A Dendron of the Eschaton

A Dendron of the Eschaton

Let me sprout again; my leaves will be rife

Every leaf that I fly is a banner of life

They’ll shoot out on fingers that point up at God

Every spring I’ll unfurl, waiting

My greens will sing songs and my roots will tap taps

They will dance through the earth while humans take naps

While their young view their visions and elders dream dreams

I will search in the humus, waiting

The worms of the summer may pierce all my leaves

My blood may be drunk up by little green thieves

I will groan with them, as they weep honeydew

And together we’ll hope, waiting

 

Scaffolds

Music is an odd creature.  Its effect doesn’t welcome analysis. As with a pet dog the emotional animal that rises in us loses something important upon dissection.  To want someone else to feel a special song like you do is a delicate thing. One can play the song, and with detachment let the person make of it what they will. To push much further, even to verbalize the feeling, is to get a little naked. I suppose artists must build callouses against the emotional exposure.

I’m going to cut the dog.

I appreciate the song “Unless I’m Led” by Mates of State (1). Pitchfork singles it out as a low point in the album, calling it “a bit too maudlin even for the Mates” (2). And “maudlin” it may be; as far as I reckon from the lyrics, the song reflects on experiencing frustrating emotional needs, doomed relationships and breakups. What can I say? I have maudlin tastes.

Artistic expression is evocative by nature, and I find this piece clearly evokes an aura of emotionally rich reminiscence. I bet that this much is actually communicated: that the artists meant to evoke something like that, and that listeners reliably tend to receive something along those lines. But then sometimes when I’ve listened to the song, It’s evoked something more:  I experience a celebration of life, brining inspiration to live out the time given to me with fullness and gratitude.

I think I might like a fig leaf now. Did the artists intend that flavor of inspiration? Maybe but I doubt it. And should it matter? I doubt the reviewer from Pitchfork experienced much along those lines. Is it a legitimate hearing of the song? And supposing they didn’t have this inspiration in mind, should the artists behind the song be credited as a source of this inspiration?

Maybe one of the roles of art is open-ended. Asking a great question can yield responses in another that the asker did not anticipate. The one who responds may learn and articulate something that the asker doesn’t understand. And yet the asker deserves some credit for the artfulness of the question. Like questions waiting to be asked, maybe we each have unique spirits waiting to get stirred. Each is a potential that takes on form when called.

~~~~~~~~~~

I took a class once on tissue engineering. We learned about scaffolds. Suppose a piece of tissue is missing: a big piece of bone was removed, or the spinal cord broke, and the gap is too big for the body to fill on its own. Scaffolds in this context are materials that engineer re-growth.  They give cells colonizing the area something to hold on to, direction on where to go, and a cell’s equivalent of comfort and reassurance. The scaffolds temporarily fill the gap. Your body fills in the blanks with the goods. And then, when the new tissue is ready, a good scaffold fades away, leaving only healed tissue behind.

Some art is a scaffold for the heart. Or the gut. For feelings and intuitions and values, and seeds that sprout those things that need some soil. The artist experiences a gap in themself and fills it with a creation- something dead per se but hospitable to a certain sort of life. The artist hands the creation off to others, who colonize the scaffold with a little piece of themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~

I think poetry can do this. Many other writings really don’t:  they mean one precise thing and if you hear something else, you’re mistaken. If the text encouraged you in that, it’s to the writer’s discredit. I believe there’s a legitimate place for both types of writing.

Some writings aren’t easy to put in one box or the other. Take the American Constitution for instance. I haven’t studied legal theory, so take my speculations with a grain of salt. From what I can tell, some people believe upholding it means strict adherence to the particular notions that the authors had in mind as best as those notions can be discerned from what they wrote. Others take it as more of a projection of general values that can be adapted to our context in ways that may diverge from the authors’ personal notions at the time but (in theory) embrace the spirit of what those authors were pursuing in the constitution.

Scripture, it seems to me, often functions along these lines. Believers look for, find and mediate on ideas perceived in scripture that resonate with our deep intuitions and values. We tend to seek ways to interpret texts so that they are at peace with those intuitions and values rather than accepting interpretations in which we smell any hint of ignorance, folly or vice.  For instance, in this age we refuse to believe God endorses racism, bigotry, and the denigration of women. Most of us resist believing God teaches things that clearly contradict our understanding of nature and history, or recommends observably dysfunctional ways of thinking and making decisions, even when our sacred texts could easily be interpreted in those ways, even when perhaps they have been interpreted in those ways by many people for a long time.

Our predispositions shape what we see, but what was there in the text already also spurs us on, inspires us and directs our values and intuitions to develop in certain ways instead of others. We may wrestle with a passage that at first seems to demean women. After thinking and talking and reading about it we may then come to interpret it as meaning something different at second blush, something actually honoring and empowering women in a counterintuitive way—a way we hadn’t thought of before. So the words of the text, as well as the interpretations of those who came before us, shape our interpretation… but part of why we find what we do, part of the very thing we see is the body of values and perspectives that we ourselves bring, values that colonize the words on the page and are oriented and perhaps transformed by those words.

This is part of what happens, and I believe it happens in all believers to some degree. Still, some people probably don’t try to attend to their sense of goodness in this way when interpreting their scriptures. Fear of putting our own words in God’s mouth may hold us back. Some parts of the Bible are meant to be more dynamically evocative in their interpretation than others. Personally sometimes I accept interpretations that chafe against my intuitions of what is good.

In texts that are hybrids between evocative scaffold and explicit, instructive communication, disagreements about interpretation seem inevitable.  Many of us will make innocent mistakes. But we may also take the opportunity to deceive ourselves about the intent of the text.

We may also each form views that resonate appropriately with the text but contradict each other for other reasons. In science this seems to happen sometimes with our theories about physical reality: like how Newtonian physics is basically true and useful for our normal circumstances, but amounts to a simplification of reality that doesn’t apply to stuff that moves really fast. Yet teaching kids Newtonian physics is perfectly appropriate. I’m not sure how much it actually happened, but it’s easy to imagine one set of scientists arguing that light essentially consists of particles, and another saying that no, it really consists of waves. Maybe God paints us metaphors in the Bible’s teaching that can be integrated with our extra-Biblical perspectives in multiple appropriate ways, despite the apparent contradictions that may result.

I don’t know how far to go with this in my dealings with the Bible. There are still issues concerning which I don’t know how to reconcile my own sense of what’s good with my reading of the Bible in a way that I trust. These thoughts are part of me searching for solutions rather than the solutions themselves. I welcome your thoughts and reactions.

(1)    For lyrics: www.songmeanings.net/songs/view/3530822107858889505/

Music video:  www.stereogum.com/1027451/mates-of-state-unless-im-led/video/

(2) pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/15787-mates-of-state-mountaintops/

i told me so: self-deception and the christian life ( Part 2: the positive part)

So the human race is massively self-deceived and now perhaps you have a better sense of how we pull it off. This by itself is in a sense more of the same. We've long known we had a problem. What's more, anyone who’s taken a class in social psychology (or probably, for that matter, Psych 101) has seen numerous studies revealing the biases and frailties of the human heart and mind. What we don’t get as often when hearing about the research is insight into a constructive response to our situation. This is yet another feature of Ten Elshof’s book for which I’m grateful.

Giving self-deception a demotion

Awareness of self-deception is not new to the Christian tradition. By Ten Elshof’s analysis, we actually used to pay it more attention, not so much because it was particularly reviled per se as that it could be a door to more serious vices. But a funny thing happened. With the rise of existentialist philosophy, personal authenticity became a more important virtue in western culture than it once was. It still rises: my generation seems to place a higher premium than do our elders on being genuine and true to one’s self. This is born out in (unreferenced) studies Ten Elshof cites where people were asked to list their top 5 qualities needed to be a good leader: those over 50 put competence at the top. College-aged people said authenticity was most important. One might say authenticity implies a type of integrity pervading the whole person. Self-deception in contrast would constitute a fundamental breach of inner integrity, where self lies to self (or so I interpret Ten Elhsof's connection).   So when authenticity rose in the ranks of virtues, self-deception naturally attained a more detested status in our cultural ranking of vices.

People don’t have a big problem admitting they’re racists in a culture where racism isn’t thought to be a big deal. But when, as in a culture like ours, racism becomes socially unacceptable, one starts to find it difficult to find people who admit to the vice—even to themselves—even when a lot of racism is still happening. In the same way, now that we revile self-deception so much, we’re less inclined to admit to seriously entertain the possibility that we might be self-deceived. Do you see what’s going on here? We Self-deceive ourselves that we’re not self-deceived, recklessly ignoring the very thing we fear for the very reason that we fear it so much.

Ten Elshof’s solution to this ironic ball of cobwebs fights irony with irony: we must give self-deception a demotion. If we can comfortably accept and perhaps even appreciate our self-deceptive inclinations, it will be easier to notice and correct them when they become harmful.

This assumes that there really is something to be appreciated in our self-deceptive tendencies, something truly good and not just agreeable. I found this an interesting thought but needed convincing. What could be redeeming about our self-deceptive inclinations?

1.       Misfiring mechanisms

Some of the abilities that enable our self-deception are essentially great capabilities:

A.      We should be grateful for our ability to temporarily suspend the question of truth through perspective switching:

     a.       The ability to switch perspectives enables empathy. Seeing things empathetically from an offender’s perspective (however distorted their perspective really is) also helps one forgive the person.

     b.      Taking unrealistic perspectives also enables us to enjoy fiction, which in turn often enriches us with its message.

B.      Attention management is a necessary skill. For example, we need to be able to block out most of the stimuli of traffic in order to focus on driving safely. And by, for example, funneling you attention onto a friend while having a conversation in a restaurant, you show love and respect.

C.      Procrastination has its uses. Sometimes we save ourselves (and others) trouble and embarrassment by not acting on impulse in our moments of conviction. Sleeping on a big decision can likewise help us make wise choices and see things we wouldn’t otherwise have seen.

2.       Embracing hope when hope is slim

People in a cancer ward who the statistics predict will probably die nevertheless believe they will be the exceptions who survive. Perhaps they have an expectant hope that God physically heals in response to their prayers, despite that most of those dead statistics prayed to be healed too. A lot of them even did it with expectant hope. Generally people don’t discourage these patients from their hopes despite that they tend to involve a certain dose of unrealistic expectations. To ferret out all that is unreal in such hopes doesn’t actually seem like the right thing to do. And in fact, those who have hope, even those who believe they will get better against the odds, thereby actually face better chances, even if still not as good of chances as they envision.

It’s arguably good at times for friends and family to embrace such hope, not just the one who needs healing. An addict trying to quit who has failed repeatedly also needs to believe that this time she will succeed. Maybe it’s good for her friends to also push aside the evidence of all the times she’s failed in the past and hope along with her. The social support in such hope makes the thing hoped for more possible. Results aside, it’s also an expression of love.

3.       Grace to self

Jesus warned about “throwing our pearls to swine”: sharing certain truths with people who are not in a position to receive them well. This isn't necessarily as mean as it sounds. A wise counselor is gracious not only in tone but in timing. In the Bible, on Mount Sinai God shields Moses from a full perception of God’s person because frankly the whole picture would have killed Moses. Sometimes we’re not ready to handle the fullness of the truth.

When we’re not ready to deal with some aspect of reality, self-deception can help us pace ourselves. As we become ready to deal with the full truth, we may obscure true things from ourselves when it’s not yet helpful to have those facts confront us.

Suppose you see a friend’s teenage son involved in something sad that you feel this friend should know about—perhaps, for example you see the boy dealing drugs. You call the friend up to break the news. But when you make the call and ask how he’s doing, he says his wife just left him for another man, and he’s had suicidal thoughts. At this point, I’m guessing you probably don’t tell him about his son, and if he asks why you called, you conceal your original reason, right? Because this just isn’t the time for him to have to cope with this type of fact. In some circumstances, some truths can be life-destroying. Perhaps God has graciously enabled us to avoid facing certain truths for just this sort of reason. We can be as gracious with ourselves as we ought to be with others, practicing discretion as to when painful truths ought to be unveiled.

Thus, Ten Elshof contends that God designed us to have a capacity for self-deception.  If we can agree to this, there will be less shame in recognizing that we are in fact self-deceived.

Clearly though, self-deception is often not our friend. So what further steps can we take when it’s not helping us?

1. Die
Die to the sins that hold you (which motivate the self-deception in order to perpetuate themselves). This is a mandatory part of following Jesus. Put into action some realistic plan to crucify the sin. For instance: Confess a secret sin to loving friends, telling them the whole truth as best you can. Declare your intention to put it to death. Seek counsel from someone who’s found their way out of your situation: get their advice on what to do. Do it, and when (as will probably happen) you fail, confess your failure, consider if you can refine (or must rethink) your strategy, and keep going, remembering God’s persisting love for you. As with other dying things, if the sin is dying it should become apparent with time.

2.  Groups without Groupthink
Groupthink tends to happen when people of a group already enjoy a common set of biases and let a culture preside where it’s uncomfortable to seriously question the favorite perspective. So if we want to guard against groupthink, we must instead cultivate safe communities of united disagreement. Such groups pursue diversity, preserving theological and sociopolitical differences without setting them aside. They pursue meaningful dialog and through it have hope of progress toward the truth. In this sort of group the grace of Christ pervades and draws us together enough that we don’t feel a need to vindicate our existing views or run from disagreement. Discovering we’re wrong is cause for celebration. With a group like this, it becomes difficult to vilify liberals or conservatives, Reformed, Lutherans or Mennonites—not because of some standard of political correctness or fear of conflict but because we share our lives with them and have come to respect them as people.

3.  The Community of the Holy Spirit
Christians believe we’re inhabited by a being who understands exactly what goes on in our heads and hearts, loves us always, is the definition of wisdom and is constantly available for a constructive relationship. Who better than the Spirit of God to help us out of our self-deceptive strategies? For many of us though (me, often) the doctrine of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit can seem like mystical words that don't pan out to mean anything practical in real life.

As in other relationships, our relationship with him will be most fruitful if we make an effort to pursue that relationship. God generally doesn’t force himself on people. Cultivating our bond with him takes attention. Ten Elshof cites the way that in his relationship with his wife, writing letters to her reflecting in detail on his positive experience of her presence and love actually does as much for him as it does for her. Along these lines, if we want to take advantage of our privilege, we should:

1) Make an effort to be available, scheduling time with God.
2) Reflect in detail on our experience of being God’s beloved.
3) Stick with it for the long haul.Most things worthwhile take a while to yield most of the fruit promised.

Certain topics of inquiry, self-deception among them, carry inherent risks. So Ten Elshof concludes with three warnings:

1)      Beware of hyper-authenticity. By this, he means that expressing whatever you feel at a given time isn’t always a great idea. For instance, a waiter in a bad mood who freely expresses the mood through his service, traipsing about his labors with an unhappy expression and complaining from time to time, isn’t being  a good waiter.

Christians are called to a lifestyle of imitating Jesus. We bless those we feel like cursing. We behave generously when we’re feeling selfish. We contradict our own impulses in order to be re-trained and transformed into the people we’re meant to become.

2)      Beware of undue suspicion of self-deception in others. Often we come away from sermons thinking about the people we feel could have learned something in some area of deficiency had they been there, despite that in theory we should be focusing on learning something ourselves. There’s the same tension here. 

      Thinking about self-deception in others can actually work into a self-deceptive strategy for ourselves: Why would Sarah not see the truth as I do? She must be self-deceived! Now I can comfortably disregard her perspective. Far be it from me to actually take her thoughts seriously or even become convinced that she might have a point!

What’s more, there’s rarely much we can do about other people’s self-deception. If Alex is deceiving himself, he’s probably not ready to see the whole truth, and will probably shrug it off (or worse) if you point it out to him. On the other hand, if he is ready to come to terms with reality, he’s probably transitioning out of the self-deception on his own.

There are exceptions; this book hopes to encourage us to create communities where self-deception can be openly addressed. But such situations require a mutual invitation to help in that way, and this invitation is usually limited to a small number of people.

3)      Beware of undue self-doubt. Too much worry about self-deception can paralyze a person and keep them from acting on their convictions. Kids may go through a phase of getting their parents’ oppinions on every little choice before they can forward with confidence. But as they mature, they should grow out of this, and parents may refrain from commenting on questions that don’t seriously endanger the kid so that the child learns to take responsibility. Similarly, we may want God’s stamp of approval on everything we do, but often he doesn’t tell us what to do, letting us learn from our mistakes and grow up. 

So there you have it: I Told Me So (at least as interpreted by Tom). What do you make of the book?

Well what do I make of it? Certainly I'm grateful. I felt like this was a book I had vaguely hoped to write someday when I'm a professor of something, but now don't get to / have to, as Gregg Ten Elshof did a wonderful job.

Do I disagree anywhere? I'm not sure. I find his "strange celebration" of self-deception audacious and refreshing. But I'm not sure I go as far as it seems he might: Usually I hope for ways to productively direct focus without all-out believing falsehoods. I don't find that duplicitous even if it's not always truth-seeking either. If I were wasting away from a fatal disease, I think I would still like to face up to the statistics and encourage my family and friends do that too. But the idea wouldn't be to despair of hope. No, I like to think I would pursue a nuanced, informed type of hope. Is that necessary for everyone? I believe it's virtuous to seek that sort of hope, but that the virtue of an accurate understanding being integrated into hope often ranks rather low in priority: I would salute cancer victims who reckon the difficult facts into their ways of hoping, but wouldn't be too bothered by the ones who opt for a simpler hope. Perhaps someone reading this who has more familiarity than me with the process of dying cares to comment.

I appreciate the notion that it is God's gift to us that we can pace ourselves in our apprehension of difficult realities. I think sometimes this subconscious pursuit of willful ignorance can actually be a tool in making learning more effective: drinking from a firehose can knock you off balance, and you might hit your head in the process-- too many troublesome facts can lead to emotional storms that frustrate one's attempt to cope with and integrate the information in a healthy and balanced way.

Ten Elshof used a lot of examples of self-deception from Christians engaged in apologetics (and with good reason, I would say). My own intellectual doubts about God's reality and the truth of the Christian worldveiw come to mind in when reflecting on my experiences of self-deception. I believe I've tried to face lots of hard questions without settling on easy answers, but with a bias favoring Christian influences and a fair amount of "pacing myself" with the information I face. I suppose I'm not the one to judge how faithful I've been to the information before me in how I've modeled my worldview. But I think I could have done worse: I could have fled doubt. To do that I think I would have had to practice more pro-Christian self deception to cling to my beliefs. From where I stand, that sounds like a path of hypocrisy, given that as one who would seek to spread God's good news about Jesus I would in some cases be inviting others to open their eyes to the truth of God in front of them, when I've squeezed my eyes shut to any serious possibility that truths to the contrary are waiting in front of me.

On the other hand, without some attention management, procrastination and the like, I think I might have fallen into depression. I bet I would not have been so able to explore the junction between faith and doubt and whether a nuanced faith could meet my challenges. I have a feeling that whether in response to the fire hose I left the faith, or shut down the doubt program to return to option A (assuming there wasn't a neat victory for the Christian worldview), or languished on the fence, I might have been plagued by guilty "what if"s from one angle or another: Have I sold my integrity? Have I forsaken God (who might be real after all)?  Have I hamstrung my ability to do good things with my life by getting mired in this?

 Ten Elshof's solutions to self-deception aren't all that easy, are they? Church in Protestant America doesn't seem to be a place where we normally attain "united disagreement"."Divided agreement" is more our specialty. Mos people gravitate toward people like us, don't we? And when we do have diverse perspectives in a group, don't we usually avoid topics of contention? That or one side speaks while the other stays quiet. Finding accountability in dying to sin also feels hard to achieve.

i told me so: self-deception and the christian life

I Told Me So: Self-deception and the Christian life

Consider: Based on surveys…

·         94% of professors think they’re doing an above-average job.

·         100% of high-school seniors thought they were above average in terms of ability to get along.

·          60% estimated they were in the top 10%, and 25% estimated they were in the top 1%. 

What do you make of this? Is it a problem? Is it helpful to know?

It looks as if we are deluded about ourselves. I do find it pleasant to feel smart by quoting studies. But is there anything constructive we can do with this awareness? In I Told Me So: Self-deception and the Christian life, Gregg Ten Elshof offers help both with understanding the problem and responding appropriately. I’m especially pleased that the book is oriented toward Christians. Self-deception can make a farce of spiritual development. I think it's quite rampant in the church, and we’re more likely to listen to correction when it comes from someone we're inclined to trust.

Here's the picture that Ten Elshof draws:

I like having a high opinion of myself. Earning the self-image I crave can be tough. So life offers me a deal: there are ways to believe I’ve earned that high opinion without putting in the work to actually earn it. In other words, cheat. Similar deals are available for securing other kinds of agreeable beliefs. Whatever the payoff, in order to successfully execute the deal, I can’t catch myself in the act. Most people tend to take the deal. If I take the deal, it will seem (as it does in fact seem) as if I hadn’t.

Is it not impressive that this deal works? What arsenal of self-deceptive strategies makes it possible?

Attention Management: Filling your consciousness with arguments for what you already believe (or want to believe), or focusing on tearing down opposing arguments, yet believing you are seeking to understand the truth of the matter.

Example: Ashley, a Christian, reads lots of Christian apologetic literature, and loves the arguments she finds there. She doesn’t read much atheist literature or apologetics from other religions. When she does, she focuses on finding weaknesses in their arguments. Ashley feels that through all this reading, she has pursued the truth and come out with a justified confidence in the rational superiority of the Christian worldview.

Procrastination: When you believe there is something you ought to do or choose, but would rather not do it, delaying the choice – often with the effect that later on, what seemed right at the time becomes easier to ignore. 

Example: An organization gives a presentation in church, and Gregg feels he ought to give to their cause. But instead of giving there and then, he tells himself he’ll go home and research them online, look at his finances and then probably give even more generously than he would have done on the spot. The cause then loses urgency, and he never does that research nor gives any money.

Perspective switching: Choosing to see a situation from somebody else’s perspective when their perspective is more agreeable than your own.

Example: David orchestrates the premature death of Uriah so he can marry the man’s wife. The deed is played out such that it looks like Uriah was merely a casualty of war. David chooses to think of Uriah’s death as more of a convenient casualty than a murder, and goes on living without feeling morally troubled until Nathan calls him out on what he has done.

Rationalization: Constructing a rational justification for a behavior, decision, or belief arrived at in some other way – fictitious because the rational justification played no causal roll in the behavior.

Example 1: A Christian mortgage broker implicitly encourages his clients to lie about their income on their applications. The true reason that the broker really does this is that it is standard practice and seems like the only way to support his family in his line of work. But he rationalizes that the lie is really his just client’s responsibility and anyway leads to a win-win situation for both the client who wants the loan and the bank that wants to give it.

Example 2: Ed goes to an apologetics class marketed with the phrase “Find out WHY you believe what you believe”. Really Ed believes what he does because his authorities told him it was true and it just feels right in his gut. But subconsciously somehow this doesn’t seem to him like a good enough reason for belief-- certainly he doesn't want to tell his non-Christian friends that. Ed will convince himself and proclaim to others that these rational arguments are why he believes the Christian message despite that in reality they play no causative role in his faith.

Ressentiment: Changing your feelings, values or judgments to escape coming to terms with a disagreeable situation. Ten Elshof describes three types of ressentiment:

1.       Scorn for an unavailable good

Example 1A: Aesop’s fable of the fox and the sour grapes. (After unsuccessfully trying to grab a high-hanging cluster of grapes, the fox decides they were probably sour anyway.)

Example 1B: Gregg, who doesn’t have lots of money, drives an old clunker. He praises the benefits of this situation: he doesn’t have to worry about it getting scratched, stolen or mistreated. Insurance costs less. He’s less susceptible to materialistic vanity. He tells himself he really prefers driving the old car. But when his parents offer to pass on to him a much newer and nicer vehicle, he happily accepts.

Example 1C: Around the beginning of the 20^th century, ideas began being taught in the universities that many felt threatened the plausibility of the tenants of Christian orthodoxy, making it more difficult for a lot of conservative Christians to stay fully engaged in the intellectual scene. Anti-intellectualism then grew among them, sometimes displayed through outright distrust of higher education.

2.       Pushing the unavailable good to the edges of consciousness by super-valuing something else

Example 2: In the situation of example 1C, other Christians effectively discredited the value of the life of the mind by way of emphasizing the importance of faith and the heart (which of course were appropriate values).

3.       Identifying an unacceptable sentiment as something else

Example 3A: Ashley is angry with Jennifer, but casts it as being “concerned for her” or “sad about what she’s doing”. Admitting anger might imply that Ashley hasn’t forgiven Jennifer, which would be unacceptable as a Christian.

Example 3B: Chris is envious of Mike’s fancy new TV, but spins his feelings as being concerned that the TV will be unhealthy for Mike and his family.

Perhaps you’ve noticed that often self-deception is evident on the outside. If I wanted to stop deceiving myself, could it not be as easy as asking for an honest assessment from a friend? Sometimes. But often the people around us are complicit in our self-deceptive strategies. These tend to be one form or another of groupthink.

Groupthink: Stifling a group’s capacity for critical thinking and careful decision-making due to a value of conformity or harmony. As defined by psychologist Irving Janis, groupthink is characterized by eight symptoms: an Illusion of invulnerability, collective rationalization, a belief in inherent morality (ignoring ethical consequences because the group’s cause is right) , stereotyped views of out-groups, direct pressure on dissenters, self-censorship (a reluctance to voice doubts or reservations), an illusion of unanimity, and self-appointed “mind guards” (people who keep the leader from being bothered by problematic information). In Janis’s analysis, numerous US foreign policy disasters were largely a result of groupthink, including the US failure to anticipate the Japanese assault on Pearl Harbor, President Johnson’s involvement in the Vietnam war, and the failed US invasion of Cuba known as the Bay of Pigs Incident.

Manifestation 1: Corporate Groupthink: Often subordinates wish to ingratiate themselves to their leader, and this leads to a pressure toward conformity. The conformity pressure in turn means everyone goes along with the boss’s favorite picture. The group then backfires: instead of being an engine of critical thinking producing a fuller picture on which to base better decisions, the group reinforces the leader’s blindspots, making him more confident in whatever half-baked idea he might pursue.

Manifestation 2: The Game of Happy Family: Sometimes the members of a family (loosely defined) cooperate to keep certain things hidden from themselves. Psychiatrist R. D. Laing characterized this group-level deception as employing the following rules:

Rule A: Don’t.

Rule A.1: Rule A does not exist.

Rule A.2: Do not discuss the existence or nonexistence of Rules A, A.1, or A.2

Example A: An alcoholic father is abusive to his family. The family members systematically ignore the evidence of the problem, and do not hint of its existence to each other. When the problem finally gets dealt with, the victims are astounded at what they experienced but disregarded.

Example B: In a prosperous American church, though tithing is encouraged, nobody usually raises the question of whether there’s a moral problem with Christians (who can afford these things) buying nice cars, fine food, new appliances or making large expenditures on entertainment.

Rule A: Don’t question the moral legitimacy of buying a new BMW.

Rule A.1: Rule A does not exist.

Rule A.2: Do not discuss the existence or nonexistence of Rules A, A.1, or A.2

Sometimes a member returning from a short-term mission trip to a developing country may become troubled about these questions and wonder why nobody else seems to be. But typically in time they readjust, become comfortable again and make no long-term changes in their lifestyle.

 In contrast, people of various different social strata often feel morally queasy about the exorbitant materialistic lifestyle of those in the next stratum up.  Jesus’ warnings about having your heart carried away by wealth may ring true when one imagines those richer people, but not in one’s own life.

So what can we do about all this? My next blog will explore Ten Elshof's positive suggestions.