“I told you so,” isn’t as gratifying as you might think.

I’ve been writing about the business dangers of intellectual relativism and the importance of cultivating a “culture of honest inquiry” for more than 15 years (“Where intellectual relativism comes from,” 10/17/2005).

This week we witnessed the non-business consequences: A mob of armed insurrectionists, motivated by propaganda that was accepted as fact, specifically because the insurrectionists were, over the past several years, encouraged to accept “alternative facts” as being just as valid as any other kind of facts.

More valid, in fact, for two reasons. The first: actual facts might not affirm what their targets want to believe. They might even contradict it.

The second: Alternative facts have one and only one purpose: To enrage – to incite anger and hatred toward some convenient individuals and groups.

There are those who find the experience of anger, hatred, and rage gratifying. Pleasurable, in fact. Feeding alternative facts to this audience is much the same as giving Fido a doggie biscuit for rolling over.

That’s the first half of the symbiosis that was on display in our nation’s Capitol last week. The reciprocal half: People who want power, not to accomplish important goals but for its own sake. They give their audience what it wants – feelings of anger, hatred, and rage – and get power in return.

Symbiosis.

Persuading members of this audience that its leaders are playing them isn’t going to happen, because just as their leader’s goal is power, so their goal is a pleasurable experience.

It isn’t about the validity of the alternative facts they’ve been fed. The universe of alternative facts is built, not on validity, but on intellectual relativism – the branch of epistemology that insists all propositions are equally valid because how can you tell the difference? Just choose the ones you like best.

We’re all vulnerable to the temptations of intellectual relativism, and especially to the confirmation bias that makes it all work. And so, because we aren’t going to convince the insurrectionists or their cheerleaders that (for example), there was no vast deep state conspiracy that stole the election, we at least need to figure out how to inoculate ourselves.

Here are three tactics worth trying:

Inoculant #1: Anger management. This one is, in principle, simple: If someone is trying to make you angry at someone else – either an individual or a group – assume they’re trying to play you. Start ignoring them as soon as you possibly can.

Inoculant #2: The falsification test. Whatever the proposition you’re on the verge of accepting, ask yourself what collection of evidence would change your mind. If you can’t imagine one, well, meaning no offense, you’re part of the problem.

Inoculant #3: Choose your tribe. And choose it carefully. As human beings we’re all prone to viewing ourselves as members of some affinity group or other. Whatever our group, we know all the other groups are at best unenlightened and at worst despicable.

Religion is a common affinity group, as are political parties and sports teams, to name three of the more obvious. As a side note, it’s worth considering that last week’s assault on the Capitol resembled a soccer riot more than a policy dispute.

So whatever the subject at hand, “join” a tribe that has no stake in it. This helps you avoid choosing sides, helping you not think of the other sides as the awful “them.”

Bob’s last word: The purveyors of intellectual relativism in business settings might not use it to incite violence as their political counterparts did last week. That doesn’t make them okay. Quite the opposite – it makes them harder to spot.

Bob’s sales pitch: First: No, I’m not turning KJR into A Consultant Reads the Newspaper. But this week, not writing about last week’s attempted insurrection just wasn’t a possibility. Unless something equally grim takes place, I’ll get back to my usual fare next week.

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Once a year I ask KJR’s subscribers to let me know if these weekly musings are still valuable to you, and what might make them more valuable. Let me hear from you, if for no other reason than to know you’re still paying attention.

Thanks, and here’s hoping for an outstanding 2021.

In ten days we can all celebrate having survived 2020.

Except for those of us who didn’t survive it.

A friend made the point that while most of us are quite concerned about COVID-19, we don’t think twice about the risk of driving to the supermarket and dying from injuries sustained in a collision.

As it turns out, my friend’s point made, with the assistance of a bit of googling, the opposite point: It turns out that traveling 230 miles by car carries with it a 1 “micromort” risk, a micromort being a one-in-a-million chance of sudden death. Extrapolating, a trip to the supermarket has a mortality risk of about 1 in 20 million, compared to the 1 in 1,000 we share for dying of COVID-19.

But the question he asked was the right one.

Without in any way trivializing the devastation that’s hit so many of us so hard on so many different fronts, I think that if we allow it, 2020 has given us an opportunity – an opportunity to think better.

Especially, this is the year that’s taught us how much the question my friend asked … “Compared to what?” … matters.

For example: As of this writing, California’s COVID-19 mortality has reached 22,436. On the face of it, this is carnage.

But … 22,436 compared to what? In round numbers, California’s population of 39.5 million is about the same as Florida and New York combined (40.9 million). But Florida and New York’s combined COVID-19 mortality is more than twice what California has experienced – 56,175.

Meanwhile, many of our fellow citizens are outraged … OUTRAGED! as they might have posted on Twitter … at being told by their government that they must socially distance themselves from others around them and, when in proximity, they must wear pieces of cloth in front of their faces.

But before we allow outrage to get the better of us, let’s ask our 2020 question: compared to what?

That is, if we compare mask-wearing imperatives to governmental regulation of, say, bowling, mandatory mask-wearing is a sizeable imposition. But if instead we compare them to the laws that protect our neighbors by requiring sobriety while driving, not to mention being having to earn a driver’s license and carry insurance?

When we think about the activities we’ve had to curtail or give up entirely, and how the businesses we patronized to enjoy them that have suffered catastrophically, yes, it’s been a miserable year.

But miserable compared to what? Our misery is trivial compared to what Londoners experienced during the blitz in WWII. And from what I know of the subject, Londoners in WWII complained less. (On that subject let me take a moment to commend Citizens of London to your reading list.)

So as we gripe about what an awful year 2020 was, let’s take a few moments to put it in perspective – to ask ourselves, when pondering our misery, what we’re comparing our it to?

Because we’ve had bad years before. There was 66,065,543 BC, when an asteroid wiped out the dinosaurs, along with three quarters of all other plant and animal species. There was 1347, when the bubonic plague hit Europe, eventually killing more than 25 million.

There was 1967, when paisley somehow seemed like a good idea, and, even more awful, 1970, when disco ran amok.

Meanwhile, in 2020 we discovered just how much we know about genetic engineering – enough to sequence a virus’s DNA and, in less than a year, engineer effective vaccines. Had we started trying to develop a COVID-19 vaccine ten years ago using the techniques available then, right about now we might have a vaccine worth testing.

Also in 2020 we discovered that, somewhere along the way, businesses either had already deployed or could deploy with relative ease the technologies needed for employees to collaborate with customers and clients, and each other, without needing to meet in person.

My first involvement with the business use of personal computers and computing was four decades ago. At the time, each personal computer required a separate capital proposal, complete with a financial Return on Investment (ROI) analysis.

In 2020 the business case for equipping employees with personal computers is “Don’t be ridiculous.”

So as we wrap up a year that was far from what we’d hoped it would be, let’s all ask each other to maintain perspective – to ask, no matter what the subject, “Compared to what?”

Because if we give an honest answer, for most of us and in most respects, while our situations are far from perfect, they’re closer to better than they are to worse.

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I hope you find ways to have a wonderful holiday season. Me? I’m going to take a couple of weeks off – see you in 2021.

In the meantime, if you’re in the mood for past years’ Holiday Cards to the Industry, here’s where you’ll find them in the Archives: https://issurvivor.com/?s=%22holiday+card+to+the+industry%22 .

I hope you take the time to enjoy them.