The Paradox of Persuasion
The paradox of tolerance meets its new friend.
1. The Paradoxes
The Paradox of Tolerance—first introduced by that brilliant old geezer of Karl Popper—suggests that if a society adopts a policy of unlimited tolerance, it risks its own destruction by allowing intolerant ideologies to spread unchecked. Of course, this isn't actually some mind-bending “paradox”, it's just a straightforward truth about human societies: if you let people be jerks without any pushback, eventually, the jerks take over.
What often goes unmentioned is that there are plenty of similar "paradoxes" where taking a seemingly noble principle to its extreme ends up backfiring in the most predictable way. Take non-violence. A society that commits to complete non-violence might sound idyllic, but it crumbles the moment someone realizes they can grab power through violence, knowing nobody will lift a finger to stop them. Just as extreme tolerance can lead to a society overrun by intolerance, extreme non-violence can lead to a society overrun by violence.
Or consider a society that decides it values freedom so much, it abolishes all laws. No rules, just pure, unfiltered liberty. That might sound like freedom on paper, but in reality, it’s an open invitation for the first group of powerful people who get their act together to seize control. Congratulations, your lawless utopia just turned into a dictatorship.
At the heart of these so-called "paradoxes" is a simple truth: sometimes, doing the right thing means doing things we'd rather not do.
Take this scenario: if someone is trying to harm innocents and there’s no other way to stop them, using violence isn’t just acceptable—it’s the moral thing to do. The same goes for intolerance. If someone is pushing to segregate races or treat others as second-class citizens, it’s not just acceptable to shun and marginalize them—it’s what you should do. There’s a line, not always obvious but very real, where you must meet intolerance with intolerance, power with power, and violence with violence. Sometimes the right thing to do is to fight fire with fire.
Admittedly, this moral truth is pretty unsettling. It leaves me uneasy. I don’t want to be mean to people, and I certainly don’t want to resort to violence. Nevertheless, sometimes the right thing to do is unpleasant, and no amount of emotional discomfort can alter that truth.
2. Persuasion
Some of our best models for understanding persuasion are these nifty things called Dual-Process Theories, like the Elaboration Likelihood Model (ELM) and the Heuristic-Systematic Model (HSM).
According to these theories, persuasion isn’t a one-size-fits-all operation. It happens through two main routes. The first, known as the central route (in ELM) or systematic processing (in HSM), involves careful and thoughtful consideration of the arguments presented. This route is engaged when individuals are motivated and able to scrutinize a message. To activate this kind of systematic thinking, it helps if the message is presented in a tidy and coherent manner—think clear premises leading to a clear conclusion.
The second route, called the peripheral route (in ELM) or heuristic processing (in HSM), relies on superficial cues to make quick judgments. This could involve factors like the attractiveness or authority of the source, emotional appeals, or the sheer number of arguments presented, rather than their quality. This route is typically used when individuals are either unmotivated or unable to engage in deep processing. Messages designed for this route are crafted to play on these surface-level cues, getting you to buy in without much scrutiny.
In other words, if the central route is one for the thinkers, the peripheral route is one for the blinkers. Both are powerful and usefull in their own ways, but they operate on very different levels of engagement with the actual content.
As one might expect, the quickest way to convince someone is through the peripheral route, but it comes at a cost—it's notoriously worse than the systematic route when it comes to tracking the truth. As is often the case, efficiency has its price.
3. The Politics
Once you get your head around these models, it feels downright sleazy, even immoral, to deliberately tailor a message for the peripheral route. After all, the peripheral route is the playground of sophists, con men, and snake oil salesmen. It’s where truth gets shoved aside in favor of shiny distractions and cheap tricks, where persuasion isn’t won through reasoned debate but snatched with a well-timed smirk and a flashy sales pitch.
But sometimes getting your hands dirty in the peripheral route might just be the right thing to do.
Imagine a democratic society where a dangerously charismatic peripheral route master starts convincing people of things solely to serve his own nefarious interests. He’s slick, he’s flashy, and he knows exactly how to push all the right buttons to sway the masses without ever engaging in a single honest debate.
Trying to counter him by convincing millions of people solely through the—let’s be real—tedious and slow-moving systematic route would be a Herculean task. So, is it possible that the right move is to meet him in his hellish circle, to soil our hands in the peripheral route, and fight fire with fire? As much as it grates against our ideals, it would probably be the right thing to do.
And the uncomfortable truth is, this isn’t just a theoretical scenario: how many politicians omit, twist, and manipulate because they know that in the real world, the peripheral route is often the most effective path to victory? They know that the truth doesn’t always win, and they convince themselves that they have to play dirty a little to keep someone worse from taking over. The catch is, that sometimes, they’re right.
Utilizing the peripheral route for good may run even deeper.
In ancient societies, where getting away with crime was easier and time to ponder life's deeper questions was a luxury few could afford, morality was a hard sell. Why should I bother being kind when not caring about others seems to come with all these immediate rewards?
The earthly payoff of morality—that you’ll attract other moral people, that you’ll find meaning, and that in the long run, it will lead to a happier life—wasn’t exactly an idea that everyone grasped with ease. Delayed gratification has always been one of humanity’s most persistent challenges. 1
Now, imagine being someone who genuinely wanted to make society a better place. How tempting would it be to take a shortcut through the peripheral route, to persuade people that an invisible, all-powerful god was watching their every move and would condemn them to eternal suffering if they misbehaved?
How much good you could do with such a noble lie.
4. Academia
Being an academic in statistical methodologies, I’ve been implicitly taught to steer clear of persuasion and charisma. It doesn’t matter if I stutter when I speak or if my writing lacks the flair of a bestselling author (as the attentive reader will no doubt have already noticed). What matters is whether what I’m saying has predictive validity or whether it gets us closer to the truth.
At a conference once, I vividly recall my supervisor—a brilliant mathematician—listening intently as a colleague presented his research, using every polished, TED-style public speaking technique imaginable. He leaned over and muttered to me: “We’re not in a theater.”
The impressive public speaking techniques that were meant to captivate the audience had the opposite effect on him. He could see right through them and suspected they might serve to obfuscate the true substance of the research being presented. I’ll admit, my own skepticism was rising as well. “Just show me the model, the assumptions, and the theorems,” I thought.
It’s a curious and sometimes jarring phenomenon that in mathematics departments, it’s often the least charismatic talks that get the most respect. If your research has merit, it’ll stand on its own, without the need for rhetorical flourishes or slick presentations. System 1 Jedi tricks will get you nowhere; mathematicians are trained in the dark arts of System 2.
Meanwhile, outside the math department, our social media feeds are overrun by System 1 masters who, for the first time in history, have quick and direct access to millions of minds. And it makes me wonder whether it’s a good thing that some of our best academics are ill-equipped to engage on a battlefield they haven’t been trained for. The quiet, unadorned pursuit of truth is noble, but in a world where the loudest voices often win, I can’t help but feel a twinge of unease. What happens when the guardians of reason can’t—or won’t—compete in a game where style often trumps substance?
These are not the only reasons to choose to be moral.
Lovely post. I invite you to watch a short video I made on this subject a decade ago, posted on my old blog. This was after a stint as a product manager on Facebook games, realizing what kind of content was going viral and what the Internet was becoming. Google "stanrock memetics pt 2 four brothers"
I enjoyed this, thanks. Food for thought.