness or Incompleteness

Do we live in a world of completeness or incompleteness? Most folks intuitively sense that incompleteness is far more prominent than completeness. Is there anything that is complete, static, unmoving? Probably only very rare things like God and aspects of mathematics, and even those are simply accepted as complete without proof. Everything else is changing, including the mountains whose intensely gradual movement is invisible to us.

Just as we would not refer to a complete mountain, we cannot refer to a complete human being, even though some people assert that spiritual exercises or belief in a supreme being, or even science, can bring this about. Perhaps. But the number of such people, assuming their condition is even verifiable, is vanishingly small.

Of course we can talk about “completions” in a simple sense, such as when we finish a budget, a round of golf, a prayer, a vacation trip, a book, a meditation or often best of all, a drink. But my interest is not in such completions. It is in the Incompleteness Theorems proposed by the great Austrian mathematician, Kurt Godel, and the application of those to our lives.

Both theorems deal with highly complex mathematics. The first Theorem says that all logical systems are likely to have inherent flaws because they are based on unprovable assumptions. The second Theorem says that seeing a system from the inside may indicate that it is consistent and whole. And it may be, but we cannot determine that without going outside the system. The key insight is that internal flaws are not visible from inside any system.

So what? you might say. That’s all about highly sophisticated math and it has no relevance for everyday life. At one level that is certainly true. At another, I think not. Deepak Chopra, in the fine book, War of the Worldviews, says “If I boldly take this out of the realm of numbers, Godel is saying that unprovable things are woven into our explanation of reality.”

For example, most secular humanists believe that God does not exist, but cannot prove it. Religious people believe firmly in God’s existence, but also cannot prove it. Each accepts his own belief as complete, while seeing the other’s belief as not just incomplete, but dead wrong into the bargain. For each the world is workable in his terms, seeing and acting as he does with an insider’s view. But neither can escape the limits imposed by his own system of thought and belief, and this is often a source of often great animosity between the two.

Although the unprovable assumptions are the root from which many of our personal and societal problems grow, it is not always they that cause the trouble in our relations with others. It is that we accept them and their legitimacy at face value, if we are aware of them at all. And this acceptance is accompanied by a great emotional force, a large hindrance to seeing outside our own systems of belief and thought.

Leonard Mlodinow, the other author with Chopra of War of the Worldviews, gives a fine example of contrasting but workable world views. Imagine a goldfish in round bowl. As it looks out of the bowl, an object moving on a straight path is perceived to be moving in a curved path. An observer outside the bowl sees the object’s linear movement and does not see the curved movement. Contrasting views, but they work within each world.

Human society is not so fortunate. Differences in world views would not be the personal or societal problems they are if people holding them did not interact. But we engage constantly with people whose views we do not share or whose behavior we do not like. We have an insider’s view of our own beliefs and thus cannot subject them to a rigorous critique. And we have an outsider’s view of the other’s beliefs and imagine we can subject them to such a critique. But the challenge is that our assumptions and biases usually preclude us from making a fair analysis.

From the last post I repeat George Friedman’s prescient comment from his fine book, Flashpoints, “There is always a price, and nothing is more dangerous than not knowing what the price is, except perhaps not wanting to know.” One of those prices occurs in failing to appreciate the natural incompleteness of one’s views and positions, leading to absolutism of thought and action, anathema to a healthy person, group or society.

A particularly damaging view arising from absolutism is perfectionism, a belief that humans and their systems are perfectible. We can totally solve societal conflict, we can ensure that no one’s feelings will ever be hurt, we can eliminate poverty, we can guarantee total social success by electing only people from my party, we can make everyone equal with enough money and government effort---these are all examples of perfectionism, mainly from the political realm. While admirable in intent, these views are unworkable because those holding them fail utterly to understand the lessons of human history and what we know of human psychology.

Perfectionism obviously implies completeness, that there are definitive Answers to complex societal problems and differences, instead of approximations of answers. Godel confirms that there is no such thing as a perfect or complete system, no matter what humans think or want. This should give us pause in our thinking, and certainly in our acting. Incompleteness is a fact of existence, and may well be the one that matters most in human relations.

The belief that there are Answers that totally resolve an issue is demonstrated by people who think and accept at absolute face value that their ideas are both correct and workable. Their efforts will produce the complete outcome they have in mind, and there will not be any unintended consequences. Further, and much more dangerous, such folks have an unshakable belief in the moral rightness and purity of their thoughts, beliefs and motives---completeness personified in them. Naturally, this absolutism means that people with a different perspective cannot be tolerated, and must be demeaned if not crushed.

There are two ways of looking at completeness. The first may be clear from comments above. It says that humans can be complete (are perfectible) and can have complete views and produce complete systems and positive outcomes, without flaws. Thus, it falls prey to Godel’s Incompleteness Theories---internal flaws very likely exist everywhere and are invisible within the system. Because such folks hold their views and motives in perfect regard, seeing outside the self-contained system is virtually impossible. Why look outside a system or set of views that is accepted at face value as being complete? This perspective has the obvious unintended and undesirable outcome of adding to personal conflict and societal disturbance instead of reducing them, all of which is deniable by those locked in their own system.

The other version is more realistic and more useful in that it accepts both Godel’s Theories and the inherently flawed nature of humanity in the sense that Kant did: “Out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing was ever made.” This does not literally mean that humans cannot produce anything good. It means that our all-too-human predilections, such as unconscious biases, excessive personal needs, and irrationality often get in our way. This view respects the idea that troubling societal problems are not completely solvable, but may be amenable to approximations of improvement---we progress fitfully.

In this view, each success is a struggle against our own “crookedness,” which pushes us into the damaging perfectionist view, so comforting and so wrong. Each success, whether societal or personal, arises because we have, for the moment at least, escaped the prison and falseness of our internal consistency, possible only by seeing our views from outside.

We move toward completeness to the degree that we give up the idea of completeness, of perfection, and act to constantly uncover our desire to see everything from within the framework of our systems of thought, belief and emotion---what might be termed in Eastern thought as incomplete completeness. The Zen cat waits for no one.

The Road to Character

This title comes directly from that of David Brooks’ most recent book, a series of mini-biographies of people who Brooks believes embody the elusive personal quality of character. Specifically, Brooks is referring to moral character, evidenced by those who, “…possess the self-effacing virtues of people who are inclined to be useful but don’t need to prove anything to the world: humility, restraint, reticence, temperance, respect, and soft self-discipline.” These traits all deserve attention, but I will talk mainly about humility, which is a vital foundation.

These traits indicate a person who has come to terms with the world as it is, and has often (as in Brooks' examples) gone through torment and emerged a better person from the "...struggle to deepen the soul."  Brooks quotes Thomas Merton: “Souls are like athletes that need opponents worthy of them, if they are to be tried and extended and pushed to the full use of their powers.” We have seen such people, although rarely. They show great emotional balance, and an inner cohesion and integration---they act with complete integrity. There is a strong sense that they will not be easily damaged by adverse circumstances, and can be relied upon in the worst of moments.

I was struck by the fact that those portrayed were not superheroes, nor did they embody all the characteristics mentioned above. Even though they accomplished much, they had flaws. Nonetheless, they all demonstrated great inner strength, most often under conditions of extreme stress or in arduous effort that lasted for years or decades. Life’s challenges brought out the best in them, and others benefitted.

Talking about humility in the recent past, Brooks says, “…there was a moral ecology…encouraging people to be more skeptical of their desires, more aware of their own weaknesses, more intent on combating the flaws in their own natures and turning weakness into strength. People in this tradition, I thought, are less likely to feel that every thought, feeling, and achievement should be immediately shared with the world at large.”

James K. A. Smith reviews the book in the Fall, 2015 edition of “The Hedgehog Review.” According to Smith, “Those eager to read The Road to Character are likely already receptive to its argument, whereas those who inhabit the moral ecology of self-expression and so-called authenticity are also most comfortable with ironic distance and haughty confidence in their own righteousness. Brooks’ argument cuts to the root of this: There’s no character without discipline. There’s no discipline without submission. And there’s no submission without something beyond me.”

So, character requires discipline and submission to something greater than oneself. In today’s environment, discipline, submission, and self-effacement are not at all popular. Rather, the ethic is self-promotion and seeing oneself as the center of the universe---the opposite of humility. In his research, Brooks looked at this ethic and commented, “The self-effacing person is soothing and gracious, while the self-promoting person is fragile and jarring. Humility is freedom from the need to prove you are superior all the time,…”

We can see the “fragile and jarring” aspect in many people as they desperately, and futilely, try to fill an inner void with external applications. The self-promoter cannot attend to the well-being of others because he is so stressed trying to find a place for himself in life. He does not understand how the world works, and thus wastes energy and time trying to create a reality that cannot exist, running roughshod over others in his need.

Unlike the self-promoter and those with a “haughty confidence in their own righteousness,” people who focus on themselves, the humble person focuses on her obligations to others, near or far, rather than on her rights. There is a constant refrain these days about rights, at all levels and aspects of society, from families to universities to corporations. But there is hardly a whisper about our obligations to others, a view that is clearly and regrettably in bad odor. Focusing on rights divides us, while focusing on obligations unifies us.

The path to character runs right through humility.

Anti-fragile

The concept of fragility and anti-fragility is useful for looking candidly at ourselves and our relationships with others, and thereby at least indirectly enhancing deep happiness. In the prior two posts I introduced the framework and showed fragility’s connection to us at the personal level. In this one I want to talk more about anti-fragility and why it is beneficial for us to understand and acquire, and how we might do so. But, first, let me review emotional fragility a bit. 

The fragile person has an excessive investment of focus, energy and emotion in a particular desired state, one that MUST happen. This needful state could involve a job, idea, person, car, or vacation. Or it could be the “fulfillment” of a deep personal need, such as to be right or to be certain. Or it could be really simple---irritation at the computer not working or needing to overwhelm someone who disagrees with us. These fragile states pop in and out constantly through the day, temporarily knocking us off balance, and causing suffering for us and those around us.  

Anti-fragility does not mean being unaffected by challenges, disruptions, and disappointments. The world often intrudes in ways that upset us, and we cannot plan for these or avoid them. These intrusions can cause fear, anger, anxiety, uncertainty and a host of other emotions, normal reactions to unanticipated or undesirable events or other people’s behavior. The difference between a fragile person and an anti-fragile one is the reaction to the stressor.  

Anti-fragility is also not necessarily about being robust, which Taleb, the author of Anti-fragile, says is being impervious to injury. A ceramic cup is fragile to rough handling and very fragile to falling on concrete. A steel cup is not at all fragile to the same concrete; it is robust.  For humans, a bit of robustness is not a bad thing unless it gets in the way of being anti-fragile, as it would with an excessive desire to “armor-up” to protect us from experiencing stressors. Such an effort actually causes greater fragility. Healthy robustness and anti-fragility arise as we learn (grow) how to take hits without being knocked off balance.  

A key aspect to developing anti-fragility is accepting stressors as information that encourages us to see things differently. Each disappointment, set-back, or interaction with a disagreeable person is a chance to practice our new understanding of how stressors impact us, and how we can better respond to them. Each is a chance to grow, to achieve equanimity and inner harmony, the “rewards” for understanding our fragility and acting to reduce that every day. And, I cannot over-emphasize the need for continued practice, forever.  

What are some characteristics that we could adopt that will help becoming more anti-fragile? The most important is self awareness---“… having a clear perception of your personality, including strengths, weaknesses, thoughts, beliefs, motivation, and emotions.” (ref:pathwaytohappiness.com) Without self awareness, there is almost no possibility of becoming a truly emotionally healthy person. More self awareness equals more anti-fragility. 

Curiosity is also vital because without it we will not examine our behavior and its adverse outcomes. Taleb says that curiosity is anti-fragile because through it we come to know and understand more about ourselves and the world. As we inquire, we become reservoirs of options that we may need in case of a stressor, which can often be as simple as someone disagreeing with us on whether Ayn Rand’s philosophy has any merit to it. Simply, the more options we have in dealing with a stressor, the more likely we are to respond healthily to it. As George Leonard said in his superb book, The Way of Aikido, “…the health of an individual…is generally directly proportionate to the number of perceived options at (his) command.” Options are anti-fragile. 

A very simple example regarding options and their benefit: imagine another car cuts me off, and I get angry, in the past my usual emotional default when things don’t go right. I have no options, and am clearly fragile to the situation. I am off balance. But what happens if I have options, such as intellectually analyzing (without judgment) what the driver did, extending compassion to that person, or ignoring the whole thing? Clearly my path to greater anti-fragility is enhanced by having these options. 

Fearlessness is clearly a vital ingredient in developing anti-fragility. Lacking it, any curiosity and self-awareness will be short-circuited. Fear may be the largest and most serious hurdle that we have to overcome in the search for greater emotional health, for greater anti-fragility. 

As I have noted in other posts, the BIG problem with acquiring the anti-fragile characteristics (or others related to changes in behavior) is that we are legends in our own minds, having constructed positive, and often false, stories about who we are and how we interact with others. I know any number of folks who are sure they are self aware, when their actions clearly indicate the opposite. And the same is true of being curious and fearless. Thus, while many might agree that the characteristics I describe are helpful, such folks are unlikely to make much progress in developing them. The blindness or denial costs them---there is no free lunch in trying to make ourselves what we are not. Being fragile has a price. As George Friedman says in his fine book, Flashpoints, “There is always a price, and nothing is more dangerous than not knowing what the price is, except perhaps not wanting to know.” 

Creating more anti-fragility is wise for at least two reasons. One of those, the possibility of growing from stressors and uncertainty, I have already mentioned. The other is that anti-fragility reduces our inappropriate emotional or dependence on things, including ideas, people and events, and thus assists us in living a more harmonious life.