Tolerance

Tolerance. Unfortunately it's a controversial word now, but how far should it go?

I fully support listening – really listening – to others' ideas, opinions, cultures, thoughts, and interpretations. But should that ever have a limit? Some would say no – we should respect everyone's ideas equally, regardless of whether or not we agree.

But is that wise? It is sensible? It's it even doable?

In practice, none of us actually do that. We always approach with our own preconceived ideas and "filters". We are all vulnerable to confirmation bias (sticking with the first opinion we have on something, minimising new information that contradicts that idea and giving extra weight to anything that seems to back up what we've already decided).

Everyone pre-judges others and others' thoughts.

A lot of the time, we do this as a kind of self-defence: no one wants to be wrong, so we protect ourselves from it (making us more wrong, unfortunately). Past trauma will cause us to avoid conflict, or to justify ourselves, or to vilify certain groups or behaviours.

So really, whether or not we think it's a good idea, no one is truly tolerant – not really. We're "tolerant" of people who share our version of tolerance. But rarely indeed are we tolerant of those we disagree with – or worse, who we despise (even worse when we've convinced ourselves that they deserve it).

At this point, you're probably thinking of someone else you know who's like that. I'm not talking about someone else. I'm talking about you – the person reading this. I'm talking about me. I'm talking about every one of us.

We should always strive to listen, to learn, and to put up with different ideas. None of us are good enough at that yet.

At some point though, there are actually ideas that we shouldn't put up with. If something is both false and harmful, it doesn't deserve tolerance (though it's usually still better to approach people who have such thinking with empathy and understanding, as simply trying them that they're wrong will only drive then further into self-defensive and increasingly extreme positions).

If there is an idea that's destructive by its very nature, it doesn't deserve air time, it doesn't deserve being promoted, and it doesn't deserve being treated the same as a better idea.

The entire point of tolerating others' thoughts is so that we can all find the best ideas, find our own blindspots, and learn to live with understanding among those who are different to us – but there are some ideas that work against those ideals.

It is the height of hubris indeed for us to think we know more than others on a subject when it's a thing we haven't studied in depth, and they have. One of my favourite quotes is, "No one has a monopoly on truth" (or it's corollary, "I don't have a monopoly on good ideas"). This is why I'm always asking questions – I want to learn from those who know more than me.

Which leads to a dangerous thing I see happening a lot at the moment: the idea that one of us knows more than thousands of experts on a subject. That's the highest peak of hubris: when someone thinks they, in a few minutes of though,t can know more than those who have dedicated decades of deep study to a discipline. Those who would have forgotten more about the subject than we'll ever learn, who have spent their lives around others who also know more than we do.

It's always a neat little kick of dopamine to solve a puzzle or work out a problem, but that kick can be deceiving – you can still get the little happy hit from finding the wrong answer. This is how conspiracy theories grow: they don't tell you the answers, they feed you tidbits of carefully-chosen information (some true, some not – most only half-truths), and let your brain layer the connections – usually ones they've prepared beforehand. This is how otherwise sensible and intelligent people get suckered into cults or recruited into extremist groups.

And this is why the words, "I've done my own research" are so very, very dangerous. You haven't: you've followed your own biases, slowly reinforcing the things you already wanted to believe, your brain carefully curating out the facts that don't line up (we as humans are very good at creating our own personal realities).

The great reaction I heard you someone who was told to "do their own research" went something like, "I would, but double-blind clinical trials are just so time-consuming and expensive!" (The second best was roughly, "Well, I've done a Masters and PhD in the subject and have been working in that field of research for a decade now, so I'm not sure how much more research you want me to do.")

People become experts through years of hard study and hard work, so we should be careful when we're willing to dismiss what they have to say on a subject. Yes, sometimes it's hard to tell if someone actually is an expert or not, as it's a pretty abused term today, but there are a couple of things we can watch out for: is this person actually qualified in the area they're speaking? For example, is a osteopath talking about vaccines? Second, see if you can find out the consensus among others in the field: is this supposed expert a lone wolf? Who do they work for? What do others in the field say? An easy one is to Google for, "<name> credibility" – it's not a perfect solution, but it's better than trusting someone who might be lying to you. See what others in the field say about them. See if there is consensus – after all, hearing from as many voices as possible is how we get the best ideas, so if the vast majority of specialists in a field are saying the same thing, we should sit up and take notice of that (even if we don't agree – in fact, especially if we don't agree!)

You might be saying, "But that all sounds like a lot of work!"

It is. It's called Research.

My thought is this: if something is important enough that it affects me or affects a lot of people, I am going to put in the effort to try and find out if what I'm hearing is valid. I'm going to be especially careful and dubious if I hear something that sounds like what I want to hear – after all, if it sounds too good to be true, it probably isn't true. (The opposite is also true: if it sounds too bad to be true, it probably isn't – so no, the world isn't run by a secret cabal who are out to get you).

So, if I hear someone say that they've "done their own research", I'm going to ask for proof. If it's a medical topic and they can't produce the results from their clinical trial or link me to their meta-study, I'm probably not going to believe that they have. If they're talking about climate change, and cannot show me where their work has been accepted into a major Journal, I'm going to doubt them (published meaning it passed muster with their peers – or, to put it another way, was an idea good enough that other experts could see it has merit). A "great idea" (or a "major concern") that isn't considered such by those who understand a field of study, probably isn't great nor major. ("Major concerns" are the worse kind of misinformation, because bad news travels easier than good, and it's always hard to prove a negative – and it takes more work to disprove misinformation than to create it).

So, should we tolerate every idea? Listen, yes. Treat equally? No. There is such thing as being wrong, so we should be prepared for ourselves to be the one who is wrong – especially if it's a case where nearly all the experts disagree with us.

It's a bit like the joke where a lady phones her husband who is driving home: "Honey, be careful, there's a madman driving the wrong way on the highway!" To which he replies, "One madman?! Everyone is driving the wrong way!"

Some bad ideas can hurt us (or others). Those are the ideas that need to be challenged – so someone telling you that you're wrong might be the most loving thing anyone says to you today (though it's not going to feel like it!)

Don't be afraid of someone calling your idea wrong. It might be a day where you get to become a little wiser (even if it comes at the cost of having to become a bit more humble, too – though the world can always use more humility as well).

Why do you do what you do?

Why do you do what you do?

For most of my life, I've been driven by wanting to make a difference, by wanting to find a cause, by wanting to achieve something worthwhile.  This has taken me some amazing places and I've had a chance to do a lot of interesting things – I spent nearly a year volunteering in Africa, I worked in a TV station, I've studied civil engineering and disaster management, and now I work in a job that is about saving lives.  In my current job, I can point to a situation where someone has said that what I did (install some special smoke alarms for them) is what saved their life, so in some ways it's hard to get a better, "I've done something worthwhile with my time."

But, I find I still struggle with meaning and purpose, still wonder if I'm doing enough, still wonder if anything I does really matters – or if it does matter, whether it matters enough, or if I could be doing something better.  I still spend a lot of my time – sometimes it feels like most of my time – doing things that don't feel like they are worthwhile.  I play computer games, I waste time (a lot of time), I spend far too much time on Facebook or watching YouTube.  Sure, some of that has been beneficial, and I've learned things from all of those, but that nagging, "Have I done enough?" still sits there, staring me down, a silent accusation that my talk does not match my walk.

In some ways, that can be a good thing.  That challenge to do better, to keep improving, to keep wanting to make a difference can be really positive, and it does sometimes drive me from time-wasting to doing something useful.  But, at other times it can feel condemning: "You could be doing better, you could be doing more."

This has been especially challenging for me over the last few years, and even more the last couple, as my health has not been great – I was diagnosed with Crohn's disease about 5 years ago, but recently have had a growing problem with fatigue (possibly chronic fatigue syndrome, though we're still working on a diagnosis – if anyone has been through similar health issues, you'll know it can be a long road).  So, sometimes I actually cannot do more.  Sometimes the most productive thing I can do is sleep, so I have enough energy to face the next day.  This is no end of frustration, even without that constant feeling that I need to do something worthwhile with my life.

Most of you will know that I have a pretty heavy interest in science, but that only makes these challenges worse, because I know enough to know that there are huge problems in the world that need all of us to contribute (climate change, ecosystem destruction, pollution, etc), and that most days I'm contributing more to the problems than to the solutions – because it's hard not to.  Knowing the scope of what we face as a world and how little of what needs to be done that is actually being done can be dismal knowledge to possess.

But something I've realised?  "Doing something worthwhile with your life" is not about the big things (though they definitely matter).  It's about the smaller things: about those day-to-day, person-to-person moments, those little decisions and little actions that usually feel insignificant at the time, but might matter a huge amount later.  To use that work example from above: I have installed a lot of smoke alarms for people, but only one of them actually seems to have helped save someone.  Most likely, there has been something else in my job that has prevented a fire and none of us will ever know about it – it is basically impossible to measure the thing that didn't happen because of something you prevented.  And even outside work, I expect that the things I've done which have mattered most are probably not the ones I would have thought of.  Those little actions, little things you do to help someone else aren't insignificant – they are the only things that are significant (and I say this as someone who has spent nearly my whole adult life chasing the ideal of trying to make the world better).

I heard a quote a while back on how people talk about what they would do differently if they could go back in time and change things – how small changes amplify over time – but that no one ever thinks like that in their "today".  There's no difference between some tiny, seemingly-coincidental action in the past that dramatically shaped your life now, or every action you take today, except for your perspective on the situation.  Too often we assign arbitrary significance to certain events and choices, when really every choice is like that in some way.

So, there are three things that I think about from all this: one, what you are doing matters, don't ever forget that and don't lose heart doing it; two, don't ever feel condemned that you're not doing enough; and three, if someone does something that you find valuable, then tell them – quite likely, they have done good for many others and never knew about it.  We all like to know when something we said or did counted to someone else.  Act like every little decision matters – but never beat yourself up for resting, taking the time to enjoy life, or having some fun.  Without those moments, life becomes drudgery.

Does this mean I am discouraging you from trying to go after the big stuff or to avoid attempting the giant goals?  Absolutely not.  Our world needs people who dream big, act big, and go after those impossible problems.  Even failing at trying to shift one of the big issues in the world probably still moves it just a short way forward – and, if nothing else, it's better than continuing to be part of the problems.  But, don't lose heart if you feel like what you're doing doesn't matter enough, or if you feel like you can't reach what you wanted to reach; it's still worth trying – and really, there is no such thing as a "little good" – any good you do is big, even if no one sees it (especially yourself).

Courage, dear friends.  The road is long, but we do not travel it alone.