The Positive Side of Dunning-Kruger

- 'Be More Dog'!

I have become more reflective as I’ve got older. Perhaps this is a common facet of age; perhaps a feature of my own character. Nevertheless, I find myself observing the behaviour of others and comparing it to behaviours I’ve witnessed in the past. Will my conclusions for the earlier example hold true this time?

Or will I be given yet another Life Lesson?

If you sense a scintilla of irritation in that last sentence, it reflects a certain weariness that, for the umpteenth time, I might be faced with something I recognise and therefore, at least to some extent, I expect to understand.

But no. Often, my assessment of similarity or at least, comparability proves useless. Things turn out quite differently. The behaviour expected might be the reverse of what I experience.

Many of you will have heard of the Dunning Kruger Effect. Back in 1999, two American psychologists, David Dunning and Justin Kruger produced a study of the cognitive bias of individuals whose assessment of their ability in a particular skill exceeded their objective, measured performance. Such people overestimated their abilities. They and others wondered why this occurred.

I now remember instances which I found infuriating at the time. For example, when I worked as a banker, I visited North American financial institutions hoping to persuade them to enter into various financial structures with my bank. I recall a junior member of one potential customer had attended a half-day course on the theory of Interest Rate Swaps. She was bursting to tell me this and to exercise her new-found knowledge. My own grasp of the topic was sufficient to unearth an opportunity for my trader colleagues, but fell far short of being able to craft a transaction with live prices in the market. Her shortcomings were obvious to me. Yet our discussion that day did nothing to dull her conviction that she could henceforth sit at a trading desk and trade away merrily.

It isn’t just ‘other people’ who experience this, though. I realise with a tiny stab of guilt that if asked how good a driver I think I am, I’d have replied confidently that I am far above average. I’d search for data to support my assertion: I used to teach Advanced Driving; I haven’t crashed a car since… gosh, I can’t remember. I haven’t needed to claim insurance since… Yet most of us would make the same reply. We cannot all be ‘better than average’! And even if, logically, we felt the response to be boastful, we’d still secretly think we are better than most people. And deflect the enquiry with undue modesty instead.

Humility compels me to cite yet another way of describing the way humans view their own abilities. I say ‘humility’, because one Martin Broadwell described the ‘four levels of teaching’ 30 years before Dunning and Kruger published their paper. Others took up his idea and it is now known as the Four Stages of Knowledge. It’s usually described as a straight line progression:

1.       Unconscious Incompetence (you don’t know you can’t do something until alerted to the fact).

2.       Conscious Incompetence. (Ok – now you know you can’t do something. So you take lessons).

3.       Unconscious Competence (Hey – you can do this thing, but aren’t aware of it).

4.       Conscious Competence (Perhaps someone congratulates you for being able to do something. You bask in a cloud of adulation).

I’m sorry to report that I have observed this Knowledge Progression isn’t a straight line.

It’s a circle.

From stage 4 (Conscious Competence), you may slip, inexorably into stage 1 again. Something or someone brings you up short one day because your comfortable, competent existence has sprung a leak. The world moves on. Your expertise in VHS tape recording isn’t relevant any more.

Donald Rumsfeld, former U.S. Secretary of State, was on to something when he spoke at length in February, 2002 about the lack of evidence linking the Iraqi Government with weapons of mass-destruction. He described three categories of knowledge – ‘Known Knowns’ (things we are aware we know); ‘Known Unknowns’ (things we are aware we do not know) and the trickiest of all, the ‘Unknown Unknowns’ – which are the areas of ignorance of which we are not aware. It is this last category that interested the psychologists I mentioned above.

But I would segment the Unknown Unknowns further. It’s to do with one’s own approach to Life. As my own Life Experience has accumulated, I’ve been faced with unexpected obstacles so often, I have come to expect some challenge to come out of nowhere in almost everything I do. This change in approach doesn’t dull my enthusiasm for the New Thing. But I am no longer surprised when it proceeds in a radically different direction. That initial plan has to be flexible. There are those who stick immutably and stubbornly to The Plan. And those who adapt to changed circumstances.

There are many maxims in the Army such as, ‘If you fail to prepare you are preparing to fail.’ But the corollary is, ‘Few, if any, plans survive initial contact with the enemy.’ The boxer, Mike Tyson, had a more succinct version when replying to a reporter asking if he had a plan to defeat Evander Holyfield. He said ‘Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth’.

Some of the most exciting experiences I’ve had over the last half century have happened to me unexpectedly – I didn’t prepare for them or seek them out. Indeed, I wasn’t even aware of their existence. More than once, my plan, such as it was, proved inadequate and I had to adapt to circumstances I hadn’t predicted. I think of the secessionist rebellion and encounters with gun-runners in the New Hebrides; Islamic terrorists in the Middle East, money-launderers in New York and thieves who were after some intellectual property in the UK and Turkey. I have written about them in my ‘Al Sharika’ series of books. (See www.richardsextonbooks.com)

I claimed above that my history of having obstacles emerge unexpectedly hasn’t dulled my enthusiasm for new projects. Some learned folks who have studied the Dunning-Kruger and subsequent papers conclude such persistent optimism may be a human characteristic for survival. After all, how would any of mankind’s achievements been made if the Team sat around in a Slough of Despond (apologies to John Bunyan) moaning? Better to accept what has happened and to figure out a way around it. Look forwards with joy – perhaps gritted teeth too, but always expecting to improve your situation. Find some contentment whatever you do, whatever emerges to thwart your progress.

So I return to my sub-title for this piece and the full title for an earlier work, in June – I exhort you all to ‘Be More Dog’!

Happy Dog running fast