Diversity: the ultimate collective edge

Become such as you are, having learned what that is. (Pindar)


One can hardly deny to himself the need of saying something. On one hand, one probably cares more about what he says than what he doesn’t. Presumably, the energy he puts into uttering those very words should be of some importance to his survivorship.

On the other hand, we all know very well how much we don’t say in order to make our lives better or easier. We refrain from judging people too harshly, because we want them to stick around. We may avoid to tell our friend how his breath smells bad, because we don’t want to hurt him. In most cases, though, we know that we will have to speak up, at some point – so why delaying every word to the future?


If you are intellectually honest enough, you know that what you say is going to resonate just with a few, not with everybody. This recognition makes philosophers’ work all the more challenging. The philosopher is, in the end, after some kind of universal truth. And yet philosophical practice involves constant debating and reasoning, so that none of your fellow speakers would think as you do.

Some philosophers embrace a relativistic stance, and are happy to elaborate less-than-universal claims. Socrates was held by Plato to be the humblest man who has ever lived, the man who knows to know nothing. In spite of Plato’s portrait, Aristophanes and Nietzsche have called Socrates out as profoundly dogmatic.

It really seems that in order to make a difference, you need to talk to someone, and this is not loose business-talk. Aiming at communicating with everyone usually ends up to talking to no one. Even those leaders whose success builds upon appealing to what is common in every of us – think of Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela or the Dalai Lama, who championed the principles of humanity, rationality and compassion – don’t get along without enemies. In fact, it almost seems that the foe’s harshness is proportional to the hero’s success.

Bacoli, 2012


What you say influences what you will do afterwards. You’d be either reliable, either controversial; some will respect you as being trustworthy, and enemies would build up any controversies to attack your integrity. Some will praise your controversy, and judge it as a firm trait of character. Obama gained his respect while conspiracy theorists questioned his birth certificate. Trump obtained the presidency by being coherently ruthless.

There are two ways in which you would deal with the critic: either you care about her opinion, either you don’t. Academics won’t be concerned about what the layman thinks; they sink into peer-reviews and journals, with a kind of partisanship which supports their point, no matter what the opponent is going to argue. Yet people will question exactly that predisposition: the distance from the intellectual and the layman inflates a bubble that bursts every now and then, with visible consequences. Take the democratic blindness to social tension in the last U.S. Presidentials. Take economists who rely on models that disrupt entire industries.

people won’t be able to work productively without that kind of narrowed attention. If a stranger drops a nasty comment on your recent book page or article, you probably don’t want to care about him. You want to keep in mind who your recipient is, and leave out all the rest. Yet we all, little pieces of the world, need to fit together. Somehow. We share common needs: a shelter to chill out, a market to shop at, a dear one to hug. Your book and my blog article and Alex Jones’s broadcast speak to different people, while sharing common language and internet access. Biologists celebrate and protect biodiversity as the main ecosystem’s productivity boost:1)http://www.globalissues.org/article/170/why-is-biodiversity-important-who-cares at a superficial glance, you may like the idea of avoiding fights between lions and gazzelle by removing bit cats. Undeniably, though, one species wouldn’t be there without the other. Humans too have a biodiversity of their own. History has shown that every attempt at reducing it – mass-murders, indian reservations, you name it – has made us complexively poorer.

We all need to feel right, most of the time. Overwhelmed by cognitive dissonance, we wouldn’t go much far. It feels like I could be wrong just little by little, even though I may make up my mind ten times in a lifetime. And at least in some points of the reasoning chain, I would look for additional reasons to support what I’ve meditated upon. To be right, in the end. But this kind of cynical, skeptical talk of rational reasoning shouldn’t dismiss one from trying his best in pursuing his truth of expression. Being aware to try on different beliefs with biased tendencies will ultimately make our thinking less partial.

We want to own our stories, so that they ultimately make sense. We want them to be as coherent as they can be. And if you are the kind of person who doesn’t trust much her guts – who feels insicure and undervalues her worth – then you may take refuge in psychology, revert to the Dunning-Krueger effect2)https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunning%E2%80%93Kruger_effect and reclaim your smartness.


Don’t you think gems cannot be found in business TV series as well. As Bobby tells to Taylor in Billions,

Sometimes you catch yourself watching all the people like they are another species.

So you retreat behind your aquarium walls, watching.

But you don’t realise, Taylor, that glass, it’s not a barrier, it’s a lens.

It’s an asset. It is what makes you good.

You see things differently. That’s an edge.3)http://www.sho.com/billions/season/2/episode/2/dead-cat-bounce


We all have a little bit of a Taylor within ourselves. We see things differently.

And that’s an edge, for everybody.

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