Make a Bubble, Break a Bubble

Cass Sunstein’s “Breaking Up the Echo” (New York Times) points to the impenetrability of the bubbles in which Liberals and Conservative exist. Nothing changes our minds. Within our bubbles we talk with like-minded people and read and watch media supportive of our positions. So the question arises: Would balanced reporting, in which all sides of the issues were presented, change anything? Apparently not. Sunstein refers to research indicating that people assimilate “balanced” information selectively, focusing on items that support their initial views while discrediting those that oppose them.

Sunstein’s piece brought back memories of an accidental piece of research I conducted long ago, one that may shed some light both on the formation of bubbles and the possibility of bursting them.

In the 1960s I was a young teaching assistant at Boston University. My primary assignment was to conduct weekly hour-long discussion sessions with sections from the large freshmen lecture classes. Each week I would hold ten such sessions over a two-day period. My assignment for one particular week was to do “something” about statistics. So here’s what I did.

I selected what was then a hot topic in Boston, Massachusetts– segregation or integration of city neighborhoods. I created a brief instrument measuring attitudes for or against integration. In each of my ten sections I divided the class randomly, one half was to argue in favor of integration, the other opposed. Students had little difficulty getting into their positions, and heated discussions soon followed. After approximately 20 minutes I stopped the debate and administered the attitude survey.

In all ten sections, the results were identical. Those who argued for integration had more favorable attitudes toward integration, and those who argued against had more negative attitudes. And in each class the differences were statistically significant. (Remember, statistics was the apparent purpose of the activity.) What was most stunning to me was the students’ insistence that the debate had not changed their attitudes, that the survey simply reflected attitudes they had brought with them to class. As implausible as this explanation was, it too was statistically significant. Twenty minutes to create a perfect bubble – one in which you believe there is no bubble. You are simply seeing things as they are.

Depressing? But is there a potential upside to this? If this is the process by which bubbles are created, can the same process be employed to burst them or at least open up the unquestionable for questioning. If “something about statistics” hadn’t been my assignment, and if my wits were about me, I might have had the pros and cons switch sides and debate again. Then I might have thought to bring them together for an open conversation. “What are you seeing out of this experience?” Would there have been some loosening, some seeing the complexity, the pros and the cons? Maybe.

That was that, this is now. It may be that this generation of adults is beyond repair. We will continue to slug it out from inside our bubbles – pure right versus pure wrong whichever side we are on. But can we do something for the next generation? I would propose complexity thinking as a component of early education. Exercises in which students would debate complex issues first from one side, then the other, then explore what they are seeing from such exercises. My guess is children would dive into this process and find it fascinating, and we might succeed in creating a generation capable of dealing with the complexity of complex issues. I suspect that parents are likely to be the problem. Do bubble-parents want bubble-free children?

 

 

Sometimes Middles Are Sewer Pipes...Sometimes Not

Middles sometimes are sewer pipes. They receive well intentioned - but ill informed - instructions from above, and then mindlessly pass them on, with embarrassing and sometimes disastrous consequences for all. The suction of the sewer pipe is especially strong if the message from above comes from a particularly powerful Top, say for instance, the President of the United States.

In reading John Lewis Gaddis’ George F. Kennan: An American Life I came across a potential sewer pipe situation Kennan was facing.

The year is 1943. World War II is raging. Kennan is a Foreign Service officer stationed in Portugal a, country struggling to maintain a delicate neutrality. Kennan receives an instruction “by direction of the President.” Top of the tops! The culture in the Foreign Service does not encourage questioning instructions, especially those coming “by direction of the President.” But Kennan does the unthinkable; he refuses to carry out the order. Using his closeness to the situation and his independent judgment, he knows that the message, if sent, is likely to infuriate the Portuguese Prime Minister, jeopardize his already fragile position, and threaten US access to much needed air bases on the Portuguese Azores. Kennan asks for permission to meet with the President to explain his action. The message somehow makes its way to the President who asks to speak with Kennan. The outcome: the President gives Kennan freedom regarding how to conduct these sensitive negotiations with Prime Minister Salazar. From being a potentially mindless Middle, Kennan becomes a Top with critical responsibilities.

Gaddis points out how “During the Azores base negotiations, Kennan violated at least four rules any one of which could have got him sacked from the Foreign Service.” Yet the outcomes were positive and, in the end, he received personal congratulations from the US Secretary of State for his sensitive and competent handling of the situation. Not surprisingly, Kennan’s peers had a less sanguine reaction - “disapproval bordering on sheer horror.” He was judged by some as being “very foolish and lucky to get away with it.”

There are lessons from this event. Middles regularly face potential sewer pipe situations. The instructions come and you pass them on. That’s what Middles do. Unfortunately, that’s what Middles may do blindly and reflexively without examining the instructions and considering the consequences they are likely to have. This is what it means to be a Mindless Middle. The challenge for Middles is at all times to maintain their independence of thought and action, and then to have the courage to act on that judgment.

That’s what George F. Kennan did, and that’s a possibility for all of us when we’re in the middle.

I’ll leave the reactions of Kennan’s peers for another day.

For more on Middles – mindless and mindful – see Between a Rock and A Hard Place and Other Joys of Working in the Middle.