Do humans tend to see the glass as half-full or half-empty? Psychology should be able to tell us which of these tendencies is more common. In fact, different psychologist seems to tell us different things. On the one hand, we have the likes of Tali Sharot, who concludes that we have an optimism bias, ‘The belief that the future will be much better than the past and present’. Sharot claims that the evidence clearly shows that ‘On average, we expect things to turn out better than they wind up being. People hugely underestimate their chances of getting divorced, losing their job or being diagnosed with cancer; expect their children to be extraordinarily gifted; envision themselves achieving more than their peers; and overestimate their likely life span (sometimes by 20 years or more).’
At the same time, another psychologist, Roy Baumeister argues that the evidence shows ‘our brains are wired to focus on the bad’. This ‘negativity effect’ explains ‘why countries blunder into disastrous wars, why couples divorce, why people flub job interviews, how schools fail students, why football coaches stupidly punt on fourth down.’ It’s striking that Baumeister points to some of the very same life situations that Sharot does to make his completely contradictory point: divorces, jobs, children’s school achievement.
When serious, informed people believe apparently totally different things, our first suspicion should be that are both half-right, rather than one is totally wrong. This looks like an especially promising approach when it comes to optimism and pessimism because it should be obvious that both come in innumerable different forms and no individual is purely one or the other. Instead of simply asking whether people are optimists or pessimists we have to ask what they are optimistic about, when and in what ways.
Recognising this complexity means giving up the old cliches of dividing people up into those who see the glass as half-full or half-empty. It depends on what kind of glass it is, what’s in it, when you see it, and how full you think it should be in the first place. To stretch metaphors to breaking point – which in this case of this tired cliché looks like the most constructive strategy – that glass with just a little single malt whiskey in it is more than full enough at the end of a sociable evening and far too full at breakfast.
Aside from the factual question of how optimistic our not people are, there is also the normative question of how pessimistic we should be. There is obviously no single answer to this. Pessimism about our capacity to limit global warming to no more than 1.5ºC is more rationally justified than the belief that we won’t even survive as a species. Optimism about being alive tomorrow is reasonable; believing you’ll be around to see in the 22nd century much less so.
As is so often the case, Aristotle has bequeathed us the most helpful way of thinking about how to get this right. His doctrine of the mean would put excessive optimism and pessimism at opposite ends of spectrum, as two ways of going wrong. What we are looking for is the mean: a point between these extremes where the wise person would find themselves. This is not necessarily the hallway point and where it is will depend on circumstances. To modify one of Aristotle’s most famous quotes, ‘Anybody can be pessimistic – that is easy, but to be pessimistic about the right things, to the right degree, at the right time, for the right purpose, and in the right way – that is not within everybody’s power and is not easy.’
That’s why I’m starting my Pessimism Project. I want to get beyond the simple optimism/pessimism binary and tease out many of the complications. At the same time, I want to test my hypothesis that optimism is overrated, which if you think about it is exactly what you’d expect it to be. I think we do have one kind of optimism bias: the tendency to see optimism as being better than it is and for ‘negative’ thinking of any kind to be bad. The language we have at our disposal reinforces this bias: being positive about the negative sounds like a contradiction.
Although this project is going to require more fine-grained distinctions, our starting point can and should be the common-or-garden definitions of the two key concepts. My computer’s dictionary describes an optimist as ‘a person who tends to be hopeful and confident about the future or the success of something’ and a pessimist as ‘a person who tends to see the worst aspect of things or believe that the worst will happen.’ ‘Tends to be’ is exactly right: replace it with ‘is always’ and you get the definitions of a deluded naif and a depressive respectively.
My hypothesis is that although the Aristotelian mean varies according to context, on average we are wiser to err towards the pessimistic than the optimistic. I say ‘hypothesis’ because I’m genuinely not sure this is right. In fact, I’d like to be proved wrong, which makes the question of whether the conjecture itself is pessimistic complicated.
As a bit of fun – since it is of dubious empirical merit – I’m going to see whether pessimism pays – literally. I’m going to place bets on things that I don’t want to happen. This is a win-win ploy: if I lose the bet, it’s because things have turned out how I want them, while if they don’t, I’m quids in. I’m also going to record my own expectations of what is to come and see whether I turn out to be too bleak in my predictions.
I’ll be writing about the Pessimism progress in selected Microphilosophy newsletters. But there will also be more frequent updates exclusively for supporters.
I’d also like to hear from you. What do you think the discourses around optimism and pessimism miss or get wrong? Do you have any stories of when one or other has served you well or badly? What questions do you want answered about them? What research have you heard about that would be useful?
The first of undoubtedly many ironies about the Pessimism Project is that to start it requires the belief that I will have enough time to see it through. Loyal subscribers will know that I have not even managed to get my newsletter out every two weeks, which was itself a scale-back of the initial ambition to be weekly.
So let’s make this official: my hope for the Pessimism project is that it will complete at the end of 2023; my expectation is that it will roll over into 2024 or beyond. I think that’s neither optimism nor pessimism but realism. However, don’t we all think that we’re realists and that only other people are too gloomy or cheerful? Another question for later in the project.
News
The publication of my latest book, How to Think Like a Philosopher is coming round quickly. But don’t order it yet! I’m trying to sort out a pre-order offer which will give you a signed copy, with a personal dedication on request, free postage and (drum roll) a free fridge magnet! I hope to be able to open this up next time. When any given book published in the UK sells on average around 250 copies, I can’t afford to be modest in promoting mine, so forgive men if I share this endorsement from Derren Brown (who I’ve never met): “A complete treat: a big breath of fresh air and a bracing detox for our beleaguered, battered brains.”
I’m hosting a Bristol Ideas event around the book’s themes at St George’s Bristol on Wednesday 22 February. I’ll be joined by two others TBC to discuss the keys to better thinking. It’ll be a relaxed “salon” format”, with 45 minutes of discussion with the panel, a short break to get a drink, and 45-minutes of discussion led by audience questions. Tickets should be going live any time soon.
I’ve got a couple of long pieces waiting to be published which I’ll provide links to next time. I’ll also be posting links from my Twitter account. Although after my now traditional seasonal social media break I find myself unenthusiastic about resuming. My enthusiasm for tweeting seems to be resuming. One of my few tweets so far was a response to news that Wittgenstein was trending, prompting me to adapt one of his most famous lines to “That thereof we can tweet, we should usually be silent.”
That’s it for now. You can sign up below to receive these Microphilosophy newsletters direct to your inbox.
Until next time, if nothing prevents, thanks for your interest.