by Robin Hanson
ADVANCE PRAISE FOR THE ELEPHANT IN THE BRAIN
“In this ingenious and persuasive book, Simler and Hanson mischievously reveal that much of our behavior is for social consumption: we make decisions that make us look good, rather than good decisions.”
—Hugo Mercier, Research Scientist, French Institute for Cognitive Sciences
“A thoughtful examination of the human condition.”
—David Biello, Science Curator at TED; author of The Unnatural World
“Simler and Hanson have done it again—a big new idea, well told.”
—Gregory Benford, Professor of Physics, University of California, Irvine; two-time Nebula Award Winner; author of The Berlin Project
“Deeply important, wide-ranging, beautifully written, and fundamentally right.”
—Bryan Caplan, Professor of Economics, George Mason University; author of The Case Against Education
“This is the most unconventional and uncomfortable self-help book you will ever read. But probably also the most important.”
—Andrew McAfee, Principal Research Scientist at MIT; coauthor of Machine | Platform | Crowd
“Thorough, insightful, fun to read, with the slight negative that everything is now ruined forever.”
—Zach Weinersmith, author of Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
“This book will change how you see the world.”
—Allan Dafoe, Professor of Political Science, Yale University
“A captivating book about the things your brain does not want you to know.”
—Jaan Tallinn, Founder of Skype, Centre for the Study of Existential Risk, and Future of Life Institute
“It’s hard to overstate how impactful this book is.”
—Tucker Max, author of I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell
“An eye-opening look at how we deceive ourselves in order to deceive others.”
—Ramez Naam, author of Nexus
“A provocative and compellingly readable account of how and why we lie to our rivals, our friends, and ourselves.”
—Steven Landsburg, Professor of Economics, University of Rochester
“Simler and Hanson reveal what’s beneath our wise veneer—a maelstrom of bias and rationalization that we all must—for survival’s sake—help each other overcome.”
—David Brin, two-time Hugo Award Winner; author of Existence
“A thoughtful and provocative book.”
—Andrew Gelman, Professor of Statistics, Columbia University
“Simler and Hanson uncover the hidden and darker forces that shape much of what we say and do.”
—William MacAskill, Professor of Philosophy, Oxford University; author of Doing Good Better
“There are only a few people alive today worth listening to. Robin Hanson is one of them.”
—Ralph Merkle, co-inventor of public key cryptography
“Brilliantly written and entertaining on every page.”
—Alex Tabarrok, author of Modern Principles of Economics
“A disturbing and important book.”
—Arnold Kling, author of The Three Languages of Politics
The Elephant in the Brain
The Elephant in the Brain
Hidden Motives in Everyday Life
KEVIN SIMLER AND ROBIN HANSON
Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University
Press in the UK and certain other countries.
Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press
198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America.
© Kevin Simler and Robin Hanson 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by license, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reproduction rights organization. Inquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above.
You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Simler, Kevin, 1982– author. | Hanson, Robin, 1959– author.
Title: The elephant in the brain : hidden motives in everyday life / Kevin
Simler, Robin Hanson.
Description: 1 Edition. | New York : Oxford University Press, 2018.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017004296| ISBN 9780190495992 (hardback) |
ISBN 9780190496012 (epub)
Subjects: LCSH: Self-deception. | Subconsciousness. | Cognitive psychology. |
BISAC: PSYCHOLOGY / Cognitive Psychology.
Classification: LCC BF697.5.S426 S56 2017 | DDC 153.8—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017004296
For Lee Corbin,
who kindled my intellectual life
and taught me how to think.
—Kevin
To the little guys, often grumbling in a corner,
who’ve said this sort of thing for ages: you were
right more than you knew.
—Robin
CONTENTS
Preface
Introduction
PART I Why We Hide Our Motives
1Animal Behavior
2Competition
3Norms
4Cheating
5Self-Deception
6Counterfeit Reasons
PART II Hidden Motives in Everyday Life
7Body Language
8Laughter
9Conversation
10Consumption
11Art
12Charity
13Education
14Medicine
15Religion
16Politics
17Conclusion
Notes
References
Index
PREFACE
Although Robin has blogged on related topics for over a decade, the book in your hands—or on your screen—would not have happened but for Kevin’s initiative. In 2013, Kevin considered taking his second stab at a PhD, but instead approached Robin with a suggestion that they forego the academic formalities and simply talk and work together, informally, as student and advisor. This is the fruit of our collaboration: a doctoral thesis of sorts. And we suppose that makes you, dear reader, one of our thesis committee.
Unlike a conventional dissertation, however, this work makes less of a claim to originality. Our basic thesis—that we are strategically blind to key aspects of our motives—has been around in some form or another for millennia. It’s been put forward not only by poets, playwrights, and philosophers, but also by countless wise old souls, at least when you catch them in private and in the right sort of mood. And yet the thesis still seems to us neglected in scholarly writings; you can read a mountain of books and still miss it. For Robin, it’s the view he would have been most eager to hear early in his research career, to help him avoid blind alleys. So we hope future scholars can now find at least one book in their library that clearly articulates the thesis.
As we put our final touches on this book, we find that our thoughts are now mostly elsewhere. This is, in part, because other tasks and projects clamor for our attention, but also because it’s just really hard to look long and intently at our selfish motives, at what we’ve
called “the elephant in the brain.” Even we, the authors of a book on the subject, are relieved for the chance to look away, to let our minds wander to safer, more comfortable topics.
We’re quite curious to see how the world reacts to our book. Early reviews were almost unanimously positive, and we expect the typical reader to accept roughly two-thirds of our claims about human motives and institutions. Yet, we find it hard to imagine the book’s central thesis becoming widely accepted among any large population, even of scholars. As better minds than ours have long advanced similar ideas, but to little apparent effect, we suspect that human minds and cultures must contain sufficient antibodies to keep such concepts at bay.
Of course, no work like this comes together without a community of support. We’re grateful for the advice, feedback, and encouragement of a wide network of colleagues, friends, and family:
•Our book agent, Teresa Hartnett, and our editors, Lynnee Argabright and Joan Bossert.
•For feedback on early drafts: Scott Aaronson, Shanu Athiparambath, Mills Baker, Stefano Bertolo, Romina Boccia, Joel Borgen, Bryan Caplan, David Chapman, Tyler Cowen, Jean-Louis Dessalles, Jay Dixit, Kyle Erickson, Matthew Fallshaw, Charles Feng, Joshua Fox, Eivind Kjørstad, Anna Krupitsky, Brian Leddin, Jeff Lonsdale, William MacAskill, Dave McDougall, Geoffrey Miller, Luke Muehlhauser, Patrick O’Shaughnessy, Laure Parsons, Adam Safron, Carl Shulman, Mayeesha Tahsin, Toby Unwin, and Zach Weinersmith.
•Robin received no financial assistance for this book and its related research, other than the freedom that academic tenure gives. For that unusual privilege, Robin deeply thanks his colleagues at George Mason University.
•For additional support, encouragement, ideas, and inspiration, Kevin would like to thank Nick Barr, Emilio Cecconi, Ian Cheng, Adam D’Angelo, Joseph Jordania, Dikran Karagueuzian, Jenny Lee, Justin Mares, Robin Newton, Ian Padgham, Sarah Perry, Venkat Rao, Naval Ravikant, Darcey Riley, Nakul Santpurkar, Joe Shermetaro, Prasanna Srikhanta, Alex Vartan, and Francelle Wax, with a special shout-out to Charles Feng for the suggestion to think of the book as a dissertation, and to Jonathan Lonsdale for the suggestion to look for a “PhD advisor.” Kevin is also particularly grateful for the support of his parents, Steve and Valerie, and his wife Diana.
•Finally, Kevin would like to thank Lee Corbin, his mentor and friend of 25 years. This project would not have been possible without Lee’s influence.
The Elephant in the Brain
Introduction
elephant in theroom, n. An important issue that people are reluctant to acknowledge or address; a social taboo.
elephant in thebrain, n. An important but unacknowledged feature of how our minds work; an introspective taboo.
Robin caught his first glimpse of the elephant in 1998.
He had recently finished his doctoral work at Caltech, studying abstract economic theory, and was beginning a two-year postdoc focused on healthcare policy. At first he concentrated on the standard questions: Which medical treatments are effective? Why do hospitals and insurance companies operate the way they do? And how can the whole system be made more efficient?
As he immersed himself in the literature, however, he started noticing data that didn’t add up, and soon he began to question even the most basic, bedrock assumptions. Why do patients spend so much on medical care? To get healthier: That’s their one and only goal, right?
Maybe not. Consider some of the puzzling data points that Robin discovered. To start with, people in developed countries consume way too much medicine—doctor visits, drugs, diagnostic tests, and so forth—well beyond what’s useful for staying healthy. Large randomized studies, for example, find that people given free healthcare consume a lot more medicine (relative to an unsubsidized control group), yet don’t end up noticeably healthier. Meanwhile, non-medical interventions—such as efforts to alleviate stress or improve diet, exercise, sleep, or air quality—have a much bigger apparent effect on health, and yet patients and policymakers are far less eager to pursue them. Patients are also easily satisfied with the appearance of good medical care, and show shockingly little interest in digging beneath the surface—for example, by getting second opinions or asking for outcome statistics from their doctors or hospitals. (One astonishing study found that only 8 percent of patients about to undergo a dangerous heart surgery were willing to pay $50 to learn the different death rates for that very surgery at nearby hospitals.) Finally, people spend exorbitantly on heroic end-of-life care even though cheap, palliative care is usually just as effective at prolonging life and even better at preserving quality of life. Altogether, these puzzles cast considerable doubt on the simple idea that medicine is strictly about health.
To explain these and other puzzles, Robin took an approach unusual among health policy experts. He suggested that people might have other motives for buying medicine—motives beyond simply getting healthy—and that these motives are largely unconscious. On introspection, we see only the health motive, but when we step back and triangulate our motives from the outside, reverse-engineering them from our behaviors, a more interesting picture begins to develop.
When a toddler stumbles and scrapes his knee, his mom bends down to give it a kiss. No actual healing takes place, and yet both parties appreciate the ritual. The toddler finds comfort in knowing his mom is there to help him, especially if something more serious were to happen. And the mother, for her part, is eager to show that she’s worthy of her son’s trust. This small, simple example shows how we might be programmed both to seek and give healthcare even when it isn’t medically useful.
Robin’s hypothesis is that a similar transaction lurks within our modern medical system, except we don’t notice it because it’s masked by all the genuine healing that takes place. In other words, expensive medical care does heal us, but it’s simultaneously an elaborate adult version of “kiss the boo-boo.” In this transaction, the patient is assured of social support, while those who provide such support are hoping to buy a little slice of loyalty from the patient. And it’s not just doctors who are on the “kissing” or supportive side of the transaction, but everyone who helps the patient along the way: the spouse who insists on the doctor’s visit, the friend who watches the kids, the boss who’s lenient about work deadlines, and even the institutions, like employers and national governments, that sponsored the patient’s health insurance in the first place. Each of these parties is hoping for a bit of loyalty in exchange for their support. But the net result is that patients end up getting more medicine than they need strictly for their health.
The conclusion is that medicine isn’t just about health—it’s also an exercise in conspicuous caring.
Now, we don’t expect our readers to believe this explanation just yet. We’ll examine it in more detail in Chapter 14. What’s important is getting a feel for the kind of explanation we’re proposing. First, we’re suggesting that key human behaviors are often driven by multiple motives—even behaviors that seem pretty single-minded, like giving and receiving medical care. This shouldn’t be too surprising; humans are complex creatures, after all. But second, and more importantly, we’re suggesting that some of these motives are unconscious; we’re less than fully aware of them. And they aren’t mere mouse-sized motives, scurrying around discreetly in the back recesses of our minds. These are elephant-sized motives large enough to leave footprints in national economic data.
Thus medicine was Robin’s first glimpse of the elephant in the brain. Kevin, meanwhile, caught his first glimpse while working at a software startup in Silicon Valley.
Initially, Kevin took the startup scene for a straightforward exercise in company-building: gather some people together; give them time to think, talk, and write code; and eventually, like Legos clicking into place, out pops useful software. Then he read Hierarchy in the Forest by anthropologist Christopher Boehm, a book that analyzes human societies with the same concepts used to analyze chimpanzee communities. After reading Boehm’s book, Kevin began to see his enviro
nment very differently. An office full of software engineers soon morphed, under the flickering fluorescent lights, into a tribe of chattering primates. All-hands meetings, shared meals, and team outings became elaborate social grooming sessions. Interviews began to look like thinly veiled initiation rituals. The company logo took on the character of a tribal totem or religious symbol.
But the biggest revelation from Boehm’s book concerned social status. Of course office workers, being primates, are constantly jockeying to keep or improve their position in the hierarchy, whether by dominance displays, squabbles over territory, or active confrontations. None of these behaviors is surprising to find in a species as social and political as ours. What’s interesting is how people obfuscate all this social competition by dressing it up in clinical business jargon. Richard doesn’t complain about Karen by saying, “She gets in my way”; he accuses her of “not caring enough about the customer.” Taboo topics like social status aren’t discussed openly, but are instead swaddled in euphemisms like “experience” or “seniority.”
The point is, people don’t typically think or talk in terms of maximizing social status—or, in the case of medicine, showing conspicuous care. And yet we all instinctively act this way. In fact, we’re able to act quite skillfully and strategically, pursuing our self-interest without explicitly acknowledging it, even to ourselves.
But this is odd. Why should we be less than fully conscious of such important motives? Biology teaches us that we’re competitive social animals, with all the instincts you’d expect from such creatures. And consciousness is useful—that’s why it evolved. So shouldn’t it stand to reason that we’d be hyper-conscious of our deepest biological incentives? And yet, most of the time, we seem almost willfully unaware of them.
It’s not that we’re literally incapable of perceiving these motives within our psyches. We all know they’re there. And yet they make us uncomfortable, so we mentally flinch away.