Being Too Quick to Judge: A Necessary Evil?

Relatively recently, I wrote a review on Goodreads of the book "The Secret Commonwealth" by Philip Pullman. I initially knocked the book a star. I thought it was a 4-star read. I had recently got into the habit of improving my snap judgments on things, under the impression that perhaps my life had been going slower than it should have thus far because of my self-perceived tendency to be indecisive. I had written reviews for Felix, the student newspaper of Imperial College London in the past, and one thing I learned was that it was almost the case that articles that were written quickly tended to be better received by the editors. After all, what was the point in attempting to condense complex ideas into something that people were reading for entertainment; or at least - if I did want to introduce those ideas, I should spread them over the length of the piece, diluting them like a very weak cup of squash, so that people's reading speed would match that of their comprehension, as would my writing speed match that of my own thinking and idea development.

However, I have realised that fast and decisive isn't always best. This realisation came when, a few weeks after reading the book, I realised that I had been mulling over a few of the ideas and characters introduced, with these things affecting my own life and thinking. I thought more deeply about some of the things that had been written and realised that I had overlooked many seemingly minor points, which were gateways to a deeper understanding of the ideas discussed in the story. I am willing to accept that this was perhaps me imposing my own interpretations on a piece of text, but I am more willing to give Philip Pullman the benefit of the doubt and accept that at least some of the things I thought about were intended.

Thus, I went back to my review and revised it from 4 stars to 5 stars. In hindsight, I realised that I had mostly not awarded the book 5 stars because it did not provide perfect gratification instantly upon finishing it. You could argue that this is the reason we have reviews in the first place: different individuals have different opinions, and literature - like any art - is open to interpretation and a far from static subject.

This idea of individuals having opinions is all well and good, but it can also take on a darker side when it materialises in the debate on freedom of speech. If you had to sum up the war going on between what tend to be older generations and younger ones, it would be described as the question of the extent of freedom of speech. Perhaps a better way to express this is - what is the meaning of freedom? One side of the debate believes that freedom of speech means that we should all be entitled to be able to say what we want, free of consequences, or some degree of that thought. The other side believes that the freedom means freedom of an individual to live a life free from hatred and judgement by others, thus speech has moulded into the more general idea of "expression", and by speaking about others we may be limiting those individuals' rights to express themselves. This idea presents itself in all the recent hot topics in the media: Brexit, mask wearing, and Zionism to name but a few. 

So who is right? Is being too quick to judge a poor trait, or one that is necessary in this world where we don't always have time to look into things too deeply? Is it the duty of an individual to spend time considering a subject to its fullest extent before opening their mouth, e.g. to express their views on another person or group?

It is clear that in certain situations, the human instinct to judge quickly is valuable and sometimes even necessary to our survival. If we see a lion in South Africa, we don't stop to consider whether this is a real danger - we make a decision and quickly. It's built into our systems, fight or flight being one form of this.

But it is also clear that there are times when our instinct to judge can harm others. If we see a beggar in the street, do we assume that they are taking drugs, lazy, or drunks just because of the way they look? The reality is that they might be, but they might also not be. But is it right for us to ignore the latter possibility? If that were the case, thousands of unfortunate people living on the streets today would not be receiving vital money, which - in some cases - might be the difference between a life of misery and one that is meaningful.

It is clear that there is no simple answer. Even when we do weigh up the possibility that our assumptions may be wrong, studies of human behaviour as detailed in the book "Thinking Fast and Slow" have demonstrated that our perceptions of probability are very often misguided.

In my opinion, the answer is that we should seek to improve ourselves and listen to others. If they tell us that we are judging too harshly, this is often a signal to sit back, take a moment, and reflect on whether our lines of thinking are based on solid evidence, or if they have been swayed through overexposure to one particular point of view, namely our own. But at the end of the day, we should not do ourselves down for being too quick to judge. Everyone makes mistakes. Indeed, the one person we should never be too quick to judge is very close to home - we should never be too judgemental of ourselves.

Cairo – More than One Wonder

Houses floating on the Nile (Awammas) – Photo courtesy Hanya El-Geresy (Insta @hanyaelgeresy)

For all Cairo’s wonders, there are none that exceed the magnificence of the pyramids. Those are truly official wonders. But that’s not the Cairo that people see on a day to day basis. There are many more wonders to be found on the streets of the city that never really sleeps.

Cairo, the capital city of Egypt, is an interesting place. It’s a place full of noise, pollution and most of all life. People bustling around dust covered streets dressed in all manner of garb – from the traditional galabiya to the most modern of outfits, it really is a land where old mixes with new. Strolling down the bank of the river Nile at night, you could be forgiven for thinking the water was perfect, sparkling with the reflections of the perpetually-on street lamps and neon lights that blare from shops, restaurants and hotels surrounding the banks. However in reality, it probably wouldn’t be that good an idea to swim in it, let alone drink it.

A swarthy old man in white robes lazes in a broken plastic chair. His eyes flash white with recognition, brilliant against the canvas of a weatherbeaten face. He calls out to us, offering us a ride in his felucca, but we turn him down. He returns to his ordinary position, the same languid expression on his face.

Cairo by day is a different world. The humidity varies from day to day, but you will almost certainly feel in need of a shower if you plan on staying more than a few hours out of the house. The dusty roads are the bane of designer footwear, whose soles and lower parts will have inevitably turned a dusty brown by the time you get back to the hopeful solace of an air-conditioned room. If one is not available, you can always pop into one of the various glass-fronted stores that line the streets; the height of modernity and with air-con to match. Those that look a little more run down will still offer at least a couple of rusty old fans in the corners of the rooms, billowing hot air down onto your head as you gaze longingly into a fridge full of cans of soft drink with familiar names.

Despite its dusty exterior, beneath this Cairo is a city of history. For a second, if you whisk away the dusty film that covers it, treasures will be revealed to you. An ancient archway signalling the spot where an Anglican cathedral once stood. Little black doors where holy men stand, adorning shoes they have taken off to pray, minarets poking their heads over the mishmash of wildly contrasting apartment blocks.

It is of course not only the buildings that make the city. No artwork is really the same without the name behind it. Most modern art could pass for high school work, were it to be viewed in a classroom. But stick a big name on it and you get a proportionally big price. Without the people factor, art is lifeless, and not worth seeing. This statement was never confirmed more strongly than by Cairo’s sprawling landscape of beauty – a post-Imperial, post-apocalyptic biodome where newer buildings have sprouted like trees in between the older, grander structures, that have turned the same colour. Among the windows and terraces, the Egyptians roam. Theirs is a lively people. Egyptians are uniquely resourceful, relaxed and jovial. Get in a taxi cab and ask for a light and the driver will whip out his lighter – that is, if he hasn’t already for his own purposes – gladly offering a few words of chitchat in addition to the flame. Smoking is not just a common occurrence – it is almost expected. No mechanic’s toolbox is complete without the mandatory pack of Marlboro. The people of Cairo will laugh with you however, and be you in need – be in no doubt that help in some form will be along very shortly. That is, if it isn’t there already. Just watch out for the token “it’s nothing” at the end, which is certainly anything but that. Rather, it’s a polite request for you to reward the man who has come selflessly to your aid with a plump 10 Egyptian pounds for his effort.

Egypt is a pot where political turmoil bubbles, however it does so deep under the streets. On the surface, life goes on in its chaotically ordinary way, cars darting in and around each other in a seeming race to get to the end of the road first, their weapon of choice against their competitors being the horn. The horn can take on various different sounds, but like a snowflake, none are the same. There are small squeaks, standard toots and even the deafening blare that would be more suited to a steam train. Then of course, there is the special case of the trucks that have replaced their horns with a small jingle, like the ones that precede tannoy announcements at the airport, but somehow yet more intrusive. Sometimes, a horn isn’t even necessary – the rag and bone man, robabikya, whose voice will be heard throughout the streets at an ungodly hour, is one especially annoying specimen.

Of course, the horn is not always used in a menacing fashion. Like a sword, as well as being used to slay your sworn enemies, it can be used to knight your most loyal friends. Occasionally, you will hear the unmistakable 5-note chant that signals the coming of a wedding procession. Like a reverse thunderstorm, a few moments later, a full symphony orchestra playing the same 5 notes will glide into view, causing great joy to those in the entourage and annoyance of a similar magnitude to those who must grudgingly trace the path behind, possibly on their way home.

No day is complete without fool – a simple bean based stew that is suprisingly filling and delicious. Taste it and you’ll understand why Egyptians eat it on almost a daily basis. It is the national dish of Egypt, alongside another called koshari, which is even more delicious. That one is a dish with a strange history, being based on foods from a variety of cultures – Indian, Italian and British, but it is now completely and unmistakably Egyptian (and don’t even attempt to tell anyone otherwise).

Don't tell me, show me

“Do not simply tell people what happens in a story - show them”. This is a major pseudo-rule in story telling. Its what turns a series of random events into a story with a plot and individual interpretation.

However, a similar pattern comes up in scientific research. We see that when we are simply told a fact, we have learnt that fact. We are able to tell somebody that ‘A Jaffa Cake is actually a cake, not a biscuit’. Great. That’s great. But what is the significance of that statement? That is the important part. The fact is just the result.

It’s like being told that an interviewer has just rejected you for a job and when you ask why, you are told: ‘Because he wrote “Declined” on your application’. You’re not really getting to the root of the problem.

Unfortunately this is what happens a lot in science: people think that they become smarter by simply learning more and more pieces of information. But that’s all they are: pieces. In the Coursera course ‘Learning how to learn’, the tutors stress the importance of placing what you have learnt in some context: linking it to something. Otherwise, it is like having a small station in your brain that can never again be reached by your train of thought because there are no railway lines to it from other stations you have already discovered. You might even begin to forget about its existence given enough time.

Therefore in science, what is really important is the background story - the set of logical deductions that lead from a simple statement (an axiom) to an often seemingly complicated scientific result, such the reason as to why resistances add in series and follow a different formula in parallel.

There is more than one way to reach the solution and having lots of different methods helps you to really internalise what you are learning and make it seem more natural.

Different paradigms through which we can view the world can often fall under discrete categories due to common patterns in each of them. For example, artists might use the visual senses to convey abstract concepts such as emotions, whereas a poet would our capacity to form mental imagery. The ultimate result is that they want to convey a particular feeling: the state of mind they were in when they splashed their thoughts down onto the page. Since not everyone’s brain is the same, we can’t simply clone and transplant relevant neurons from one person to another, since two different people’s brains (mathematicians for example) may appear to work in the same way from the outside, but inside that black box the scenario may be wildly different. Therefore when we paint, draw, write, or use mathematical language among myriad other things, we are translating our thoughts so that others can read the medium and try to recreate a similar form of the idea.

This is why different learning approaches work for different people: we try to find one which clicks with the way our brain is structured, in a similar mode to tuning an analogue radio using a dial, until we find a frequency that resonates. Before that there may be utter confusion, but at the slightest turn of that dial, everything suddenly slides into place and out of that chaos there comes clarity. This is analagous to that moment when things 'suddenly make sense'. Is there a way to consistently recreate understanding therefore? Perhaps, but I suspect not - since understanding is a very individual thing. But we can become better at recongnising the things that help us to understand, and even expand the ways in which we understand in order to learn new things. Many people simply rely on the basing new things they learn on models of subjects they were good at or loved when they were young. As they get older they get more lazy and don't want to find new ways to learn, preferring to stick to the pattern of mental streets they have already carved out for themselves.

In fact I seem to be closer to understanding what I was thinking about when I set up this strange blog. Though I may have not previously been able to put it into words. Much of this blog is about finding the little similarities across wildly different and sometimes very abstract and philosophical subjects which is very characteristic of this universe of patterns in which we live. For example, strange loops have sparked many interesting thoughts in the past especially, and I hope to find many more links between the things we observe in the future.

I hope what I said resonated with you.

Reading - A short poem

The written word – oh how it tumbles and its myriad characters rise

As if Black, Letters Like Flies rise up and Follow

The lines written on the page of sorrow

Where countless fall, die, torment, flee

As if aflame from Reality

And we, we lucky few who survive the trouble, toil and spew

That spills over into every word, chapter, verse and rhyme,

We finally sit down comfortably, sublime.

To enjoy what is left of our shattered universe,

For what we see is but the written verse.