Failures of Collective Opinions

“Nothing bound us to the firm but what had enticed many of us to apply: money and a strange belief that no other jobs in the world were worth doing…By coming to Saloman Brothers, we were doing only what every sane, money-hungry person would do.  If we were unable to buck convention in our lives, would we be able to buck convention in the market?  After all, the job market is a market.”

            The quote, written by Michael Lewis, in “Liar’s Poker,” illustrates a common flaw amongst human beings, especially those endowed with the socioeconomic resources to reach society’s upper-echelon most efficiently.  There are certain preordained paths, scripted sequences through the world that many of our most professionally mobile citizens follow blindly.  Indeed, they are the professional equivalent of sheep at best, and lemmings at worst.  I can recall my days in college, as virtually every classmate aspired to law, medicine, consulting, high finance, or some altruistic pursuit before returning to one of those four occupations or a marriage to one of their members.

            I suppose, on the surface, such a trend is not disturbing.  After all, civilization demands all of these professions, albeit in potentially lower numbers.  However, consider the great thoughts, era-defining inventions, and paradigm-shifting philosophies.  Each stemmed from an individual utterly disinterested in the prevailing sentiments of the age hell-bent on charting their own course.  In fact, “groupthink,” the phenomenon in which clusters of the like-minded congregate and mutually reinforce their own ideas until the very notion of the existence of any alternative becomes foreign, led to the subprime collapse.  Mass agreement with minimal dissent is a recipe for mediocrity at best and stagnation at worst.  Of course, assurance that a deviant path is the correct one is a cognitive process shared by innovators, entrepreneurs, and horrifically brutal dictatorships. 

            Bucking convention is a frightening proposition, if only because failure is accompanied by the question, “what if I had just done what everyone else was doing?”  Much like a coach who punts on 4^th and 1, knowing that a subsequent defeat will be blamed on his players, but a loss following a deviant play-call will be assigned to the coach himself, there is a great deal of comfort and defensibility in simply riding with the herd.  Conversely, there is very little glory in so doing.

            Perhaps, as a species, we are simply risk-averse in a manner which is truly disadvantageous.  This seems odd in that our global exploration requires an intrepid spirit inconsistent with risk-aversion.  Our greatest figures are almost without exception, exceedingly willing to put great amounts of emotional, monetary, and physical in play for their cause.  Though “greatness,” despite its nebulous definition seems to demand a daring nature, survival may not.  Evolution would seem to favor those willing to maximize the odds of sending their genetic material onward – and that would seem consistent with significant reluctance to take risks.  Yet, as a species as a whole, risk-taking by a substantial segment seems to generate massive gains…though the risk taker often suffers on an individual level.  Perhaps what is ingrained by evolution for individuals is counter-productive for the collective accomplishment of the species?

Just another reason to deviate…

What certainly is, certainly is not?

            “Reality” is an odd term.  I recall my freshman year of college, where as a precocious, bordering on pretentious lad, I wrote a paper in which I argued that any notion of “reality” was inherently subjective, as any observer is decidedly imperfect.  Without even introducing such esoteric concepts as Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, which states that observers alter that which they are observing simply by observing it (try saying that three times quickly), this argument is rather simple.  Human beings can only see a very limited range of the electromagnetic spectrum (visible light), only hear very limited frequencies of sound waves, and only perceive those particles which are composed of the same matter as our bodies.  So we cannot see infrared light, nor hear the high-pitched noises of bats, nor feel the neutrinos which pass through our bodies daily without incident.  So what?  Furthermore, we cannot construct a machine which perceives every wavelength of light, nor every frequency of sound, nor every particulate which comprises our universe.  Again, so what?

            The fact is, that which we assume to be “true” or “real” is often, simply, not.  For 1500 years, Aristotle’s view of physical reality was the truth…except for fact that in “reality,” it was false.  Newton’s ideas supplanted Aristotle’s for several hundred years.  Newton was a brilliant scholar whose notions of mechanics define high school physics.  Thing is, he’s wrong too.  Einstein did away with Newton’s supremacy, and in turn, Einstein’s notions were altered, augmented, or debunked outright.  The fact is, “truth” is an ephemeral concept.  Today’s textbooks are tomorrow’s kindling, replaced with newer and greater wisdom.  Once again, so what?  As a society, we are enthralled by fantasy, science fiction, impressionistic artwork, and countless other genres whose objectives are, among other things, attempts to portray the world as something other than what it truly is…ah, but there’s the rub.  I contend that the “real” world is not what the “real” world is!  Whether it is special relativity’s insistence that the inexorable flow of time is, in fact, a matter of relative velocity or plastic surgeons’ insistence that Pamela Anderson’s breasts are truly the size of watermelons, what is “true” is frequently also false. 

            There seem to be two fully legitimate ways of handling this revelation.  One is to utterly insist that that which is, is, and that is that.  Not only does that sentence trouble me grammatically, it sounds freakishly like the rants of the stubborn, the incurious, and the incurably old-fashioned.   The alternative is to realize that neither I, nor you, nor anyone else you or I are likely to encounter has any objective notion of “reality” or “truth.”  I would embrace this one wholeheartedly, were it not for the fact that my entire life…or at least the part after potty training, has been spent pursuing and communicating knowledge.  So…if all that is known is suspect, and temporal, what the hell am I doing?  Seriously…anyone have a good answer for me? 

            I’ll try my best:  As human beings, we continue to refine and perfect that which will be forever imperfect.  We add to a body of knowledge that is necessarily, and unavoidably incomplete.  After all, our lives are finite blips in a seemingly infinite expanse.  So we study and learn what we are able.  Can’t really complain.

The Unarguable Argument

            Certain statements are always true, but viciously difficult to prove.  Consider: a^x + b^x ≠ c^x where a, b, and c are positive integers, and x is an integer > 2.  That statement is factual, and yet to prove it as such took 358 years and a suite of mathematical techniques developed over the centuries in-between.  Worse, unless you happen to possess a Ph.D. in mathematics with a specialization in certain branches of number theory, it is likely that the proof would be thoroughly indecipherable.  So what?  I cannot imagine very many people for whom their professional, monetary, or political objectives would be undone by the verification of the truth of this statement, and thus, who would spend the time, effort and vocal energy to dispute the claim?  Yet, it is worth noting that though the statement is true, and can be proven to be true, to truly “accept” the proof, a substantial, if not impenetrable threshold of knowledge is required.

            Unfortunately, all too many arguments in this world take a similar structure, in cases where one party stands to benefit from their inability to grasp the proof.   Consider certain widely accepted scientific realities such as the earth’s spherical shape, its orbit about the sun, its age, evolution, the link between HIV and AIDS, climate change, that on-base-percentage is more relevant to wins and losses in baseball than batting average, runs, and RBIs, and even the famous Monty Hall problem from “Let’s Make a Deal.”  However, in each case, specific prerequisite knowledge is required in order to comprehend the reasoning which confirms the truth of each item in the list. 

            Hypothetically, (as of course, such a scenario would never truly occur…wink-wink, nudge-nudge) a given person’s career might be threatened by establishing, once-and-for-all, the veracity of one of those items.  Consider the plight of Galileo and Copernicus, two heliocentrists whose sound scientific studies demonstrated beyond argument that the earth orbits the sun, that our supposition of residing at the center of the cosmos was simply false.   Their detractors in the holy roman church lacked the prerequisite knowledge to grasp the merits of the “proof” offered their way, lacked the interest to gain that prerequisite knowledge, and much worse, risked a loss of theological relevance should the proof be accepted.  Though the body of scientific knowledge grew and widespread acceptance occurred as the years past, the works of Galileo and Copernicus remained on the list of forbidden books for over 200 years until 1835 and church issued its first formal apology in 2000.  This should not be surprising, though of course, for those of us who value science as a means to answer the questions posed by our world, it is dreadfully depressing.

            Even today, this same stonewalling display of strategic ignorance is deployed with respect to professional sports and the use of statistics.  The same voices that assert its irrelevance lack any of the training necessary to assess its merits!  This is again, a reality, especially in a world in which the “new idea” often renders the most recognizable voices of the old idea obsolete, transforming respected figures into the doddering old fools of yesteryear.  The old guard will maintain their positions long after the overwhelming majority has abandoned them.  Such is the way of the world.

            The purpose of this essay is not to advocate for any of the truths presented in my incomplete list of things that are generally accepted as fact.  An unpleasant and unavoidable byproduct of the human experience is the inevitability of an altercation with someone somewhere who disputes one of these indisputable truths.  Invariably, they will lack all necessary sophistication to discuss the issue on terms that might illuminate and remedy their ignorance, and yet, will insist that their knowledge base is more than adequate, and that anyone who disagrees has simply been hoodwinked or misinformed.  Billy Joel said it best, “you should never argue with a crazy mind…you oughtta know by now…”  Save your breath, your logic, your sense of decorum, and most importantly, your sanity.  Smile politely, head in the opposite direction with all deliberate speed, and avoid the incessant urge to locate the nearest blunt object and wield it maliciously…

The Cruelest Sport

            Each sport presents its own array of challenges, both athletic and cerebral ranging from precision hand-eye coordination to cardiovascular endurance.  To argue one is inherently more difficult that another from a physical or mental standpoint is an act of hubris, and worse, a point shrouded in tremendous subjectivity.  Nonetheless, in terms of its capacity for unimaginable cruelty to the participant, one stands alone.  The most frightening activities, in sports as well as life, require decisions of great consequence, made quickly, decisively, and most importantly, unilaterally.  Athletes, in the heat of competition, make countless decisions which impact the outcome of sporting events.  However, within the context of those activities are numerous conversations with teammates, coaches, and caddies, allowing for not only clarification and discussion, but for the simple emotional salve that is a friendly voice.  One sport, despite its patrician roots, isolates its participants, and leaves them to stew in the horrors of their own mind for hours on end.

            Tennis players are rather average looking physical specimens as professional athletes are concerned.  Its most decorated champion, Roger Federer, stands 6’1’’ and weighs around 185 pounds.  Were he not famous, his body would be no more noteworthy than any other fit male of similar age.  Certainly, he is phenomenally fit, coordinated in a manner us mere mortals cannot fathom, and blessed with a natural kinesthetic grace that John McEnroe likened to Baryshnikov.  Tennis virtuosos lack the sheer muscle mass of football players, the striking length of basketball players, the blazing speed of track stars, or even the pain tolerance of boxers and mixed martial artists.  Still, they face one obstacle unlike any of their colleagues.  

            A tennis court, specifically the one located at the center of Arthur Ashe Stadium in Queens, is a form of public solitary confinement.  Hour after hour, a competitor may hear the roar of the crowd, may see the faces of family and friends, may even discern encouraging words, but still acts wholly alone.  Every strategic indiscretion, every miniscule mistiming of a groundstroke, every flawed footstep occurs without the wisdom of an engaged observer who can correct it.  Coaching is not allowed, and for those hours, one succeeds or fails predicated solely upon their ability to react, adapt, and control their own psyche.  Perhaps more than in any other sport (though this phenomenon is certainly visible in golf), an athlete’s mental frailties are illuminated like the Christmas tree in Rockefeller center.  When the strands of sanity begin to fray and unwind, no one can cool the seething ebullitions of emotion within and certainly, no one can offer that token of sage advice.  Is it an accident that tennis’s most noteworthy champions are often characterized by one of two personality types?

            The first is the unflappable, placid, almost robotic absence of emotion, methodically delivering upon their athletic gifts until the task is done.  Think of Sampras, Federer, and Borg.  The second is the inwardly directed fury that embraces the crucible of the court and combats it with fireworks visible to all.  Think of McEnroe, Nadal, or Connors.  Every booming, self-motivating “come on!” ensures that the heightening of emotions occurs on their terms and no one else’s.  In either case, composure becomes as relevant as competency, temerity as necessary as talent.   Roger Federer has been blessed with an almost inhuman quantity of the “talent.”  David Foster Wallace, a man whose linguistic artillery compares with my own much as an anti-aircraft bazooka compares with a flyswatter, described watching Roger Federer in reverential terms.  To steal one quote from this treasure of sports-writing feels like eating but one bite of a meal at the finest restaurant in Paris, and yet, “…Roger Federer is one of those rare, preternatural athletes who appear to be exempt, at least in part, from certain physical laws.”  Indeed, from the “great liquid whip” of his forehand, to the “eel-like all body snap” of his serve, he handles a racquet as Hendrix handled a guitar or Monet handled a brush.  It is art as much as sport.  But tennis is cruel…Federer will never reclaim his throne even as beautiful angles and elegant spins remind us all of what once was.  Perhaps as a side effect of his prodigious talents, he has learned only to emerge victorious simply from greater skill and not from superior fortitude.  Now, as the inevitabilities of age sap his physically unmatched strokes, he is forced to rely upon a tenacity he never was required to develop.  Some may contend that this deficiency detracts from his status as a champion.  I cannot argue.  However, one is reminded that the presence of such a deficiency speaks volumes of the transcendent, scintillating aptitude that he placed on display for the preceding years.