Thank You For Screaming, Part II

I have some bad news for you today. I'm very sorry to be the one who has to break the news to you, but here it is: You're wrong about most things.

Oh, I know, there's a big category of stuff you're not wrong about. Like what city you live in. And where the grocery stores are near your house. And what your kids' name are. You've got that stuff under control.

But there's a whole collection of stuff in which you don't know your ass from your elbow. Like political views, religious views, moral views, opinions on how to parent, teach, be a good friend, and manage your life. I'm really very sorry, but you just don't know nearly as much as you think you do on these topics. I don't either.

I've learnt something over the last couple of years, mainly from studying chess and in my job programming computers, and that is the importance of testing. When you're trying to figure out how something will work, most things are just really, really complicated. You're not going to figure them out just by thinking; you're only going to figure them out by testing.

I slowly became convinced of this as I went through software project after software project and observed two things:

• The project always takes way more time than you estimate.
• The problems that arise during the project are never the ones you predict.

Similarly, as I studied chess positions, I noticed that the solutions given by the author almost always include new wrinkles that I hadn't anticipated.

I became quite impressed with the intrinsic complexity of these types of problems, and how invariably the failures of the project planning or the chess position-solving could only be uncovered by watching the systems fail and observing where the problems were, and never by just "thinking it through".

Intrigued, I observed everyday life and observed the same types of things:

• People tend to be right about stuff that gets regularly tested.
• People tend to be wrong about stuff that they just think through, without either the opportunity or interest in testing whether it's right or not.

So when you think you know what city you live in, you're right. You test it all the time. If you were wrong, you'd find out right away when you couldn't find your house.

But questions of the philosophical sort are typically untestable, and I'm convinced we're generally wrong about the things we tend to believe. For instance:

• Is it a good idea to try to cure cancer? To donate money to starving countries? Yes! Of course! Or, maybe, do we risk overpopulation by doing so? What's the risk to the environment? What kind of crazy socio-policital chain reactions could we be setting off? I have no idea.
• Is it a good idea to have freedom of speech? Sounds like a good idea. Who knows what the consequences are? Are the countries with fewer civil liberties happier? They have lower suicide rates. I have no idea.

I haven't tested it. I just don't know. And if you haven't done extensive research, you don't either. Even if you have, you still don't know. You have a slightly better guess.

Anyhow, all this comes to one final example; something that gets tested everyday, and has totally the opposite answer to what you'd expect.

When The Superhero gets mad and yells at me, how does it affect the interaction? Our day? Our marriage?

Totally for the better, on all counts. Who would have thought? Not me.

It diffuses the fight; beforehand it's resentment in The Superhero's head. The yelling lets it out. And it makes me laugh. I have no explanation for this. It's complicated! That's why you must test stuff! The laughter diffused the situation. The Superhero feels loved, relaxed, and much better off than before.

The unexpected laughter is not short-lived. If I was grumpy before, it cheers me up. My day gets brigher. Totally unexpected. But true.

Furthermore, it has a wonderful effect on our marriage. I never have to worry that I'm walking on The Superhero and she isn't telling me. I know if she's upset she'll let me know and stand up for herself. No long-term resentment.

Overall the yelling is a great thing, and nobody would have guessed.

This, in addition to the unexpected benefits of Twin B's shrieking? Mind-boggling, but true.

Where would I be if I didn't have such a charming family full of people to yell at me?