Mistakes Were Made - Carol Tavris [111]
Consider for a moment the benefits of being able to separate dissonant thoughts as clearly as Peres did: Friendships that might otherwise be terminated in a huff are preserved; mistakes that might otherwise be dismissed as unimportant are properly criticized and their perpetrator held accountable. People could remain passionately committed to their nation, religion, political party, spouse, and family, yet understand that it is not disloyal to disagree with actions or policies they find inappropriate, misguided, or immoral.
In an online discussion for psychologists working in the field of trauma research and treatment, one young psychotherapist posted a note expressing his enthusiasm for a recent hot fad in psychotherapy. He was unprepared for the reaction from psychological scientists, who deluged him with the systematic research showing that the therapy’s gimmick was ineffective and the theory behind it was spurious. Their response put him in big-time dissonance: “I’ve spent time, money, and effort on this new method and I’m getting excited about it” bumped into “but eminent scientists I admire tell me it’s nonsense.” The usual, knee-jerk dissonance-reducing strategy would be to dismiss the scientists as ivory-tower know-nothings. Instead, the young man replied with the open-mindedness of the scientist and the self-insight of the clinician, a model that might serve us all.
“Thanks for your thoughts and comments on this topic, even though they were hard to accept at first,” he wrote. He read the research they recommended, and concluded that he had become so enamored of the new approach that he did not devote enough attention to studies that had evaluated it and found it wanting. “I used my own practice as validation,” he admitted, “and allowed my thrill to overtake my critical thinking. It is part of the scientific attitude to change one’s beliefs once they are discredited. Well, it’s not an easy thing to do. Combine invested time, invested money, high hopes, high expectations, and a relative amount of pride, and you’re up for quite a challenge when confronted with contradicting evidence. Very humbling this experience has been.” 11
Humbling, yes, but ultimately that’s the point. Understanding how the mind yearns for consonance, and rejects information that questions our beliefs, decisions, or preferences, teaches us to be open to the possibility of error. It also helps us let go of the need to be right. Confidence is a fine and useful quality; none of us would want a physician who was forever wallowing in uncertainty and couldn’t decide how to treat our illness, but we do want one who is open-minded and willing to learn. Nor would most of us wish to live without passions or convictions, which give our lives meaning and color, energy and hope. But the unbending need to be right inevitably produces self-righteousness. When confidence and convictions are unleavened by humility, by an acceptance of fallibility, people can easily cross the line from healthy self-assurance to arrogance. In this book, we have met many who crossed that line: the psychiatrists who are certain that they can tell if a recovered memory is valid; the physicians and judges who are certain that they are above conflicts of interest; the police officers who are certain that they can tell if a suspect is lying; the prosecutors who are certain that they convicted the guilty party; the husbands and wives who are certain that their interpretation of events is the right one; the nations who are certain that their version of history is the only one.
All of us have hard