"Deep" Bullshit

Some ideas are truly deep. Darwin’s theory of natural selection is probably the deepest. With four simple assumptions—1) members of a species are different, 2) the differences are heritable, 3) the differences matter for survival and reproduction, and 4) the earth is very old—Darwin explains eyes, ears, wings, digestion, echolocation, courtship, mate guarding, immune systems, familial love, and every other anti-entropic, functionally organized chunk of matter in the biological world. The ratio of what is assumed to what is explained is infinitesimal. Evolution is the most powerful theory ever devised by a human being—so powerful that it explains the cognitive machinery of the human being that devised the theory. 

Some ideas seem deep but are actually stupid. Crackpot theories and supernatural bullshit can elicit the same feelings of awe and wonder as the theory of evolution. Consider Alfred Russel Wallace, the British naturalist who independently discovered evolution at nearly the same time as Darwin. Wallace was taken in by all sorts of paranormal nonsense about communicating with ghostly spirits—an obsession that eventually destroyed his scientific reputation. Here was a man who discovered evolution, the deepest idea of all time, and who chose to ignore it in favor of mumbo jumbo. How does that happen to a person? What makes an idea seem deep, even when it’s not?

Unfortunately, I don’t really know the answer yet—I’m still puzzling over it. But I think I can explain part of what’s going on, and it has to do with a certain kind of intellectual parlor trick.

Understanding the illusion of understanding

In a previous post, I argued that the information we find interesting is mostly bullshit. Our appetite for information does not naturally guide us toward truth and wisdom, but toward gossip, flattery, shibboleths, and propaganda. We shop around for beliefs in much the same way we shop around for clothes, searching for whatever makes us look sharp and fashionable.

That’s why we’re fascinated by ideas that are special. Our attention is captured by the hottest takes and the boldest pronouncements. We want to stake out unique positions that no one else has taken, or discover secrets that no one else knows about, so that when we convince people we’re right and in the know, we get to look cooler than everyone else.

But on the other hand, we want ideas that are plausible. We’re attracted to the appearance of rigor and credibility (if not the real thing), because we need to actually convince people the information is true—or at least, worth taking seriously. If we fail to convince anyone we’re right, then we won’t look superior to anyone, and we might end up looking stupid, gullible, or crazy.

So we’re faced with a trade-off between specialness and plausibility. The need for specialness pulls us toward weirder and more outlandish beliefs, while the need for plausibility pulls us toward more obvious and commonsensical beliefs. Contrarians favor the former end of the trade-off. Normies favor the latter end of the trade-off.

But is there any way to avoid the trade-off altogether—to have our cake and eat it? Can we say stuff that’s special and plausible at the same time? I think we can.

Enter the deepity. A deepity is a statement with two interpretations: one that is bold, provocative, and earth-shattering, and another that is boring, obvious, or banal. This allows us to have it both ways. When we’re trying to be special, we can lean on the bold interpretation. When we’re trying to convince people we’re right, we can pivot to the boring interpretation.

“The present moment is all there is.” That’s a deepity. You can either read it as “the future and the past don’t matter,” a bold and provocative idea, or “what’s happening right now is all that’s happening right now,” an obvious truism.

The term “deepity” comes from the philosopher Daniel Dennett, and the example he gave was the following sentence:

“Love is just a word.” 

At first glance, the sentence is mind-boggling. All our trysts and romances and courtship rituals are just an arbitrary convention—a mere puff of air from our mouths? Whoa! But glance at the sentence again, and it morphs into a tautology. Of course “love” is just a word. Every word is just a word. What else would a word be? 

Deepities are appealing because they give us the illusion of insight. When we waffle back and forth between the mind-boggling interpretation and the trivial interpretation, we get the feeling of insight over and over again. It’s like the pleasure of getting in and out of a hot tub on a cold night. Instead of alternating between hot and cold, we get to alternate between “No way!” and “Yea, okay.” Deepities are brain hacks. When we gawk at one, we’re not actually learning anything; we’re just confusing ourselves and resolving the confusion. 

If you haven’t seen the Tim and Eric sketch this comes from, you should.

A “deep” experience

A few years ago, I was at a restaurant with my wife while she was pregnant, and as we were leaving, an old woman approached us. The woman stared intensely into my wife’s eyes and said, “Excuse me. I don’t know why, but I have to tell you this…” The woman gestured at my wife’s pregnant belly and said, “That baby is going to change the world.” 

My wife started to tear up. In the moment, she was moved—she thought it was a “deep” experience (though she later admitted it was bullshit). I confess that even I myself felt a little moved by the encounter, though I of course knew it was bullshit too. What was going on? Why did the woman’s prophecy seem so profound?

Part of it was surely flattery. All parents want to believe their children are going to be wonderful, and the woman was telling us what we wanted to hear. If she had said, “That baby is going to be asshole,” it would not have seemed deep. But I think it was more than just flattery, and I think it had to do with the phrase, “change the world.”  

This is the perfect example of a deepity. On one reading, it’s incredible: our child is going to be the president or bring about world peace or something. Wow! On another reading, it’s obvious. Of course our child will change the world in some way. No human being can exist without changing their surroundings.

Now, if the woman had made a more specific prediction—“In the year 2067, your child will win the Nobel Prize in Economics for her research on stock market volatility”—it would not have seemed deep. It would have seemed crazy. So “deep” bullshit is more than just flattery, and it’s more than just prophecy. It’s a set of dual interpretations, sane and crazy, boring and interesting, true and outlandish. 

Toward a compendium of deepities

Let’s dissect some other examples.

“What we think, we become.” - the Buddha

• Interesting interpretation. If you think you’re Abraham Lincoln, you will become Abraham Lincoln.

• Boring interpretation. Thoughts cause behavior. 

“If a thing loves, it is infinite.” - William Blake

• Interesting interpretation. If you love someone, you achieve immortality or become a black hole or something. 

• Boring interpretation. If you love someone, that is really, really cool.

“The future influences the present as much as the past.” - Friedrich Nietzsche

• Interesting interpretation. Something that happens at time 2 can retroactively cause something to happen at time 1.

• Boring interpretation. People sometimes think about the future.

“Everything happens for a reason.”

• Interesting interpretation. Things happen because a supernatural being or cosmic spirit wanted them to happen.

• Boring interpretation. Things have causes.

“We are all connected; To each other, biologically. To the earth, chemically. To the universe, atomically.” - Neil deGrasse Tyson

• Interesting interpretation. We are bound together by a spirit of universal love, warmly embraced by Mother Earth, and suffused with cosmic significance.

• Boring interpretation. We’re humans. We’re made of chemicals. The chemicals are made of atoms. We’re in the universe.

“The power of intention is the power to manifest, to create…” - Wayne Dyer

• Interesting interpretation. Intentions can magically get you whatever you want.

• Boring interpretation. Intentions often cause you to do the thing you intended.

“Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.” - Khalil Gibran

• Interesting interpretation. Pain is the only way to understand reality.

• Boring interpretation. Pain teaches you something, and what it teaches you is: don’t do that.

“Knowledge is power.” - Francis Bacon

• Interesting interpretation. Reading lots of books will magically turn you into Xi Xinpeng. 

• Boring interpretation. Knowledge is often helpful.

“The future is inside us. It’s not anywhere else.” - Radiohead

• Interesting interpretation. We can magically control the future without having to deal with conflicts, compromises, limitations, constraints, inertia, coordination problems, or unpredictable events.

• Boring interpretation. Our goals are inside us. They’re not anywhere else.

“Each of us can manifest the properties of a field of consciousness that transcends space, time, and causality.” - Stanislav Grof

• Interesting interpretation. We can have thoughts that do not come before or after other thoughts, do not occur inside our heads, and have no causes or effects.

• Boring interpretation. We can imagine stuff.

Can you think of any other examples? Do you have any “deep” experiences to share?