Looking back at my reflections so far, I have discussed skepticism as well as the interconnected ideas of liberalism, capitalism and individualism. These are certainly important, since they recur throughout the book, but they're not all the book is about. If they were, the book would be a treatise on political philosophy, and not a very good one. So I'm going to focus the rest of my review on the rest of the book, which really develops the main theme that Magnus wants to discuss: how to detect and cope with change.
Aspects on adaptation
Among the interesting aspects of change that Magnus discusses in his book is the fact that humans as a rule are unwilling to accept change. This is not strange; usually, you prefer the devil you know. But the book also brings up biological and psychological factors that inhibit our willingness to change. Certainly, some more depth could be added to these discussions. To me, it seems only natural to connect this discussion to evolutionary theory. But then again, there probably is a reason why I haven't got a book published.
Magnus also makes a real effort to give practical, hands-on advice on how to detect change. These are summarized at the end of each chapter by "the trendspotter Mission manual", a short comic with tips. This is a nice touch, and the tips seem sound overall, even though there is the occasional one which seems a bit limited in scope. When I read "Use public transport! Go to where the people are. Don't spend all your time in taxis and business-class lounges" (p. 136) I feel a bit... out of the loop, so to say. This gives the impression that the book is not intended for "the people", and that's unfortunate. I know, I know, it's a business book, intended for business people. But the entire "MyCapital" idea should lead to the conclusion that anyone can be a business person in today's world, and thus the book's ideas ought to have universal appeal. As I've stated before, I don't agree with the MyCapital idea, but I didn't write the book, so this type of categorization shouldn't exist within it.
More on the exciting idea of categorization
Speaking of categorization, there's a lot of that going on in the book. Initially, four ways of looking at the future are presented (p. 8), and in the end, there is a discussion of pessimism vs optimism. OK, so it's not that much categorization going on in the book. But I'm still going to discuss the categories presented.
The "future-view"-categories are interesting. Magnus labels them Utopians/Dystopians (i.e. everything is going great/to Hell), the Pendulum/the Spiral Staircase (everything recurs endelesly, with the Spiral staircasists adding a general trend upwards or downwards), and finally the Black Hole (we don't know). After reading this, I wondered about how these different views hold up: what are the strengths and weaknesses of each? However, there is no follow-up discussion of them. I am left pondering them in my loneliness, thinking about where I fit in. Well, let' face it, I'd be alone anyway, and as far as I know I have a little of each view within me (I know, I have no principles. At least I'm aware of it, and ashamed of my glaring deficiencies (and not just regarding principles). Still, it would be interesting to hear Magnus' ideas about these views, and whether he aligns himself with any of them (not the Black hole one, I presume). He is a futurologist, after all.
Regarding the age-old distinction of pessimism versus optimism, Magnus tries to do a Kant. For anyone not being a philosophy geek, that means "to combine two antithetic viewpoints into one, thus creating a new, synthetic viewpoint, which incorporates elements of both the original viewpoints". At least, that's how I defined it just now. Kant. Look him up. Well, he's dead so you can't (or is that Kant?), but you can read about him somewhere. Wikipedia probably has an article.
Anyway, the point of the synthesis of pessimism and optimism is that both viewpoints can be useful when thinking about the future. This is an interesting notion, which I also would like to be explained more in-depth. However, the presentation of the viewpoints in unbalanced, with Magnus clearly arguing much more substantially for optimism than pessimism. While pessimism is treated rather vaguely, Magnus presents three hard arguments for optimism. Two of them seem invalid to me, though I accept the argument for globalism as, in general, a good development (at least in the way that Magnus presents it). There are no three hard arguments for pessimism in the book, so the entire synthesis of the two viewpoints lacks balance. It's like Magnus really wants to argue for optimism, but he can't do it without first giving some room for the possibility of pessismism. At least Kant's synthesis worked. Granted, Kant synthesized notions that were blatantly obvious to all except philosophers, while Magnus tries to combine two fundamentally opposed worldviews (dare I say: like his own and mine own?).
Wrap it up! Pleeeaaase!
I believe I could continue writing about the ideas in Magnus' book for quite some time, but I really need to focus on my job. So I'm going to finish this review now. To sum it up, I do not agree with most of the underlying assumptions of the book, and thus naturally I do not come to the conclusions that Magnus reaches. Still, the book is engaging and thought-provoking, at least to me (sadly, my experience tells me that this cannot be extrapolated to cover more than a minuscule proportion of the population). The strong parts about change and the different attitudes toward it are interesting, even though I personally would like more in-depth analysis. There are some annoying errors. My sense of pointing out errors wouldn't be satisfied if I didn't point out one more: "idiot" is not Latin, it's Greek. It means "private citizen, individual", and was used as a derogatory term about people who only thought of themselves and not the common welfare of society. Well, it would sound bad to mention this in the book, since a possible evolution of the word could be "idiotism" (synonymous to "individualism"). In any case, that is a proofreading problem. Still, would be nice to be annoyed by the right things (i.e. the ideas), not by such errors.
A final quote from the book: "Like-minded people are the most dangerous people in the world" (p. 160). It follows that, in order to adhere to this particular advice of the book, I should not accept the advice of the book (since that would make my mind more like Magnus'). Perhaps then, my review proves the perfect counterpoint to Magnus' reasoning. Then again, probably not. Well, at least I did something more than say: "I liked it".
If you've endured my entire review, then you should get some kind of reward, but I don't have one to give. It follows that you shouldn't have read through it all. Too bad for you. With these words I leave you to reflect on why you didn't do something more worthwhile with your time.
tisdag 24 november 2009
söndag 22 november 2009
If I know it, and it's wrong, then I don't know it: A skeptical review of Everything we know is wrong (part 2)
OK, so I will now attempt to continue my review of my reading of Magnus' book. In my last entry, I rambled on about skepticism. This time, I will turn my attention to the underlying notions of the book. Of course, I will continue questioning things, aiming to tear down what others have so meticulously built.
The words and the things: individualism, liberalism and capitalism
If there is one ism that Magnus really supports in his book, it is individualism. Chapter 1 of the book is about how individualization has changed capitalism. According to the book, increased individualization during the late 20th century has remolded capitalism so it does not fit the traditional notion of capitalism anymore. Hence Magnus' term, "MyCapital".
The arguments put forth for this development are mainly technology and globalization. Technological advances have made it possible for each of us to produce things without having to ask for permission. For example, anyone can record a film and distribute it on the Internet. All you need is a digital camcorder. And access to the Internet of course. But everyone has that, right? Globalization in this context means that you can get ideas from all over the world, and combine them into new ideas.
The problem with this line of arguing is not that it isn't true - as far as I know, Magnus is correct here - but that the scope of the argumentation is limited. Not everyone has access to the net or the means to get a camcorder, or the time to actually record a film, or to search for new ideas all over the world. I contend that this is limited to the emerging global middle and upper middle classes and above. This is a strata of society I belong to, as well as Magnus. But just because the two of us have these possibilities (as well as probably anyone who reads this), it does not follow that everyone has. The conclusion in the book, "We can do whatever we want", remains limited to a rather narrow definition of "we", even if the line of reasoning holds true.
Another argument is that more wealth is being generated by more people: the traditional elite, defined by inherited family fortune, is not representative of wealth anymore. A diagram from the 2003 World wealth report is provided as statistical evidence of this, showing the proportion of inherited wealth shrinking in relation to the newly generated wealth (p. 33).
Studying the diagram, I don't understand how this proves anything at all about the changed nature of capitalism. The diagram shows a proportional change from the 1960s to 2002. The conclusion drawn in the book is that this shows the emergence of "MyCapital": the rich people of today are not stuffy old white men sitting on inherited family fortunes, but young, risk-prone, open-minded people of all colors and sexes. Another conclusion, drawn by me, is that it only shows the increase in population. With the world population increasing 50%, in 25 years, from 4 billion in 1975 to 6 billion in 2000, it seems only natural that more room is added for some people to generate huge amounts of wealth. It does not show that capitalism has become "better". For this, we would need some kind of noticeable distributional change, for example that a significantly larger percentage of the world's population is richer, without anyone becoming proportionally poorer. Even if this could be proven, one would still have to demonstrate the causal relation between the distributional change and capitalism, for it to have any bearing on what capitalism means.
Is individualism and liberalism the same thing?
Well, statistics is really not my forte, so I've probably overlooked something. Let's instead discuss individualism as a value. It sounds nice, right? But what does it mean? Magnus defines it as "the idea that society is made up of separate individuals whose needs and desires should always prevail in a group, with the added disclaimer "as long as it doesn't harm other people"" (p. 31). This definition sounds very similar to classic liberal definition of freedom, as it was formulated in the Citizen rights bill during the French revolution: Freedom consists of doing whatever you want, as long as you don't harm other people. Even today, this is a very widespread and accepted definition of freedom.
Let's take a closer look at Magnus' definition of individualism. It consists of several notions. First, a factual claim: "Society is made up of separate individuals". Personally, I believe the "individuals" part, but not the "separate" part. But, for the sake of not making this review inhumanly long, lets skip ahead to the more interesting parts of the definition. The next can be written as follows: "The needs and desires of the separate individuals should always prevail in a group". Now this is a remarkable statement. I'm not really sure what it means. It could mean many things. For example, lets say that me and my 10 friends have collected an amount of money. Now I want to use the money to but a new TV, but the others want to buy food so they can survive. According to the definition, my desire should prevail, since I'm an individual.
Of course, I don't think that's what Magnus means. I'm merely pointing out that the definition is dangerously vague and could be interpreted in strange ways. In all probability, Magnus rather means that a group of people cannot impose its will on me, the individual. Or they can, but they shouldn't because then it wouldn't be individualism. So in the example above, I could use my own money to buy a TV, but not the money of the others: they have the right to their money and can do whatever they want with it.
I don't think this is a good line of reasoning. At first glance, it seems fine. But what if the fact that I don't contribute my money causes the other ten people to die? Is it still OK for me to not contribute my money? According to the definition, yes. This I don't accept. I think you're morally obliged to contribute your money in that case, whether you want to or not. This is an analogy to Peter Singer's famous moral dilemma: if you see a drowning child, are you morally obliged to attempt to save it, even if your clothes will get wet when you do it?
Now the liberals have tried to save their definition of freedom just like Magnus qualifies his definition of individualism: by adding the "as long as it doesn't harm other people". Once again, this sounds very nice, but what does it mean? I've never seen or heard anyone actually explain what it means not to harm other people. Most people probably agree that this principle rules out murder and rape. So far so good. But how about the Singer-example above? Is it possible that you can hurt someone through your lack of action? Or, is it acceptable not to attempt to save the drowning child?
The list goes on. How about mental suffering? How about commercial competition? I mean, when you compete, you hurt other companies, and thus the persons working there, financially. So, according to this definition, free competition is wrong. Right?
In sum, the liberal definition of freedom that Magnus builds his definition of individualism upon is very vague and, if taken literally, leads to conclusions that seem to contradict other values (such as capitalism) that are put forward as aligned with individualism. Perhaps there are ways to make it work, I'm not sure. But the definition appears a bit hollow (just like classic liberalism).
Personally, I think the liberal notion of freedom is bullcrap. And I think it is used as a shield behind which anything is actually considered acceptable, as long as it generates money. I am more inclined towards the existential definition of individualism. According to this definition, individualism is a statement about what kind of life is the best kind of life, namely the life of self-development/self-realisation. As Nietzsche put it, "become who you are". You can read more about this version of individualism in Mark Rowlands' excellent book Everything I know I learned from TV.
Twisted values: add a hint of Marxism, and let it simmer
After this rant about the problems of liberalism, let's turn Marxist for a while. What? Are we to enforce collectivization of all cultivated soil? No, fun though that may be, I was thinking more along the lines of philosophical Marxism. One of the problems Marx saw in a society dominated by capitalist thinking was that our value-systems would become twisted by capitalist thinking. Specifically, our view of other people would tend to become instrumental. In a society where economic growth is the only true measure of success, the tendency to quantify everything in monetary terms would spill over into all areas of life. Marx didn't like this tendency, as it could threaten to create a view of people as things that can be bought or sold like any commodity.
There are some signs of this "twisted view" in the book. Perhaps most clearly, what people do because they love to do it is categorized as a "hidden economy" (p. 39). The line of reasoning is then that what people do with their own free time is important, because with globalization, they can connect with like-minded people. Sure, but why view this as an "economy" at all? This is never explained in the book, it's just taken for granted. Of course it can be viewed as an economy, but should it be? I'm not sure, especially since I don't understand the purpose of labeling it as such.
Another example, which I sincerely hope is a glitch in the proofreading, is when prostitution is defined as "paying for love" (p.24). No, prostitution is usually defined as selling one's own body for sexual services. The one who pays solicits a prostitute. But what does prostitution have to do with love? Nothing, as far as I know. OK, so I don't have much experience in either field. But I really don't want any experience with prostitution (or, for that matter, soliciting prostitutes). And call me reactionary, but if that's how love is viewed today I don't want any part of it either. I know, I'm not hip or cool or following the trend here, but the very notion of "paying for love" is repugnant to me. Luckily for the rest of the world, this means I will not reproduce, and future generations will be rid of my untimely complaints.
If you're aggravated at my complete lack of focus in this text, or the fact that I'm so unashamedly subjective, you will be happy to note that the text is finished now. That is, it would be if I didn't have more to write about the book. So there will be a third part. Don't think Return of the Jedi, think more along the lines of Revenge of the Sith.
The words and the things: individualism, liberalism and capitalism
If there is one ism that Magnus really supports in his book, it is individualism. Chapter 1 of the book is about how individualization has changed capitalism. According to the book, increased individualization during the late 20th century has remolded capitalism so it does not fit the traditional notion of capitalism anymore. Hence Magnus' term, "MyCapital".
The arguments put forth for this development are mainly technology and globalization. Technological advances have made it possible for each of us to produce things without having to ask for permission. For example, anyone can record a film and distribute it on the Internet. All you need is a digital camcorder. And access to the Internet of course. But everyone has that, right? Globalization in this context means that you can get ideas from all over the world, and combine them into new ideas.
The problem with this line of arguing is not that it isn't true - as far as I know, Magnus is correct here - but that the scope of the argumentation is limited. Not everyone has access to the net or the means to get a camcorder, or the time to actually record a film, or to search for new ideas all over the world. I contend that this is limited to the emerging global middle and upper middle classes and above. This is a strata of society I belong to, as well as Magnus. But just because the two of us have these possibilities (as well as probably anyone who reads this), it does not follow that everyone has. The conclusion in the book, "We can do whatever we want", remains limited to a rather narrow definition of "we", even if the line of reasoning holds true.
Another argument is that more wealth is being generated by more people: the traditional elite, defined by inherited family fortune, is not representative of wealth anymore. A diagram from the 2003 World wealth report is provided as statistical evidence of this, showing the proportion of inherited wealth shrinking in relation to the newly generated wealth (p. 33).
Studying the diagram, I don't understand how this proves anything at all about the changed nature of capitalism. The diagram shows a proportional change from the 1960s to 2002. The conclusion drawn in the book is that this shows the emergence of "MyCapital": the rich people of today are not stuffy old white men sitting on inherited family fortunes, but young, risk-prone, open-minded people of all colors and sexes. Another conclusion, drawn by me, is that it only shows the increase in population. With the world population increasing 50%, in 25 years, from 4 billion in 1975 to 6 billion in 2000, it seems only natural that more room is added for some people to generate huge amounts of wealth. It does not show that capitalism has become "better". For this, we would need some kind of noticeable distributional change, for example that a significantly larger percentage of the world's population is richer, without anyone becoming proportionally poorer. Even if this could be proven, one would still have to demonstrate the causal relation between the distributional change and capitalism, for it to have any bearing on what capitalism means.
Is individualism and liberalism the same thing?
Well, statistics is really not my forte, so I've probably overlooked something. Let's instead discuss individualism as a value. It sounds nice, right? But what does it mean? Magnus defines it as "the idea that society is made up of separate individuals whose needs and desires should always prevail in a group, with the added disclaimer "as long as it doesn't harm other people"" (p. 31). This definition sounds very similar to classic liberal definition of freedom, as it was formulated in the Citizen rights bill during the French revolution: Freedom consists of doing whatever you want, as long as you don't harm other people. Even today, this is a very widespread and accepted definition of freedom.
Let's take a closer look at Magnus' definition of individualism. It consists of several notions. First, a factual claim: "Society is made up of separate individuals". Personally, I believe the "individuals" part, but not the "separate" part. But, for the sake of not making this review inhumanly long, lets skip ahead to the more interesting parts of the definition. The next can be written as follows: "The needs and desires of the separate individuals should always prevail in a group". Now this is a remarkable statement. I'm not really sure what it means. It could mean many things. For example, lets say that me and my 10 friends have collected an amount of money. Now I want to use the money to but a new TV, but the others want to buy food so they can survive. According to the definition, my desire should prevail, since I'm an individual.
Of course, I don't think that's what Magnus means. I'm merely pointing out that the definition is dangerously vague and could be interpreted in strange ways. In all probability, Magnus rather means that a group of people cannot impose its will on me, the individual. Or they can, but they shouldn't because then it wouldn't be individualism. So in the example above, I could use my own money to buy a TV, but not the money of the others: they have the right to their money and can do whatever they want with it.
I don't think this is a good line of reasoning. At first glance, it seems fine. But what if the fact that I don't contribute my money causes the other ten people to die? Is it still OK for me to not contribute my money? According to the definition, yes. This I don't accept. I think you're morally obliged to contribute your money in that case, whether you want to or not. This is an analogy to Peter Singer's famous moral dilemma: if you see a drowning child, are you morally obliged to attempt to save it, even if your clothes will get wet when you do it?
Now the liberals have tried to save their definition of freedom just like Magnus qualifies his definition of individualism: by adding the "as long as it doesn't harm other people". Once again, this sounds very nice, but what does it mean? I've never seen or heard anyone actually explain what it means not to harm other people. Most people probably agree that this principle rules out murder and rape. So far so good. But how about the Singer-example above? Is it possible that you can hurt someone through your lack of action? Or, is it acceptable not to attempt to save the drowning child?
The list goes on. How about mental suffering? How about commercial competition? I mean, when you compete, you hurt other companies, and thus the persons working there, financially. So, according to this definition, free competition is wrong. Right?
In sum, the liberal definition of freedom that Magnus builds his definition of individualism upon is very vague and, if taken literally, leads to conclusions that seem to contradict other values (such as capitalism) that are put forward as aligned with individualism. Perhaps there are ways to make it work, I'm not sure. But the definition appears a bit hollow (just like classic liberalism).
Personally, I think the liberal notion of freedom is bullcrap. And I think it is used as a shield behind which anything is actually considered acceptable, as long as it generates money. I am more inclined towards the existential definition of individualism. According to this definition, individualism is a statement about what kind of life is the best kind of life, namely the life of self-development/self-realisation. As Nietzsche put it, "become who you are". You can read more about this version of individualism in Mark Rowlands' excellent book Everything I know I learned from TV.
Twisted values: add a hint of Marxism, and let it simmer
After this rant about the problems of liberalism, let's turn Marxist for a while. What? Are we to enforce collectivization of all cultivated soil? No, fun though that may be, I was thinking more along the lines of philosophical Marxism. One of the problems Marx saw in a society dominated by capitalist thinking was that our value-systems would become twisted by capitalist thinking. Specifically, our view of other people would tend to become instrumental. In a society where economic growth is the only true measure of success, the tendency to quantify everything in monetary terms would spill over into all areas of life. Marx didn't like this tendency, as it could threaten to create a view of people as things that can be bought or sold like any commodity.
There are some signs of this "twisted view" in the book. Perhaps most clearly, what people do because they love to do it is categorized as a "hidden economy" (p. 39). The line of reasoning is then that what people do with their own free time is important, because with globalization, they can connect with like-minded people. Sure, but why view this as an "economy" at all? This is never explained in the book, it's just taken for granted. Of course it can be viewed as an economy, but should it be? I'm not sure, especially since I don't understand the purpose of labeling it as such.
Another example, which I sincerely hope is a glitch in the proofreading, is when prostitution is defined as "paying for love" (p.24). No, prostitution is usually defined as selling one's own body for sexual services. The one who pays solicits a prostitute. But what does prostitution have to do with love? Nothing, as far as I know. OK, so I don't have much experience in either field. But I really don't want any experience with prostitution (or, for that matter, soliciting prostitutes). And call me reactionary, but if that's how love is viewed today I don't want any part of it either. I know, I'm not hip or cool or following the trend here, but the very notion of "paying for love" is repugnant to me. Luckily for the rest of the world, this means I will not reproduce, and future generations will be rid of my untimely complaints.
If you're aggravated at my complete lack of focus in this text, or the fact that I'm so unashamedly subjective, you will be happy to note that the text is finished now. That is, it would be if I didn't have more to write about the book. So there will be a third part. Don't think Return of the Jedi, think more along the lines of Revenge of the Sith.
fredag 20 november 2009
Is everything I know really wrong? A skeptical review of Everything we know is wrong
When I was a kid, me and my brothers pretended we had a rock band and performed fake shows together with our cousins. In fact, my oldest cousin Magnus was the driving force behind the whole idea, and during our pretend concerts he was the lead singer. If we had been a boy band, he'd have been the charismatic one. I can see the rest of us typecast into other roles: my big brother Jesper would have been the cool one, while my younger brother Johan would have been the angry one. Magnus' brothers Gustav and Oskar would have been the crazy one and the cute one, respectively. As a matter of fact, the only one I cannot see typecast is myself. Or rather, it would be into roles not commonly associated with boy bands - at least not commercially successful ones. The boring one. The mediocre one. As I said, not really commercially successful. I just tagged along in order not to be left out.
So, why am I bringing up this slightly embarrassing fact from my own past? Well, as it turns out, Magnus is still a driving force: recently he's had his first book published (it's called Everything we know is wrong! The trendspotter's handbook, by Magnus Lindkvist) . And just like in our past, I will now attempt to tag along. Why? Well, basically because he's got a book published and I haven't. Not that I haven't tried. To be sure, I didn't try very hard, but still. Anyway, Magnus is the first person I really know that's written a book and had it published. I think it's cool. And of course I'm a little bit jealous. Not that I have the stamina, talent or wherewithal to actually write a book, but still.
By the way, as you surely have noted I'm writing this review in English. Why? Well, for some reason it feels right.
So, this is my attempt to honour my cousin as best I can. My attempt will probably be misinterpreted (how's that for thinking my opinions actually matter?). That's OK, I'm used to that. Let me just be clear on one thing: this review is not about his book. If you want to know about it, read it yourself. Like any other review (despite what people may try to tell you), this is a review of my reading of his book. I just happen to be honest about it. It follows from this statement that what follows should be completely uninteresting to everyone except myself. If you go on reading, you have at least been warned.
What's in a name?
I first heard the book's title a few months ago and was thrilled. Everything we know is wrong. Admit it: you're intrigued, perhaps a little provoked, by this title. Well, at least I was. Of course, I have learned not to expect too much from anything or anyone, so I was not completely carried away. But still.
So, why do I like the title? Well, for starters it causes a paradox in my consciousness. When I read the sentence "Everything we know is wrong", I learn that everything we know is wrong. So I can say that I know that everything we know is wrong. But if everything we know is wrong, and I know this fact, then it must be wrong. Thus, I don't know it, I only think I do. But in fact, everything we know isn't wrong. Or is it?
I've always loved these kinds of language paradoxes. To me, they are symbols of the uncertainty of knowledge. That's right, I'm a skeptic. I doubt my own knowledge of the world around me. I sincerely doubt my own capabilities. Come to think of it, I'm not even that sure I'm actually a skeptic. I just think I am.
So, thanks to the title, my curiosity was piqued. Considering Magnus' great rhetorical skill, the book would surely be a good read, even if I don't agree with him, I also reasoned. I know from previous experience that Magnus and I don't have very similar worldviews.
What about the book?
First off, let me say that the book is as eloquent as its author. Magnus is a great speaker, and with this book he has successfully transferred his skill to the written medium. The text is easy and engaging, the ideas as a rule clearly illustrated with striking examples. Sometimes the examples are of a personal nature, and are then recounted with disarming honesty.
However, eloquence by itself does not a good book make. What is also needed is substance. And the risk/thrill of writing down one's thoughts is that these thoughts are available for scrutiny. This is the mission I have taken upon myself: to scrutinize the ideas in Everything we know is wrong. Do they hold up to my skeptical gaze? The answer, of course, is no. Nothing ever does. But the process of scrutinizing hopefully produces some thoughts and reflections. So if you're not bored to tears already, do read on. Anyway, it's too late to go back after you've completed reading this paragraph. Prove me wrong.
The main themes of the book
As I understand it, the major purpose of the book is to present thoughts on how to anticipate and understand trends. Another way to put it is that it is about change, and how one can be better at adapting to change. Around this general concept, several ideas are presented. The ones I noticed are the following:
A skeptical approach to knowledge is needed. "Assume that everything is wrong, and a rampant curiosity will lead you to new and better answer [sic]" (p. 160).
Individualization is a force that is changing the world. Specifically, it's making the world better. Case in point, the evolution of capitalism into "MyCapital".
The human mind isn't adapted to detect the many different levels and nuances of change in the world. Therefore, several changes in attitude are necessary if you want to be able to spot the trends, i.e. detect change.
I will address each of these points, beginning with how the epistemological stance I call my own is used in the book.
A 21st century Descartes; or, the problem with being skeptical
In the book, the skeptical attitude is emphasized as something positive. Above, I quoted one statement pointing in that direction. Another one is "a much greater world reveals itself to those of us ready to live in doubt and scepticism" (p. 9). Skepticism is contrasted with religious fundamentalism, and the skeptical approach is judged the better of the two. In another part, Magnus states that "my aim is to make people happier and to produce better decision-makers." (p. 158)
Reading these different quotes, I come to the conclusion that what is presented in the book is not really a case for skepticism. Why? Well, skepticism is basically defined by one sentence: "I don't know". The skeptic is uncertain and doubts everything. That's right, everything. This of course must include judgments such as "it's good to be a skeptic".
There's no explanation how thinking skeptically would make someone happier. I would like to argue that constant uncertainty tends to make you unhappy. That of course depends on how you define happiness. For the sake of argument, I will use the most common definition, namely that happiness is a form of pleasure, i.e. a feeling (a view which I do not adhere to personally). Now being uncertain about things does not, as a rule, increase your general pleasure or well-being. Rather, it causes intense anxiety.
The notion that skepticism would make people better decision-makers is equally problematic. If you're a skeptic, you really can't decide. You need to go through the facts thoroughly, only to find that you still can't decide. Because you don't know! Good decision-makers aren't skeptical, they go out on a limb and decide using what scant evidence they have. Sometimes the decision is good and sometimes it's bad, but at least they do something. A skeptic doesn't. To put it bluntly, a skeptic is probably the worst possible decision-maker. Even if a skeptic attempts to decide something, he must constantly question himself: "How can I know this is the right move? Isn't it probable that one of the millions of other choices was a better move? Isn't it probable that one of the billions of other people alive would be much better suited to do this than I?" A skeptic isn't a leader, and certainly not a decision-maker. A skeptic doubts and hesitates.
As for happiness, the studies made on happiness has showed that religious people are generally happier than non-religious (read Richard Layard's Happiness for more on this). Thus, empirically speaking, those religious fundamentalists are more likely to be happy than, for example, me.
Thus, adopting a skeptical stance seems counter-productive to Magnus' stated aim of making people happier and producing better decision-makers. If he wants happy people, he should promote religiosity, and better decision-making... well, I don't know. That depends on what kind of decisions you want to make, I suppose.
A closer look at the contents of the book also reveals that it is certainly not a skeptical attitude that is promoted. Rather, certain notions are held up as legitimate targets for questioning, while other notions are unquestioningly accepted as prima facie truths.
This approach reminds me of the 17th century philosopher René Descartes. Much like Magnus, Descartes wrote about skepticism, and also used it. In Descartes' case, he used it to question all his knowledge about the world (much like the provoking title, Everything we know is wrong). However, after making the skeptical claim that he couldn't really be sure of anything, Descartes retreated from his skeptical position. All of a sudden, he "realized" that there must be a God. Given that, everything else turned out to be provable.
Descartes was no skeptic. He merely claimed to be, to make his line of argument appeal more to those critical of dogmatic truths (such as the existence of God). Analogously, I believe that Magnus is not skeptical at all, he merely claims to be. Because if he really were skeptical, he would question his own underlying assumptions about individualization, capitalism, liberalism etc as vehemently as anything else. And of course, the title would be more like "Everything I know is probably wrong, but I'm not sure". But, like Descartes, the skeptical attitude seems to be reserved for some notions and are not applied universally.
A skeptical attitude is great against notions you don't like, but the problem is turning it towards the notion you build your own worldview on. That's the tricky part. Those few of us actually claiming to be skeptics eventually become so exhausted from doubt that we accept the worldview of any reasonably nice person in our vicinity, in the vain hope that while I don't have a clue, maybe this person has. That's not the secret to success in life (well, that depends on how you define "success").
I'm probably way out of line here. The book is not a philosophical treatise, it's a business guidebook (at least according to the categorization on the cover). And that's probably good, because if it was a philosophical treatise titled as i suggested above, no one in their right mind would read it. But since it makes general claims about the world and our perception of it, I read it as a philosophical book.
This entry must be tedious reading. To spare you, my fictitious reader, from more suffering right now, I will continue my review, discussing the other aspects of the book, in another blog entry. Something like a part 2.
So, why am I bringing up this slightly embarrassing fact from my own past? Well, as it turns out, Magnus is still a driving force: recently he's had his first book published (it's called Everything we know is wrong! The trendspotter's handbook, by Magnus Lindkvist) . And just like in our past, I will now attempt to tag along. Why? Well, basically because he's got a book published and I haven't. Not that I haven't tried. To be sure, I didn't try very hard, but still. Anyway, Magnus is the first person I really know that's written a book and had it published. I think it's cool. And of course I'm a little bit jealous. Not that I have the stamina, talent or wherewithal to actually write a book, but still.
By the way, as you surely have noted I'm writing this review in English. Why? Well, for some reason it feels right.
So, this is my attempt to honour my cousin as best I can. My attempt will probably be misinterpreted (how's that for thinking my opinions actually matter?). That's OK, I'm used to that. Let me just be clear on one thing: this review is not about his book. If you want to know about it, read it yourself. Like any other review (despite what people may try to tell you), this is a review of my reading of his book. I just happen to be honest about it. It follows from this statement that what follows should be completely uninteresting to everyone except myself. If you go on reading, you have at least been warned.
What's in a name?
I first heard the book's title a few months ago and was thrilled. Everything we know is wrong. Admit it: you're intrigued, perhaps a little provoked, by this title. Well, at least I was. Of course, I have learned not to expect too much from anything or anyone, so I was not completely carried away. But still.
So, why do I like the title? Well, for starters it causes a paradox in my consciousness. When I read the sentence "Everything we know is wrong", I learn that everything we know is wrong. So I can say that I know that everything we know is wrong. But if everything we know is wrong, and I know this fact, then it must be wrong. Thus, I don't know it, I only think I do. But in fact, everything we know isn't wrong. Or is it?
I've always loved these kinds of language paradoxes. To me, they are symbols of the uncertainty of knowledge. That's right, I'm a skeptic. I doubt my own knowledge of the world around me. I sincerely doubt my own capabilities. Come to think of it, I'm not even that sure I'm actually a skeptic. I just think I am.
So, thanks to the title, my curiosity was piqued. Considering Magnus' great rhetorical skill, the book would surely be a good read, even if I don't agree with him, I also reasoned. I know from previous experience that Magnus and I don't have very similar worldviews.
What about the book?
First off, let me say that the book is as eloquent as its author. Magnus is a great speaker, and with this book he has successfully transferred his skill to the written medium. The text is easy and engaging, the ideas as a rule clearly illustrated with striking examples. Sometimes the examples are of a personal nature, and are then recounted with disarming honesty.
However, eloquence by itself does not a good book make. What is also needed is substance. And the risk/thrill of writing down one's thoughts is that these thoughts are available for scrutiny. This is the mission I have taken upon myself: to scrutinize the ideas in Everything we know is wrong. Do they hold up to my skeptical gaze? The answer, of course, is no. Nothing ever does. But the process of scrutinizing hopefully produces some thoughts and reflections. So if you're not bored to tears already, do read on. Anyway, it's too late to go back after you've completed reading this paragraph. Prove me wrong.
The main themes of the book
As I understand it, the major purpose of the book is to present thoughts on how to anticipate and understand trends. Another way to put it is that it is about change, and how one can be better at adapting to change. Around this general concept, several ideas are presented. The ones I noticed are the following:
A skeptical approach to knowledge is needed. "Assume that everything is wrong, and a rampant curiosity will lead you to new and better answer [sic]" (p. 160).
Individualization is a force that is changing the world. Specifically, it's making the world better. Case in point, the evolution of capitalism into "MyCapital".
The human mind isn't adapted to detect the many different levels and nuances of change in the world. Therefore, several changes in attitude are necessary if you want to be able to spot the trends, i.e. detect change.
I will address each of these points, beginning with how the epistemological stance I call my own is used in the book.
A 21st century Descartes; or, the problem with being skeptical
In the book, the skeptical attitude is emphasized as something positive. Above, I quoted one statement pointing in that direction. Another one is "a much greater world reveals itself to those of us ready to live in doubt and scepticism" (p. 9). Skepticism is contrasted with religious fundamentalism, and the skeptical approach is judged the better of the two. In another part, Magnus states that "my aim is to make people happier and to produce better decision-makers." (p. 158)
Reading these different quotes, I come to the conclusion that what is presented in the book is not really a case for skepticism. Why? Well, skepticism is basically defined by one sentence: "I don't know". The skeptic is uncertain and doubts everything. That's right, everything. This of course must include judgments such as "it's good to be a skeptic".
There's no explanation how thinking skeptically would make someone happier. I would like to argue that constant uncertainty tends to make you unhappy. That of course depends on how you define happiness. For the sake of argument, I will use the most common definition, namely that happiness is a form of pleasure, i.e. a feeling (a view which I do not adhere to personally). Now being uncertain about things does not, as a rule, increase your general pleasure or well-being. Rather, it causes intense anxiety.
The notion that skepticism would make people better decision-makers is equally problematic. If you're a skeptic, you really can't decide. You need to go through the facts thoroughly, only to find that you still can't decide. Because you don't know! Good decision-makers aren't skeptical, they go out on a limb and decide using what scant evidence they have. Sometimes the decision is good and sometimes it's bad, but at least they do something. A skeptic doesn't. To put it bluntly, a skeptic is probably the worst possible decision-maker. Even if a skeptic attempts to decide something, he must constantly question himself: "How can I know this is the right move? Isn't it probable that one of the millions of other choices was a better move? Isn't it probable that one of the billions of other people alive would be much better suited to do this than I?" A skeptic isn't a leader, and certainly not a decision-maker. A skeptic doubts and hesitates.
As for happiness, the studies made on happiness has showed that religious people are generally happier than non-religious (read Richard Layard's Happiness for more on this). Thus, empirically speaking, those religious fundamentalists are more likely to be happy than, for example, me.
Thus, adopting a skeptical stance seems counter-productive to Magnus' stated aim of making people happier and producing better decision-makers. If he wants happy people, he should promote religiosity, and better decision-making... well, I don't know. That depends on what kind of decisions you want to make, I suppose.
A closer look at the contents of the book also reveals that it is certainly not a skeptical attitude that is promoted. Rather, certain notions are held up as legitimate targets for questioning, while other notions are unquestioningly accepted as prima facie truths.
This approach reminds me of the 17th century philosopher René Descartes. Much like Magnus, Descartes wrote about skepticism, and also used it. In Descartes' case, he used it to question all his knowledge about the world (much like the provoking title, Everything we know is wrong). However, after making the skeptical claim that he couldn't really be sure of anything, Descartes retreated from his skeptical position. All of a sudden, he "realized" that there must be a God. Given that, everything else turned out to be provable.
Descartes was no skeptic. He merely claimed to be, to make his line of argument appeal more to those critical of dogmatic truths (such as the existence of God). Analogously, I believe that Magnus is not skeptical at all, he merely claims to be. Because if he really were skeptical, he would question his own underlying assumptions about individualization, capitalism, liberalism etc as vehemently as anything else. And of course, the title would be more like "Everything I know is probably wrong, but I'm not sure". But, like Descartes, the skeptical attitude seems to be reserved for some notions and are not applied universally.
A skeptical attitude is great against notions you don't like, but the problem is turning it towards the notion you build your own worldview on. That's the tricky part. Those few of us actually claiming to be skeptics eventually become so exhausted from doubt that we accept the worldview of any reasonably nice person in our vicinity, in the vain hope that while I don't have a clue, maybe this person has. That's not the secret to success in life (well, that depends on how you define "success").
I'm probably way out of line here. The book is not a philosophical treatise, it's a business guidebook (at least according to the categorization on the cover). And that's probably good, because if it was a philosophical treatise titled as i suggested above, no one in their right mind would read it. But since it makes general claims about the world and our perception of it, I read it as a philosophical book.
This entry must be tedious reading. To spare you, my fictitious reader, from more suffering right now, I will continue my review, discussing the other aspects of the book, in another blog entry. Something like a part 2.
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