After publishing Trapped Priors, I posted a link to it on HackerNews, where I received a thought-provoking comment (from user: bulatb) that perfectly encapsulates the hardest part of pursuing truth: it’s inefficient, often lonely, and rarely rewarded.
Super interesting, thank you. It’s interesting to consider how these truths affect the market, and society at whole.
If I recall correctly, according to Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, upwards of 50% of people base their beliefs off of how those beliefs make them feel. I’d have to look back at the source material to know the exact measured percentage, but it’s high.
It’s true that for many people, beliefs aren’t purely rational constructs but are deeply tied to emotions and personal experiences. This emotional foundation can create cognitive resilience—beliefs that feel "right" are harder to challenge, even with evidence. From a societal perspective, this has profound implications for how ideas spread, how markets evolve, and how group dynamics form.
Your observation also reminds me of one of my favorite essays, Paul Graham’s Keep Your Identity Small https://paulgraham.com/identity.html. I reference it often because it captures the risks of intertwining beliefs with identity. Graham argues that when beliefs become part of your identity, they are far harder to question or update because challenging the belief feels like challenging yourself. This aligns with the idea that emotionally grounded beliefs are more about maintaining a sense of self than engaging with truth. It also suggests the sorts of ideas that are probably better left alone in others, given the unlikeliness of change.
If the majority of people indeed base their beliefs on emotional resonance (as Myers-Briggs might suggest), it highlights why truth-seeking is such a costly endeavor. Challenging emotionally grounded beliefs often feels like an attack, not just on the belief but on the person’s identity. This could explain why societal and market shifts toward truth often face such resistance—even when the evidence is overwhelming.
At the same time, Graham’s essay offers a powerful insight: by keeping our identities "small"—detaching our sense of self from our beliefs—we might make it easier to adapt, grow, and engage in productive discourse. This could be a crucial step in fostering meaningful change in both individual beliefs and collective systems.
What complicates this further, though, is the role of marketing in modern society. Marketing doesn’t just sell products; it sells identities. Whether it’s aligning with a brand, a political movement, or a lifestyle, marketing thrives on expanding our identities to include external affiliations. This makes beliefs even harder to challenge because rejecting the belief can feel like rejecting an entire community or way of life. It’s another layer that makes truth-seeking more difficult—and more necessary.
Woah. I just read Paul’s essay, and before I even got to his point regarding reducing your own identity, I began examining my own by evaluating topics I struggle to be amenable to.
Being a painfully open-minded individual, my instinct immediately was that I wouldn’t find any topics. But then I realized something: perhaps my open-mindedness is, in the sense that Paul describes, a part of my identity, and that perhaps it prevents me from holding strong opinions on most (though not quite all) things. The only things I definitely hold beliefs on are those things which I’ve measured to be pure evil.
Perhaps open-mindedness is itself an identity feature that warrants avoiding. This isn’t to say that being open-minded is wrong, but rather that as a feature of one’s identity (again, using Paul’s definition), it could be overemphasized in one’s belief system.
As ironic as it may sound, particularly after reading that essay, perhaps I ought to be open-minded enough to close my mind to certain things. It would certainly make life a lot easier at times.
———
This idea of identity makes a lot of sense when reflecting on topics where I’m discussing an idea, and the individual with whom I’m speaking doesn’t seem to be able to differentiate defending the idea from defending themself. There have been several such conversations where I made great efforts to explain that the idea is floating between us, and that I wasn’t “attacking” the person (in cases where they responded as if being under attack).
The notion that open-mindedness itself can become an identity feature is worth considering. Graham’s essay acknowledges that some elements may be worthwhile to include in one’s identity, provided they serve more as guiding principles than rigid commitments. His footnote [2] about considering oneself a scientist is an excellent example: it’s less about adhering to specific beliefs (like natural selection) and more about the method—following the evidence wherever it leads.
In the same vein, being "open-minded" could fit within this framework if it functions as a placeholder rather than a rigid identity. That is, open-mindedness might not mean embracing all ideas equally but rather committing to engaging with ideas critically, fairly, and without preconceived resistance. As paradoxical as it seems, there’s value in being open-minded enough to sometimes close your mind—when the evidence or reason clearly supports doing so.
Doing so aligns with Karl Popper’s emphasis on falsifiability in science. Popper argued that a good hypothesis or belief isn’t one you stubbornly defend but one you test and challenge. If a belief withstands rigorous scrutiny and remains unfalsified, it earns a more central place in your worldview. This principle could guide what’s worth "putting in the cupboard" of your identity: ideas that are both evidence-based and open to reevaluation.
Your observation about discussions where others conflate questioning their ideas with questioning their worth is (unfortunately) spot on. When identity and belief are too intertwined, even the gentlest critique can feel like a personal attack, again highlighting the value of keeping identities "small"—to create space for ideas to be discussed on their merits rather than being shielded as personal artifacts.
A helpful tool in these conversations, as you suggest, is to explicitly frame the discussion around shared exploration rather than opposition. For example, emphasizing that "we’re testing this idea together" can make it clear that the critique is about the idea itself, not the person holding it. That said, it’s often challenging to communicate this when identity is deeply entangled.
The idea that “you can’t beat the system; you have to become it” is a compelling one, particularly in the context of truth-seeking and discourse. In many ways, adopting the role of a scientist—committing to process over position—is a way of becoming the system in a productive sense. You embody the principles of questioning, testing, and iterating, rather than railing against entrenched beliefs or practices without a clear alternative.
As for finding these discussions in the real world—this is indeed one of the challenges of our time. Online spaces like Substack (I hope to make Domo Futu one such place) and communities of thinkers offer fertile ground for exploring these ideas, but they rarely translate into "in-the-wild" conversations. Perhaps part of the solution is modeling these discussions in our own lives, fostering small pockets of thoughtful dialogue with those who are open to it.
Popper’s method of falsifiability and Graham’s "empty cupboard" analogy can serve as starting points for creating frameworks in these conversations, where the emphasis is on principles rather than positions. It might not solve the problem entirely, but it’s a way to invite others into the process of thinking rather than the defensiveness of debating.
Super interesting, thank you. It’s interesting to consider how these truths affect the market, and society at whole.
If I recall correctly, according to Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, upwards of 50% of people base their beliefs off of how those beliefs make them feel. I’d have to look back at the source material to know the exact measured percentage, but it’s high.
It’s true that for many people, beliefs aren’t purely rational constructs but are deeply tied to emotions and personal experiences. This emotional foundation can create cognitive resilience—beliefs that feel "right" are harder to challenge, even with evidence. From a societal perspective, this has profound implications for how ideas spread, how markets evolve, and how group dynamics form.
Your observation also reminds me of one of my favorite essays, Paul Graham’s Keep Your Identity Small https://paulgraham.com/identity.html. I reference it often because it captures the risks of intertwining beliefs with identity. Graham argues that when beliefs become part of your identity, they are far harder to question or update because challenging the belief feels like challenging yourself. This aligns with the idea that emotionally grounded beliefs are more about maintaining a sense of self than engaging with truth. It also suggests the sorts of ideas that are probably better left alone in others, given the unlikeliness of change.
If the majority of people indeed base their beliefs on emotional resonance (as Myers-Briggs might suggest), it highlights why truth-seeking is such a costly endeavor. Challenging emotionally grounded beliefs often feels like an attack, not just on the belief but on the person’s identity. This could explain why societal and market shifts toward truth often face such resistance—even when the evidence is overwhelming.
At the same time, Graham’s essay offers a powerful insight: by keeping our identities "small"—detaching our sense of self from our beliefs—we might make it easier to adapt, grow, and engage in productive discourse. This could be a crucial step in fostering meaningful change in both individual beliefs and collective systems.
What complicates this further, though, is the role of marketing in modern society. Marketing doesn’t just sell products; it sells identities. Whether it’s aligning with a brand, a political movement, or a lifestyle, marketing thrives on expanding our identities to include external affiliations. This makes beliefs even harder to challenge because rejecting the belief can feel like rejecting an entire community or way of life. It’s another layer that makes truth-seeking more difficult—and more necessary.
Woah. I just read Paul’s essay, and before I even got to his point regarding reducing your own identity, I began examining my own by evaluating topics I struggle to be amenable to.
Being a painfully open-minded individual, my instinct immediately was that I wouldn’t find any topics. But then I realized something: perhaps my open-mindedness is, in the sense that Paul describes, a part of my identity, and that perhaps it prevents me from holding strong opinions on most (though not quite all) things. The only things I definitely hold beliefs on are those things which I’ve measured to be pure evil.
Perhaps open-mindedness is itself an identity feature that warrants avoiding. This isn’t to say that being open-minded is wrong, but rather that as a feature of one’s identity (again, using Paul’s definition), it could be overemphasized in one’s belief system.
As ironic as it may sound, particularly after reading that essay, perhaps I ought to be open-minded enough to close my mind to certain things. It would certainly make life a lot easier at times.
———
This idea of identity makes a lot of sense when reflecting on topics where I’m discussing an idea, and the individual with whom I’m speaking doesn’t seem to be able to differentiate defending the idea from defending themself. There have been several such conversations where I made great efforts to explain that the idea is floating between us, and that I wasn’t “attacking” the person (in cases where they responded as if being under attack).
Really interesting.
This is critical discourse. It reinforces something I realized some time ago: it’s impossible to beat “the system”. Your only hope is to become it.
On a less heavy note, I love that Substack actually allows for functional external links! I’ve give that essay a read; thank you for sharing it.
I wonder where in the real world these discussions can be had. Online has its function, but I struggle to find this thinking in the wild.
The notion that open-mindedness itself can become an identity feature is worth considering. Graham’s essay acknowledges that some elements may be worthwhile to include in one’s identity, provided they serve more as guiding principles than rigid commitments. His footnote [2] about considering oneself a scientist is an excellent example: it’s less about adhering to specific beliefs (like natural selection) and more about the method—following the evidence wherever it leads.
In the same vein, being "open-minded" could fit within this framework if it functions as a placeholder rather than a rigid identity. That is, open-mindedness might not mean embracing all ideas equally but rather committing to engaging with ideas critically, fairly, and without preconceived resistance. As paradoxical as it seems, there’s value in being open-minded enough to sometimes close your mind—when the evidence or reason clearly supports doing so.
Doing so aligns with Karl Popper’s emphasis on falsifiability in science. Popper argued that a good hypothesis or belief isn’t one you stubbornly defend but one you test and challenge. If a belief withstands rigorous scrutiny and remains unfalsified, it earns a more central place in your worldview. This principle could guide what’s worth "putting in the cupboard" of your identity: ideas that are both evidence-based and open to reevaluation.
Your observation about discussions where others conflate questioning their ideas with questioning their worth is (unfortunately) spot on. When identity and belief are too intertwined, even the gentlest critique can feel like a personal attack, again highlighting the value of keeping identities "small"—to create space for ideas to be discussed on their merits rather than being shielded as personal artifacts.
A helpful tool in these conversations, as you suggest, is to explicitly frame the discussion around shared exploration rather than opposition. For example, emphasizing that "we’re testing this idea together" can make it clear that the critique is about the idea itself, not the person holding it. That said, it’s often challenging to communicate this when identity is deeply entangled.
The idea that “you can’t beat the system; you have to become it” is a compelling one, particularly in the context of truth-seeking and discourse. In many ways, adopting the role of a scientist—committing to process over position—is a way of becoming the system in a productive sense. You embody the principles of questioning, testing, and iterating, rather than railing against entrenched beliefs or practices without a clear alternative.
As for finding these discussions in the real world—this is indeed one of the challenges of our time. Online spaces like Substack (I hope to make Domo Futu one such place) and communities of thinkers offer fertile ground for exploring these ideas, but they rarely translate into "in-the-wild" conversations. Perhaps part of the solution is modeling these discussions in our own lives, fostering small pockets of thoughtful dialogue with those who are open to it.
Popper’s method of falsifiability and Graham’s "empty cupboard" analogy can serve as starting points for creating frameworks in these conversations, where the emphasis is on principles rather than positions. It might not solve the problem entirely, but it’s a way to invite others into the process of thinking rather than the defensiveness of debating.