31 Talebian Meditations, Part 2
For an introduction and background to this post, see Part 1 here. Remember, these aphorisms are randomly selected, so it's not about what I think are the most important ones from The Bed of Procrustes. (After I finish the book, I might give an update with my personal favorites. Update 09 Feb: Part 3 is now live.) That being said, let's proceed.
11. "Your reputation is harmed the most by what you say to defend it." (p. 11)
When Bill Clinton denied having had sexual relations with Monica Lewinsky, he was probably trying to defend his reputation. Of course, it backfired when people found out he lied. Our intuition when faced with a sullying accusation is to try and take control of the situation, but the more we do so, the more people suspect that we have something to hide. Even if we come clean and apologize, the effect on our reputations may not be as we hoped for: studies show that when public figures apologize, some people in the audience are more prone to a punitive attitude (though I can't say to what extent this applies to non-public individuals). Perhaps the best move is simply to say nothing, and let people get distracted by other matters.
12. "When a young woman partners with an otherwise uninteresting rich man, she can sincerely believe that she is attracted to some very specific body part (say, his nose, neck, or knee)." (p. 146)
Our true reasons for being attracted to a person often do not correspond to our professed reasons; this is because love (or lust) is an evolved biological drive, and Mother Nature does not always make her reasons apparent. Indeed, there is a literature on how we deceive ourselves to replace our actual motives with more socially favorable ones. When you claim to be attracted to someone's sense of humor or wit (or their nose), you're not deliberately lying -- you may sincerely believe it. Yet your underlying instinct might be steering you toward someone with resources, influence, or health. This is a rather cynical hypothesis, though, and it doesn't mean that love isn't real.
13. "The best revenge on a liar is to convince him that you believe what he said." (p. 10)
The irony here is that if you pretend to believe the liar when you actually don't, you are also being dishonest. The honest move would be to just call him or her out, but I guess Taleb considers it fair to return the favor (perhaps because the stakes are usually low). So, how might this be an effective revenge? Well, one way is to make the liar think they got away with the lie, only to shatter their confidence later on when they realize you have outwitted them. This will likely embarrass them, as they have been acting for a while under the impression that you were the duped one. Another way is that, if the person starts to overestimate their deceptive skills, they may be tempted to lie more often... which will eventually backfire when it alienates those around them.
14. "If you detect a repressed smile on the salesperson's face, you paid too much for it." (p. 120)
Salespeople are usually trained to smile at potential customers, so that in itself should not be too suspicious. The key word in the aphorism is "repressed", as if the salesperson felt some degree of guilt or shame about their glee, and thus tried to conceal it. Or, lacking any shame, they might still recognize on a cognitive level that a smile at the close might give away their position, and that it would be advantageous to make the customer think that they got a good deal. Of course, traces of a smile may still be visible, because it is difficult for humans to control their emotions.
15. "Something shoddy: citizenship of convenience, holding the passport of a country for ease of travel or tax treatment without committing to its community." (p. 90)
I suppose Taleb is hinting at the idea of "skin in the game": that you shouldn't enjoy the benefits of citizenship without paying its costs (i.e. contributing to the country). Now, it happens to be the case that some places let you obtain citizenship through sufficient "investment" or "donation". However, we should make a distinction between wealthy financiers trying to game the rules, and ordinary folks who are genuinely stuck with a bad passport due to being born in the wrong country. In those cases, I think it's fair to seek a second citizenship even if the primary driver is convenience. Moreover, citizenship in these cases is harder to obtain (often requiring one to live in the country for a number of years and pass a test in the official language) and comes with various obligations -- think taxes (even if they're low), jury duty, military conscription, and mandatory voting in some countries. So, I'm not convinced that it is necessarily shoddy.
16. "My best example of the domain dependence of our minds, from my recent visit to Paris: at lunch in a French restaurant, my friends ate the salmon and thew away the skin; at dinner, at a sushi bar, the very same friends ate the skin and threw away the salmon." (p. 107)
While I haven't heard about people throwing away salmon at sushi bars (and I'm not sure if there is a difference between sushi skin and non-sushi skin), this amusing anecdote seems like a straightforward illustration of compartmentalization, or what Taleb calls domain dependence. It reminds me of E.S. Yudkowsky's essay about the scientist who believes in spirits when they step outside the laboratory. Granted, there is such a thing as a context-dependent variable, but the point is that you should be able to recognize a general rule across situations.
17. "Life is about execution rather than purpose." (p. 22)
One of the most vexing philosophical questions has to be: what is the purpose of life? The standard Yudkowsky-style response is that we humans have a thousand shards of desire, including such terminal values as consciousness, health, happiness, truth, beauty, love, freedom, peace, novelty, honor, and so on. But perhaps we should spend less time on this question, and more on the question: what am I doing in life? It might seem like a subtle difference, but the latter is more concrete and connected to your actual behavior rather than your idealized behavior. Thus, it reminds you when you aren't living up to your values. Even better: what am I doing today? This takes into account the fragility of long-term plans, and favors the tinkering of Taleb's flâneur. That being said, one of Yudkowsky's pet peeves is when people mistake the means to an end for the end itself (losing sight of the original purpose). So, it is worth keeping in mind why trial-and-error helps your higher goals.
18. "The weak shows his strength and hides his weaknesses; the magnificent exhibits his weaknesses like ornaments." (p. 130)
In a footnote on page 129, Nassim Taleb explains that by the "magnificent" he is referring to Aristotle's megalopsychos, the "great soul" who walks slowly, thinks himself worthy of great things, and is above pettiness. Now, why would such a person exhibit weakness? I think one could plausibly make a signalling argument: the magnificent is signalling that even with his (or her) handicaps, he could win a fight if need be, whereas the weak isn't that confident. (The weak could try to signal strength, but it would be cheap talk.) Another interpretation is that the magnificent is simply proud of who she is, scars and all, while the weak is ashamed of certain aspects of herself. I guess Taleb would say that the magnificent is more stoic.
19. "We unwittingly amplify commonalities with friends, dissimilarities with strangers, and contrasts with enemies." (p. 72)
True enough, we tend to talk about rivals as if they were the opposite of us: "we" are reasonable, honest, and peaceful; "they" are unreasonable, dishonest, and aggressive. But usually this is not psychologically realistic: just like us, our enemies see themselves as the heroes of the story, acting normally given the situation. That being said, it is also true that we tend to self-segregate into groups based on similarity -- e.g. with people of the same race, religion, level of education, age group, and even level of attractiveness (see here). So, I'm not sure if Taleb is right about the first part of the sentence, but perhaps the world would be a better place if we remembered that even with strangers, we are more similar than dissimilar.
20. "The fool generalizes the particular; the nerd particularizes the general; some do both; and the wise does neither." (p. 72)
Most people, I think, know that it's an error to make hasty, sweeping generalizations based on anecdotes. Students of social science have the importance of sample size drilled into them. But Taleb has a beef with supposed "nerds" who don't pay enough attention to the opposite error: that of inferring characteristics of the case at hand from its more general category. As the general is usually more abstract, this corresponds to oversimplifying the complex -- for example, treating all economic crises (or wars, new technologies etc.) the same because they are all mere instances of an idealized Platonic form -- which according to Taleb leads to a greater exposure to tail risks (Black Swans). In fact, both errors are two sides of the same coin, just as Procrustes would either stretch or amputate you to fit his bed.
We're about two thirds of the way there. So far, I've found it fun to try and "interpret" these aphorisms; but I remind the reader that I'm not speaking on behalf of Mr. Taleb. In any case, my overall thoughts on The Bed of Procrustes will follow in Part 3,due early February now available here.
***
11. "Your reputation is harmed the most by what you say to defend it." (p. 11)
When Bill Clinton denied having had sexual relations with Monica Lewinsky, he was probably trying to defend his reputation. Of course, it backfired when people found out he lied. Our intuition when faced with a sullying accusation is to try and take control of the situation, but the more we do so, the more people suspect that we have something to hide. Even if we come clean and apologize, the effect on our reputations may not be as we hoped for: studies show that when public figures apologize, some people in the audience are more prone to a punitive attitude (though I can't say to what extent this applies to non-public individuals). Perhaps the best move is simply to say nothing, and let people get distracted by other matters.
12. "When a young woman partners with an otherwise uninteresting rich man, she can sincerely believe that she is attracted to some very specific body part (say, his nose, neck, or knee)." (p. 146)
Our true reasons for being attracted to a person often do not correspond to our professed reasons; this is because love (or lust) is an evolved biological drive, and Mother Nature does not always make her reasons apparent. Indeed, there is a literature on how we deceive ourselves to replace our actual motives with more socially favorable ones. When you claim to be attracted to someone's sense of humor or wit (or their nose), you're not deliberately lying -- you may sincerely believe it. Yet your underlying instinct might be steering you toward someone with resources, influence, or health. This is a rather cynical hypothesis, though, and it doesn't mean that love isn't real.
13. "The best revenge on a liar is to convince him that you believe what he said." (p. 10)
The irony here is that if you pretend to believe the liar when you actually don't, you are also being dishonest. The honest move would be to just call him or her out, but I guess Taleb considers it fair to return the favor (perhaps because the stakes are usually low). So, how might this be an effective revenge? Well, one way is to make the liar think they got away with the lie, only to shatter their confidence later on when they realize you have outwitted them. This will likely embarrass them, as they have been acting for a while under the impression that you were the duped one. Another way is that, if the person starts to overestimate their deceptive skills, they may be tempted to lie more often... which will eventually backfire when it alienates those around them.
14. "If you detect a repressed smile on the salesperson's face, you paid too much for it." (p. 120)
Salespeople are usually trained to smile at potential customers, so that in itself should not be too suspicious. The key word in the aphorism is "repressed", as if the salesperson felt some degree of guilt or shame about their glee, and thus tried to conceal it. Or, lacking any shame, they might still recognize on a cognitive level that a smile at the close might give away their position, and that it would be advantageous to make the customer think that they got a good deal. Of course, traces of a smile may still be visible, because it is difficult for humans to control their emotions.
15. "Something shoddy: citizenship of convenience, holding the passport of a country for ease of travel or tax treatment without committing to its community." (p. 90)
I suppose Taleb is hinting at the idea of "skin in the game": that you shouldn't enjoy the benefits of citizenship without paying its costs (i.e. contributing to the country). Now, it happens to be the case that some places let you obtain citizenship through sufficient "investment" or "donation". However, we should make a distinction between wealthy financiers trying to game the rules, and ordinary folks who are genuinely stuck with a bad passport due to being born in the wrong country. In those cases, I think it's fair to seek a second citizenship even if the primary driver is convenience. Moreover, citizenship in these cases is harder to obtain (often requiring one to live in the country for a number of years and pass a test in the official language) and comes with various obligations -- think taxes (even if they're low), jury duty, military conscription, and mandatory voting in some countries. So, I'm not convinced that it is necessarily shoddy.
16. "My best example of the domain dependence of our minds, from my recent visit to Paris: at lunch in a French restaurant, my friends ate the salmon and thew away the skin; at dinner, at a sushi bar, the very same friends ate the skin and threw away the salmon." (p. 107)
While I haven't heard about people throwing away salmon at sushi bars (and I'm not sure if there is a difference between sushi skin and non-sushi skin), this amusing anecdote seems like a straightforward illustration of compartmentalization, or what Taleb calls domain dependence. It reminds me of E.S. Yudkowsky's essay about the scientist who believes in spirits when they step outside the laboratory. Granted, there is such a thing as a context-dependent variable, but the point is that you should be able to recognize a general rule across situations.
17. "Life is about execution rather than purpose." (p. 22)
One of the most vexing philosophical questions has to be: what is the purpose of life? The standard Yudkowsky-style response is that we humans have a thousand shards of desire, including such terminal values as consciousness, health, happiness, truth, beauty, love, freedom, peace, novelty, honor, and so on. But perhaps we should spend less time on this question, and more on the question: what am I doing in life? It might seem like a subtle difference, but the latter is more concrete and connected to your actual behavior rather than your idealized behavior. Thus, it reminds you when you aren't living up to your values. Even better: what am I doing today? This takes into account the fragility of long-term plans, and favors the tinkering of Taleb's flâneur. That being said, one of Yudkowsky's pet peeves is when people mistake the means to an end for the end itself (losing sight of the original purpose). So, it is worth keeping in mind why trial-and-error helps your higher goals.
18. "The weak shows his strength and hides his weaknesses; the magnificent exhibits his weaknesses like ornaments." (p. 130)
In a footnote on page 129, Nassim Taleb explains that by the "magnificent" he is referring to Aristotle's megalopsychos, the "great soul" who walks slowly, thinks himself worthy of great things, and is above pettiness. Now, why would such a person exhibit weakness? I think one could plausibly make a signalling argument: the magnificent is signalling that even with his (or her) handicaps, he could win a fight if need be, whereas the weak isn't that confident. (The weak could try to signal strength, but it would be cheap talk.) Another interpretation is that the magnificent is simply proud of who she is, scars and all, while the weak is ashamed of certain aspects of herself. I guess Taleb would say that the magnificent is more stoic.
19. "We unwittingly amplify commonalities with friends, dissimilarities with strangers, and contrasts with enemies." (p. 72)
True enough, we tend to talk about rivals as if they were the opposite of us: "we" are reasonable, honest, and peaceful; "they" are unreasonable, dishonest, and aggressive. But usually this is not psychologically realistic: just like us, our enemies see themselves as the heroes of the story, acting normally given the situation. That being said, it is also true that we tend to self-segregate into groups based on similarity -- e.g. with people of the same race, religion, level of education, age group, and even level of attractiveness (see here). So, I'm not sure if Taleb is right about the first part of the sentence, but perhaps the world would be a better place if we remembered that even with strangers, we are more similar than dissimilar.
20. "The fool generalizes the particular; the nerd particularizes the general; some do both; and the wise does neither." (p. 72)
Most people, I think, know that it's an error to make hasty, sweeping generalizations based on anecdotes. Students of social science have the importance of sample size drilled into them. But Taleb has a beef with supposed "nerds" who don't pay enough attention to the opposite error: that of inferring characteristics of the case at hand from its more general category. As the general is usually more abstract, this corresponds to oversimplifying the complex -- for example, treating all economic crises (or wars, new technologies etc.) the same because they are all mere instances of an idealized Platonic form -- which according to Taleb leads to a greater exposure to tail risks (Black Swans). In fact, both errors are two sides of the same coin, just as Procrustes would either stretch or amputate you to fit his bed.
***
We're about two thirds of the way there. So far, I've found it fun to try and "interpret" these aphorisms; but I remind the reader that I'm not speaking on behalf of Mr. Taleb. In any case, my overall thoughts on The Bed of Procrustes will follow in Part 3,
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