The internet was supposed to provide a framework for the expansion of human intellect and understanding; instead it has become a petri dish for closed minds and confirmation bias. I have been reticent to cover this as a blog topic before now for fear it was just an extension of the technophobia that has greeted every new invention since the dawn of man. But with Facebook now acting as a hub for social and political discussions – and seeing some of the links ostensibly intelligent persons post on it – I can draw no other conclusion.
As long as the internet has been around we have had warnings about the dubious information it provides. Yet as it enters its second decade as a mainstream medium, it seems those warnings are being disregarded and many believe they are well informed when they are only getting half the story. This is particularly true of politics. Before the advent of the internet, you couldn’t help but be exposed to conflicting arguments. Mainstream newspapers like the Daily Telegraph and Sydney Morning Herald published a variety of opinion columns. Political programs on TV usually aired views from various panellists, and even if the diversity was tokenistic (as it often is on the ABC’s Q&A now), at least it was there.
With the exponential expansion of the internet, however, it is now possible to expose yourself only to opinions and articles that reaffirm your world view. There are thousands and thousands of websites, both conservative and liberal, dedicated to promulgating uniformity of thought on everything from abortion to climate change. Often the ‘information’ provided on these websites is either sketchy or flat-out fabricated, but most of the general population is ill equipped to tell the difference between a legitimate news report or analysis and this sort of propaganda. And even some who should know better – my fellow journalists – are fooled, because they want to be fooled. An intellectual echo chamber feels safe and comfortable, but in the end it only makes the occupant ignorant and less intelligent.
By now you might be grinding your teeth and muttering, “Who the hell does this arrogant dick think he is?” To which I would like to respond with a challenge. Can you name three strongly held opinions that you have changed after listening to a counter-argument?
If you can provide two, I reckon you would be doing better than 90 per cent of the population. The truth is most of us form our political and social stripes as teenagers and then, without realising it, steadfastly refuse to change them throughout the course of our lives – hence that psychological term ‘confirmation bias’.
Is this a case of do as I say, not as I do? If it were, I would not be writing this blog post. I can think of two instances where my opinion on a hot-button political issue has changed as the result of a cogent or better-informed argument.
The first one was on the issue of Australia becoming a republic. This was back in the mid-1990s, when Malcolm Turnbull was leading the charge to get rid of our ties to the monarchy. I was about 19 at the time and I was pro-republic, an opinion formed mainly, I suspect, after seeing the Australian country singer John Williamson in concert a few years earlier. Then one day a friend and I were playing a game of billiards at a local club and our conversation turned to the issue. I expressed surprise that he wanted to keep Australia effectively under British rule.
“That’s our heritage,” he said, with disdain that I might have found rude if it hadn’t left me reeling. I had never thought of it that way, and he was right. Maintaining our heritage, especially when Prime Minister Paul Keating had tried to tell us we should be ashamed of it, was essential. It’s a revised view I have retained to this day.
The other opinion I changed much more recently, and it was not such a black-to-white switch, but it was a change nonetheless. Observing (and experiencing) first-hand the less than salubrious effect Middle Eastern immigrants had on the area where I grew up, I was highly dubious about the so-called asylum seekers flooding unchecked into the country. But then my wife, who is a school counsellor, began to share some of the horror stories of the refugee families, whose children attended her school. I couldn’t help but question my stance.
While I still believe the open-border policy that so many on the left seem to advocate is complete lunacy (there might not be many country shoppers and religious extremists among the ‘asylum seekers’, but the fact is there are some – so how many is okay?), I do think more money and manpower should be thrown at processing centres so legitimate refugees are not left in detention any longer than they need to be.
None of this is to say a person should not hold a strong opinion. I will argue all day that alleged danger of human-induced climate change is the greatest furphy ever foisted on humanity and will ultimately do irreparable damage to society’s trust in science. Should someone provide compelling evidence that it is happening, however (not dodgy computer modelling and hysterical predictions), I will change my opinion.
Certain individuals and groups sometimes call for restrictions on free speech because they believe they have the moral high ground – and that those who don’t share their views are either deluded or corrupt, and should therefore be silenced. If history tells us one thing, it’s that the silencing of dissent is always bad. It’s the way of mental cowards and totalitarians.
Intellectual rigour is not just about proving you are right. It’s about allowing that, from time to time, someone else might be.