Deal with it

Too often research findings are intriguing but muddling. How often have you heard about a new study that makes you realize what you previously thought is in fact wrong? How are we supposed to deal with being told we're wrong, or worse, possibly wrong? I say go with door number 3.

Go play this online simulation game and test out your success with decision making using 2 goats as undesirables and 1 car as desired outcome. It's called a Monty Hall problem in honor of the Let's Make a Deal host (and his use of 3 doors, behind one of which is the best prize of all).

Now read this news story which explains how in a 3-choice situation where you've already made your decision, if you are shown one of the other 2 outcomes (and it's undesirable), then you will have better odds of getting what you wanted by switching to the last available option. The more you play, the closer you get to a statistical fact: You have a 66% chance of choosing the desired outcome by switching after being shown location of one undesired outcome.

[W]hen you stick with Door 1, you’ll win only if your original choice was correct, which happens only 1 in 3 times on average. If you switch, you’ll win whenever your original choice was wrong, which happens 2 out of 3 times.

Fascinating, right? The trouble is, the above three-door situation presents something of a false choice. In reality our choices are not all equal. Maybe we chose door number 1 because 1 is our lucky number; when shown that door 2 yields a bad outcome, changing away from 1 to 3 in order to get better odds is dependent upon the depth of my feelings toward both 1 and 3. Our real-life choices tend to be based on a long (and often undefined) list of desires and assumptions. Plus, the items behind the so-called door aren't necessarily static, but evolving and dependent upon their own complex set of decisions. So maybe the Monty Hall problem is just an entertaining mindgame to challenge our assumptions. At the same time, such research still illustrates the fact that committing to one choice isn't always the best way, even after being shown that an alternate path didn't work out (just because the other guy failed does not mean you have a 50-50 chance).

Have you ever worked with someone who would not back down from their decision? Chances are you've done it yourself, too, even when you feel in your gut that it might not be the best option? Why after making decisions do we often tell ourselves, "I made the right choice. It just didn't work out this time," even when there is evidence to the contrary available? The answer: Because we want to feel good about ourselves in order to keep going each day. Plus, we aren't in the habit of looking for evidence to the contrary of our beliefs. We all just want to feel that we are OK, so we seek out or create justifications and affirmations of our decision. (Read more about the concepts of irrational escalation and cognitive dissonance.)

No big deal, right? This is fine when you're talking about the decision to buy a shirt that turned out to be really tacky (and you don't realize it till months later, after you've worn it in public countless times). But this is not fine when you're talking about bankrupting your family because you buy multiple tacky shirts and instead of adjusting your shopping habits and tastes based on inklings of a problem backed by outsiders' negative feedback, you just go out and buy more or different. There's a matter of scale.

Last year I attended a talk given by retired UCSC professor Elliott Aronson on the subject of his new book, Mistakes were made (but not by me): Why we justify foolish beliefs, bad decisions, and hurtful acts. Aronson, a social psychologist, always has amusingly thought provoking stories to share. In this case he and Carol Tavris were exploring the idea of sticking to decisions, even when faced with evidence that the decision was a bad one, and the very slippery slope of justifying behavior. While such behavior does have its tragic downside (and several chapters of this fascinating book detail the very scary consequences of ignoring counter-evidence), some amount of self-justification is a necessary and useful part of human nature.

The mind wants to protect itself from the pain of dissonance with the balm of self-justification; but the soul wants to confess. To reduce dissonance, most of us put an enormous amount of mental and physical energy into protecting ourselves and propping up our self-esteem when it sags under the realization that we have been foolish, gullible, mistaken, corrupted, or otherwise human. And yet, much of the time, all this investment of energy is surprisingly unnecessary. (pp 216-217)

I'll let you read the book yourself to find out why they argue this to be the case. In the meantime, here's the joke which opened the chapter:

A man travels many miles to consult the wisest guru in the land. When he arrives, he asks the wise man: "Oh, wise guru, what is the secret of a happy life?"
"Good judgment," says the guru.
"But oh, wise guru," says the man, "how do I achieve good judgment?"
"Bad judgment," says the guru.

The authors present some pointed political commentary and are clearly no fans of President Bush's executive management in Iraq and Afghanistan. But the fundamental lessons of Mistakes Were Made are not political at all and ought not be dismissed due to subject matter chosen for examples. (This review does a great job of pointing out the pros and cons of the book.) After all, no one is perfect. :)

Life Lesson 1

Errors are inherent in baseball, as they are in medicine, business, science, law, love, and life. In the final analysis, the test of a nation's character, and of an individual's integrity, does not depend on being error free. It depends on what we do after making the error. (p 235)

Amen to that.

Alrighty then, escalation of commitment to bad choices is obviously not a good thing, but how are we to know we're doing it? Hint: Self awareness is a good thing. Another hint: Ignoring criticism and surrounding yourself with "Yes"-people is not a good thing. Maybe I didn't need this book to teach me that, but it's a provocative read and a good tool for self examination and improvement, which I think is another good thing.

Life Lesson 2
There is no way to always get the car; you're going to end up with a few goats. Deal with it, learn from it, move on. And don't forget to tell yourself, "I am OK," because, unless you are currently under attack by that goat behind door 2, it's true.