How Open-Minded Am I Really?

5 questions we can ask to see how open-minded we really are on any given issue.

I saw an excellent comment on a recent Heal the West post that made me reflect on the topic of open-mindedness. Commenting on my post "Can We Change Their Minds?", James Tucker wrote that:

"A good mental exercise is self-honesty about willingness to change one's mind. We all have core beliefs that we are emotionally bound to, and second-order beliefs that we derive from a combination of our core beliefs and reason. I think that less of an issue than an unwillingness to change one's mind is a false openness to opposing beliefs. Most I think signal far more rationality than they are really committed to."

I think that's 100% true. I spent my 20s as a libertarian partisan, and I had a lot of "false openness to opposing beliefs." I thought I was very open-minded. And on a conscious level, I was; I read a lot of authors who disagreed with me, and if you would have asked me I would have said (and believed!) that I was reading them to discover the truth rather than just to reinforce my existing priors.

But protestations of open-mindedness aside, somehow I always ended up finishing my reading with my existing beliefs reaffirmed rather than altered. My mind was doing something on a below-conscious level. Looking back, it reminds me of this story that social psychologist Jonathan Haidt wrote in The Righteous Mind:

"On February 3, 2007, shortly before lunch, I discovered that I was a chronic liar. I was at home, writing a review article on moral psychology, when my wife, Jayne, walked by my desk. In passing, she asked me not to leave dirty dishes on the counter where she prepared our baby’s food. Her request was polite but its tone added a postscript: 'As I have asked you a hundred times before.' My mouth started moving before hers had stopped. Words came out. Those words linked themselves up to say something about the baby having woken up at the same time that our elderly dog barked to ask for a walk and I’m sorry but I just put my breakfast dishes down wherever I could. In my family, caring for a hungry baby and an incontinent dog is a surefire excuse, so I was acquitted…

"…So there I was at my desk, writing about how people automatically fabricate justifications of their gut feelings, when suddenly I realized that I had just done the same thing with my wife. I disliked being criticized, and I had felt a flash of negativity by the time Jayne had gotten to her third word ('Can you not …'). Even before I knew why she was criticizing me, I knew I disagreed with her…The instant I knew the content of the criticism ('… leave dirty dishes on the …'), my inner lawyer went to work searching for an excuse…It’s true that I had eaten breakfast, given Max his first bottle, and let Andy out for his first walk, but these events had all happened at separate times. Only when my wife criticized me did I merge them into a composite image of a harried father with too few hands, and I created this fabrication by the time she had completed her one-sentence criticism ('… counter where I make baby food?'). I then lied so quickly and convincingly that my wife and I both believed me." (emphasis mine).

Just like Haidt's, my own mind was pulling a fast one on me. The truth was that I had a strong emotional attachment to libertarianism, and I wanted to see myself as open-minded. In order to believe both of those things, my mind was hiding the emotional attachment while telling me a lie so convincing that I believed it was the truth. But the real truth was a little bit sadder: I had been a committed libertarian ideologue for years. I was signaling, to myself and others, a lot more open-mindedness than I had really committed to.

So how do we know if we're being open-minded on an issue? I think there are at least five questions that we can answer. In this post I'll be answering all five, using two examples from my own life: one where I have a strong emotional attachment (and where I don't necessarily write with the goal of convincing other people) and one where I have a weaker emotional attachment (and where I spill a lot of ink trying to advance my position, though hopefully in a civil and respectful way).

Here are the five questions.

1) How Would My Worldview and Identity Change If I Was Wrong?

I think this question gets at the heart of our emotional attachments. In I, Candidate for Governor, Upton Sinclair wrote, “It is difficult to get a man to understand something, when his salary depends on his not understanding it.” I would tweak that a little bit, into the more expansive: "It is difficult to get a man to understand something, when something important to him depends on his not understanding it."

If I ask myself how my worldview and sense of identity would change if I changed my mind on XYZ, and the honest answer is "Probably not very much," than there's a good chance that I'm pretty open-minded on this topic. If my honest answer to this question is, "The whole edifice would come crumbling down," then I'm probably more close-minded than I think I am on the matter. My mind's not going to let my worldview and identity crumble without a fight!

Here's how I answer this question concretely with regards to two of my beliefs.

Example 1: My Belief in God

My belief in God, while only a few years old, has rapidly become foundational to my worldview and my sense of identity. Psychologists talk about how all of us need to develop secure attachments, characterized by 4 Ss: we need to feel "seen" "safe" "soothed" and "secure." Because I dealt with abuse and addiction in my past, I've had a hard time developing secure attachments with people. But God provides that secure attachment: in God I find a parent who loves me unconditionally, protects me, and will not abandon me.

Here's an example of what this looks like. In the past few years, I've done some fairly daring things. I lived in Kenya and dealt with bomb threats and the occasional kidnapping scare. I walked through a hurricane. I quit my cushy corporate job and struck out as a professional writer, and some months the insecurity (what if tomorrow a client cancels their contract?) can still get to me. I think I've been able to take those risks because I have a sense that God wanted me to take those risks and would therefore protect me as I took them. I have a secure attachment to God, and that relationship gives me the firm foundation from which to stretch out and grasp at things that the world says are risky. If it was proved to me tomorrow, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that God did not exist and that the whole thing was a placebo effect, I would probably stop living so boldly. I would be terrified and very lonely.

Or to put it another way: on the matter of whether or not God exists, I have a pretty strong emotional motivation to keep believing.

Example 2: My Opposition to Critical Race Theory

I write a lot about what I see as the problems with Critical Race Theory (CRT) (for example, here and here and here). If tomorrow it was proven to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was wrong and that CRT was actually an essential tool to help us to overcome racism…some things would change about my worldview. I would love to meet luminaries like John McWhorter and Coleman Hughes and Dr. Tabia Lee and for them to like my work; and if I started to support CRT, I worry that chance might vanish. I also like being a little bit of a contrarian and I'm not thrilled at the idea of being part of the left; so I have a harder time embracing leftist ideas like CRT than I strictly speaking should.

But these are pretty small things. Mostly, if I came out in support of CRT, I would keep my friends and my peer group and everything that matters to me about my identity and worldview. My income would probably go up too; my sense is that everyone likes "I saw the light" articles, especially when the author moves from right to left on a given issue.

Or to put it another way: on the matter of whether or not CRT is a good thing, I have a present-but-weak emotional motivation to keep thinking that it's not.

2) Can I Starman My Opponents' Ideas?

Starmanning is a term coined by my friend Angel Eduardo. Essentially it's like steelmanning but one level higher. As Angel puts it: "To star-man is to not only engage with the most charitable version of your opponent’s argument, but also with the most charitable version of your opponent, by acknowledging their good intentions and your shared desires despite your disagreements." 

Or to put it another way: is it possible for someone to disagree with me on XYZ issue while being noble, intelligent, and well-informed? If I think the answer is "no" then I might not be as open-minded as I think I am.

Example 1: My Belief in God

Here my answer to the question "Can I Starman My Opponents' Ideas On This Topic?" is, "Absolutely." Owing partly to my friendship with people like Angel and partly to the tendency of Christian authors I read to criticize the Church, I have a pretty good idea why someone of intelligence and goodwill might not believe in God. If push came to shove, I could probably pass an Ideological Turing Test on the matter (that is, I think I could give such a rousing defense of atheism that an impartial observer would think I was myself an atheist).

Example 2: My Opposition to Critical Race Theory

Again, I feel pretty confident that my answer to the question "Can I Starman My Opponents' Ideas On This Topic?" is "Yes." I can point to the problems in our society (ex. continued racism) that make people think we need CRT. I can quote what I see as the good parts of the theory. I have multiple friends and family members who like Robin DiAngelo, and knowing that fact hasn't made me think any less highly of their intelligence or character.

3) If I Read A Highly-Recommended Book (Or Listen to A YouTube Series / Talk to An Expert / Etc), Does It Change My Mind Even A Little Bit?

This one needs some explanation, because some books/YouTube series/experts are just bad. If I read a book by Ann Coulter on an area where we disagree, I think I can be forgiven for not seeing the light afterwards.

But there are also lots of brilliant and ethical scholars out there who have produced content defending ideas that we disagree with. If I support XYZ, and everyone is raving about a book by a Harvard professor that demolishes arguments for XYZ, and I read the book and none of my convictions change…that's not a good sign. Of course, I don't have to be persuaded that XYZ is wrong in order to be open-minded. But the world is complex, and reality is rarely black-and-white. The truth is almost always at least a little bit in the middle. If I can read a sweeping and well-researched case about (say) the dangers of unregulated markets, and not come away thinking that markets might need a little bit of regulation in at least one small area, than that's a sign that I might be more dogmatic than I think I am.

Example 1: My Belief In God

I actually feel good on this one. I frequently change my mind, even if in small ways, as I learn more about the world and other peoples' experience of God. For instance, after I read The Big Book by Alcoholics Anonymous, I was struck by what I saw as the miraculous power of God to cure the disease of alcoholism. But as atheist friends chimed in with their thoughts, I started to see how at least some of those stories of miraculous transformation could be the product of a placebo effect generated by (for instance) the social connectedness of many Alcoholics Anonymous members.

Example 2: My Opposition to Critical Race Theory

Again, I feel good on this one. One of my friends does Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) instruction for a living. It's not quite the same as CRT, but there's a lot of overlap. And my thinking has changed substantially due to our conversations. I still stand behind my criticisms of Robin DiAngelo, for instance, but my criticisms of the field as a whole has become less strident and more nuanced as I see manifestations of this ideology that I find far less objectionable. Essentially my criticism of the field has changed from, "CRT is full of bad ideas!" to "Some prominent CRT scholars have bad ideas."

4) If Someone Asks Me For the Best Book (Or YouTube Video / Expert / Etc) On the Other Side, Do I Have Someone to Recommend?

This goes back to point #3: there are lots of brilliant and ethical scholars who write books, give talks, and produce YouTube videos that I disagree with. If I know those voices and can see the value in what they have to offer, then that's a good sign. If my answer when asked for a good book/etc that explains the arguments of the other side is, "There aren't any,"...then that's not a good sign.

Example 1: My Belief In God

I actually don't have any good books/etc on atheism to recommend (though I do have some experts I would recommend). This goes back to me not really doing Apologetics; it's not my goal to convince anyone of the existence of God, and so I haven't felt compelled to grapple with the best minds who say there is no God. That said, I'm sure those resources are out there; and if anyone is looking for a good one, I can talk to a couple of professionally-atheist friends and get you a list of reading materials.

Example 2: My Opposition to Critical Race Theory

I'm on firmer ground on this one. If you asked me for the best defense of Critical Race Theory, I'd recommend you start with Richard Delgado and Jean Stefancic's book Critical Race Theory: An Introduction. I obviously don't agree with everything they write, but they make a good case. I would also recommend Kimberlé Crenshaw's TED Talk on intersectionality. 

5) What Do My Friends Who Disagree With Me On This Topic Say About How I Approach It?

This is one of those "the proof is in the pudding" questions. It's sometimes hard for us to see ourselves accurately, but the perspectives of other people can often help us to fill in our blind spots. If we think we're open-minded but all of our interlocutors say that talking to us about XYZ is like banging their heads against a wall, then we might be less open-minded than we think. On the other hand, if we think we're close-minded but our interlocutors find us to be fair and considerate, than we might be giving ourselves too little credit.

But collecting this information is tricky because a lot of times when we ask for feedback, people will only tell us the positives. They want to be nice. So we have to ask the question the right way, to make it clear that the person will be doing us a bigger favor by being honest than by sugar-coating. When you're asking your interlocutor for their perspective, I would consider framing along the lines of, "I'm worried I might be a little bit close-minded on XYZ, and if so it's really important to me to know that so I can work on myself. You'll be doing me a huge favor by being honest. When we talk about XYZ, do I come across as open to your perspective and willing to change my mind; or do I come across as a little bit close-minded or even dogmatic?"

I actually haven't asked friends this question as it pertains to my belief in God or my opposition to Critical Race Theory. That will be my action item for this week.

So How Open-Minded Am I, Really?

After reviewing my answers to four of the above five questions, I would refer to myself as a pretty dogmatic believer in God (though less of a dogmatic Christian). This is one reason that, while I talk a lot about spirituality, I very rarely try to persuade people to adopt a certain spiritual belief. Instead, I primarily encourage people to keep walking whatever path brings them the most peace, love, joy, and connection; even if that path is atheism. I'm aware that if I tried to do more (ex. write articles about how Christianity is better than another religion) that I would be striking out blindly. My arguments wouldn't be coming from a place of deep respect and knowing about the people I was trying to help. As John Stuart Mill famously wrote, "He who knows only his own side of the case knows little of that."

On the other hand, I would refer to myself as a pretty (though not completely) open-minded critic of CRT. I have my biases, but I try to grapple with those and to see the good that CRT has to offer even as I continue to criticize what I see as its flaws.

So here's our action item as a community of practice: pick one issue that you care about, and ask yourself one or more of the above five questions as they pertain to that issue.

My action item will be to ask two of my frequent interlocutors (one for each issue) how I approach discussions of each issue in their eyes.

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Bio: Julian Adorney is a volunteer with Braver Angels, a national nonprofit dedicated to reducing toxic polarization. He is the founder of Heal the West, a substack movement.

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