According to social psychologists, calibrating the cognitive instruments we use to interpret the world is easy and fun. Step One: establish yourself as the definition of normal. Step Two: judge others.
When we perform Step Two, the thumb of the ego presses hard on the scales of judgment, producing what those in the field call “egocentric contrast effects.” Garden-variety contrast effects occur when we perceive something differently because we are comparing it to something else that is fresh in our minds or senses. A toaster feels very light if you have just lifted an anvil. Compared to a bag of rice cakes, the same toaster seems to weigh more.
Egocentric contrast effects occur because our judgments of others are skewed by our own characteristics and expectations. We are the anvil. We are the rice cakes. Because it is standard cognitive procedure to situate ourselves at the centre of the universe and assess others according to how like or unlike us they are, we often overestimate the extent to which other people differ from us. [1] Moreover, we are prone to seeing these differences not as blooms in the blessed garden of humanity but as—what else?—evidence of other people’s inferiority.
Suppose, for instance, that you are an extreme racist. At a garden party, you meet someone who is more racist than average but less racist than you. The likelihood is remote that you will think, “This person is really quite racist and I am even more racist. What a frothing loon I must be.” Much more probable is a reaction like: “I have many wise opinions about the supremacy of my race. My new acquaintance rejects a few of these. He must be some sort of egalitarian extremist.”
If you are Jerry Falwell, Gloria Steinem seems like Andrea Dworkin—and Andrea Dworkin is the devil in dungarees. If you are Andrea Dworkin, Gloria Steinem starts to look like Phyllis Schlafly. And so on and so on, unto a hell of baffled alienation for Jerry, Andrea, Gloria, Phyllis, you, and me (although of course you are very different from me—and by different I mean worse).
A live question about egocentric contrast effects is what we use them for. One idea is that they are merely computational aids: our brains need some yardstick by which to understand other people and, as the hippies sing, let it begin with me. Another idea is that egocentric contrast effects are driven at least in part by our unremitting thirst for affirmation. According to this account, we are in a constant struggle to feel good about ourselves, so viewing others as different from and, wherever possible, inferior to us is really the only way to travel.
Keith Beauregard and David Dunning (the latter semi-famous for his half of the Dunning-Kruger Effect) set out to test the idea that contrast effects are best understood not as a defective yardstick but as a sturdy crutch. [2] They reasoned that if people’s judgments of others had something to do with shoring up their own confidence, then people would tend to judge others more harshly after having their confidence shaken.
Enter “ego threat.” Ego threat is a bit like handcuffs. It is widely used by non-professionals but it is the privilege of a small group of experts to use it as an officially sanctioned part of their job. Ego threat is exactly as it sounds. It is when they slash your emotional tires. A common scenario: a social psychologist tells you she is going to give you an intelligence test. You complete the test. She corrects it, looks at your score, double-checks, frowns, and says, “That’s strange. We thought you’d do much better.” Now—now that your lip is trembling and your little heart has retreated to its bedroom to listen to The Cure—now is when the real experiment begins. They want to see how you will take the corners now that your tires are hissing their last.
Beauregard and Dunning devised an experiment in which they asked their subjects, undergraduates at Cornell, to assess the intelligence of a hypothetical Cornell student named Chris based on a short paragraph describing Chris’s SAT scores and his/her routine at the college. Prior to reflecting on the life and learning of Chris, some of the participants were subjected to ego threat (in the form of a vicious little test-taking operation not unlike the one describe above). Sure enough, those whose cheeks were still flushed from their failed tests were eager to diss Chris. Those whose egos had gone unmolested thought Chris was quite bright. [2]
The possible implications of all this for the world of ego and argument are stark.
1. If our self-centredness causes us to see others as more different from us than they really are, under conditions of disagreement we are probably at risk of overstating the gulf between our own positions and those of our opponents (and even to infer more than we should about what the disagreement implies about our opponents’ values, character, etc.). And our opponents, barring cognitive exceptionalism, probably run the same risk.
2. Our urge to self-stroke causes us to judge these (exaggerated) differences in ways that let us think of ourselves as better and others as worse. If this is so, and we cast others as not only much different from us but much inferior, it is little wonder that the journey from disagreement to scorn is so often rapid and effortless.
3. Beauregard and Dunning conclude that ego threat is as lighter fluid to tendencies 1 and 2. So, when we argue—and our authority, reasoning, intelligence or other forms of power and competence are being questioned—we may become even more scornful and querrulous than we would be if we could consider the substance of the disagreement from a safe emotional remove.
It’s quite a picture. Ego and Argument, still wet from its own birthing, might almost leave it at that.
But will we give up so early, fellow calves? Should we not reflect further on our predicament: a life in which we see others refracted and dimmed by the lens of our own cheating consciousness, and imagine that we see them clearly—imagine that the flaws are theirs?
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[1] Unless it casts us in a favourable light to see ourselves as similar to others. For instance, people tend to see their shortcomings as common and their positive attributes as unusual.
[2] Beauregard, Keith S. & Dunning, David (1998). Turning Up the Contrast: Self-Enhancement Motives Prompt Egocentric Contrast Effects in Social Judgments. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 74, 606-621.
[3] There are some variations on this phenomenon, notably a softening of judgment among people with low self-esteem. Popular wisdom has it that people are nasty when they feel bad about themselves; as it turns out, research suggests that people who feel good about themselves are much nastier.
[4] There is more to say about this experiment, which has some nuances glibly ignored here. There is a Part 2 to this post, forthcoming at an undisclosed date.