There’s another component to developing critical thinking skills: the awareness of our own biases. We tend to find “truth” in things that line up with our preconceived notions. I’m not saying this is a bad thing; in fact, I’d suggest that this ability is advantageous. If we were unable to connect the dots between what we know and new input, the process of adding to our existing body of knowledge would take forever. The challenge of course is that if something is truly “new,” how do we know it’s worthy of being added to our databank (just to repeat the topic of these four blog postings, in case you missed it!)
But let’s go back to our own database for a moment. How do we know that “what we know” is actually true? Setting aside The Matrix concept, which itself was built around Descarte’s Evil Demon metaphor, how do we examine what we “know?”
First of all, I think it’s important to understand that we all have blind spots. These are called “scotomas” when referring to our vision. A scotoma is caused by a small spot in our retina where the optic nerve exits and thus no light receptors can be found. No light receptors, no vision in that spot. The reason we don’t notice it is because it’s not in the center of our field of vision and our brain “fills in” that area for us. The term has also been applied metaphorically for areas of our personality we can’t perceive. For example, you may believe you’re far from a sexist, but refer to the women in the office as “girls.” (Many years ago my lovely spouse helped me to see how that’s demeaning, even if I didn’t mean it as such!) Or you don’t believe you have a racist bone in your body, yet you see an Asian person driving poorly and you extrapolate that to all orientals.
This concept has been extended to include attitudes as well. I attended a workshop shortly after I returned to Metagenics where the speaker (Lou Tice) described scotomas and applied them to our thinking processes; he said we figuratively can’t see our own biases and attitudes and that those inhibit us from reaching our potential. He tied it into how our unconscious mind programs our actions through our self-talk. So if we believe ourselves to be incapable of something, that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy; if we want to break through that then we need to change our self-talk. I won’t go into that in detail here, but it makes an interesting case for how we can change outcomes in our lives simply through repeating positive affirmations.
In any case, it seems clear to me that these philosophical blind spots exist, just as the literal blind spots in our retina. Becoming aware that you have them is probably the most important first step in dealing with them, which brings us back to critical thinking. Once aware of a the potential for blind spots, you start looking for them. You ask “Why do I believe something? Just because I’ve never questioned it?” That’s not good enough. I read once that a basic process of philosophical thought is the statement “I believe this to be true, but I could be wrong.”
I think that’s a pretty good mantra to live by. The awareness of the possibility of one’s own fallibility is the first big step to wisdom.
About BigBill
Stats: Married male boomer.
Hobbies: Hiking, woodworking, reading, philosophy, good conversation.
Thinking critically (part 4)
There’s another component to developing critical thinking skills: the awareness of our own biases. We tend to find “truth” in things that line up with our preconceived notions. I’m not saying this is a bad thing; in fact, I’d suggest that this ability is advantageous. If we were unable to connect the dots between what we know and new input, the process of adding to our existing body of knowledge would take forever. The challenge of course is that if something is truly “new,” how do we know it’s worthy of being added to our databank (just to repeat the topic of these four blog postings, in case you missed it!)
But let’s go back to our own database for a moment. How do we know that “what we know” is actually true? Setting aside The Matrix concept, which itself was built around Descarte’s Evil Demon metaphor, how do we examine what we “know?”
First of all, I think it’s important to understand that we all have blind spots. These are called “scotomas” when referring to our vision. A scotoma is caused by a small spot in our retina where the optic nerve exits and thus no light receptors can be found. No light receptors, no vision in that spot. The reason we don’t notice it is because it’s not in the center of our field of vision and our brain “fills in” that area for us. The term has also been applied metaphorically for areas of our personality we can’t perceive. For example, you may believe you’re far from a sexist, but refer to the women in the office as “girls.” (Many years ago my lovely spouse helped me to see how that’s demeaning, even if I didn’t mean it as such!) Or you don’t believe you have a racist bone in your body, yet you see an Asian person driving poorly and you extrapolate that to all orientals.
This concept has been extended to include attitudes as well. I attended a workshop shortly after I returned to Metagenics where the speaker (Lou Tice) described scotomas and applied them to our thinking processes; he said we figuratively can’t see our own biases and attitudes and that those inhibit us from reaching our potential. He tied it into how our unconscious mind programs our actions through our self-talk. So if we believe ourselves to be incapable of something, that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy; if we want to break through that then we need to change our self-talk. I won’t go into that in detail here, but it makes an interesting case for how we can change outcomes in our lives simply through repeating positive affirmations.
In any case, it seems clear to me that these philosophical blind spots exist, just as the literal blind spots in our retina. Becoming aware that you have them is probably the most important first step in dealing with them, which brings us back to critical thinking. Once aware of a the potential for blind spots, you start looking for them. You ask “Why do I believe something? Just because I’ve never questioned it?” That’s not good enough. I read once that a basic process of philosophical thought is the statement “I believe this to be true, but I could be wrong.”
I think that’s a pretty good mantra to live by. The awareness of the possibility of one’s own fallibility is the first big step to wisdom.
About BigBill
Stats: Married male boomer. Hobbies: Hiking, woodworking, reading, philosophy, good conversation.