The Importance of Slow-Thinking

Back in 2014, a group of neuroscientists from MIT published a report on the minimum length of time required for the human mind to process information from an image: 13 milliseconds, almost an order of magnitude faster than previously believed. How fast is 13 milliseconds? A blink of an eye takes about 100 milliseconds; a standard camera shutter motion takes about 125 milliseconds; the flap of a hummingbird wing takes about 80 milliseconds. So, 13 milliseconds is pretty fast.

As a culture we are somewhat obsessed with the speed of thinking and information processing: trivia games measure one’s ability to recall information quickly; speed is still valued in primary school arithmetic and spelling drills; and in the world of business we talk about innovation being driven by “clock speed,” the ability to process information and make decisions faster than competitors.

Yet psychologists have also studied the weaknesses in making fast judgments or quick conclusions. The pioneering work by Amos Tversky and Daniel Kahneman, later summarized in Kahneman’s best-selling book “Thinking Fast and Slow,” demonstrated that the human mind makes quick judgments by relying on heuristics that lead to cognitive biases; and as a result we reach conclusions that are deeply flawed. We make snap assessments of probability that defy logical, reasonable conclusions from statistics, and we let bias and stereotype — especially those arising from the cultural context in which we are embedded — to frame and shape our instantaneous judgments. 

There are certainly moments when fast-thinking systems of our brains serve us well: Our movement (whether walking, driving a car or riding a bicycle), our ability to speak, and our ability to take direction from written signs or instructions are all generally governed by subconscious near-instantaneous decision-making that is sharpened and refined by a great deal of practice and repetition. These systems are responsible not just for our survival, but more profoundly for at least part of what it means to be human.

Yet we witness many examples where our fast-thinking leads us astray, and where our collective dependence on flawed instantaneous judgment results in individual and social harm, where action directed by heuristics and bias leads to the perpetuation of stereotype and the reification of injustice. We are all burdened by our immersion in a culture that has been shaped by legacies of deeply entrenched bias; where heuristics used to make fast decisions have been shaped by the very real phenomena of racism, sexism and other systemic ills. Fast-thinking underlies the snap judgment that a Black teenager ringing the doorbell is a potential threat worthy of a call to the police, and not a young person looking for help. 

Indeed, while fast-thinking is often associated with the quick action needed for survival, recent experience demonstrates the exact opposite — fast-thinking can undermine our ability to cope effectively with crisis. The year 2020 has shown that we live in a context governed by volatility, uncertainty, ambiguity and complexity. Circumstances change quickly and unexpectedly; the future is clouded by uncertainty; solutions to problems are often ambiguous, and involve integration of complex, multidisciplinary concepts. Fast-thinking breaks down under these circumstances. When we have not experienced life in a pandemic, we cannot rely on our fast-thinking — actions based on heuristic analysis of cues around us — to guide our behavior or our survival.

Survival in this context depends on our slow-thinking: the ability to go deeper than the 13-millisecond observation when processing information, to expand beyond the immediate heuristic into more complex problem-solving analysis, to expand your cultural context to include voices and perspectives beyond your own experience. Fast-thinking may help make us human, but slow-thinking completes our humanity.

Hearing is fast — even hearing to extract information is fast — but listening is slow.

Reaction with emotion is fast, but reaction with empathy — understanding of the experiences of others — is slow. 

Slow-thinking is typically not just learning. Slow-thinking often begins with unlearning. Looking at the world in a different way — taking in new perspectives, working to resolve contradictory information, just taking time to process our thoughts and take measure of the act of thinking itself — all of these allow us to reshape the brain physically, to dismantle neurological connections and build new ones. Learning alone is not enough; we must complement learning with unlearning and relearning.

In many ways, circumstances of the year 2020 have naturally pushed us toward slower thinking. Quarantine and physical distancing have disrupted our normal ways of life. The deaths of Black men and women, painfully captured on video and replayed on social media, have laid bare the systemic injustices that are ingrained in our society. And anxiety induced by the pandemic, economic dislocation, and the social upheaval, as well as the trauma of loss of friends and family, have taken a physical toll on our brains and bodies. We have a great deal of unlearning to do: unlearning patterns of our own daily activity, unlearning social inscribed systemic injustice, unlearning the impact of trauma. The difficulty of unlearning is not to be understated, but discomfort and unease should be embraced as a sign of the regenerative nature of slow-thinking, and not interpreted as a personal failing. There is no better time to begin this work than now. 

Sean Decatur is the 19th president of Kenyon College. Follow his writing here and on Kenyon's website.