Sans Fig Leaf
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"Sense of rumor"
27 July, 2006
Many years ago, at a Seattle Modem User's Group coffee klatch, someone asked me if I knew why a person, we'll call her Susan, who used to attend faithfully had missed the last several meetings. When I said I didn't know, the person began wondering if something horrible had happened to Susan. I suggested that perhaps Susan simply had been busy the last few months, or maybe she didn't have a ride, or perhaps she didn't like the restaraunts that had been chosen.
A few weeks later I was chewed out on-line by Susan for "spreading lies" about her. Except that I didn't lie and I didn't spread anything. I speculated, and I was very careful to say that I was offering possible explanations, no more.
Another time I was having a conversation with a friend about an amateur publishing project we had both been involved with. The publication had fallen behind schedule many times. Several of the people I knew who were in the project had made it clear they were no longer interested. I made a comment to the effect that perhaps the project was dying.
Some months later I received an angry letter from the editor of the project, telling me to stop spreading lies about the publication. Again, I hadn't lied, I had expressed an opinion. Or, if you prefer, drew a perfectly reasonable inference from the evidence at hand.
Some people would say the lesson to be learned from these experiences is to never speculate. Except that we speculate all the time. Speculation is a fundamental part of what we call intelligence.
If you make plans for the future, no matter how small or how far, you are speculating. We can't know for certain if we will have the time, energy, or wherewithal to follow through. We can't even be certain we will be alive. But making no plans guarantees that nothing will happen, so we plan.
When interacting with other people, even people we know real well, we do a lot of speculating (or if you prefer, inferring). From the person's tone of voice, inflection, facial expression, and body language we make guesses about their mood, their seriousness, and their intent. Is the person being serious or making a joke? Are they being sarcastic or making an observation? Are they angry or amused?
That kind of speculation is integral to social interaction. People who aren't very good at that kind of thing, whether from inexperience or a more fundament problem, have a great deal of trouble getting along with people. And being social animals, getting along is a survival trait.
Anthropologists have identified "gossip" as a survival trait. Imagine a group of primitive hominds, living on the African grasslands, where parasitic insects are always about and can affect one's health, and therefore one's survival. Grooming is important to survival, but they can't groom their own backs, because they can't see them or reach them very well. They have to have a fellow tribe member do it. "I'll scratch your back if you'll scratch mine" could be a matter of life and death.
What if a member of the tribe doesn't uphold his part of the bargain? What if he tricks one member into grooming his back, but never grooms anyone elses? If these hominids could warn each other, "Hey, Louie doesn't scratch back!" then none of them waste time grooming Louie, they only groom tribe members who reciprocate. So Louie either learns to be a team player, or he dies earlier than his non-welshing tribemates, and fewer of his genes get passed to future generations.
By the same token, the tribe members who exhange information about Louie's welshing ways, and act on that information, are more likely to pass more of their genes into later generations.
Which isn't to say that all forms of information sharing and speculation are good, simply that to a certain extend we're hardwired to do it. Under what circumstances we do it, and to what ends we do it is where our choices come in.
The problem in my first two examples wasn't really the speculating or even the sharing of the information. In both cases someone was failing to appreciate the difference between an opinion (or a guess) and a fact.
It's not always easy to recognize when something is a matter of opinion, particularly if we are directly involved in the situation. It's easy to get upset and over react.
One thing I've found useful in sorting those things out is to consider the question: Does the information jibe with other things I know from direct personal involvement? Or is the information even internally consistent? Are their simpler alternative explanations?
None of these tests are foolproof, of course. The lessons I take from these situations are to be very careful about what I say, to keep an open mind about all situations I don't witness personally, and always be prepared to laugh off any misunderstanding.
Because laughing is healthier than throwing a tantrum.
Truth is more of a stranger than fiction.
--Mark Twain
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