Proverbs and irrationality

I’ve previously argued that many proverbs and bon mots don’t make much sense. For instance, I’ve argued that it’s typically not the case that A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, but that the benefits of knowledge tend to rise monotonically. I think there are many such cases.

But the Norwegian scholar Jon Elster has an alternative view of proverbs and bon mots. Elster notes that there are many pairs of proverbs that at first glance seem to contradict each other, such as Out of sight, out of mind and Absence makes the heart grow fonder. However, in Elster’s view, they are not to be interpreted as statements about the net effects of being apart. Instead, they are statements about the gross effect of individual mechanisms. They are pro tanto-claims, not all things considered-claims. Being apart can trigger several mechanisms: it can make you forget about them (thereby lowering your interest), but it can also make you idealise them (thereby increasing your interest). Which of these mechanisms is stronger depends on the details of the case at hand; on which mechanism is triggered the most. (Elster notes that La Rouchefoucauld argued that Absence lessens moderate passions and intensifies great ones, as the wind blows out a candle but fans up a fire.)

This is all characteristically clever and insightful from Elster. However, I’m not sure it correctly describes how people actually use proverbs. People conflate pro tanto-claims and all things considered-claims all the time. As far as I can tell, people who use Out of sight, out of mind are typically not thinking “but this is just one mechanism out of several, and it’s possible that countervailing mechanisms are stronger”. Rather, it seems to me that they are usually oblivious of additional mechanisms. They use their wise proverb as a conversation halter that settles the issue, and are not as epistemically virtuous as Elster’s analysis suggests. My experience is that people often utter proverbs in a self-satisfied tone that is antithetical to the Scout Mindset.

Some proverbs seem patently absurd, e.g. A watched kettle never boils and It’s always darkest before the dawn. In my view, that gives some support to my interpretation of the proverbs under discussion. Of course, it’s to be expected that some proverbs make more sense than others. Still, the existence of clearly misconceived proverbs sits better with my interpretation of Out of sight, out of mind than with Elster’s.

Across many domains, we often overrate how attentive we are. The existence of flawed proverbs and bon mots is another example of that. As far as I can tell, it’s not because of some fundamental lack of analytical capacities that people accept a claim such as A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Instead, the problem is that they don’t engage the analytical capacities they do have. They don’t pay attention: they don’t ask themselves: “Is it actually true that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing?” Instead, they passively accept the claim (or at least don’t object to it). 

Some might argue that one shouldn’t be too harsh on uses of proverbs, since people aren’t very serious when they utter them. While that may be true in some cases, I don’t think we should adopt that attitude across the board. Playful and serious uses of language aren’t two neatly separated buckets in our minds. Instead, they often blend into each other. Many proverbs have a motte-and-bailey character: when no one objects, the stronger and more interesting meaning is conveyed; but when criticised, the speaker retreats to a more defensible position (“I didn’t mean that literally”). Requiring that proverbs be interpreted “charitably” means you can’t criticise this practice. Proverbs often don’t make much sense; and when they don’t, we should be willing to say so.