Part two of our two-part book review of David McRaney’s How Minds Change: The Surprising Science of Belief, Opinion, and Persuasion.
May 31, 2023
By Rachel Smith
First: We strongly suggest reading part one first but hold out very little hope that you will do so if you’ve already made up your mind not to.
Much like Sandra, for the past several weeks I have been encouraging people to read How Minds Change. I told my husband, more than once, that the book was “blowing my mind,” which is not a phrase I have ever used before in a non-sarcastic manner. It makes hard science not only accessible but enjoyable, and when it reveals the way you’ve been responding to those who disagree with you is the exact opposite of how you should be, it goes on to offer a step-by-step guide on methods proven to be more effective.
In Sandra’s review, she says, “I can’t remember the last time I finished a book feeling so hopeful for the world.” (Record scratch.) Me? Not so much. In fact, my reaction was the exact opposite.
McRaney shares the story of researchers Blaise Pascal and Michael Karlovich, who conducted a study in which they tried to replicate the experience people had with The Dress by taking a picture of pink Crocs and white socks under green grow lights. Some people looked at the photo and saw the Crocs as pink, as they were in real life. Others saw the Crocs as gray, as depicted in the photo. The photo had no pink pixels, so those who saw them as gray weren’t wrong.
Who saw the truth? The idea of truth itself becomes subjective here. McRaney writes:
“Neither side was right nor wrong, so arguing for only one side or the other wouldn’t arrive at a deeper understanding: the objective reality and subjective realities can differ. Only the two truths combined, the combination of shared perspectives, would alert people there was a deeper truth, and only through conversation would they have any hope of solving the mystery.”
I underlined this paragraph in the text and wrote a note to myself after it. “We’re doomed.”
You can call me a pessimist, but McRaney goes on to write in his book about the strength of humans’ innate us-versus-them psychology. Nobody wants to be completely alone, but in the not very distant past, you could not survive alone. This is what drives the human need to form groups, and it takes very little for us to identify our “in” group.
Psychologist Henri Tajfel wanted to find out at what point people would start to favor their own side and show bias toward “the other.” His plan was to simply tell people they were part of one group and not another, and then see how many differences had to be added for people to start showing favoritism for their own group. He wanted to find what he called the “minimal group paradigm.”
How many differences had to be added before bias crept in? None. Simply telling people they are part of one group and not another, even when the reason is due to a randomly assigned number, is enough for people to form a bias against “the other.” If we as humans become biased toward a group because we were just randomly placed in a different one, you can imagine how strong the us-versus-them psychology becomes when someone is part of a group based on shared beliefs, whether those be religious, political, or simply based on common interest. Those beliefs and the group affiliation becomes part of our identity, and that means anybody trying to change that belief is seen as a threat.
Cognitive neuroscientist Jonas Kaplan describes it this way:
Remember that the brain’s first and primary job is to protect ourselves. That extends beyond the physical self, to our psychological self. Once these things [beliefs, attitudes, and values] become part of our psychological self, they are then afforded all the same protections as the brain gives the body.
Brain scans support this, showing that when people are challenged on political wedge issues, their brains go into fight-or-flight mode, just as they would were they under physical attack.
So, all we have to do to be able to discuss political wedge issues calmly and unthreateningly is to go against our most basic psychological impulses developed over millions of years of evolution. Great! McRaney writes that in order to do this, we must have what Pascal and others at NYU call “cognitive empathy.” The only way to have cognitive empathy is to understand that “contentious issues are contentious because we are disambiguating them differently, unconsciously, and not by choice.”
Think about The Dress or the socks-and-Crocs experiment. Our brains automatically use our prior experiences to interpret the world. I see The Dress as gold and white (probably because I have spent lots of working hours in natural light), but I understand that people are seeing it as white-and-gold or blue-and-black not by choice, but because of brain processes that they’re completely unaware of as they happen.
Now think about a political wedge issue. Hold on to your britches because, whichever side you are on, cognitive empathy will be much harder to achieve in this case. We can all agree that mass shootings are a problem. What we disagree on is why and what should be done to address them. Person A might think there should be tighter gun control. Person B might think violent video games should be limited. (Can you feel how much I’m tip-toeing around this? These people don’t even have names. They “might” think—who can say for sure?)
Cognitive empathy can only be achieved when we realize that Person A and Person B having different conclusions is the same as two people seeing different colors of stripes on The Dress. Two people can look at the same information and disambiguate it differently based on their prior experiences. It’s not a choice.
You may be thinking, sure, but these are complicated issues with lots of variables. What about when you’re just looking at facts? There are people who believe the Earth is round. There are people who believe the Earth is flat. There is only one correct answer, so how can you have cognitive empathy for someone who is disambiguating facts in a different way? The problem is, as McRaney paraphrases Pulitzer Prize-winning writer Kathryn Schulz, “…until we know we are wrong, being wrong feels exactly like being right.”
We now know that doubling down on our beliefs is simply our brain’s way of trying to protect us and, because we know that, we can view others’ beliefs through the lens of cognitive empathy. But then what? If we can’t convince people with facts and our own reasoning, what can we do?
Steve Deline, co-founder of The New Conversation Initiative, explains his approach this way:
There is no superior argument, no piece of information that we can offer, that is going to change their mind. The only way they are going to change their mind is by changing their own mind—by talking them through their own thinking, by processing things they’ve never thought about before, things from their own life that are going to help them see things differently.
Deline is explaining his approach to “deep canvassing,” which is specifically meant as a way to talk to voters about sensitive wedge issues. It’s very similar to another method, developed by Anthony Magnabosco, called “Street Epistemology.” Since Street Epistemology is meant for more general conversations, we’re sharing Magnabosco’s steps as quoted in McRaney’s book. (You’ll notice a number of parallels between street epistemology steps and those for quality sales discovery.)
When someone shares with us a belief we disagree with, our go-to is to present them with contradicting data and arguments for why they’re wrong. We ditch conversation and go straight to debate. And what’s wrong with healthy debate? As McRaney says, “Only the ‘loser’ of a debate learns anything new, and no one wants to be a loser.” Is there such a thing as “healthy” debate if only losers are learning?
Cognitive empathy gives us an alternative to debate. It gives us a mindset with which we can approach someone who has different views than our own—whether that’s a different religion, a different political view, or even a decision-maker who is skeptical of the value of our products or services. In those scenarios, no amount of convincing will change someone’s mind. It requires building rapport and trust, asking questions, and making the other person feel heard.
Genuine curiosity and cognitive empathy can be powerful tools when interacting with others whether they be prospects, friends, or strangers. McRaney’s book made me want to change my own way of approaching others with different beliefs. Maybe if everybody read How Minds Change we would develop enough cognitive empathy as a species to have civil conversations with those with whom we disagree. I’m sure we could get everyone to read the same book. When have books ever been controversial?
Ready to change your mind about how you do business? Contact us at mastery@maestrogroup.co.
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