As close as I get to epistemic status: “Mm, yes, this type of argument that I’m making is usually self-serving”
Common heuristics to let me assume an argument is self-serving or lacks intellectual honesty include:
the argument justifies (rationalizes) a vice. For example, I watch too much junk TV on netflix, and commonly tell myself that I do it to relax. However, it is problematic, and I have better ways to relax than watch movies.
the argument justifies a plan that offers social acceptance, career development, or another important gain. I can backtrack from any convenient conclusion and ask myself, “Hmm, am I leaving out some important bit of contrary information, for example, that bears on other people’s well-being or some principle I keep or rule that I follow?”
the argument’s conclusion makes me feel sad or lonely or angry or ashamed about accepting the argument’s conclusion. Sometimes intellectual honesty is revealed by my feelings, but not always. Deciding on what my feelings mean takes some introspection and my ignorance makes this heuristic unreliable. Sometimes, though, a bothersome feelings is an important signal of a personal standard or preference that is not being met by my own rationalized behavior.
the argument’s entire structure changed with a change in what the conclusion would mean for me. For example, my argument for why I always take the trash out every evening can be quickly followed by why it’s OK to let the trash fester in the bin, if it happens to be raining hard outside and I don’t feel like getting wet.
the argument moves my attention to something else, and doing so changes my feelings for the better, but at the cost of my ignoring what was bothering me. My feelings don’t always correspond to a specific focus of my attention. I can focus on something else, and feel good about that, but as a consequence, ignore something that feels less good. At that point, I need other means, for example, cognitive aids or friendly helpers that remind me of what is relevant to problem-solve and give me pointers on how to deal with it.
the argument justifies idiocy. I keep a short list of human tendencies that I consider idiotic (for example, sadism), and most people don’t display them most of the time, but any argument that justifies them or enables them is suspect to me. Which actually starts a more difficult intellectual enquiry than one would expect.
a person stating their own position holds a dissonant perspective for a later time People typically put effort in one direction and then take a break from that to be somebody else. For example, they trade in their priest’s collar for a roughneck jacket and go act like a jerk. By day, they’re a mild-mannered gentle person, but by night, they’re a gun-toting crazy vigilante! Or whatever. Point is, they adopt principles like it’s a part-time job or a uniform to wear. Statements about principles from those people, wonderful though those people may be, are self-serving or outright lies, typically.
Heuristics that identify self-serving arguments
As close as I get to epistemic status: “Mm, yes, this type of argument that I’m making is usually self-serving”
Common heuristics to let me assume an argument is self-serving or lacks intellectual honesty include:
the argument justifies (rationalizes) a vice. For example, I watch too much junk TV on netflix, and commonly tell myself that I do it to relax. However, it is problematic, and I have better ways to relax than watch movies.
the argument justifies a plan that offers social acceptance, career development, or another important gain. I can backtrack from any convenient conclusion and ask myself, “Hmm, am I leaving out some important bit of contrary information, for example, that bears on other people’s well-being or some principle I keep or rule that I follow?”
the argument’s conclusion makes me feel sad or lonely or angry or ashamed about accepting the argument’s conclusion. Sometimes intellectual honesty is revealed by my feelings, but not always. Deciding on what my feelings mean takes some introspection and my ignorance makes this heuristic unreliable. Sometimes, though, a bothersome feelings is an important signal of a personal standard or preference that is not being met by my own rationalized behavior.
the argument’s entire structure changed with a change in what the conclusion would mean for me. For example, my argument for why I always take the trash out every evening can be quickly followed by why it’s OK to let the trash fester in the bin, if it happens to be raining hard outside and I don’t feel like getting wet.
the argument moves my attention to something else, and doing so changes my feelings for the better, but at the cost of my ignoring what was bothering me. My feelings don’t always correspond to a specific focus of my attention. I can focus on something else, and feel good about that, but as a consequence, ignore something that feels less good. At that point, I need other means, for example, cognitive aids or friendly helpers that remind me of what is relevant to problem-solve and give me pointers on how to deal with it.
the argument justifies idiocy. I keep a short list of human tendencies that I consider idiotic (for example, sadism), and most people don’t display them most of the time, but any argument that justifies them or enables them is suspect to me. Which actually starts a more difficult intellectual enquiry than one would expect.
a person stating their own position holds a dissonant perspective for a later time People typically put effort in one direction and then take a break from that to be somebody else. For example, they trade in their priest’s collar for a roughneck jacket and go act like a jerk. By day, they’re a mild-mannered gentle person, but by night, they’re a gun-toting crazy vigilante! Or whatever. Point is, they adopt principles like it’s a part-time job or a uniform to wear. Statements about principles from those people, wonderful though those people may be, are self-serving or outright lies, typically.