to update our beliefs. Now I’ve piled on by telling you that being smart
doesn’t help—and can make it worse.
The good news starts here.
Wanna bet?
Imagine taking part in a conversation with a friend about the movie Citizen Kane. Best film of all time, introduced a bunch of new techniques by which directors could contribute to storytelling. “Obviously, it won the best- picture Oscar,” you gush, as part of a list of superlatives the film
unquestionably deserves.
Then your friend says, “Wanna bet?”
Suddenly, you’re not so sure. That challenge puts you on your heels, causing you to back off your declaration and question the belief that you just declared with such assurance. When someone challenges us to bet on a belief, signaling their confidence that our belief is inaccurate in some way, ideally it triggers us to vet the belief, taking an inventory of the evidence that informed us.
How do I know this?
Where did I get this information?
Who did I get it from?
What is the quality of my sources?
How much do I trust them?
How up to date is my information?
How much information do I have that is relevant to the belief?
What other things like this have I been confident about that turned out not to be true?
What are the other plausible alternatives?
What do I know about the person challenging my belief?
What is their view of how credible my opinion is?
What do they know that I don’t know?
What is their level of expertise?
What am I missing?
Remember the order in which we form abstract beliefs:
1. We hear something; 2. We believe it; 3. Only sometimes, later, if we have the time or the inclination, we think about it and vet it, determining whether or not it is true.
“Wanna bet?” triggers us to engage in that third step that we only sometimes get to. Being asked if we are willing to bet money on it makes it much more likely that we will examine our information in a less biased way, be more honest with ourselves about how sure we are of our beliefs, and be more open to updating and calibrating our beliefs. The more objective we are, the more accurate our beliefs become. And the person who wins bets over the long run is the one with the more accurate beliefs.
Of course, in most instances, the person offering to bet isn’t actually looking to put any money on it. They are just making a point—a valid point that perhaps we overstated our conclusion or made our statement without including relevant caveats. Most people aren’t like poker players, around whom there is always the potential that someone might propose a bet and they will mean it.
Next thing you know, someone moves to Des Moines and there’s $30,000 at stake.
It’s a shame the social contract for poker players is so different than for the rest of us in this regard because a lot of good can result from someone saying, “Wanna bet?” Offering a wager brings the risk out in the open, making explicit what is already implicit (and frequently overlooked). The more we recognize that we are betting on our beliefs (with our happiness, attention, health, money, time, or some other limited resource), the more we are likely to temper our statements, getting closer to the truth as we acknowledge the risk inherent in what we believe.
Expecting everyone starting to throw the gauntlet down, challenging each other to bet on any opinion, is impractical if you aren’t hanging out in a poker room. (Even in poker rooms, this generally happens only among players who know each other well.) I imagine that if you went around challenging everyone with “Wanna bet?” it would be difficult to make