are prejudices we indulge to compensate for lack of certainty. Schulz uses a categorical division of "pessimistic" and "optimistic" conceptions of error. But Schulz celebrates error more specifically humility in the face of error as one of humanity's greatest achievements. The answer apologies for the spoiler is "not much". What sounds like a clever device at the start feels flimsy by the end. Those of us who fancy ourselves as rationalists would claim that we judge new information according to evidence before deciding whether to file it in our minds as truth.
This book does not. The mind s capacity for error can be astounding, says Rafael B ehr. Kathryn Schulz joined The New Yorker as a staff writer in 2015. In 2016, she won the Pulitzer Prize for feature writing and a National Magazine.
You have, like it or not, at some cognitive level, accepted it as true. The stakes dont seem to matter much; its more important to bet on the right foreign policy than the right racehorse, but we are perfectly capable of gloating over either one. Even if your conscious mind was promptly flooded the swimmer literary analysis essay with questions about the dietary preferences of armour-plated mammals, the starting point for your internal debate remains the assertion that they are partial to a wedge of brie. Hence the cheese-eating armadillo. Her introduction is so over-written I thought I would hate the whole book. But on reading the statement, your brain absorbed the information regardless of its reliability. And far from being a mark of indifference or intolerance, wrongness is a vital part of how we learn and change. So I chalk my own existence up as fact.
Why is it so fun to be right?
As pleasures go, it is, after all, a second order one at best.
All of these experiences work against Kathryn Schulz s message, and yet somehow she is able to change our minds in a little over seventeen.