Juan Villoro
In Descartes’ error, António Damásio points out that recent brain studies reveal that our decisions do not depend on reason but emotion. Hence the title of the book. The Portuguese neuroscientist maintains that Descartes was wrong to define the human being as a “thinking thing.” The fundamental characteristic of the human being is not to think but to believe that he thinks. Consequently, the famous motto “I think; therefore I am” could be rewritten as “I feel; therefore I am.”
Does this explain why soap operas are more successful than science? The matter is not so simple. Although reason comes after passion, we don’t just act out of hunches. Also, emotional urges are not always final. The menu of human behavior includes amendment, reconsideration, doubt, and repentance. The peculiar thing is that all these faculties have lost value. How long have we not heard someone say: “Rectifying is wise”?
Social networks allow responses so fast that they respond more to neurology than to communication: in what you go from feeling to reasoning, you already gave a like. Words in a state of acceleration do not say the same as words in a state of rest.
Condemnation can be instantaneous; instead, rectification takes time. Fueled by rush, digital platforms lend themselves more to lynching than reflection.
This has contributed to a significant cultural shift. Disqualification replaces argumentation in such a way that we worry if someone says, “I’m going to think about it.” In times of express certainty, the one who ponders seems on the verge of a crisis.
Consistency is usually a virtue; however, a change of ideas is possible even in fanatical environments. Saint Paul lived his peak on the road to Damascus by embracing the faith he had previously repudiated, and Kepler dared to accept that the planets do not follow the perfect shape of a circle, as he had envisioned, but the horrendous course of an ellipse.
Borges narrated the story of Droctulft, a barbarian from the steppes who came with his army to destroy Ravenna. Before the decisive combat, the warrior toured the Italian city, and facing the wonder of its architecture, he felt diminished. He did not know what purpose that warp of arches, squares, and balustrades served, but he knew himself inferior to it. He switched sides and died in defense of the site he had planned to destroy. Borges warns that Droctulft was not a traitor but a convert.
The Enlightenment depended on a curious certainty: the other may be right. A few days ago, I spoke with Fernando Savater at an event organized by the UNAM Law School. I asked him what he most admired in the practice of law, and he answered without hesitation: “the ability to persuade.”
Few scenes from theater or cinema are as gripping as trials where the prosecutor and the defense attorney fight to convince the jury. While hearing the prosecutor, there is no doubt that the accused is guilty; then, surprisingly, the defense modifies the point of view that seemed unappealable.
Only someone refractory to human experience goes through life without modifying his ideas. We learn from those who think differently; Savater adds that few things are as relevant as “pride in being persuaded.”
Do we really keep the pleasure of being convinced? This behavior, decisive for intelligence, enjoys little popularity in our time. On social media and in contemporary politics, he who rectifies loses. The Washington Post tallied the lies told by Trump in his first year in office: 2,140 (nearly six a day). From Bolsonaro to Salvini, passing through Putin, the presidents distort the facts. But that is not the worst thing: if they reconsidered, they would weaken. Intransigence is a successful propaganda device. In a world where networks stimulate instantaneous binary responses, voters don’t want half-measures; they need strong statements: the right course.
“If you don’t like my principles, I have others,” said Groucho Marx to mock the accommodative positions. Loyalty to ideals is laudable. But correcting them in a reasoned way is too.
Anyway … I conclude this article before changing my mind.
This column was published on October 16, 2020, in Reforma.