Sailing the sea of thought
The original idea of critical thinking, both as I learned it and as I later came to understand it, was to question everything, identify unquestioned assumptions, gain a balanced understanding of the options available, and carefully consider ideas that might have initially evaded or challenged us.
In literature and art, it means asking questions about who the good and bad actually are, and what is beautiful (and in both cases considering the opposite of what you first thought); in life it asks which ideas are good and bad – but only after examining the positives and negatives of each.
Confusion: The first part of this process leads to turmoil, as the student goes from a clear but one-sided idea of “good” and “bad” to a seemingly unstable and ever-shifting sea of possibilities. The boat has left the safety of the port and is suddenly at the mercy of the sea.
Orientation: However, the next step is to learn the tools for evaluating ideas and their consequences, and to eventually work out a well-thought out conclusion that was not possible or visible in the beginning. The boat now has a sail, a location on a map, a compass, and can set a course.
Decision: The best (and sometimes scariest) part was the end of the process, because after all that chaos and contemplation, there wasn’t necessarily a correct course to set: this was simply left up to the individual. So, you could play it safe and move along well-travelled routes, or explore the high seas to your heart’s content.
Today, critical thinking is in a storm which would have everyone give up sailing altogether because of the dangers it presents to the inexperienced, and the boats of our mind are in danger of being permanently moored. What’s worse, those who still dare to sail are called out as reckless for providing a bad example of potentially unsafe behaviour, or for sailing in the “wrong direction”.
What if?
Critical thinking should not be immune to its own process, so perhaps it is logical and justified that we took a “meta” step back (or up), and asked, “What if critical thinking is not the best way?” and “What if the very process of critical thinking causes damage?”
Instead of being debated, in some circles this conclusion seems to have already been accepted, and is being pushed forward quite aggressively. Now, instead of “critical thinking” we seem to be learning a very formulaic (and strikingly shallow) “criticism of certain thoughts” along with the idea that questioning certain things is inherently bad, or even morally wrong.
Many of the arguments begin with “What if?” and strike me as self-destructive and very pessimistic.
“What if allowing an idea to be questioned makes it appear weaker?” This assumes that an idea is like a complicated machine, and that an examination is like carelessly throwing a wrench in the works to see what happens.
For the first example, I feel that a proper examination is more like having a skilled mechanic or technician with expert knowledge tune up or modify a machine so that it runs more smoothly. Otherwise you run it into the ground, or just use “Version 1.0” forever. Luckily, we don’t do this for airplanes or computers.
“What if when you question an idea, you give critics ammunition?” This is like worrying that if we change the oil on our machine, people might think that it must be defective for needing oil, even though everyone can see that it performs better afterwards.
For the second example, if a popular and now “sacred” idea is good, then questioning it allows us to see and be convinced of its merit, but more importantly, instead of giving the less-informed ammunition to attack it, it gives average people the proper ammunition to defend and maintain it.
Naturally, and following the “rules” of critical thinking, I can say that my two counter-arguments are based on at least two assumptions: (1) all things can be improved, and (2) average people with good information usually come to good conclusions.
If you start with the opposite assumptions, we have little room for debate, as you live in a different world: you must destroy things that do not work at 100% efficiency (because you can’t improve them); you must destroy anyone who questions an “important” idea (because an idea can’t be improved, and questioning is only a form of attack); and, you must destroy any discussion of important ideas (because too many people will come to the wrong conclusion if discussion is allowed).
Playing along with the rules, not playing with the rules
Every game has rules, and it might not be wrong to think of critical thinking and the discussions that follow in the same way. However, for a game to be fair, the same rules must apply to both players: if you say that questioning certain things is bad, I should be able to reply that not questioning certain things could be worse; if your “move” is to attack my assumption about the intelligence and moral compass of the average person, I can question your assumption that the opposite is objectively true.
Tampering with the rules means that they only apply to one player. I can hit the ball, but you can’t hit it back. I can say that your way of thinking leads to suffering in the world, but you can’t question any of the assumptions that led me to that conclusion. Not a very attractive game.
If, however, if this is not a game, and we are on a journey together that could lead us either to the promised land, or off the edge of the world, then critical thinking as it was originally understood is even more “critical”. Sailing for adventure with reckless abandon is one thing, but travelling with the precious cargo of our civilisation is another.
Even if a ship is sound, the navigation tools are in perfect condition, and the course has been set without error on the first try, no ship reaches its destination without many minor corrections – and one need not be reminded that today we are by no means sailing in perfect weather.
Final thoughts
To me, critical thinking always lacked a sense of urgency. In the classroom, after feeling accomplished for having stretched our brains, we often did not see a direct connection between what we were learning and our world outside the classroom. As important as we tried to feel, it was still more of a game. But perhaps the time has come for it to be taken more seriously.
If we are travelling in uncharted waters, many things become critical: provisions for lengthy periods without fresh supplies, ship maintenance for inevitable damage and storms, and a constant and careful watch on our course. When something goes wrong, we also need the ability to react calmly, and not overcorrect, or we can double our problems.
“What if?” arguments can give examples of extreme circumstances where well-intentioned critical thinking leads to unnecessary suffering, but when we hear such arguments, we must be wary. What is called for is not a justification and defence of the extreme one-in-a-million possibility, but to ask the same kinds of questions right back – and again, not to be combative, but for the good of everyone. Do those who speak in favour of powerful ideological concepts truly know what it looks like when their side goes too far? Do they even recognise that as a possibility? Do I give my own thoughts the same rigorous analysis? If so, we can talk.
Changes are necessary, and we may be moving in the right direction. However, if we are moving blindly, we simply will not get to where we want to go. All ideas, especially revolutionary ideas that call for massive change, must be questioned, and romantically assuming that a course is infallible (or letting a revolutionary idea become so holy that questioning it is tantamount to blasphemy) is literally sailing blindly, and just hoping the wind and weather will take us where we set out to go.
And getting to the best places is never that simple.
Blood On My Hands 