Let’s consider ignorance. Nothing pejorative. Just literally not knowing. We can use recent news examples.
When Yevgeny Prigozhin was marching on Moscow and seemingly threatening civil war, Vladimir Putin’s removal, and the breakup of Russia, on Facebook folks were letting their hopes and dreams replace reality, predicting a civil inpouring of democracy, and everyone living happily ever after. My response was, “Everybody’s wish list on Putin is blossoming. I bet on the status quo. He’s not going anywhere. Not until Ukraine pushes him out.” (I’ve since upped the odds on his staying to 4-1 even if all of Ukraine is returned.)
Did I have some magic crystal ball? No. I was betting on my ignorance. There seemed to be no real evidence upon which to base predictions of the wonderful outcomes espoused by others. A coup would require more than Prigozhin. Highly placed officials in the Russian government would have to take their life in their hands by suggesting to other such officials the time had come to be rid of their leader. If those others chose loyalty to Putin, poison would be on its way.
There was no information suggesting any such rebellion was being considered. And, of course, there wouldn’t be, even if a coup was being considered, but that was the state of our ignorance and it seemed to suggest betting on the status quo. As I write this, I seem to have been right. But by the time it is published, Putin may be gone. That’s the way it is with ignorance.
A second example is the debate over the Amherst zoning ordinance changes proposed by Mandi Jo Hanneke and Pat DeAngelis. I admit that presently I do not know enough about the panorama of issues related to the proposal to take a side. My interest here is in attitudes toward ignorance described in the Amherst Bulletin guest column “Restoring the missing middle in Amherst housing” [June 23].
Hanneke and DeAngelis argue that the petition calling for rejection of their proposed zoning revisions “mistakenly argues that if revisions can’t guarantee the fulfillment of the desired goals, they shouldn’t be done at all.” If this characterization is correct, I suggest the petitioners are weaponizing the inevitable ignorance that will accompany any such proposed changes.
Compare that weaponizing to the admirable, transparent recognition of ignorance by Hanneke and DeAngelis: “Will our proposal add new housing? We hope so, but we can’t guarantee that. … Will there be unintended consequences? Maybe, but maybe not.” They acknowledge zoning legislation can encourage some housing types over others but cannot force building them.
My response to their transparent treatment of ignorance is trust. It seems they try to inform the reader to the best of their ability about what they know and what they don’t know. On the other hand, the weaponizing of ignorance suggests to me a hidden agenda — some other reason besides uncertainty of outcome that motivates the opposition to the proposed changes. Naturally, I don’t know this to be the case. But that’s my intuitive response.
Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson, in her brilliant, must-read dissent to the Supreme Court’s decision on affirmative action in higher education admissions (supremecourt.gov/opinions/22pdf/20-1199_hgdj.pdf) says, “No one benefits from ignorance.” I agree. But knowing and being transparent about your ignorance can benefit many.
In a previous column I asserted errors and mistakes are a natural concomitant of action. So too is ignorance a natural concomitant of cognition. It is a commonplace that the more one knows, the more one knows how much they don’t know. Expansion of knowledge produces realization of how much more we don’t know than we previously realized. And it seems that the expansion of the amount we are newly ignorant of tends to be a large multiple of the amount we have newly learned.
Consider all we didn’t know that opened to us when it became evident that the stars were not simply holes in a solid firmament that encased the universe. The more we learn, the greater, percentage wise, is our acquired ignorance! And yet we choose learning.
Ignorance has inspired some to suggest knowledge where none exists. My favorite example is one I’ve explored here before: the claim that we know that brains produce thoughts. The small problem that exists is that no one in the entire world has the foggiest idea of a process by which neurons make thoughts. It is so much more honest to say I don’t know when that is the case.
Richard S. Bogartz is professor emeritus of psychology at the University of Massachusetts Amherst.
