It’s probably more complicated than that

My mum used to have a t-shirt that read, “it’s probably more complicated than that”. As a guiding mantra when entering into a debate on anything in life we could all do worse than adopt this, yet at the same time there is an alluring pressure to make things simple. Above my desk, as I write this, I have a schematic of the cognitive bias codex as a reminder to myself of the complexity of the human brain. Of course it doesn’t stop me from falling into the traps, it just reminds me that I probably have.

We know that in times of stress and pressure we can rely more on our unconscious brain and that it can also be the place where some of the biases are held, to help make sense of information quickly and simply. And of course, most of us have lived through a period of sustained stress and pressure, so it is perhaps unexpected when we are so tired, so consumed with the pressures of life, so run down as a society that we want to make other things simpler.

Right. Wrong.

Good. Bad.

With. Against.

Fair. Unfair.

Politicians, media and campaigners understand this well. They’ve learnt the tricks of manipulation and use them freely. We call them out on it when they are suggesting something we disagree with, yet we lap it up when used on something that we agree with – the bandwagon effect. And at the same time our confirmation bias allows us to label “facts” as misinformation when they disagree with our argument, but accept “misinformation” as facts when they prove our case. And the funny thing is that most of us, if we take a little time to reflect, know this and can probably recognise when we have done this.

There was a lovely example of this recently with the launch of Threads in the battle between Facebook and Twitter. I watched as people moved across to the new platform and proclaimed how wonderful it was to find a platform where there was none of the hate or noise, a pure place like back in the early days. And then I watched as the same people, started to exhibit the same behaviours as they denounced on Twitter, sharing misinformation and biased political commentary. Of course, it isn’t the platform that makes the culture it is the people, what they were celebrating was the temporary loss of “the other lot”.

So what do we take from this? I don’t know. People are tired, we’ve been through (and are going through) a really difficult period in society. We all have a need to make things easier for ourselves and that might mean more judgment and less curiosity. We can’t stop that in society, but we can observe it in ourselves and our behaviour. And at the end of the day, it probably is more complicated than that – so maybe we don’t have to have an opinion right now or at all. Maybe that’s a start.

It can happen anywhere

Watching the allegation of sexual harassment at Westminster unfold, fills me with a sense of despair. Only three weeks ago I was writing that dignity wasn’t optional in relation to the Hollywood revelations and now not a day goes by without allegations being made against another man in power.

One of the most fascinating aspects (if fascinating can ever be an appropriate term in this context) is the reaction of onlookers to the various allegations. As those accused provide the justifications for their actions or denials, others look on and pass judgment. Social media is full of commentary and the mainstream media provides opportunity for others to provide their analysis.

More than once I’ve read the phrase, “witch hunt” and I’m desperate to ask, “by whom?” and “for the sake of what?”. But perhaps one of the most interesting aspects is the political lens that is being put on the allegations by many of those watching events unfold. Believing the stories of those that we agree with, or are like us, versus disbelieving those that aren’t alike.

At the heart of this is one of the biggest reasons that cultures permit behaviours to become entrenched that are unacceptable to the independent eye. When we choose to believe those that we like, trust or associate with because of that association and we do not base our assessment on fact, then we run the risk of allowing the system to get out of control.

That’s why our role as leaders has to be to bring an independent and rational approach to any type of allegation or complaint that is brought to our attention. That’s why we have to rise above relationships and look simply at the information that is presented before us. That’s why we have to be willing to make decisions that break a system as well as to strive to remake it.

In-group and out-group cognitive biases are pervasive in cultures that go wrong. “They’re all like that”, “they’re all at it”, but “we’re not like that” and “we’re different”. These biases prevent us from seeing the glaringly obvious, but also allow us to re-interpret the actions that we see and prevent us from taking the actions that we would otherwise call on others to take.

Ultimately, and sadly, issues like sexual harassment and bullying don’t understand organisational boundaries, they don’t understand political boundaries. They are as likely to happen in one place as another unless we put in the systems and interventions in place to try to minimise the occurrence. And that starts with recognising that when an issue is raised we need to be open, thoughtful and balanced in our approach.