We think we know more than we do

We’ve all done this, right—pretended we know something that we really don’t? Or we’ve argued for a position we’re sure about, but if we’re honest we’d have to admit that we really don’t know all that much about the subject.

That word “we” is important in David Dunning’s article “We Are All Confident Idiots” (Pacific Standard, November/December 2014) because it helps us realize he’s not looking down on us. This false confidence is a human trait.

Dunning is a professor of psychology at Cornell University, and his article draws on research from various sources.

But he begins with a couple of humorous examples. Last March at the South by Southwest music festival in Austin, Texas, he writes, “the late-night talk show Jimmy Kimmel Live! sent a camera crew out into the streets to catch hipsters bluffing.” 

Since people at such festivals pride themselves on knowing the new acts, the crew played a trick on them. They asked one man about Contact Dermatitis, “Do you think he has what it takes to really make it to the big time?”

“Absolutely,” the fan said.

However, there’s no such act.

The crew asked a young woman what she knew about Tonya and the Hardings. Not getting the joke, the woman launched into an elaborate response about the fictitious band.

For more than 20 years, Dunning has researched people’s understanding of their own expertise. His research has led him to the conclusion that “to a great degree, we fail to recognize the frequency and scope of our ignorance,” he writes.

In 1999, he and a graduate student published a paper that documented how, in many areas of life, incompetent people “cannot recognize just how incompetent they are.”

What’s curious, he writes, is that rather than leaving people disoriented, perplexed or cautious, “the incompetent are often blessed with an inappropriate confidence, buoyed by something that feels like knowledge.”

We all tend to overestimate our knowledge and performance, Dunning writes, “whether it’s grammar, emotional intelligence, logical reasoning, firearm care and safety, debating or financial knowledge.”

We may like to call others idiots, but we’re all guilty of this. Dunning says one should not think of the ignorant mind as uninformed but as “misinformed.”

So how do we address this ignorance?

Traditionally we think of ignorance as lack of knowledge and appeal to more education. But education, writes Dunning, “even when done skillfully, can produce illusory confidence.”

He offers the example of driver’s education courses, which, “particularly those aimed at handling emergency maneuvers, tend to increase rather than decrease accident rates.” Training people to handle snow and ice, for example, leaves them feeling like they’re experts at it, when in fact their skills usually erode rapidly after they leave the course.

“The most difficult misconceptions to dispel,” Dunning writes, “are those that reflect sacrosanct beliefs.” This is because calling such a belief into question calls the entire self into question. This can be addressed, however, by shoring up the person’s identity elsewhere.

Studies have shown that people are more open to alternative beliefs when, for example, they’ve written an essay about an important aspect of themselves.

Knowledge of our own ignorance is hard to come by, especially when our heads are full of immense knowledge. Sometimes the best response we can give to a question is, “I don’t know.”

Not 'based on a true story'

You’re at the cinema, and a movie comes on. After the title appears, you see the words “Based on a true story.” Anymore you have to wonder what this means. 

Every year, it seems, we encounter in the media a debate about the veracity of certain dramatic film portrayal of historical events. This year is no different. 

The historical events that inspired the making of Selma are the marches from Selma to Montgomery, Ala., in 1965, led by Martin Luther King Jr. and how these helped lead to the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965. 

But with the release of the film has come much criticism of it, particularly its depiction of President Johnson (LBJ) and his differences with King.  

As Elizabeth Drew writes in the New York Review of Books (Jan. 8): “The film suggests that there was a struggle between King and Johnson over whether such a bill should be pushed following the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act, signed into law in July of that year.” She says this is “pure fiction.” 

Amy Davidson, writing in the New Yorker, disagrees. She says the film “is fair to Johnson; the portrayal is multifaceted and respectful and fully cognizant of his essential commitment to civil rights.” 

Another recent film, American Sniper, is based on the life of Navy SEAL marksman Chris Kyle. The Clint Eastwood film depicts his life in “mythical proportions, avoiding more disturbing aspects of his life,” according to Jake Coyle of the Associated Press. Meanwhile, the real Kyle boasted of killing looters after Hurricane Katrina. 

To illustrate the pressure directors may face, Kyle’s father reportedly told Eastwood before production started: “Disrespect my son and I’ll unleash hell on you.” 

Another recent film, The Imitation Game, has also come under fire. Based on the life of Alan Turing, a British mathematician, logician, cryptanalyst and pioneering computer scientist who led a team of cryptanalysts in breaking the Nazis’ Enigma code during World War II. Christian Caryl in the New York Review of Books (Dec. 19, 2014) says the film “represents a bizarre departure from the historical record.” 

There was an outcry two years ago over Kathryn Bigelow’s Zero Dark Thirty because it showed that intelligence gathered through torture helped lead to Osama bin Laden’s capture. Senators Diane Feinstein and John McCain claimed the film was “perpetuating the myth that torture is effective” and told the film’s makers they had “a social and moral obligation to get the facts right.” 

Bigelow responded, “We’re not making documentaries.  

Drew takes a different view. “No one is asking for a documentary,” she writes. However, “our history belongs to all of us, and major events shouldn’t be the playthings of moviemakers to boost their box-office earnings.” 

Ava DuVernay, who directed Selma, says the concern is not box-office earnings but the director’s artistic vision. “You can look at everything with a lens of scrutiny and miss the greater truth that the artists are trying to share,” she said in an interview. 

Even historians have to condense and simplify their telling of events. You just can’t include everything and every nuance. And directors of dramatic films are interested in a dramatic story that fits their larger vision. 

That doesn’t excuse portraying falsehood. It hurts the film’s credibility when such inaccuracies are part of it. 

Maybe that’s why eight of my top 10 films of 2014 don’t claim to be based on a “true story.”  

My top 10 films of 2014

Noticeably absent from my list are documentaries. Many good ones are still being made, but they seem to be less available. And not being near a major city limits what’s available in time for this list. Nevertheless, here are 10 good films (among many more):

1. Boyhood. Beyond its uniqueness for having been filmed over 12 years and telling the story of a boy’s life from age 6 to 18, this film confronts viewers with the poignant passage of time and how quickly our lives go by. This leads to questions about our mortality and what meaning our lives hold. It has its flaws, but it is an epic tale that feels intimate.

2. Ida. This brief, black-and-white Polish film is a masterpiece. An orphaned young woman about to take vows as a nun learns from her aunt that her Jewish parents were killed in World War II. The two embark on a journey to learn what happened and who was responsible. This beautiful film, both contemplative and shocking, treats faith and nonfaith with great respect.

3. Whiplash. This riveting film about a young jazz drummer and his emotionally abusive teacher asks, How much should one sacrifice for one’s art? But it goes beyond the creative arts. Is it good to push ourselves (or be pushed) beyond our perceived limitations in order to reach our full potential? J.K. Simmons’ performance as the teacher is outstanding.

4. Birdman, or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance). This intense film is about a washed-up actor who 20 years earlier played a superhero called Birdman and now wants to be recognized as a serious artist. Director Alejandro González Iñárritu’s satire skewers blockbusters and theater while presenting serious questions about our search for significance and recognition. The cast here is excellent.

5. The Grand Budapest Hotel. This is another zany yet moving film by Wes Anderson, who has established a unique visual and narrative style among filmmakers. Inspired by the writings of Stefan Zweig, it tells a fantastical story of a concierge who teams up with one of his employees to prove his innocence after he is framed for murder. Ralph Fiennes’ performance stands out as he deftly combines humor and pathos.

6. Calvary. This well-acted film about a priest begins with a shocking scene in a confessional. The middle is somewhat cursory, touching on various topics related to religion, but the stunning ending redeems the film, which is aptly titled.

7. Under the Skin. This science fiction thriller about an extraterrestrial (Scarlett Johansson), disguised as a human female, who drives around Scotland and tries to lure unsuspecting men into her van. This is not your standard thriller but an artistic, brilliant, stunning exploration of being marginal. This creature who preys on men to take their skin becomes, in the end, a sympathetic character. Not for everyone, this film stayed with me a long time.

8. Selma. This film tells the story of the voting rights marches in 1965 from Selma to Montgomery, Ala., in which Martin Luther King Jr. had a key role. While many have noted its historical inaccuracies, it’s a powerful drama about the efforts of courageous people to fight injustice nonviolently. David Oyelowo’s performance as King is gripping.

9. The Imitation Game. Another historical film, this one is about Alan Turing, a British mathematician, logician, cryptanalyst and pioneering computer scientist who led a team of cryptanalysts in breaking the Nazis’ Enigma code during World War II. Benedict Cumberbatch is especially good in capturing Turning’s tics and submerged emotions. The film is suspenseful and heartbreaking and opens up an era where men were put in prison for being gay.

10. The Immigrant. Set in New York in 1921, this film is a portrayal of spiritual and psychological struggle. Marion Cotillard heads an excellent cast as Ewa, who falls prey to Bruno, a pimp who forces her to become a prostitute in order to make enough money to gain her sister’s freedom from quarantine on Ellis Island. It is a powerful film about forgiveness.

Serial: a new kind of journalism

Shortly before Thanksgiving, my daughter told me about Serial, a podcast exploring a nonfiction story over multiple episodes (thus the name). It’s a spinoff of the radio program This American Life. First released last October, the episodes ran weekly for 12 weeks. The final episode was released on Dec. 18.

In early December, I went online and listened to the podcasts, and I was hooked. I understood why it ranked number one on iTunes for several weeks.

Sarah Koenig, who created and hosts the series, investigates the 1999 murder of Hae Min Lee, an 18-year-old student at Woodlawn High School in Baltimore. Lee’s ex-boyfriend, Adnan Musud Syed, was arrested and charged with first-degree murder. After a six-week trial, Syed was found guilty on Feb. 25, 2000, and given a life sentence, despite pleading his innocence.

Koenig’s journalism is not especially new. She does what other journalists do in newspaper articles or TV “newsmagazines” that explore a topic in detail in order to get at the truth.

But what makes Koenig’s reporting in Serial unique, besides the format, is her transparency. As Joyce Barnathan notes in “Why Serial Is Important for Journalism” (Columbia Journalism Review, cjr.org), Koenig shares her thoughts and views as she researches the story. She talks about her anxieties, her soul searching, as she ponders whether or not Syed is guilty.

This openness, writes Barnathan, “adds tremendous credibility to our field.” We identify with Koenig because she’s expressing what we also feel.

The podcasts move us emotionally. At times we believe, or want to believe, that Syed is innocent. At other times we wonder if he’s playing us.

Koenig not only tells a gripping story, however. She raises interesting questions that connect to our lives and help us understand how complex situations are. For example, she asks people, “Do you remember the details of a day six weeks ago?”

Serial also teaches us about how journalists or lawyers or detectives investigate a murder. And we learn about the criminal justice system, how fickle it can seem. We learn how imprecise people’s memories are, how events get interpreted in multiple ways.

When we watch a fictional murder investigation on TV, it usually is tied up neatly in an hour. In real life, it doesn’t work that way.

Koenig works hard to find people more than a decade later who were involved in the case, people who knew Syed or Lee. She also interviews experts in various fields.

Serial is more than entertaining and educational. It has uncovered evidence that the prosecution and the defense in this case failed to produce. People connected to the case have contacted Koenig and provided their perspectives.

Before the final episode aired, some criticized it for being produced if it wasn’t going to reach a clear conclusion about Syed’s innocence or guilt. But this is not a Dickens novel with a clear, melodramatic ending.

As a result of the podcast, however, there is some movement toward possibly solving the murder. The UVA Innocence Project is poised to ask a court to test an old physical evidence recovery kit that was used on Lee’s body to test for possible sexual assault in 1999 but was never tested for DNA. This could provide evidence showing Syed’s guilt or innocence, but the courts need to allow it.

 Like life, the story is ongoing. Meanwhile, journalists can draw lessons from Serial about reporting with transparency.  

Health-care disaster in Mississippi

Access to affordable health care in the United States has been a major problem for years. Perhaps nowhere has it been worse than in Mississippi. And the Affordable Care Act (ACA), often referred to as Obamacare, has not made health care more accessible or affordable in Mississippi, according to two journalists there.

Writing for Columbia Journalism Review, Trudy Lieberman praises Sarah Varney, a senior correspondent for Kaiser Health News, and  Jeffrey Hess of Mississippi Public Broadcasting, who contributed research and reporting, for a “Letter from Mississippi,” which thoroughly and poignantly details “how the poorest, sickest state got left behind by Obamacare.”

Their account, published in the November/December issue of Politico Magazine and on the Kaiser Health News website, analyzed “Obamacare’s year-long struggle for respectability and viability in the poorest state in the union,” writes Lieberman.

They asked the following question: Can a private system of health insurance and subsidies for buying coverage work in a state with very poor people who have high rates of disease, lack education, and for whom buying insurance is like learning Turkish? “Add to that an uncooperative political infrastructure,” writes Lieberman, “and the answer at this point seems to be no.”

Given that Mississippi suffers from a high incidence of diabetes, heart disease, obesity and the highest mortality rate in the nation, Obamacare barely registered there. In fact, according to one analysis Varney cites, “Mississippi would be the only state in the union where the percentage of uninsured residents has gone up, not down.”

Varney blames many factors on this failure, including “political infighting, an overwhelmed federal agency and a surprise decision from the Supreme Court.” Only about 20 percent of the state’s residents eligible for Obamacare coverage have signed up. The “most significant drag on sign-ups,” Varney writes, “was Mississippi’s decision not to expand Medicaid,” which left some 138,000 low-income residents, most of whom are black, without insurance options.

Varney also points out inequalities that are part of the ACA, such as high deductibles and other high cost-sharing requirements. A 54-year old waitress got a policy for $129, Varney writes, only to discover she first had to pay $6,350 out of pocket. She cancelled the policy.

These articles focus on Mississippi, which also has the highest rate of leg amputations in the country (for African Americans, this number is particularly “startling,” Varney writes) and a high rate of breast cancer deaths despite a low incidence rate. However, many of the problems with health care apply as well to many other states.

Lieberman makes the point that this story is not being told many places. She writes: “Several of the issues Varney details—like inequality, the loss of federal funds for safety-net hospitals, and the continuing political hostility to health insurance for the uninsured—are not unique to Mississippi and merit attention from reporters around the country.”

In my own state of Kansas, for example, where Medicaid is not being expanded, health care is not being addressed adequately.

While politicians play political football with Obamacare, health-care costs continue to rise.

One culprit (of many), according to an article in Pacific Standard (July/August) notes the overuse of CT scans, often done before doing a simple physical exam. When one patient whose problem was already identified objected to having a scan done because of the exorbitant cost, the doctor said, “Why do you care? Your insurance will cover it.”

The trouble is, too many of us don’t care. And those making the decisions seem to care even less about these costs.