Follow your heart... not!

You're in a dilemma*. 

Then your friends and family give you advice. Or in the case where you asked for advice, they give you advice. 

More often than not, they offer advice of the following sort: 

"Follow your heart!"

  

"Just do what you think is right."

"Be yourself."

I don't mean to challenge the good intentions of these people. They usually mean well, as far as I can tell. What I challenge is the content of these sorts of advice, and why most of the time they don't really help us in making better decisions. 

Here's an example: 

For some reason I managed to miss a pre-booked train service to a very important event. It was a very expensive train ticket. The only options I've got are these two: (i) buy a new ticket that will require me to cancel a whole month's social activities and go on a cereal diet and, (ii) board the next train without a ticket. Suppose you know that you have virtually no risk of being penalised for choosing (ii), since you are aware of a way of evading ticket inspectors. What then does it mean exactly, to follow your heart? There are two obvious possibilities: 

(a) Follow your immediate desire and board the train without a ticket. (i.e. choice (i))

(b) Follow your conscience and buy a new ticket. (i.e. choice (ii))

If we seriously consider** the advice 'follow your heart', it seems to assume that we have a single mental disposition ('the heart') that has an opinion on what exactly to do. But is your heart your desire, or is it your conscience? If we shift the scenario to one where you have to choose between two friends (suppose they're in a fight), does the heart tell you to choose friend A who has always been there for you or friend B who's not so reliable but whom you'd really like to spend more time with? It seems then that it is impossible (and meaningless) to 'follow your heart', since you still have to choose between which heart to follow.

I'm not suggesting that there is a always a perfect solution to these dilemmas (if it's that easy, they wouldn't be dilemmas), but the point is that it tends to be an over-simplification to think that there is really some sub-conscious decision already made up when we are considering the options to a problem. It seems more accurate to describe the mind (for this purpose of resolving dilemmas) as a collection of dispositions, with each disposition competing for dominance. Examples of such dispositions are the disposition to be moral and disposition to protect one's own interest. At times one disposition may prevail over another, and in those circumstances decisions are made quickly. At times these dispositions may disagree and be equally strong, resulting in a stalemate that puts us in a dilemma. This may resemble the Freudian id and superego sort of analysis to some extent, but in the case of trilemmas or quadlemmas, I think singling out these 'threads' of disposition in our minds is a fine tool for decision analysis. Dispositions can also be thought of as values or duties, as these things also have a tendency to conflict and surely have causal powers towards our decision-making.

No doubt this is merely a model for understanding or analysing the state of the human mind in considering a decision. However, under this view, there seems to be little space for such advices to have any significant value. Why give an advice if it doesn't help? But if an advice is indeed a dangerous gift, as quoted from J. R. R. Tolkien, this sort of advice is probably more harmless than the rest.

*I really like the Cantonese translation 'intersection/junction' (交叉點). Dilemmas are also real fun to think about as value tests, e.g. "would you rather eat a spoonful of cow faeces or lose your permanent job?" This isn't really relevant to the whole entry... it's just something fun to share.

**Many times I've come across the remark that this 'method' of serious consideration is just another form of wordplay or nit-picking exercise (鑽牛角尖) that is a complete waste of time. I find it hard to understand how one can see no value at all in contemplating the meaning of expressions, when it is clear that misinterpretation of language can so often be the cause of conflicts, confusion and problems. If you still think this is an utter waste of time, you may want to give this a try. 

Paradigm Shift

If I hadn't been organising the layout of my blog today, I probably wouldn't have come to re-read and ponder upon the entries that I have written some years ago. Although it wasn't entirely unexpected, I was initially rather shocked by some of the things that I have written before, which reflected the views that I had held (see here): 

(1) I argued that Hong Kong's functional constituencies serve a function that is comparable to the UK House of Lords, viz. supplying expertise to a piece of legislation. 

(2) By arguing against a radical reform of Hong Kong's political system, I was inclining towards the general pro-establishment view that we shouldn't be dogmatically rushing into universal suffrage.

(3) I clearly thought political stability was more important than securing universal suffrage as a political goal, as I thought the sort of political instability generated by legislative delays would ultimately damage Hong Kong's economy.

No doubt my beliefs today are different, if not completely contradicting my old views:

Functional constituencies, instead of facilitating a business environment that is favourable to a laissez-faire economy, seem more to me as obstacles hindering the implementation of fair welfare measures. Alternatively,  functional constituencies appear to me as "pockets of power" responsible for the phenomena indicative of market failure, economic inequality and alleged government-business collusions. Instead of seeing universal suffrage as a radical constitutional overhaul that we should remain sceptical about, I now see it as a necessary political solution to the economic, social and welfare woes now observed in Hong Kong. I no longer see "pleasing Beijing" even as a purely realpolitik policy to secure economic benefits and political stability for Hong Kong.

This sort of change in perspective, or a paradigm shift (though I'm not sure Thomas Kuhn would approve my use of the phrase) may have been triggered by the emergence of new evidence, more rigorous contemplation , or simply as a result of some remarkable personal experience.

If I were asked to give a reason for my "paradigm shift", I would say that the new events and evidence that has arisen require me to give a better explanation, and accordingly new claims and judgments (along with it a whole new paradigm) come along with these explanations. This reason for my "paradigm shift" is only acceptable on the condition that my old views had been based on reason; had it been simply based on personal taste, I would be accused of being irrational and inconsistent. In this case, maybe I shouldn't have been so shocked after all.  

On Receptivity

Perhaps one of the greatest qualities that a person can have, aside from being knowledgeable, clever or saintly moral, is to be receptive. To be receptive is to be open, in the sense that a receptive person would be open to new ideas, practices, and cultures. To be receptive is to be willing to consider novel perspectives, and to be prepared to accept the possibility that these perspectives are better or even (if it makes sense) truer. However, I would like to think of the quality of receptivity as something more complex. I would think of receptivity as a sort of Aristotelian virtue, a sort of golden mean that lies between two vices. The first vice lies in being excessively open: if you are too indiscriminate in adopting novel ideas and practices, your individuality will soon be eroded away by the mass influx of ideas, and ultimately you will end up hopelessly overwhelmed and confused. For one, being excessively indiscriminate to what you accept would encourage you to hold multiple sets of inconsistent beliefs. On the other extreme, if you are too sceptical with what you choose to accept, you fail to benefit from what you would otherwise receive from being exposed to new perspectives. Hence, to be receptive is really to strike the appropriate balance between indiscriminate acceptance and being excessively sceptical.

By employing reason as a tool, we determine which ideas ought to be kept at bay and which deserve at least some serious consideration; then with some good use of reason, we master the virtue of receptivity.  

「學而不思則罔, 思而不學則殆。」－論語
"He who learns but not think is confused; he who thinks but not learn is at risk."－ Analects

But I haven't yet said anything about the advantages of being receptive. I myself hold a certain view that receptivity can be thought of as an essential element of the "root of wisdom" (慧根), i.e. holding the key to wisdom. To be receptive is to be humble, to admit that one cannot know everything, and that one cannot claim to have access to the absolute truth. A receptive person never ceases to listen, to ask questions, or to learn. A receptive person acknowledges that he or she is always a student who has much to learn from others and Nature, and only assumes the position of a teacher with care and caution. Hence, receptivity is also a guard against arrogance and stubbornness. If one is willing to accept that there are things that one does not know (or cannot know) and that there may be better ideas out there, then naturally one would become more sceptical and reflective of one's current beliefs and stances. For very good reasons we want to be reflective and sceptical: without reflection we would naturally cling to our old beliefs, which with the passage of time tend to grow increasingly inconsistent with our phenomenal experience, and ultimately crystallise into dogmas. Hence, receptivity is essential for the attainment of intellectual, moral and spiritual progress, for it  encourages the processes of reflection and challenging our own beliefs.