Contrarianism

In Hackers and Painters, a book about artistic expression though technology, Paul Graham asks a simple question to test one's independence of thought: Do you have any opinions you would be reluctant to express in front of a group of your peers?

If the answer is 'no', then he suggests you take a moment to reflect on the implications, because the chances are this is not a coincidence. It's quite likely you've simply come to believe what others have told you to.

But perhaps there's a slightly more nuanced way to interrogate the matter, one that hinges on the way we think about a group of peers.

Most of us will be familiar with a phenomenon at work, at school, and wherever crowd dynamics apply. The more people are involved, the more they hold back. Over dinner with a friend, you might touch on everything from the sublime to the ridiculous to the deliciously forbidden. At a table of 20, you might spend half an hour on the weather alone. The truth shrinks as the crowd grows.

Returning to Graham's question, many of us might flatter ourselves in affirming we have all kinds of opinions we suppress for the sake of self-preservation and collective harmony. But the number of people who feel the same way is, I guarantee, much larger than we think. It's simply a matter of context, coordination, and cultivation.

Context:

It depends on how a discussion is framed. Some group discussions feel like 'cover your ass' exercises, with each participant being expected to share and defend his or her performance in front of the team. Each individual awaits their turn to speak, absorbed in the rehearsal of their own narrative and largely oblivious to what the current speaker is saying. In such a context there is almost no chance of a robust exchange.

Coordination:

It depends on how the discussion is steered. Certain questions can lead to a place of constructive tension. Questions such as: What are the potential downsides of that idea? What if the opposite were the case? What would have to be true for this idea to fail? How would an outsider see this situation? What assumptions are we making, and how might we test them? Questions like these can ventilate the room with bracing drafts of dissent.

Cultivation:

It depends on how deviations are treated. When surprising, ideally radical, claims are made, it creates a crucial conversational juncture. There could be a moment of strained silence, after which the leader or facilitator returns to more comfortable terrain. Or the contrarian can be instantly celebrated for their courage and candor. The latter is higher risk, but also higher reward.

I once read that 'superforecasters' — the 2% of experts who consistently beat the prediction odds in their realm — have one overarching attribute: they are constantly challenging the evidence and updating their assumptions to get closer to an illusive truth. They are contrarians by nature.?

I also remember that in George Orwell's famous essay on writing, “Politics and the English Language,” he concluded with six emphatic rules, such as “never use a long word where a short one will do,” and “never use the passive where you can use the active.” But his last rule was the kicker: “Break any of these rules sooner than saying anything outright barbarous.”

It's a rule that needs to be repeatedly revisited and reaffirmed. Long live the contrarians.