By Jerry E. Landrum
I detest those “stupid people” bumper stickers. You probably have seen them before. A cursory internet browse reveals some uninspiring examples:
“Stupid people suck!”
“I hate stupid people!”
“Make the stupid people shut up!”
I could go on, but the point is that for around five bucks you can get a bumper sticker that enables you to attack your neighbor’s intellect while simultaneously driving down the road—a very American efficiency!
I detest these bumper stickers because of their underlying assumption. The assumption is that my perspective is right; your perspective is wrong. Only a stupid person could have your perspective. But the stickers have less to do with intellect and more to do with perspective.
One of the best things about being in the military for more than thirty years is that I have gotten to know people from around the world. Thus, I have been exposed to many different perspectives about how the world should work. To be sure, these different perspectives have not always aligned with my personal worldview. But as a military member I was obligated to work with people I sometimes fundamentally disagreed with. This was a requirement because I was working on a team that had a purpose more important than any individual. In general, I have worked relatively successfully in these diverse environments, and I recently began to wonder how I was able to do so. My conclusion was that I interacted with others with a mindset of what I call “doubtful certitude.”
At first glance, this phrase seems contradictory. The idea of doubt and certainty are surely mutually exclusive terms. While they are indeed antonyms, I believe the most successful teams are filled with individuals who have successfully incorporated this enigmatic concept into workplace interactions.
Absolute Certainty vs. Perceived Certainty
To explain this seemingly contradictory concept, let us start with the second word of the term–certitude. The Oxford Dictionary defines certitude as “the absolute certainty or conviction that something is the case.” As Jeffery Weber pointed out in his 1997 article on the subject, Aristotle dealt with the issue of certainty in his Niomachean Ethics, where he described certainty as the level of knowledge one has about a subject as derived from the deductive study of science, practice, intuition, philosophy, and art.
However, Thomas Aquinas astutely pointed out that lack of information very often limits our ability to accurately deduce from propositions, which diminishes the certainty of our conclusions. In this way, humans are limited in their ability to achieve absolute certainty about the way the world works–especially future outcomes.
Philosophers from the Age of Enlightenment amplified the challenge of obtaining absolute certainty about the world. For example, Thomas Hobbes argued that certainty is only a “fiction of the mind” that humans use to reduce anxiety. However, Renes Descartes, John Locke, and David Hume demonstrated that while humans could not achieve absolute certainty about truth, we could achieve partial certainty through empirical study. According to Weber, these philosophers helped the West understand that “through demonstrative explanations, intuition, proofs, and probabilities it is possible for one to perceive certainty in an issue.”
Today, there is an increased commitment to achieve perceived certainty through empirical statistical analysis, but this statistical analysis never claims absolute certainty. For example, political scientists Edward Mansfield and Jack Snyder argue in their influential article Democratic Transitions, Institutional Strength, and War that “transitions to democracy are more likely to generate hostilities than transitions toward autocracy (my emphasis).” The term “more likely” acknowledges only probabilistic outcomes. This is why statisticians emphasize “degrees of confidence” over the idea of “degrees of certainty.” When it comes to human affairs, the best political scientists can claim is the probability of a given outcome within the context of established conditions.
Perceived certainty about the world is surely an essential element of human experience. It allows military practitioners to better evaluate risk and make decisions. General Dwight D. Eisenhower’s famous decision to start the Operation Overlord invasion in June 1944 stands as a practical example of perceived certainty. Given the sea and air conditions at that time, he felt there was a high probability–not absolute certainty–of success. Indeed, his famous “in case of failure” note, to be delivered to political leaders in the event of defeat, stressed that his “decision to attack at this time and place was based on the best information available.” In other words, he acknowledged implicitly that he did not have complete or perfect information, which is the inescapable reality of every human endeavor. Still, despite recommendations for postponement from general officers on his staff, Eisenhower was certain that the invasion would be successful, but his undelivered note (thankfully for the free world) clearly reveals there was some level of doubt. Coming to terms with a degree of confidence as it relates to absolute certainty helps military practitioners make better decisions, and it also helps to make them better teammates.
Merging Doubt with Certainty
In a military unit, a soldier should constantly advocate for her understanding about the best course of action. She should try to convince others of the certainty of her perspective. Every successful unit is composed of individuals who are passionate about what they do and who vigorously advocate for how the unit should run. This is a healthy and good state. This is, however, where the first word of the term must come into play–doubtful.
Under the time constraints of a military operations tempo, soldiers are so focused on getting things done as quickly as possible that they tend to push past different perspectives that hinder goal achievement. If we encounter a colleague who communicates a different perspective or offers new information on a given course of action, he becomes an instant obstacle and an internal debate emerges. Those with oppositional perspectives, if they insist on being heard, are labeled stupid, antiquated, unimaginative, and unrealistic, if only in our thoughts. Factions emerge behind a flawed assumption:
“I am certain my vision for this course of action is right, and your vision is wrong. Only a stupid person could endorse your vision.”
In such a line of thinking, the individual has completely forgotten that absolute certainty is impossible and that humans can only obtain perceived certainty, which is improved with different perspectives and new information. Depending on the circumstances, resistance to other perspectives might be subtly or openly expressed. In any case, my experience suggests that this type of friction usually leads to team dysfunction and sub-optimal group performance. If absolute certainty is impossible, then we should actively seek out fresh perspectives and new information because this will give the developed “course of action” a much higher “degree of confidence” in the probability of successfully achieving a desired end state.
Eisenhower’s D-Day decision is once again helpful for understanding how to avoid this flawed assumption. After he made his decision for invasion, Air Chief Marshal Trafford Leigh-Mallory, Eisenhower’s air commander, doubled down and begged Eisenhower to call off the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions’ insertion into Cherbourg, citing it as a “futile slaughter” that could result in a 70 percent casualty rate. In the high stakes of that moment, it would have been easy for Eisenhower to get angry with Leigh-Mallory’s reluctance to get on board with the plan. But Eisenhower chose to listen to the concerns of his “technical expert” and, more importantly, he sincerely contemplated Leigh-Mallory’s concerns. “I went to my tent to think,” Eisenhower later recounted. But he ultimately decided the “attack would go as planned.” He avoided the temptation to anger because he knew that Leigh-Mallory was “earnestly sincere” and only communicated his “frank convictions.” After the success of the operation was clear, Leigh-Mallory called “to express his regret that he had found it necessary to add to my personal burdens during the final tense days before D-day.” Eisenhower’s handling of the D-Day invasion decision is an excellent example of doubtful certitude in action.
Conclusion
To avoid taking a hard stand against oppositional perspectives, it seems that one should always temper his certitude with doubt. Believe that you are right about a course of action. Enthusiastically try to convince your colleagues that you are correct. However, when you are confronted with a different perspective or new information, never forget that you could be wrong and try to allocate more time to process different perspectives and new information. This is the essence of “doubtful certitude” as a philosophical concept that enables lifelong learning. It is nothing more than an internal acknowledgment that none of us has perfect knowledge and that we are all intellectually fallible. In doing this, you avoid staid, uninspiring, and cliché orthodoxies and contribute to a genuinely diverse and innovative work environment. A different perspective is not stupid simply because it is different from your perspective. So, if you catch yourself labeling others as stupid, whether it be at home, in the workplace, or with your bumper sticker, perhaps you have forgotten what philosophers who are smarter than you learned a long time ago. A lack of perfect knowledge means that you can never be absolutely certain about your own perspective. This should contribute to some level of charity in your personal discourse, healthier teams, and more productive group outcomes.
Jerry E. Landrum is an assistant professor at the United States Army War College. He has an MMAS from the School of Advanced Military Studies and a PhD from Kansas State University.
