Do you laugh at your mistakes? Even more important, do you leverage your mistakes?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kathryn Schulz’s book Being Wrong<\/em> encourages readers to view errors as opportunities for growth rather than sources of shame<\/a>. The book examines how perceptions of reality become distorted and offers strategies for gracefully accepting your fallibility.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Continue reading for an overview of this book that will help you enjoy, as Schulz puts it, “adventures in the margin of error.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Right now, at this very moment, you\u2019re wrong. What you\u2019re wrong about could be anything, from something as trivial as where you left your keys to something life-defining, such as a deeply held belief. Nevertheless, it\u2019s doubtful you can come up with a list of things you\u2019re wrong about off the top of your head. After all, it\u2019s belief in our ideas that allows us to function, regardless of whether we\u2019re wrong or right. Kathryn Schulz’s book Being Wrong<\/a><\/em>, published in 2010, argues that making mistakes is an essential part of human nature and that it shouldn\u2019t necessarily be our goal to eliminate every bit of error from our lives.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n Instead, Schulz writes that we should change how we view mistakes so that we can leverage our common human foibles to help us learn, explore the world around us, and maybe even laugh at ourselves once in a while. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Schulz is a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist whose work has covered a range of topics including immigration, civil rights issues, travel, cuisine, literary criticism, and the threat of earthquakes on the western US coast<\/a>. Her work has appeared in magazines, newspapers, and online publications, including The New Yorker<\/em>, Rolling Stone<\/em>, The Nation<\/em>, The Santiago Times<\/em>, and Grist<\/em>. She published her memoir, Lost & Found<\/em><\/a>, in 2022.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The idea that being wrong about something can be good <\/em>goes against what most of us are brought up to believe. We\u2019re told that making mistakes is \u201conly human,\u201d but we\u2019re also taught that making mistakes is a sign that we\u2019re stupid or have low moral standing. This is wrong, Schulz argues. She says that what\u2019s important is that we accept and learn from our mistakes<\/a><\/strong> because usually our mistakes don\u2019t hurt us as much as reacting to them poorly does. We\u2019ll begin by looking at how we define right and wrong and why clinging to our beliefs is a valid survival trait that nevertheless robs us of a healthy approach to error, even when those mistakes can enrich our lives.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Schulz doesn\u2019t define right and wrong in terms of \u201ctruth,\u201d<\/strong> instead focusing on the experience of changing your mind from one idea to another. This is because the traditional definition of \u201cbeing wrong\u201d\u2014that you believe something is true when it isn\u2019t\u2014implies that there\u2019s an underlying \u201ctruth\u201d that every belief can be judged against. While this may apply to some situations, such as misremembering where you left your keys, it doesn\u2019t hold for all situations, such as matters of personal taste or opinion. In these instances, we act <\/em>as if opinions can be wrong, such as whether pickles taste good or bad, even if there\u2019s no objective truth either way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Right and wrong are both essential aspects of human cognition, says Schulz. Being \u201cright\u201d\u2014assuming that beliefs are true and acting on them accordingly\u2014is a survival tool we inherited from our prehistoric peers. After all, if you\u2019re in the savannah and hear a noise you believe to be a lion, it\u2019s better to act on that belief without question than to wait and study the matter in depth, increasing your risk of turning into a snack. As a result, being right feels good, and evolution rewards that feeling. However, Schulz argues that our ability to be wrong is also <\/em>a survival skill in that it lets us imagine a different world than the one we live in<\/strong>\u2014a world that, while technically \u201cwrong,\u201d helps us look past our limited perceptions to solve problems.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Since we like to cling to the feeling that we\u2019re right, the conflicts we experience aren\u2019t between \u201cright\u201d and \u201cwrong,\u201d but between opposing views<\/a> of \u201cright,\u201d<\/strong> writes Schulz. Our society doesn\u2019t even afford us a healthy common language for admitting to mistakes without associated shame. Instead, we prioritize being right above all else while happily pointing out the mistakes of others. When we\u2019re forced to confront our errors, we\u2019ll either shift the blame or disassociate ourselves from our wrongness with the classic line, \u201cMistakes were made.\u201d This robs us of the lessons we might learn from opening ourselves to the chance that we\u2019re wrong, thereby harming relationships between people, cultures, religions, and nations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n If feeling that we\u2019re right is so ingrained in our thinking, how can we engage with being wrong in a way that doesn\u2019t undermine everything we believe? Schulz holds up modern science as an example of how to view being wrong as a stepping stone toward truth. The scientific method of theory and experimentation embraces the possibility of error in a way that shines a light on how we can harness mistakes in other areas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The way that science does this is by inverting the normal human mode of thinking<\/a>. Whereas we, as individuals and institutions, begin from the premise that our ideas are true until proven otherwise, scientists deliberately assume that any new theory or discovery may be false<\/strong> until it\u2019s been independently tested multiple times under a multitude of conditions. Schulz points out that, even when a new scientific idea has survived enough tests to be widely accepted, the testing and refinement of the theory never stops. The errors that do crop up along the way don\u2019t derail scientific progress\u2014instead, we see them as signposts toward the truth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Beside being useful as a tool to advance human understanding, the fact that our ideas about the world can be wrong is something that brings joy to all of our lives. If you find this hard to believe, consider that the disparity between how each of us views the world from each other\u2014a multitude of opinions that cannot all be \u201cright\u201d\u2014is the genesis of humor, art, and the quirks that make each of us unique.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Some people believe the whole point of humor is to point out mistakes in a way that\u2019s pleasant and easy to digest.<\/strong> At its basic level, such as classic \u201cpratfall\u201d humor, we laugh at other people\u2019s mistakes, and\u2014if we\u2019re strong enough to take a joke\u2014we laugh at errors of our own. Schulz points out that more complicated humor also revolves around harnessing wrongness\u2014a comedian says something that creates an expectation, then shows that expectation to be wrong in a way that briefly confuses the listener until they \u201cget the joke.\u201d Not all humor works this way, but enough of it does that it\u2019s one of comedy\u2019s defining traits, as epitomized by the medieval \u201ccourt jester\u201d who was the only one allowed to make fun of the king.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It\u2019s easier to consider the pros and cons of being wrong on an intellectual level than it is to truly experience being wrong. This is because of what\u2019s known as \u201cerror blindness\u201d\u2014our inability to see our own mistakes in the moment. How we react to discovering we\u2019re wrong depends on how much our thinking has to change and whether that change will be pleasant or unpleasant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There are two distinct reactions you can have to finding out that you\u2019re wrong about something. The first is revulsion\u2014immediately after making a mistake, such as calling a friend by someone else\u2019s name, you might say, \u201cI feel sick,\u201d \u201cI want to throw up,\u201d or even \u201cshoot me now,\u201d all of which are expressions of pain and the desire to end it quickly. But Schulz says this isn\u2019t our only mode of feeling\u2014in addition to the pain of certain types of error, we also feel elation at a happy surprise,<\/strong> such as when you run into a friend you hadn\u2019t expected to see for a while. Both types of error, both pleasant and painful, define how we feel about being wrong, though we tend to feel the negative more often than the positive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n However, Schulz points out that the feelings we associate with being wrong always occur after the fact. In the instant you call your friend the wrong name or make an erroneous statement, you don\u2019t feel as if you\u2019re wrong<\/a> at all, because in your mind you\u2019re not. Therefore, the real-time experience of being wrong is no different from the experience of being right.<\/strong> What\u2019s more, even when you discover that you\u2019re wrong, you do so by replacing the wrong belief with a corrected belief. In other words, you don\u2019t change from being wrong to right, you change from feeling that you\u2019re right in one way<\/em> to feeling that you\u2019re right in a different way<\/em>. The pain of mistakes is the pain of having been<\/em> wrong, not that of being wrong in the present.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Schulz suggests that people don\u2019t change a belief until they have a new one to replace the old one. <\/strong> We rarely, if ever, get stuck in the transition because, as a rule, we don\u2019t reconsider beliefs in isolation\u2014we always need two or more to compare, which can sometimes make changing a belief take a while.<\/p>\n\n\n\n How tightly we cling to any given belief falls somewhere on the spectrum between doubt and certainty<\/a>. Schulz argues that certainty is the default position for more of our beliefs than we realize, and while that\u2019s necessary for us to get through the day, it carries inherent dangers that only the discomfort of doubt can assuage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To be certain about the basic rules of life is more than a comfort, it\u2019s a necessity.<\/strong> Consider how many beliefs we take so much for granted that we don\u2019t even think of them as beliefs. We\u2019re sure that an object will fall if we drop it. We\u2019re sure that the sun will come up in the morning. We\u2019re sure we need food and water to survive. Schulz explains that our whole understanding of the world is built on a framework of beliefs so fundamental that it wouldn\u2019t make sense to doubt any of them. How could you function for a moment if you doubted that gravity works or that you need air to breathe?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Schulz says that certainty gets us into trouble because many core beliefs are tightly wrapped up in our sense of identity<\/strong>\u2014such as the belief that our tribe will protect us and therefore we owe it our allegiance in return. Anything that calls such a belief into question feels like a personal attack. We instinctively double down on being certain instead of giving in to the discomfort of doubt, so if someone suggests that our core beliefs are wrong, we stop listening and deny the other person\u2019s views. We tell them they\u2019re misinformed, or stupid, or worse. When the threat of doubting our core beliefs is existential<\/em>, we may even decide the other person is evil and out to destroy all that\u2019s good in the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When confronted with someone else\u2019s blind certainty, it\u2019s easy to see where absolute faith in your beliefs can fall short, but it\u2019s hard to recognize that same failing in ourselves. Sometimes we admire doubt in other people, such as when someone admits that they were wrong, though often we view doubt as a sign of weakness. The truth is that doubt provokes anxiety, which is why we find certainty so appealing.<\/strong> Schulz writes that people who wear their doubt on their sleeve, such as undecided voters or religious agnostics, make others uncomfortable not because they\u2019re undecided, but because they display an openness to their own potential for error that undermines the sense of certainty that everyone else relies on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The fact that human error is practically a given implies that there\u2019s something fundamentally wrong with how human beings perceive the world<\/a>. That would be true if the purpose of the brain was to perfectly analyze information from your senses, but it\u2019s not. Instead, the brain is optimized to make judgments quickly from limited data and choose the best behavior to promote our survival. As a result, our minds are built on <\/strong>heuristics<\/em><\/strong>\u2014mental shortcuts to efficient, best-guess thinking<\/strong> based on limited information, mental models<\/a>, and the collective judgment<\/a> of whatever groups we\u2019re a part of. According to Schulz, these tools make our minds amazingly efficient, but they\u2019re also the loopholes through which we make mistakes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The most basic and natural mistake that we make is to trust the evidence of our senses without question. The senses are the mind\u2019s only window on the world, but we underestimate the degree to which that window is clouded by how the brain filters<\/a> data through an unconscious interpretive process, followed by instinctive reasoning that doesn\u2019t rely on strict rules of logic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Schulz explains that our conscious minds don\u2019t receive the \u201craw data\u201d from our senses. Instead, the information we see, hear, and feel is touched up and processed by our unconscious nervous system, such as the way the brain\u2019s visual cortex fills in the gaps between the still frames of a movie. Our brains are designed to fill in the gaps in any sensory data we receive.<\/strong> Doing so gives us a more cohesive awareness of our surroundings, which therefore aids our survival in the wild\u2014but it also opens the door to error, particularly when the brain\u2019s \u201cbest guess\u201d to fill those gaps turns out to be wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Our misperceptions are amplified when we use them to make decisions, a process which also relies on \u201cbest guess\u201d logic more than we\u2019d like to admit, writes Schulz. Rather than using careful logic to make decisions and judgments, our brains default to inductive reasoning<\/em>\u2014determining what\u2019s likely to be true based on past experience.<\/strong> This mental shorthand allows for quick decisions that tend to be mostly <\/em>right most of the time, but inductive reasoning also leads us into various cognitive traps, such as making overly broad and biased generalizations while ignoring information that doesn\u2019t jibe with our beliefs. As with our sensory errors, our imprecise reasoning is a natural side effect of the processes that make our brains so efficient.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Our potentially faulty judgments based on erroneous sensory data form the shaky foundations on which we build beliefs, giving us even more chances to be wrong. Our beliefs shape everything we do, and they\u2019re so interwoven and interconnected that admitting one of them is wrong can threaten our entire framework of understanding. Schulz discusses how beliefs are formed<\/a> and how easily we invent them on the fly with little or no evidence to back them up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Beliefs are stories we tell about the world. We\u2019re conscious of some, such as beliefs about money<\/a>, but unconscious of others, such as which way is \u201cdown.\u201d We cling to some beliefs very tightly, while others change more easily, depending on how important they are. Schulz says that we automatically form beliefs about every new thing or idea we encounter,<\/strong> because otherwise we wouldn\u2019t have a way to determine how to act or predict what will happen. This belief formation is a two-pronged approach\u2014part of your mind creates a story to explain what your senses tell you, while another part of your mind checks your story against further input from your senses. Either side of this process can break down, resulting in beliefs that are wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We\u2019ve already mentioned how senses can fail, but the storytelling aspect of your brain goes wrong when you spin beliefs from sheer imagination.<\/strong> Schulz acknowledges that imagination is an evolutionary gift that lets us solve problems we\u2019ve never faced before, but it goes wrong when we invent stories without any evidential grounding. We do this because our minds crave answers, so we feed them by making up theories. Admitting that you don\u2019t know something is more uncomfortable than pretending that you do, hence the temptation to believe things too strongly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Being wrong doesn\u2019t happen only on an individual level. We don\u2019t form our beliefs on our own, and history has shown that large groups of people can all be wrong at once. Try as you might, there\u2019s no way to avoid learning beliefs<\/a> and behaviors from the people around you, and when you\u2019re firmly embedded in a group, any fallacies in the thinking of that group are only reinforced by the strength of group identity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThink for yourself\u201d is common advice, but unfortunately, you can\u2019t do it. We all rely on other people\u2019s knowledge\u2014there\u2019s too much in the world to learn on our own. The problem is telling whether or not someone else\u2019s beliefs are worth sharing. Schulz argues that we generally don\u2019t judge someone else\u2019s beliefs on the merit of their ideas. Instead, we first decide if someone else is trustworthy\u2014if they are, we accept their beliefs.<\/strong> This is a time-saving shortcut that lets us learn from teachers and parents, determine which news articles to read, and decide which opinion podcasts to listen to. However, this shortcut opens up a world of error because it multiplies our own faulty judgment by that of many others. Mistakes spread like a plague.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Schulz says that, in years past, we formed many of our beliefs based on the groups we were raised in, but, in the Information Age<\/a>, we seek out and form groups based on shared beliefs.<\/strong> Group consensus<\/a> is a powerful drug, and in a group based on common ideas, belief in those ideas is self-reinforcing, while any evidence against them is ignored by the strength of the group\u2019s willful blindness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When social status and group membership are defined by your agreement with certain beliefs, then any dissent is an attack on the group and can be punished by shunning, expulsion, or worse. Human beings are social animals, and it\u2019s easier to go along with questionable ideas than lose your group status.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBeing Wrong<\/em> Book Overview<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Why Be Wrong?<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Right and Wrong as Survival Strategies<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
Being Wrong Is Useful<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
Being Wrong Is Fun<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
What It\u2019s Like to Be Wrong<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Certainty and Doubt<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
Why You\u2019re Wrong<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Perception and Reason<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
Belief and Imagination<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
Social Pressure to Believe<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
How to Cope With Being Wrong<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n