Making Sense with Sam Harris - #9 — Final Thoughts On Chomsky
Episode Date: May 15, 2015Sam Harris reflects on his failure to have a productive conversation with Noam Chomsky. If the Making Sense podcast logo in your player is BLACK, you can SUBSCRIBE to gain access to all full-length ep...isodes at samharris.org/subscribe.
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I wanted to do another Ask Me Anything podcast, but I know I'm going to get inundated with
questions about my conversation with Noam Chomsky. So in order to inoculate us all against that,
or at least to make those questions more informed by my view of what happened there,
I want to do a short podcast just dealing with the larger problem, as I see it, of having
conversations of this kind. More and more, I find myself attempting to have difficult conversations with people
who hold very different points of view. And I consider our general failure to have these
conversations well, so as to produce an actual convergence of opinion and a general increase
in goodwill between the participants. I consider this the most
consequential problem that exists. Apart from violence and other forms of coercion, all we have
is conversation with which to influence one another. And the fact that it's so difficult for
people to have civil and productive discussions about things like U.S. foreign policy or racial
inequality or religious tolerance and free speech,
this is profoundly disorienting. And it's also dangerous. If we fail to do this,
we will fail to get everything else of value. Conversation is our only tool for collaborating
in a truly open-ended way. So I've been experimenting by reaching out to people
to have difficult conversations. I recently did this with the Muslim reformer Majid Nawaz,
which resulted in a short book entitled Islam and the Future of Tolerance, which will be published
in the fall. And as you'll read in that book, this was not at all guaranteed to work. Majid and I had
a very inauspicious first meeting. But when I later saw the work he was doing, I reached out to him.
And the resulting conversation is one in which we made genuine progress.
He opened my mind on several important points.
And most important, it was a genuine pleasure to show readers that conversation, even on very polarizing topics, can occasionally serve its intended purpose, which is to change minds, even one's own.
Now, here I would draw a distinction between a conversation and a debate. I mean, they're
superficially similar when the parties disagree, but to have one's mind changed in a debate
is to lose the debate and very likely to lose face before one's audience. Now, this is an
incredibly counterproductive way to frame any inquiry into what is audience. Now, this is an incredibly counterproductive way to frame
any inquiry into what is true. Now, occasionally I engage in public debates, but I've never
approached them like a high school exercise where one is committed to not changing one's view.
I don't want to be wrong for a moment longer than I need to be. And if my opponent is right
about something and I can see that, I will be very quick
to admit it. So my dialogue with Majid was not a debate, really, even though at times we are
pushing rather hard against one another. It was rather a conversation. And on the heels of that
success, I decided to attempt a similar project with Noam Chomsky. And the results of my failure
are on my blog for all to see. Of course, many people
understood exactly what I was trying to do and why I published the exchange, and they apparently
appreciated my efforts. I tried to have a civil conversation on an important topic with a very
influential thinker, and I failed. And I published the result because I thought the failure was instructive.
The whole purpose was to extract something of value from what seemed like a truly pointless exercise. But that's not the lesson that many readers took away from it. Many of you seem to
think that the conversation failed because I arrogantly challenged Chomsky to a debate,
probably because I was trying to steal some measure of his fame,
and that I immediately found myself out of my depth. And when he devastated me with the evidence of my own intellectual misconduct and my ignorance of history and my blind faith in the goodness of
the U.S. government, I complained about his being mean to me and I ran away. Well, I must say,
I find this view of the situation genuinely flabbergasted.
Many of you seem to forget that I published the exchange. I mean, you must think I'm a total
masochist or just delusional. I know that some of you think the latter. I heard from one person,
I think it was on Twitter, who said, Sam Harris reminds me of a little kid who thinks he's playing
a video game and he thinks he's winning, but his controller isn't actually plugged in.
Now, I happen to love that metaphor. I'm just not so happy to have it applied to me.
But anyone who thinks I lost a debate here just doesn't understand what I was trying to do or why upon seeing that my attempt at dialogue was a total failure, I bailed out. I really was trying to have a
productive conversation with Chomsky. And I encountered little more than contempt and
false accusations and highly moralizing language, accusing me of apologizing for atrocities.
And then weird evasions and silly tricks. It was a horror show. Now, I concede that I made a few
missteps. I should have dealt with Chomsky's charges that I had misrepresented him immediately and very directly. They are, in fact, tissue thin. I did not misrepresent his views at all. I simply said that he had not thought about certain questions when I should have said he had thought about them badly.
Those of you who have written to tell me that what I did to Chomsky is analogous to what has been done to me by people who actually lie about my views, you're just not interacting honestly with what happened here.
I did not misrepresent Chomsky's position on anything.
And insults aside, he was doing everything in his power to derail the conversation.
And the amazing thing is that highly moralizing accusations work for people who think they're watching a debate. They convince most of the audience that where there's smoke,
there must be fire. I mean, for instance, when Ben Affleck called me and Bill Maher racist,
that was all he had to do to convince 50% of the audience. But I'm sorry to say it was the
same with Chomsky. I can't tell you how many people I heard from who think that he showed how ludicrous and unethical my concern about intentions was,
for instance. He's dealing in the real world, but all my talk about intentions was just a bizarre
and useless bit of philosophizing. But think about that for a second. Okay, our legal system
depends upon weighing intentions in precisely the way I describe. How else do we differentiate
between premeditated murder and crimes of passion and manslaughter and criminal negligence and just
terrible accidents for which no one is to blame? Imagine your neighbor's house burns down and yours
with it. What the hell happened? Well, what happened has a lot to do with your neighbor's
intentions. If he had a cooking fire that got out of control,
that's one thing.
If he tried to burn down his own house
to collect the insurance payment, that's another.
If he tried to burn down the whole neighborhood
because he just hates everyone, that's another.
Intentions matter because they contain all the information
about what your neighbor is likely to do next.
There's a spectrum of culpability here, and intention is its very substance.
Chomsky seems to think that he has made a great moral discovery in this area,
and that not intending a harm can sometimes be morally worse than intending one.
Now, I'm pretty sure that I disagree, but I would have loved to discuss it.
I wasn't debating him about anything.
I was trying to figure out what the man
actually believes. It's still not clear to me because he appeared to be contradicting himself
in our exchange. But in response to my questions and the thought experiments I was marshalling
trying to get to first principles, all I got back were insults. But worse, many people seem to think
that these insults were a sign of the man's moral seriousness.
Many seem to think that belligerence and an unwillingness to have a civil dialogue is a virtue in any encounter like this.
And that simply vilifying one's opponent as a moral monster by merely declaring him to be one is a clever thing to do.
thing to do. Now, despite what every Chomsky fan seems to think, there was nowhere in that exchange where I signaled my unwillingness to acknowledge or to discuss specific crimes for which the U.S.
government might be responsible. The United States and the West generally has a history of colonialism
and slavery and of collusion with dictators and of imposing its will on people all over the world.
I have never denied this. But I'm hearing from people
who say things like, of course ISIS and Al-Qaeda are terrible, but we're just as bad, worse even,
because we created them, literally. And through our selfishness and our ineptitude, we created
millions of other victims who sympathize with them for obvious reasons. We are, in every morally relevant sense, getting exactly
what we deserve. Well, this kind of masochism and misreading of both ourselves and of our enemies
has become a kind of religious precept on the left. I don't think an inability to distinguish
George Bush or Bill Clinton from Saddam Hussein or Hitler is philosophically or politically
interesting, much less wise.
And many people, most even, who are this morally confused consider Chomsky their patriarch. And I
suspect that's not an accident. But I wanted to talk to him to see if there was some way to build
a bridge off this island of masochism so that these sorts of people who I've been hearing from for years could cross over to
something more reasonable. And it didn't work out. The conversation, as I said, was a total failure,
but I thought it was an instructive one. So I don't know if that answers all the questions
I'm going to get about the Chomsky affair, but when I put out a call for an AMA later this week, forgive me for moving on to other
topics because I don't think there's much more to say on this one. But I'm going to keep trying
to have conversations like this because conversations are only hope. Thank you.