Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Thoughts October 20th, Post-Foreign Policy Analysis Lecture

Just got out of my Foreign Policy Analysis lecture on "Goals, Rationality, and the Means/Ends Problem."

As I get deeper into the theory behind foreign policy and any international action, which involves quite a bit of psychoanalysis on the state-as if it was an individual- I realize how congruent these themes are with everyday life and relationships.

The cognitive revolution rejected simple behaviorist models and began to speculate on how thought processes shaped one's choices. The men working in this field found that humans are not rational beings and do not follow the rational model that so many theories of social science are founded upon (i.e. we expect actor A to do this and this, so we, actor B, will react with this and this).

  • Humans are simple and ignore historical context and use analogical reasoning when they shouldn't.
  • Humans are uncomfortable by dissonant information and will deny or discount inconsistent information to preserve their beliefs (we saw this within the Bush administration and his preference for intel stovepiped by Rumsfeld). People implement "defensive cognitions" to maintain what is called "cognitive consistency," the trend of people to resist change. 
  • Humans are poor estimators. Probability is not our strong suit, not when it comes to formulating the math, but rather when it comes to acting on that math. For instance, policy makers always overestimate the likelihood of war and then base their foreign policies on the possibility of war. 
  • Lastly, humans are adverse to loss and would prefer an immediate smaller gain than taking a chance on a longer term reward. 


Neuroscience has shown that many, if not most, decisions are the product of strong emotional responses, and that humans feel before we think or reason. 

Monday, October 19, 2015

Natalie Babbitt

“The first week of August hangs at the very top of the summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone. There is no thunder, no relieving rain. These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for after.”