Properly Trained Common Sense

Toolbelt of Knowledge: Practices
Skepticism
Listening
Deconstruction
Rationality
Mindfulness
Steel Manning
Common Sense

On this blog, we have not treated common sense too kindly. “Common sense” is what we use to mean “you just know,” without having to go through all of the tedium of proving something. In general, it is a catch-all term for mental shortcuts that get us to answers quickly without getting bogged down in confusion. Because of this, common sense can be incredibly idiotic. However, there are also times when it is wise and practical. Today, we’re going to look at how to use common sense well, so that you come to conclusions that have high probabilities of being correct and useful.

The first type of common sense is a reality check. After you have gone through a process of deduction and calculation, does the answer you get make sense? For instance, suppose you are doing a homework problem to calculate the speed of sound, and the answer you get is 30 miles per hour. Do you turn it in? You may not know what the real answer is, but you do know you don’t hear a sonic boom every time a car speeds up nearby! Common sense says you better check your calculations.

Not considering the consequences of the choices we make or put off making can be considered a breach of common sense. If you’re making rice and you fill the pot with grains, it will overflow as it absorbs the water. If you have a pain in your wisdom tooth, waiting to see if it goes away on its own is not worth the risk that it’s infected. When you vote for politicians and leaders, you might want to avoid the ones who like to beat people down. Actions and consequences. Common sense.

Our next use of common sense is to accept true statements that are extremely difficult or impossible to prove. There is a form of argument called the syllogism, which is two premises and a conclusion. An example would be, “All men are human, Frederick Douglass was a man, therefore Frederick Douglass was human.” In the abstract, the syllogism looks like this:

A: If B, then C.
B: B.
C: Therefore, C.

It is obvious that if someone accepts both A and B, they must conclude C to be true as well.

But think about the statement in bold. It is a premise in itself, a hidden premise of the argument. So let’s bring it out of its hiding place, and add it to the syllogism as a premise Z.

Z: If A and B, then C.
A: If B, then C.
B: B.
C. Therefore, C.

There we go. Now we know the whole truth: if someone accepts A, B, and the hidden premise Z, they must conclude C to be true as well.

Oh no! In bringing out the hidden premise to prove the syllogism, we have discovered yet another premise! X: If Z, A, and B, then C. It becomes clear that there is a pattern: for every hidden premise we find, there is yet another premise hidden behind it. Rather than two premises and a conclusion, the syllogism in its true form has an infinite number of premises!

This is an interesting puzzle for the philosophy of logic. But for our everyday problem solving, the two-premise syllogism is good enough, and it is fine to act as if it is absolutely proven to be true. This is our next use of common sense: to take the improvable foundations of logic as if they are proven to be true.

Even when an argument is logically sound, common sense can sometimes veto one or more of its premises. For instance, we can go to the classic example of a faulty syllogism, “All men have beards. Socrates was a man. Therefore, Socrates had a beard.” Our common sense says wait a minute, only some men have beards, not all of them! Despite the argument being formally valid, the first premise is false, meaning the conclusion is invalid, and we can’t know if Socrates had a beard without more information.

However, we must remember, just because something is common sense doesn’t necessarily mean it’s true. At first glance, quantum physics seems to go against common sense, with photons and electrons behaving sometimes as particles and sometimes as waves, and seeming to teleport from place to place. But there is an enormous amount of theoretical and experimental evidence pointing to quantum physics being true, and we have a large amount of technology, such as the laser, that would not function otherwise. Therefore, despite quantum physics going against common sense, we have every reason to believe it is true.

This illustrates the problem with common sense: sometimes it is wrong. If we hear an idea that goes against our common sense, it is important to hear the arguments supporting it, and to give those arguments a good mull over, with the attitude that we might allow ourselves to be convinced to let go of our common sense belief.

Perhaps the worst danger of invoking common sense is to avoid looking at a question in its full complexity, and make out anyone who disagrees with us as fools. We all know of people who have defended their religious or political beliefs by saying, “it’s common sense,” brushing us off, and sending the message that because we don’t agree with their “common sense” view, our thoughts on the matter aren’t worth hearing. That’s not common sense, it’s stubbornness, and we must keep ourselves accountable not to fall into that kind of behavior.

Like rationality, common sense is not something we automatically have. In order not to cause more problems than it solves, common sense must be trained, and a great way to do that is to practice all of the other skills in the Toolbelt of Knowledge.

Why I Write about Things I Don't Believe

Toolbelt of Knowledge: Practices
Skepticism
Listening
Deconstruction
Rationality
Mindfulness
Steel Manning
Common Sense

On this blog, I write about all kinds of philosophical ideas. One of the major goals is to help me think about all of these interesting topics, and to figure out what I believe. But I also write about things I don’t believe, like Dualism, Idealism, and the creation solutions to the fine-tuning problem. Why do I do this? There are a few reasons. Firstly, taking the time to think through ideas I don’t believe helps me understand the ideas I do believe. Secondly, when I write fantasy, I want my alternative philosophy to be coherent. And thirdly, thinking about all kinds of philosophical ideas is fun, whether I think they correspond to the real world or not.

We will begin by discussing something called the Steel Man technique. A good competitor always wants their opponent to be at their best, because only then can the competition truly reveal who is stronger, faster, more cunning, or whatever. Although I don’t like to think of intellectual discussions as competitions, the same principle applies: the only way to know whose ideas are truer is if the very best arguments are made for all sides.

image attribution

There is a fallacy often committed during debates or arguments, when one person sets up a weak caricature of the other’s position and knocks down that caricature, acting as if this means they have knocked down their opponent’s argument. This is called the Straw Man fallacy. Most open-minded individuals will usually be able to spot one, and the person who makes the fallacy will lose credibility.

But if someone does the opposite, and builds up their opponent’s position to be at its very best, such that their opponent would agree wholeheartedly at how it is put, they have made a Steel Man. Knocking down a straw man is a cheap and dirty trick. Knocking down a steel man is a well-earned and noble victory.

In a less competitive setting, such as when two people are having a friendly conversation, a steel man can keep things positive by letting the other person know you understand where they’re coming from. It is also helpful to you, whether you are with someone or thinking on your own, because understanding what you don’t believe helps you better understand what you do believe.

When world-building fantasy stories, I strive for philosophical coherence. We all know of science fiction and fantasy stories where the authors throw in whatever they feel like without worrying about how much sense it makes. Sci-fi realism, on the other hand, is when a writer takes scientific ideas and language seriously, and uses them appropriately to craft a story that might plausibly take place in the future. Similarly, medieval realism is an idea applied to fantasy such that the geography, economics, politics, armor and horses and all of that stuff, make sense. Philosophical coherence is like sci-fi and medieval realism, but with philosophy. For instance, in The Mentor, the Hero, and the Trickster, there is a magical world the main characters can go to called the Unconscious Realms, which are built according to my conception of what a world based on Berkelian Idealsim world would be like.

When I write about things like idealism and dualism, I am building up my skill in philosophical coherence. In my fantasy books, philosophical coherence will help me give them the depth and richness I strive for.

In order to further grow my skills of philosophical coherence and steel manning, I am going to start a new series called “Best Arguments Against,” where I present the arguments against my beliefs that I find the most compelling. We’ll talk about God and quantum physics and all kinds of awesome stuff. So make sure to check back regularly, because it’s going to be a fun time.

NaNo Results 2019

November is over, and I happily stand on top of 50,000 words of extreme future science fiction! The immortal Maki Tanaka First Spring has been wandering along on his million-year journey across the Milky Way. The story is not finished yet, with perhaps another 10,000 words left to go in the first draft, which I plan to finish this month.

After the first draft is finished, my wonderful friends in my new writing group and I will swap stories and critique each other. We will trade advice on what is going well, what needs work, and what to focus on. If any of you are reading this, thanks for being absolutely amazing!

The next step in my book will be to develop the characters, so they are more than props for the main character’s journey. In November’s last days, I didn’t even give the supporting characters names, going instead for placeholders like Leaderman, Otherguy, and Cap2. So they will be the first priority in preparation for draft 2.

After that, I will revisit the structure of the story, taking into account the advice from the alpha readings. Some scenes need to be scrapped, others fleshed out. When I write a first draft, I have to include the transitions between scenes, such as car rides and time spent in waiting rooms, so that I know how the characters are feeling when the interesting parts happen. These transition scenes have very little importance, and can be reduced to a few short sentences, or cut completely.

As happens in NaNoWriMo, I was rushed every day to get my word quota on the page. Because of this, the story jumps from scene to scene, and characters were made up on the fly. Some of the sections feel more like heavy outlines than immersive stories, and not one of the characters other than Maki himself is interesting. Draft 2 will probably be at least 100,000 words, putting it in the normal range of adult science fiction. After that, it may require further structural drafts, and then a prose draft, where I edit each paragraph and sentence to be the best it can be in terms of wordcraft. And after that, it will be time for query letters and publisher submission!

When will it be published? Probably not for a long time. I would be surprised if it takes less than a year. But I can guarantee that sometime in the hopefully not too distant future, you will see the name Christian Horst on the spine of a book in the sci-fi section of a bookstore.