The truth is, most people don’t know what they really believe.

For one thing, most people have never had their beliefs truly tested. They know what they think they believe, but unless said beliefs are brought to bear on a direct, real life experience, we have no idea how we truly feel… how we would really react.

For another thing, a lot of people adopt beliefs not as true deep down convictions, but as part of their social camouflage. They know what answers are required for them to fit in with their social group, and use those beliefs to guide their social actions. They know what they want to be seen to believe.

There is also the identity aspect of professed belief. People adopt the beliefs that match the kind of person they want to be, or the kind of person they think they are. As long as said beliefs remain untested, there is no conflict. Someone can go on thinking that gays shouldn’t be able to marry or that all races are equal for many years, but then one of their children comes out of the closet or a black family moves in next door, and they find out what they really believe.

Also, most people are too busy dealing with life to really reflect on what they truly believe. Modern life keeps us busy. That’s what it’s supposed to do. And being that busy keeps us off the philosopher’s road most of the time. We simply don’t have the time, energy, or desire to think really deeply about things. The philosopher’s road is a rough and dangerous place. It’s far better to just get on with life and not worry about the big things.

That’s why philosophy requires solitude. You need time where your mind can be clear enough to delve deep into complex and difficult thoughts. This is why philosophers become loners, and loners become philosophers.

Now obviously, I am not talking about the simple beliefs about how the world works that we use all the time. We’re not talking about beliefs about how to drive a car, what makes for a good lunch, or how to give a presentation. We are not talking about beliefs as to how doors work or a belief in the practical applications of gravity.

No, we are talking the deep stuff, like how criminals should be treated or what should be done about world hunger or what kind of a person people should strive to be.

That leads us to the arena where our beliefs come into contact with practical reality : politics. Despite how it seems a lot of the time, politics is where the marketplace of ideas interfaces with the way our various levels of government are actually led.

Due to the highly indirect nature of representative democracy, the interface is weak and unreliable at best. A lot of other factors cloud the picture. But, amazingly enough, and despite all the odds, our governments do end up more or less representing the will of the people sooner or later.

Which brings us back to what people truly believe. We must ask the question : how many people vote their true beliefs, versus how many vote their social camouflage or idea of themselves?

I think, in modern democracies, we have ways of convincing ourselves either that our beliefs do matter (say, on an Internet forum) or that they do not (say, in election season). Lost in the shuffle is the true power of the marketplace of ideas. History clearly shows us that public opinion about subjects changes in very large ways over time, and it is rare that we stop and think about exactly how this happens.

Clearly, sometimes, people arguing with each other over politics actually has an effect. Certain positions gain power over time via people knowing how to overcome others rhetorically. In general, the more socially advanced, tolerant opinions overcome the more narrow and prejudiced ones in modern democracies because out societies are based on tolerance and understanding, at least in the “live and let live” “mind your own business” sense. This can only happen if, over time, some people start winning arguments while others lose.

The true sign that one side is winning, then, becomes the other side’s unwillingness to engage. When one side knows, even if only on a subconscious level, that their positions are no longer rhetorically supportable, they become understandably reluctant to enter the arena. They know they will lose every single time.

So while it is easy to tell oneself that political arguments never solve anything, nobody ever changes their minds, and even if they do, they will never ever admit they lost, so what’s the point? And it’s true in the small scale. Our reptile brains cause us to seek to dominate others with our arguments, and that means forcing them to submit to us and cry uncle.

But verbal arguments lack the kind of force to make that really happen. It’s clearly possible, but extraordinarily unlikely. No argument is so perfect that it can actually make someone admit they were wrong, and to think so is to assume that everyone is intellectually honest, and to be honest, they aren’t.

This lack of clear victory makes it seem like the arguments are futile to our reptile minds. But opinions clearly change over time and argument is the only plausible mechanism for that. Somehow, these seemingly pointless arguments, at least some of the time, actually have a point.

And seeing as these arguments are based on personal belief, and we know that the people of today have reached consensus on things that were extremely contentious in the past, what people actually believe in the future is really on the line at all times.

It’s hard to tell what contribution we make ourselves because the effect is cumulative. It is meaningless to ask which rock is truly the avalanche. All we can do is apply what force we can, and hope our side wins.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.