Develop a Taste for Truth

Why do good people believe different things to be true? And, therefore, how do you know what is really true?

Those are age-old questions, still worth asking.

I recently read a book (actually listened to the audio version from the library, so I don’t have access to it for quotes): Collective Illusions, by Todd Rose. The author uses research and examples to show that what we believe, and how we perceive things, has more to do with social pressure than we realize.

book cover image from Amazon

He makes some good points. But I found that every example he uses that wasn’t politically neutral was from the point of view of a leftist/progressive. He was talking about how we censor ourselves to avoid social backlash, which is sometimes real. His example was a single, obscure statement that got backlash from, I guess, a Trump supporter, and that explains why he and so many of his friends feared saying anything about the subject online. It may have had to do with COVID shots; I can’t remember.

But he fails to recognize that there was actual censorship, cancelling, lives ruined for those who disagreed with the party line about such things. I’ve been censored. People I know personally have been censored. Many many online sources I listen to have been censored. “Going against community standards” could mean anything from suggesting ivermectin could be useful to showing footage of J6 with people being welcomed into the capitol where they peacefully walked through and exited without incident; or pointing out that “summer of love” riots, which were not mostly peaceful, were staged and paid for and not organic; or saying that men cannot get pregnant.

In other words, the author of a book encouraging us to recognize where our bias comes from, so we can better understand one another and come to know the truth, is unaware of his social biases and fails to overcome them, even while he tells us he knows what to do about them.

I listened to a podcast last week about how our beliefs come more from gut feelings than from reason and logic. The context was religious faith, as in leaving or coming to faith. But I think the concepts can be extrapolated further to truth in general. The interview is with Dr. Jeffrey Thayne, a psychologist and professor at BYU-Idaho, on the podcast Let’s Get Real with Stephen Jones. 

Thayne refers to a metaphor from a Jonathan Haidt book with an elephant and a rider. The rider is ostensibly in control, sitting up on top. But in reality, the rider goes where the elephant goes; the elephant has the power to obey or ignore the direction of the rider. The rider metaphorically represents the brain, while the elephant represents the gut, or the heart—the feelings of a person. It’s the feelings that have the real power.

Thayne gives some examples; this one was memorable: say he goes to the fridge to get the ingredients for his morning smoothie, but he’s out of berries, peaches, bananas—all the regular things. But he does have some leftover pizza. So he tosses that in the blender and makes himself a delicious breakfast smoothie. And Jones has a visible “gross” reaction: disgust—just as you probably did reading it here. But Thayne says he can give all the reasoning. The ingredients are the same for the pizza whether solid or in the smoothie; and the pizza gets essentially turned into a smoothie in your mouth by the time you swallow it. The nutrients are the same. It’s reasonable. And yet, you’re still going to find it disgusting.

However, there are some things that start out disgusting to you, but with repeated exposure become acceptable, and you even develop a taste for them. Avocadoes. Hot chili. Maybe black coffee (I’m not a coffee drinker, but it appears to me that no one starts out liking it). Smoking (again, never tried it, but secondhand smoke is pretty disgusting). There’s no reason I shouldn’t like honeydew melon, and yet it hasn’t been worth developing a taste for. I suppose, though, that I could develop a taste if I put effort into it.

The same principles might apply to social behavior or moral behavior. This week, as the P Diddy trial is underway, the defense seems to be saying, “Even though you might find his lifestyle disgusting and immoral, what you’re judging him on is whether he broke the law.” I do find his lifestyle disgusting and immoral. But the ostensible reason for the trial was the blackmail and human trafficking, which may or may not be among the racketeering charges. So I fear his defense might work in this specific case.

Testimony from one of the witnesses seems to say she did a lot of things that were disgusting to her, because she wanted something—connection to the famous guy who was telling her he would help her career, or that he loved her if she did whatever pleased him. Some of those disgusting things were so far beyond acceptable that it’s hard to imagine someone—even under threat of being beaten—would give in and do them. Drugs seem to have been useful to make the disgust tolerable. As did a pre-existing willingness to do many immoral acts of a somewhat lesser nature.

Grooming is a methodical process used by pedophiles and human traffickers to get a victim to accept things they wouldn’t have otherwise accepted—until they are captured and enslaved.

In therapy for irrational fears, an effective approach is to desensitize by repeated exposure. Someone with a fear of snakes could start out being willing to see a photo. Then a distant caged snake. Then a caged snake up closer. Then a snake being handled distantly by a handler. Then being closer to the snake and handler. Then getting close enough to touch the handled snake. Then possibly actually touching it. Then a longer touch. Maybe getting all the way to handling the snake itself. But at least getting over the irrational fear of being in the same vicinity. This could take several sessions, or it could be accomplished in a matter of hours.

On some scale, maybe we are all being groomed to accept things we shouldn’t. There are things that we found shocking even a couple of decades ago that seem tamer today. Movie depictions of sex outside of marriage today are a far cry from the separate beds in the old I Love Lucy sitcom of a married couple. We don’t want to be prudish, so we label ourselves tolerant; that’s a social pressure.

There’s the Alexander Pope poem you’ve probably heard:

“Vice is a monster of so frightful mien
As to be hated needs but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.”

― Alexander Pope

I admit that I have become somewhat numb to portrayals of sex outside of marriage in media. When I was young, Dr. Zhivago was shocking to me. I still prefer my entertainment clean, but I find that I accept more than possibly I should (when it’s hinted at, not actually shown), because the characters don’t have the same beliefs as I do. But really, it’s more a matter of lack of options—and more often now than when I was younger, I opt out of entertainment rather than accept it. Maybe that’s a matter of no time for entertainment more than intentionality on my part. So am I vulnerable to accepting too much sin in the world around me?

How long did it take society to go from “marriage is between a man and a woman” to “of course gays should be allowed to marry”? I never got there. Marriage is a particular thing with a specific meaning; it is not physically possible for gay people to be married, by the original, millennia-old definition. The new definition didn’t even exist until this century—and officially here in America for just a decade. And yet I am in a minority today; even holding that opinion is considered bigoted, homophobic, and all the epithets. From my viewpoint, it does not mean that I hate gay people; it means that I understand something differently, based on what I believe God has declared, and I’m not willing to develop a taste for what society says I must.

I don’t know why I am not swayed when so many around me are, even among those who are like-minded in many other ways. I don’t feel special or brave; maybe I’m just stubborn. Or maybe I have sought out reasons that align with my beliefs. One thing I do not do, as it would be fruitless, is to argue about it online. I do post my opinions here, but people who even find my opinion can take it or leave it; I don’t contend and attack.

Stephen Jones, left, with Dr. Jeffrey Thayne,
screenshot from here

Thayne points out that people are pretty much never swayed to think like you by rational arguments online. What sways people is “regular exposure to people who think like you, developing friends with people who think like you.” This could explain why people who exit the Democrat party and come to associate with Republicans find themselves picking up conservative ideas pretty quickly; they surround themselves with people having those ideas, and feel welcomed among them—finding them unlike the stereotype of racist angry people the previous group had portrayed them as.

But there has to be something that triggers the exit from the original group in the first place. Was it having just enough exposure to the other side to develop a taste for it? Or was it a growing distaste for being on a side with ideas and actions that didn’t align with their own?

It’s like being in a dining social club that only enjoys Indian food, and one day you say, “I admit I don’t really like Indian food.” So you go elsewhere and find a taste for Tex-Mex or smoked BBQ, and wonder how you’d let yourself miss that for so long.

OK, so this shows that gut feelings (or heart) move us more than logic and reasoning. And yet, there’s got to be a place in the search for truth for logic and reasoning, right? “Come now, and let us reason together,” as the scriptures tell us [Isaiah 1:18]. Yes. For strengthening a belief you are leaning toward because of your feelings. For aligning your mind with your heart, you could say. The more you do that, the more you’re going to trust your feelings when they come up against opposition.

Here’s one piece of advice Dr. Thayne suggests that I think makes a whole lot of sense: pray that truth and righteousness will be delicious to you, so you’ll recognize and embrace them.

Developing a taste for truth and righteousness might be one of the most valuable spiritual gifts—up there with healing and discernment. I do seek for truth. I do find it delicious, satisfying, when I find it. I pray that I will always be blessed with that gift; I intend to live in a way that makes it likely. For the sake of our world, I pray that everyone develops a taste for truth and righteousness.