The Illusion of Reason: Why We Think We Know What We Don't

How do we know what we know?...

Shattered Dreams

We humans pride ourselves on our capacity for reason. We use logic to build skyscrapers, send rockets into space, and unravel the mysteries of the universe. But what if this very tool we rely on, this faculty of reason, is often leading us astray? What if the foundation upon which we build our understanding of the world is riddled with cracks and distortions, obscured by the shadows of early learning and unconscious biases?

This isn't about questioning our intelligence or our ability to think critically. It's about recognizing the inherent limitations of reason, especially when divorced from experience and genuine understanding. It's about acknowledging the profound influence of early childhood experiences, those formative years when we first grapple with fundamental concepts like numbers, time, fairness, and even love.

Defining Key Terms

To understand how reason can sometimes lead us astray, it's helpful to define a few key terms:

• Premise: A premise is a statement or proposition that serves as a basis for an argument or conclusion. It's the starting point of a logical process.
• Conclusion: A conclusion is the final statement or judgment reached through a process of reasoning. It's what the premises are leading towards.
• Syllogism: A syllogism is a classic form of logical argument consisting of two premises and a conclusion. If both premises are true, and the syllogism is structured correctly, the conclusion must also be true.
• Logic: Logic is the system of principles governing correct or reliable inference. It's the study of how to reason validly and draw sound conclusions from given information.

A Syllogism Example

Here's a simple syllogism to illustrate these definitions:

• Premise 1: IF all cats are mammals, AND
• Premise 2: IF Mittens is a cat,
• Conclusion: THEN Mittens must be a mammal.

Breakdown of the Syllogism:

• Premise 1: This is the major premise. It's a general statement about a larger category (mammals) and a subset within that category (cats), framed as a conditional "IF" statement.
• Premise 2: This is the minor premise. It's a more specific statement that relates an individual (Mittens) to the smaller category mentioned in the major premise (cats), also framed as a conditional "IF" statement.
• Conclusion: This is the conclusion. It's the logical deduction derived from the two premises. The "THEN" clearly indicates that if both premises are true, the conclusion must also be true. It connects the individual (Mittens) to the larger category (mammals).

This example explicitly shows the conditional nature of the premises and how they necessitate the conclusion, which is the core of what a syllogism is. It also reinforces the crucial point that the truth of the conclusion depends entirely on the truth of the premises. If cats are mammals and Mittens a cat, then there is no other choice but to admit that Mittens must be a mammal.

Essentially, a syllogism is like a mini-equation of logic. But as we've explored, even if the logic is sound, the conclusion can be flawed if the premises themselves are shaky. This is where our early learning, biases, and unquestioned assumptions can creep in, distorting our reasoning and leading us to conclusions that may not reflect reality.

The Study of Knowledge: Epistemology

Now, you might be wondering, "What does all this have to do with how I learn and understand the world?" That's where epistemology comes in. It's a fancy word, but it simply means the study of knowledge itself. Think of it like this: How do we know what we know? Is it through our senses, our reason, our intuition, or some combination of all three? Epistemology explores these questions, examining the nature of knowledge, its sources, and its limits. And, as we'll see, understanding epistemology can shed light on why we sometimes cling to beliefs that aren't supported by facts or experience.

What is Four?

Let's take a seemingly simple concept like the number "four." We might think we understand it because we can count to four, identify four objects, or perform basic arithmetic. But what is four, really? Is it a noun, a name we assign to a quantity? Is it a property of an object, its "fourness"? Or is it something else entirely, something that eludes our attempts to define and categorize it?

For many of us, our understanding of "four" is rooted in early childhood experiences, long before we encountered formal mathematics. We heard the word "four" used in countless contexts, often without truly grasping its meaning. We learned to associate it with certain quantities or objects, but this understanding was often superficial, based on rote memorization rather than genuine comprehension.

My early, informal experiences with numbers, while seemingly harmless, actually laid the groundwork for later difficulties in mathematics. I learned to associate numbers with counting objects, reciting them in order, and perhaps even recognizing their written symbols. But this was all surface level. I never truly grasped the meaning of numbers, their relationships to each other, or how they operate within a system. It was like learning the names of colours without ever actually seeing them.

This rote memorization and superficial understanding created a fragile foundation. So, when I encountered more abstract mathematical concepts later on, like the number line, algebraic equations, or even fractions, I lacked the fundamental building blocks necessary to make sense of them. The symbols and procedures were there, but the underlying understanding was missing, making mathematics a constant struggle. It wasn't until much later when I had the good fortune to encounter a teacher who helped me see the true nature of numbers, that the pieces finally began to fall into place.

My early experiences with numbers were akin to learning about ingredients without truly understanding their properties. I knew that "four" was a number, just like I might know that "liver" or "sugar" are ingredients. I could even identify "four" objects, much like I could distinguish "good" liver from "bad" liver. But this surface-level knowledge was woefully inadequate. Imagine trying to bake a cake with only this kind of understanding. You might know that "flour," "liver," and "sugar" are ingredients, and that "pencils" are not. You might even be able to identify "good" liver versus "spoiled" liver. But without understanding how these ingredients interact, how they combine to create a specific texture and flavor, your cake is doomed. The best you can hope for is that it doesn't contain pencils lol.

Similarly, my superficial understanding of numbers, based on rote memorization and superficial associations, left me ill-equipped to tackle the complexities of mathematics. I could count, I could add, but I lacked the fundamental understanding of how numbers relate to each other and how they function within a system, making true mathematical comprehension impossible. Like the cake baker with only a vague notion of ingredients, I was attempting to build complex mathematical structures on a foundation of sand. Pencilless liver cake, anyone?

This early learning, while essential for our development, can also create blind spots in our understanding. We may carry these misconceptions with us into adulthood, unknowingly influencing our perceptions and decisions. We may rely on reason and logic to justify our beliefs, but these justifications are often built on shaky foundations, obscured by the shadows of early learning and unconscious biases.

The Problem of Confusing Reason with Fact

The problem is compounded by our tendency to confuse reason with fact. We construct elaborate syllogisms, starting with "if" statements that seem plausible but may not be grounded in reality. We convince ourselves that our conclusions are valid because they follow logically from our premises, but we rarely question the validity of those premises themselves.

Examples of Flawed Syllogisms

Let me illustrate this with a few examples, drawing on my own experiences and beliefs:

• The "Four" Syllogism:
  • Premise 1: IF Numbers are taught in school, AND
  • Premise 2: IF I learned about "four" in school,
  • Conclusion: THEN I understand "four" because of what I learned in school.

This syllogism, while seemingly logical, ignores the fact that our understanding of "four" is shaped by countless experiences and interactions outside the classroom, long before we ever set foot in a formal school setting. While the syllogism is true, I didn't learn about numbers in school; I absorbed them as a pre-schooler by osmosis from overheard conversations in the home. I only believed I knew what numbers were.

• The "Good Christian" Syllogism:
  • Premise 1: IF Good Christians go to church regularly, AND
  • Premise 2: IF I go to church regularly,
  • Conclusion: THEN I am a good Christian.

This syllogism reflects a common misconception that equates outward religious practices with genuine faith. As a Christian with mystical leanings, I believe that true Christianity is about a personal relationship with God, not just adherence to rituals or social expectations.

• The "Successful Life" Syllogism:
• Premise 1: IF Successful people have lots of money and possessions, AND * 
• Premise 2: IF I don't have lots of money and possessions, * 
• Conclusion: THEN I am not successful.

This syllogism highlights the pervasive influence of materialistic values in our society. It defines success solely in terms of material wealth, ignoring other important aspects like personal fulfilment, spiritual growth, and meaningful relationships. My own journey, prioritizing travel and personal connection over material wealth, challenges this narrow definition.

• The "Cynthia is a Bitch" Syllogism:
• Premise 1: IF Bitches snap at people, AND * 
• Premise 2: IF Cynthia snapped at me, * 
• Conclusion: THEN Cynthia is a bitch.

This syllogism assumes that the only reason a person snaps at another is a character defect called bitchiness and this is just not true. Maybe Cynthia was tired.

These examples, and countless others we could explore, demonstrate how syllogisms, while seemingly logical, can lead to faulty conclusions if the premises are flawed or incomplete. By recognizing this, we can become more critical of our own thinking and more open to alternative perspectives.

The Nature of "Four" and Categorization

But the question remains: what is four? It's more than just a symbol or a quantity. It's a concept inextricably linked to the act of categorization. Consider my plate of biscuits. I have four biscuits only if we agree that both chocolate biscuits and Jammie Dodgers fall under the category of "biscuit." If we restrict ourselves to only Jammie Dodgers, then I have three. And if we delve into the atomic level, I have a "gazillion gazillion" biscuit atoms. The number "four" is meaningless without defining the boundaries of the set we're counting. Where do we draw the line? What criteria do we use to determine what belongs and what doesn't? This act of categorization, of establishing boundaries, is fundamental to how we understand and use numbers. It's a reminder that even the seemingly simple act of counting is rooted in a series of conscious and unconscious decisions about how we define and categorize the world around us.

The Tautology of 2+2=4

And what about seemingly unassailable truths like "2 + 2 = 4"? Surely that's not subject to interpretation, is it? Well, even this seemingly fundamental equation is a tautology. A tautology, in logic, is a statement that is true by its very nature, a statement that is always true because it's essentially saying the same thing in different words. If we define "4" as simply being equivalent to "2 + 2" within the specific domain of integer arithmetic as we commonly understand it, then the statement "2 + 2 = 4" becomes a tautology. It's true, not because of some external, objective reality, but because we've defined it to be true within that system. 

The very words "two," "plus," "equals," and "four" are specific to English and its mathematical conventions. "Two plus two is four" is not true in French, because the constituent words themselves are not true in French. Deux plus deux font quatre is true in French but two plus two is four is not. This highlights the crucial role of language, definitions, and axioms in shaping our understanding of even the most basic mathematical "truths." It underscores the idea that our knowledge, even in seemingly objective fields like mathematics, is built upon a foundation of agreed-upon definitions and assumptions, within a specific framework. It's a truth by definition, not a truth discovered through empirical observation outside the confines of that defined system.

What, Then, is Four?

So, what is four? It's more than just a symbol or a quantity. It's a concept woven into the fabric of our understanding, shaped by our earliest experiences and imbued with layers of meaning both conscious and unconscious. It's a reminder that even the simplest things can hold profound complexity, and that true understanding requires more than just rote memorization or logical deduction.

The Importance of Self-Awareness

The journey to true understanding begins with self-awareness. It requires us to examine the foundations upon which we build our beliefs and to question the assumptions we've carried with us since childhood. It means being willing to acknowledge the limits of our own knowledge and embrace the discomfort of uncertainty.

Practical Steps Towards Understanding

What can we do to improve our understanding and avoid the pitfalls of flawed reasoning? The most crucial step is to question EVERYTHING. Cultivate a habit of inquiry, examining the origins of your beliefs and challenging even your most cherished assumptions. Make sure you have no "holy cows"—no ideas or beliefs that are beyond scrutiny. We can practice mindful observation, paying attention to our own thought processes and questioning the origins of our beliefs. We can seek diverse perspectives, engage in conversations with those who hold different views, challenge our assumptions and broaden our understanding. We can embrace lifelong learning, recognizing that knowledge is a continuous journey, not a destination. And we can connect with our intuition, that inner sense of knowing, to complement our reason and experience.

The Wisdom of Mark Twain

Mark Twain famously said, "It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that just ain't¹ so." This quote perfectly encapsulates the central theme of our exploration: the danger of clinging to beliefs that are based on flawed premises or unexamined assumptions. It's a call to humility, reminding us that our understanding of the world is always incomplete and subject to revision.

Conclusion

The illusion of reason is a powerful force, but it's not insurmountable. By cultivating self-awareness, embracing curiosity, and integrating reason with experience and intuition, we can move beyond superficial understanding and discover the true depths of knowledge and wisdom. The journey is ongoing, and the most important thing is to remain open to the possibility that what we "know for sure" might just "ain't so."

#illusionofreason #criticalthinking #epistemology #learning #knowledge #wisdom #selfawareness #questioningbeliefs #mindfulobservation #lifelonglearning