Principles are intellectual landmarks for orienting our actions and decisions as well as our opinions of others. Principles aren’t to be upheld at all costs; principles are provisional, to be upheld until they don’t work anymore — then broken and reformed…
In fact, what we believe are our principles may not be (or probably aren’t) the actual principles we use when we make decisions.
Organizational scholars Chris Argyris and Donald Schön addressed the difference as “espoused theory” vs “theory-in-use,” in their book Theory in Practice.
Espoused theories are used to justify action — often after the fact. We assume that our theories and principles affected our decisions but in many cases they are merely post hoc explanations (and not necessarily accurate ones either).
They found that “most people tend to be unaware of how their attitudes affect their behavior and also unaware of the negative impact of their behavior on others.” And “we cannot learn what someone’s theory-in-use is simply by asking him. We must construct his theory-in-use from observations of his behavior… like scientific hypotheses…”
Another psychologist who has gone a little further with this line of inquiry into moral and political implications is Jonathan Haidt (who I mentioned in a recent post).
In his TED talk on the difference between liberals and conservatives, Haidt asked his audience to step out of the “moral matrix” in which we all simply believe we are right, to understand the cognitive bases of our beliefs and those of others…
What got me on this topic in the first place was this Andrew Coyne presentation excerpted by the National Post today, about the ideological compromises made by Stephen Harper and Canada’s Conservative Party [which I'm inclined to extend to every politician in Canada]:
On policy after policy, the Conservatives have abandoned their convictions, they have discarded their principles, they have at times broken their promises, and even in one infamous case, violated their own law. So it’s an odd definition of compromise that suggests not just half a loaf is better than no loaf, but that no loaf is acceptable.
Until I read that I’ve tended to say I disapprove of principles — or at least the kind of self-righteous principled-ness which some people try to wield like a scepter of moral superiority.
The source of my disapproval is that principles — especially in politics — need not conform with people’s acts and decisions. We often cite our supposed principles as an excuse from actually having to think about real circumstances.
For example, I’ve previously complained about people who cite “freedom” as justification for war, without going any further than that — “We’re on the side of freedom, against evil… What more is there to discuss?” — as if the other side isn’t saying almost exactly the same thing.
Now I realize — in light of some of the things I’ve recently written and read about belief — what principles are good for.
The value of principles is not that they justify actions but that by stating our principles we start to produce an account of our theories-in-use — we start to construct a framework for understanding where our ideas and beliefs actually come from, which gives us the basis for correction and conciliation.
Argyris and Schön were right-on to compare it to the scientific method. It’s a long slow process, largely conducted through trial and error, involving a lot of short-term frustration but in the long-term the investment in discipline pays off.
And look at my own attitude towards principles as an example. Until now, I articulated myself as opposed to principles. Yet without realizing it I’ve conducted my life in a very principled way (or tried to). But having falsely articulated myself against principles wasn’t exactly bad. If I hadn’t tried to articulately commit to that position I might never have noticed how wrong I was.
Returning to politics: free-styling through crises and coming up with policies and positions on-the-fly might be more effective in the short-term but also sets the stage for future disasters.
I read recently that rats are better at running mazes than undergrads; apparently the human students think too much: the best maze-running strategy is to just give ‘er and eventually you get to the goal through trial-and-error.
And we’ve all heard people (you might be one of them) who believe that theorizing is always an inferior strategy to the more (supposedly) “practical” approach of just doing what needs to be done without thinking or talking much about it.
As we might see, politicians and executives might successfully navigate through these difficult times by the seats of their pants, and might appear more effective than the people who are thinking, talking, and writing a lot about theories and principles.
But the maze (or gauntlet?) we’re trying to run isn’t something merely given to us. We aren’t just dropped into the middle of pre-fabricated circumstances — and certainly not circumstances designed to have one correct exit or goal like the mazes made for rats (not to mention sports and other competitive activities in which people learn a lot of life-lessons).
Perhaps more importantly, many of our biggest challenges are multi-generational. In other words while the rats run many mazes in their lifetime, we need many lifetimes to navigate a single maze.
And even more importantly, our mazes are shaped by our own actions. The way this generation handles things now will affect the shape of things five, ten, fifty years from now… We don’t just find the solutions and opportunities, we make them. If the process of arriving at solutions is articulate — principled, deliberate, theorized, conversational — then we have in our hands a rough map for navigating the next set of challenges.
Maybe the best metaphor isn’t a map but a blueprint. It isn’t just about providing rough maps of everything that was tried and failed but blueprints of everything that was tried and still might fail in the future — when the architects are no longer around with their tacit knowledge and memories to retrace their steps, to point out the possible sources and solutions for problems they unintentionally created.
But if we navigate through our challenges on-the-fly, without principles or theories, then we’ll have to face the next set of challenges no better-equipped than the rats.
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