Sloppy Thinking

Doublethink: the ability to hold two contradictory beliefs simultaneously without seeing or questioning the contradiction between them. The term was coined by George Orwell in the classic book 1984. In the novel, doublethink refers to the unthinking citizen's ability to accept without question the government's constantly changing version of the truth (which we might call doublespeak, although the term doesn't appear in the book). So the government can claim to have raised the chocolate ration, even though the facts say it was lowered, and the masses nod and cheer at their good fortune and question not a thing. Anyone who pays the slightest attention to the news knows that doublethink is a phenomenon that is not limited to futuristic 20th century fiction. It is with us today, not only in the public sphere but in the private one. In our sinful condition, we human beings have an unlimited capacity for self-deception and rationalization that makes its way into all aspects of our lives and thus into all our social institutions, large and small. The only cure for that sickness is repentance, and the only thing that will put an end to it is the destruction of this fallen earthly kingdom and the establishment of God's perfect, eternal one. But in the meantime, we have to make the best of the here and now, so it sure would be nice if we would all use our God-given intellect to think a little more and feel a little less, at least when it comes to the world of facts.

So, doublespeak is intentional manipulation of facts in order to mislead and thereby control, whereas doublethink is the lazy mindset that makes doublespeak possible. Here is a case in point of how easy it is to practice doublethink, even when the two things that are mutually contradictory are side by side, staring you in the face. On July 4, the Associated Press published an article by Tom Roam entitled, "Rising debt might be next crisis." (Well, duh--but that's not the point here, so we'll move on.) Here are the opening paragraphs of the article:

"The Founding Fathers left one legacy not celebrated on Independence Day but which affects us all. It's the national debt.

"The country first got into debt to help help pay for the Revolutionary War. Growing ever since, the debt stands today at a staggering $11.5 trillion--equivalent to more than $37,000 for each and every American. And it's expanding by more than $1 trillion a year."

The history buffs out there may have already spotted the factual error. (Those facts--they're such inconvenient, pesky little things.) The national debt has not been "growing ever since" the Revolutionary War. In fact, President Andrew Jackson paid it off, rejecting one infrastructure project after another to do so. At other times in the nation's history, it has risen and fallen in tandem with the country's economic health and involvement (or lack thereof) in war. Yes, the overall trend has been upward from the founding until now. But to state that the debt has been rising ever since the nation's inception is inaccurate and disingenuous. And to refer to it as the Founding Fathers' "legacy" takes the pressure off those who bear current responsibility by suggesting that the debt has always been with us and is a fact of life that we have little choice but to accept.

Here's where the doublethink comes in. In the Northwest Herald, the McHenry County, IL newspaper in which my husband and I saw this article (while attending my friend's son's wedding), there was a bullet list of facts to one side of the article. One of those bullets stated, "The nation has been out of debt only once since the American Revolution: in 1834-35." Well, what do you know? Someone apparently does care about the facts. I'm thinking the credit for that bullet point probably goes to the Northwest Herald, because it's not an element of the multiple places you can find the article online (the article itself does eventually get around to saying it, but it's much later on in the story. And if you're like me, you often scan news articles, reading the headline and maybe the first few paragraphs, but only continuing if the article really interests you, which in this case would give a skewed picture. So kudos to the Northwest Herald for highlighting the facts in a way that provides a fuller, more accurate picture.)

Even with the bullet point, though, I bet most people would not pick up on the contradiction in the article. Full disclosure: I didn't (my husband pointed it out to me). I am as much a lazy thinker as the next person, accepting without questioning too much of what is placed before me. This wasn't a matter of my needing to know the historical record in order to recognize the contradiction. The contradiction was right there before me in black and white. Maybe if I had read the whole article from start to finish it would have sunk in that something wasn't computing. But from my cursory look at the headline, the opening few paragraphs and the bullet points, I didn't immediately see it. And I think of myself as a fairly intelligent and clear-thinking person.

So what's the answer? I don't know. I think my own response has been to become incredibly skeptical about the information that comes my way (just ask my husband). I don't trust anyone much--even those whose integrity I would bet money on--because I imagine they are probably just as susceptible to being duped as I am. Much of what I read goes in one ear and out the other because I doubt its veracity but don't have the time to pursue the truth of the matter. It's frustrating, because in our information society--the one I first heard about some years ago in the book Megatrends--it is more important than ever that we practice critical information consumption. And yet because of the constant onslaught of information I think human beings have less capacity to concentrate and pay attention these days (so much for evolutionary theory--I would argue we're devolving, not evolving). The ability to think critically--to not merely absorb information but to analyze, categorize, and organize it--seems to be a dying art in our postmodern world. I think that's why our culture has become so dominated by feelings and impressions and intuitions and headlines and soundbites. So maybe that's where the gut comes in. If your gut--not your heart or even your head but your gut--tells you something isn't adding up, it probably isn't.

New Readaloud

One of the things we have always done in our homeschool is read out loud together. Even when other things fall by the wayside, if we have prayed and read together I feel like the day has not been a loss.

This past year, though, it has been harder to maintain a regular readaloud schedule. My two oldest children are branching out from the home more and more, pursuing individual interests, activities, and studies, and that makes it difficult to find time to read together. With our trip to Grenada and various other schedule demands, we went several months without doing so at all.

But I am not ready to give up on readalouds. Not yet, anyway. The time is simply too wonderful and too well spent. So yesterday we started a new book. Often our readaloud relates to whatever historical period we are studying at the time. Sometimes it's chosen just because it's a great story. But this time I decided to have us read something a little different: The Screwtape Letters, by C. S. Lewis. Have you ever read it? It has been about 10-15 years since I did. Wow--already in the first few chapters, I am reminded of why the book made such an impression on me back then. If you have never read it, add it to your to-do list now.

In the book, a demon named Screwtape writes a series of letters to his nephew, another demon named Wormwood, giving advice on how to win souls for the Devil. Here are a few excerpts from the opening chapters:

"Your man has been accustomed, ever since he was a boy, to have a dozen incompatible philosophies dancing about together inside his head. He doesn't think of doctrines as primarily 'true' or 'false', but as 'academic' or 'practical', 'outworn' or 'contemporary', 'conventional' or 'ruthless'. Jargon, not argument, is your best ally in keeping him from the Church." (Chapter 1)

"One of our great allies at present is the Church itself. Do not misunderstand me. I do not mean the Church as we see her spread out through all time and space and rooted in eternity . . . . [but] the half-finished, sham Gothic erection on the new building estate. . . . When he gets to his pew and looks round him he sees just that selection of his neighbours whom he has hitherto avoided. You want to lean pretty heavily on those neighbours. Make his mind flit to and fro between an expression like 'the body of Christ' and the actual faces in the next pew." (Chapter 2)

"Keep out of his mind the question 'If I, being what I am, can consider that I am in some sense a Christian, why should the different vices of those people in the next pew prove that their religion is mere hypocrisy and convention?' You may ask whether it is possible to keep such an obvious thought from occurring even to a human mind. It is, Wormwood, it is! . . . At bottom, he still believes he has run up a very favourable credit-balance in the Enemy's [God's] ledge by allowing himself to be converted . . . ." (Chapter 2)

"Keep his mind on the inner life. He thinks his conversion is something inside him and his attention is therefore chiefly turned at present to the states of his own mind . . . . Encourage this. Keep his mind off the most elementary duties by directing it to the most advanced and spiritual ones. Aggravate that most useful human characteristic, the horror and neglect of the obvious. You must bring him to a condition in which he can practise self-examination for an hour without discovering any of those facts aobut hiself which are perfectly clear to anyone who has ever lived in the same house with him or worked in the same office."

Good stuff, huh? In just a few paragraphs, Lewis takes on postmodernism, slams works righteousness and decision theology, and highlights the doctrine of vocation, the sinner's need for repentance, the eternal nature of the Church, and the Lord's free grace. My children, ages 13 & 16, were begging for just "one more chapter." Don't worry, dears, we have 28 more to look forward to!