Related to Your Rationality is My Business
Among religious believers in the developed world, there is something of a hierarchy in terms of social tolerability. Near the top are the liberal, nonjudgmental, frequently nondenominational believers, of whom it is highly unpopular to express disapproval. At the bottom you find people who picket funerals or bomb abortion clinics, the sort with whom even most vocally devout individuals are quick to deny association.
Slightly above these, but still very close to the bottom of the heap, are proselytizers and door to door evangelists. They may not be hateful about their beliefs, indeed many find that their local Jehovah’s Witnesses are exceptionally nice people, but they’re simply so annoying. How can they go around pressing their beliefs on others and judging people that way?
I have never known another person to criticize evangelists for not trying hard enough to change others’ beliefs.
And yet, when you think about it, these people are dealing with beliefs of tremendous scale. If the importance of saving a single human life is worth so much more than our petty discomforts with defying social convention or our own cognitive biases, how much greater must be the weight of saving an immortal soul from an eternity of hell? Shouldn’t they be doing everything in their power to change the minds of others, if that’s what it takes to save them? Surely if there is a fault in their actions, it’s that they’re doing too little given the weight their beliefs should impose on them.
But even if you believe you believe this is a matter of eternity, of unimaginable degrees of utility, if you haven’t internalized that belief, then it sure is annoying to be pestered about the state of your immortal soul.
This is by no means exclusive to religion. Proselytizing vegans, for instance, occupy a similar position on the scale of socially acceptable dietary positions. You might believe that nonhuman animals possess significant moral worth, and by raising them in oppressive conditions only to slaughter them en masse, humans are committing an enormous moral atrocity, but may heaven forgive you if you try to convince other people of this so that they can do their part in reversing the situation. Far more common are vegans who are adamantly non-condemnatory. They may abstain from using any sort of animal products on strictly moral grounds, but, they will defensively assert, they’re not going to criticize anyone else for doing otherwise. Individuals like this are an object example that the disapproval of evangelism does not simply come down to distaste for the principles being preached.
So why the taboo on trying to change others’ beliefs? Well, as a human universal, it’s hard to change our minds. Having our beliefs confronted tends to make us anxious. It might feel nice to see someone strike a blow against the hated enemy, but it’s safer and more comfortable to not have a war waged on your doorstep. And so, probably out of a shared desire not to have our own beliefs confronted, we’ve developed a set of social norms where individuals have an expectation of being entitled to their own distinct factual beliefs about the universe.
Of course, the very name of this blog derives from the conviction that that sort of thinking is not correct. But it’s worth wondering, when we consider a society which upholds a free market of ideas which compete on their relative strength, whether we’ve taken adequate precautions against the sheer annoyingness of a society where the taboo on actually trying to convince others of one’s beliefs has been lifted.
I think if you drop the view that door-to-door evangelism is about conversation and see it mostly as a retention mechanism instead, it addresses some of the issues in the article.
The statistics on the number of people converted to a religion because someone came to their door and argued with them are pitiful. If you spend two years trying to convert people that way, the median expectation is "no conversions" (one or two is substantial success, and more than that is a crazy outlier). If your goal is actually to change people's minds your approach has to be much more subtle. It requires building a relationship of trust, respect, and care for a long time before a normal person will take your words as worthwhile evidence for updating their life philosophy.
As near as I can tell, this is pretty much the correct strategy for honesty convincing someone to adopt the practices suggested by a belief, whether its a matter of Veganism or Mormonism. My understanding from reading about the sociology of evangelism is that the Mormons give pamphlets to the laity that tell them not to proselyze to friends, co-workers, neighbors etc. Their job is to be friendly, helpful, and admirable while deflecting questions about their beliefs as "helpful for me but not that important" until someone is so impressed by the quality of their lives and how nice they are at a BBQ that they ask two or three times about their beliefs. Then the family invites the interested party (usually an entire family, with bonds of friendship that run husband-to-husband, wife-to-wife, kids-to-kids) to a church social event to help them see how things work. If the family is still interested, the believing family doesn't "close the sale" itself -- they invite the interested family over to talk with a specialized member of the church who can help the interested family formally articulate their by-now-pre-existing interest in joining the church.
In the meantime, from what I can tell, the real adaptive function of going door to door is that it exposes a new adult believer to a lot of debate-style conversation about the idea they are promoting. In the absence of effective epistemic warnings to the contrary they become more committed to their idea via massive commitment and consistency, and various other cognitive biases. This makes them less likely to feel that the belief is just a matter of lip service, which would make a lapse in belief more likely in the absence of the social processes of regular church attendance.
One of my pet hypotheses for "where rationalists come from" is that many of us engage in debate-style conversations (similar to proselytizing) for fun when we are young in the absence of any coherent doctrine to defend that has been handed down to us by an institution. This practice teaches us respect for the usefulness of defending "the right content" as a helpful technique for the intrinsically valuable outcome of winning a debate. Then epistemic rationality is intelligible as a truth-biased (and hence nominally moral) method to find the content and justifications that will be useful for winning future debates... then you have enough to bootstrap into logical fallacies and cost-benefit-analysis and so on. This isn't a very admirable theory, but if it was true then it seems helpful to know if you're trying to teach or find rationalists.
Also, if this hypothesis is on the mark it probably has sociological implications: If someone gets an emotional boost from winning a debate then someone else is going to lose a debate and get negative reinforcement for the same verbal interactions. Unless this process was engineered somehow (with people losing on purpose and not taking it hard?) I suspect that rationalists produced by this method can never be more than a fraction of the population, and they will necessarily be intermixed with people for whom debate has almost entirely negative emotional associations.
From this (admittedly very weird) perspective, evangelists for false doctrines may unwittingly be performing an epistemic public service that, on net, raises the sanity waterline :-)
This explains some more of the Southpark Episode about the mormons. It is actually pretty correct and good.