Why studying the humanities is as important as ever

The Challenges Facing  Colleges And Universities Today

Higher education in the United States is in a state of crisis. Costs of education have increased precipitously, multiplying by a factor of 12 over the past 30 years, which has resulted in total student loan debt of over $1 trillion, all at a time when recent college graduates face a grim job market. Perhaps even more troublingly, recent studies by  prominent economists argue that since 2000, the demand for high-skilled labor has declined, which is likely to push more educated workers further down the income scale, and potentially squeeze out less educated and unskilled workers altogether.

Policymakers, educational leaders, parents, and students are all grappling for solutions to these challenges. Recently, President Obama set forward a sweeping proposal for curbing tuition costs. This will be accomplished, in part, by tying federal financial aid to a ranking system, which will assess the overall value of an undergraduate education, according to a formula that considers tuition prices, graduation rates, and the employment prospects of recent graduates.

Meanwhile, Florida’s public university system is exploring a differential tuition model, where students pursuing degrees in fields like engineering or biotechnology—which are considered of “strategic interest” due to superior postgraduate employment rates—would end up paying less for their education than students in other paths of study, such as the humanities. The program has come to be known as the “$10,000 degree challenge” since Governor Rick Scott is challenging the state’s public universities to provide this education for a cost of just $10,000. In Texas, Governor Rick Perry is pushing for similar changes in the tuition structure of state universities, with $10,000 degrees available for students studying subjects like computer science, math, and various specializations in information technology.

 In the eyes of some critics, an emphasis on science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM) must come at the expense of other fields of study, specifically, the humanities (which is generally understood to comprise subjects such as history, philosophy, music, literature, foreign languages, and other related disciplines).  This is what’s happening in North Carolina, where, in addition to pushing for a more employment-focused university curriculum, Governor Patrick McCrory has been highly critical of humanities education.

This isn’t just a problem in North Carolina. Budget cuts at public universities have gutted entire programs, while the number of today’s college students studying the humanities has dropped substantially. This has also resulted in a major reduction in the number of humanities courses offered.  

Many of those who advocate for an elevated emphasis on STEM education believe that, in a world where 65% of today’s elementary school students will be performing jobs that don’t exist today (due to exponential advances in science and technology), a strong background in math, science and engineering is increasingly crucial to our national future. Observers often cite the more rapid growth in STEM jobs, as compared to the rest of the US economy, as well as the increased demand for STEM-related skills even in jobs outside of traditionally scientific fields like medicine or engineering, and thus argue that our educational system needs to more effectively impart STEM skills to a greater number of people.

These STEM advocates are correct in their assessment of the situation. In a world that is increasingly driven by concepts like Big Data, there is no question that all of today’s graduates need a basic grounding in math and science, particularly advanced mathematics, statistics, and computer science. Allowing students to graduate from college without demonstrating some basic grounding in these subjects, does them a major disservice. Yet, the humanities have a vital role to play in providing all college students, whatever their academic or career goals, with a complete intellectual toolkit, as they seek to understand, create, and achieve in today’s world. 

The Study of Humanities Helps Facilitate Innovation, and Produces Better Employees

In his book The Innovator’s DNA (co-authored with Jeff Dyer and Hal Gergersen), Harvard Business School professor Clayton Christensen argues that one of the most critical skills of successful innovators and entrepreneurs is the ability to associate ideas, that is, to connect “seemingly unrelated” concepts, often from different disciplines, in order to come up with new approaches and solutions.

Christensen draws upon the example of Steve Jobs, and numerous other impactful entrepreneurs, to illustrate this point. Jobs enrolled at Reed College, a liberal arts school in Oregon, and ended up dropping out after 6 months. However, Jobs spent the following 18 months exploring a variety of creative classes at the university, including a course in calligraphy. Jobs’ credits the calligraphy course for the proportional font spacing and varied typefaces found in even early Apple computers, and which was one of the distinguishing features of Apple’s early technology.

Just a few days after unveiling the game-changing iPad tablet, Jobs observed: “We're not just a tech company, even though we invent some of the highest technology products in the world. It's the marriage of that plus the humanities and the liberal arts that distinguishes Apple.” Reflecting further upon his trajectory as a creative thinker, he further remarked “It comes down to trying to expose yourself to the best things that humans have done, and then try to bring those things in to what you’re doing…Creativity is just connecting things.”

Jobs’ life illustrates how varied learning and educational experiences, particularly in the humanities, can contribute to one’s creativity. Exposure to a diverse and complex array of information, concepts, and experiences, across a variety of disciplines, by definition, means that one now enjoys access to more idea libraries from which to engage in association. Thus, it’s important for all students, including those STEM majors who might be the founders of tomorrow’s Apple, Google or Facebook, to gain the sort of broad exposure, which the study of the humanities can provide for students.

Christensen and his co-authors also argue that questioning is an important skill for innovators, that is, a belief in the value of inquiry, and a desire to “challenge the status quo.” Studying subjects like history, sociology, or literary criticism, which typically don’t offer clear, binary answers to complex questions, can, at their best, serve as a springboard for rigorous critical inquiry, which is demanded of those who wish to facilitate disruptive change in any field. 

Scientists can also benefit from a strong grounding in the humanities. Dr. Robert Root-Bernstein, a MacArthur Fellowship recipient, who has extensively explored the foundations of human creativity, conducted a study of more than 200 highly accomplished scientists, and found a strong correlation between success in the sciences and engagement with artistic and creative ventures. Based on these findings, Dr. Root-Bernstein thus believes that schools should “emphasize cross-disciplinary skills” and “place arts on a par with the sciences.”

Dr. Root-Bernstein offers compelling examples of how the arts and sciences (and individuals adept in one or both disciplines) can come together to produce tremendous progress in science and technology. For example cellular phone encryption technology (vital for mobile device security) is based on the concept of “frequency hopping”, which was in large part developed by composer and author George Antheil, in collaboration with actress Hedy Lamarr, during World War II.  The images gleaned from NSA and NASA satellites are enhanced by use of Renaissance-era artistic techniques like chiaroscuro and false coloring, while Samuel Morse (telegraph innovator and Morse code co-founder), and Robert Fulton (who developed the first steamboat successfully used for purposes of business/commerce), were both prominent artists, prior to their storied scientific achievements.

 

The humanities are of great value not only for potential entrepreneurs and discoverers, but also for the majority of students, who will go on to work for various government, business, and non-profit organizations. Employers consistently rank effective communication skills, both written and oral, to be amongst the most valuable traits for functioning as an effective member of any workplace. There are few better means to hone these abilities than through engaging at the university level, whether that is through intensive writing courses that really push and test a student’s communication abilities, or via classes in public speaking, rhetoric, debate, drama and theater, all of which both demand and mold successful communication. 

As noted earlier, a strong capacity for critical thinking is another quality coveted by employers. The humanities are an excellent vehicle through which to improve one’s ability to assess arguments, evidence, and situations with a thoughtful, nuanced perspective, which is the hallmark of an effective critical thinker.

 When assessing a historical question, there’s often a variety of evidence and perspectives, often conflicting, contradictory, or incomplete, that must be sifted through, in order to make sense of a particular issue or event. The same is true if one takes courses in literature and fiction, where the motivations and actions of characters are often subject to considerable interpretation and ambiguity. Anyone who has attempted to study the Civil War or French Revolution in depth, or work through a Fyodor Dostoyevsky or Toni Morrison novel, will be more than willing to attest to this point. Learning to effectively grapple with these various complexities can mold a student into a sharper, more incisive thinker, and is a further testament to the value of intense study of the humanities.  

What Philosophers Had to Say about Income Inequality

Income inequality in the United States, now at it’s highest levels since the eve of the Great Depression, is a topic of considerable interest in the nation today. In addition to being the focus of prominent economist Thomas Piketty’s new book Capital In the 21^st Century (currently the #1 selling book on Amazon), inequality was a major catalyst for the Occupy movement, and was an important issue in the 2012 presidential election. After his reelection, President Obama also devoted considerable attention to this issue. Economists like Nobel Prize winners Joseph Stiglitz of Columbia University and Paul Krugman of Princeton University have argued that income inequality has slowed the recovery from the Great Recession.

Additional research also suggests that income inequality in the United States is closely associated with increased homicide rates, elevated infant mortality, as well as decreased levels of educational attainment. Given the potential impact of inequality on society, it is clearly a crucial topic that needs to be better understood.  Yet, without studying the humanities, and in particular philosophy and history, it will be increasingly difficult to understand issues like income inequality, and to sustain and nurture American democracy as a whole.

A study by economist Angus Deaton and psychologist Daniel Kahneman found that for annual incomes of up to $75,000, income was closely correlated with various measures of happiness, including stress levels.  After $75,000, however, this effect disappears, with additional income not significantly impacting these measures of satisfaction. Yet, in a puzzling twist, when people were asked whether their life was “going well,” those with higher incomes were more likely to answer in the affirmative.  Deaton and Kahneman’s work sheds a fascinating light on how we understand and react to our financial status. 

Utilitarian philosophers, such as Jeremy Bentham and John Stuart Mill, believed realities and situations should be assessed by whether they provided the greatest amount happiness (defined by Mill as the “absence of pain”) for the largest possible number of people.  Utilitarian thinkers would examine Deaton and Kahneman’s findings, and probably argue that high levels of income inequality were a net negative, because with a skewed wealth distribution, many people (those on the lower end of the income distribution, whom there are necessarily many of in a highly unequal society), are not experiencing their optimal levels of happiness. When presented with some of the aforementioned data linking inequality with worsened educational outcomes, and increased infant mortality rates, Bentham and Mill would likely cast an even more critical eye towards income inequality.

At the same time, if income inequality were to somehow increase average incomes substantially (as has been argued by Judge Richard Posner, a prominent United States Court of Appeals judge, and the most cited legal scholar of the twentieth century), then utility for the greatest number of people, in the form of personal happiness, would be maximized. In such a scenario, income inequality could actually be a net positive. 

The late John Rawls, perhaps the most prominent American philosopher of the 20^th century, argued that various personal advantages which individuals enjoy (whether in terms of talents and abilities, or social status and income), are justified only if the manner in which these advantages are rewarded (for example, through large earnings, or considerable political power) is, in a macro sense,  beneficial to everyone in society, no matter what their income status or intellectual abilities. Rawls doesn’t argue that everyone needs to be equal in terms of income or power, but rather, that society is structured in a manner where inequalities and disparities are advantageous to the worst-off in society (that is, they are better off than they would be under some other societal structure). 

Rawls also believed desirable positions (such as a coveted job at a respected company, or the ability to run for elected office) should be available to all people, on the basis of fair and equal competition. According to Rawls’ formulation, this requires not just that positions be made available on the basis of merit (for example, without racial or religious discrimination, or undue advantages due to family connections), but also that all people have the proper starting point (such as access to educational resources), to be able to viably compete for desired positions.

That is, Rawls argues for not just an equal right to seek out and obtain the employment that one desires, but also an equal opportunity to acquire the knowledge, and develop the skills necessary, to effectively compete for such positions. As Rawls puts it: “In all parts of society there are to be roughly the same prospects of culture and achievement for those similarly motivated and endowed.”)

Whether Rawls would consider the current income distribution justified would depend in part on whether this distribution is beneficial to the worst off in society, that is, whether it leaves the most socioeconomically disadvantaged Americans better off than they would be in the absence of such inequality. Rawls would also examine the degree to which all people could obtain the jobs they desired, based on the aforementioned framework.

Hypothetically, if income inequality and wealth disparity improves the economy as a whole, and if it ultimately also benefits those in the lower strata of society (as Judge Posner argues), current levels of inequality might be a net positive.  However, given that the poor seem to be suffering from elevated levels of educational underachievement , while facing lower life expectancies  and limited access to the legal system , Posner’s assessments are, to say the lease, debatable. These realities also suggest that the equality of opportunity that Rawls so valued, isn’t present in today’s America. Thus, Rawls would likely cast a wary eye towards current levels of income inequality.

Why does it matter what Rawls, Bentham, Mills, or any other philosopher thinks about income inequality? Can’t we just use the statistical and economic data before us to reach a decision as to how to reach a sound understanding on this topic? Actually, that isn’t possible.

Whether one views the current wealth distribution as problematic or acceptable depends in large part upon how we view questions such as whether unearned advantages (like the family and society one was born into) should drastically affect one’s life chances, or what obligations members of a society owe to each other, and whether social mobility is important, and how it ties to inequality.

The conclusions that any individual reaches on these issues, are in large part underpinned by moral and philosophical concerns.  By better understanding the reasoning of those philosophers who preceded us, and the broader themes and framework that drive their thinking, we can better assess our respective positions, and thus have a deeper, more meaningful conversation about our own nation’s path forward on issues like income disparity.   

Studying History Allows Us to Understand Today’s Society

A basic understanding of American history is also crucial to maintaining a democratic society. How can we truly understand the current outcry over the NSA spying scandal, and the potential dangers of an expansive security state more generally, without considering  past programs of domestic surveillance, or how the nation approached questions of civil liberties during prior times of war and conflict? Along these lines, how do we analyze labor issues, such as the unionization campaigns of today, without probing the broader history of the labor movement? Or what about how the recent recession and recovery compares with past economic turnarounds from major downturns, and how our solutions to the recent crisis are similar to, and differ from, those applied in previous crises?

Why College Is The Ideal Place To Study Philosophy and History

Engagement with topics like philosophy and history is a lifelong, dynamic process. And yet, colleges and universities, as the final place where most people will formally study such a broad array of subjects (as opposed to the highly specialized and segmented curriculum of graduate school, or the very specific demands of the working world), is an important juncture. Furthermore, since most of today’s high school graduates attend colleges (either 2 or 4 year) and universities, these institutions bring together a large portion of the population, from which to create a common academic grounding in these subjects, which will be highly beneficial to the political process as students become voters. Additionally, since most members of Congress hold college degrees, the university must be understood as a shared experience for not just voters, but also, future elected officials. 

If we hope to build an informed, engaged citizenry, whatever their individual political stances, requiring the study of philosophy and history, is an important starting point.  

A Required Curriculum in Mathematics, Statistics, and Computer Science

Recognizing that all students must study the humanities, does not mean that those focusing on the humanities need not study other subjects; on the contrary. In a world where big data is increasingly expected to both drive decision making, and serve as a source of future employment, and in a time when the National Academy of Sciences warns of a “gathering storm” in American education, due to major fissures in math and science education, it is clear that everyone needs a basic understanding of math and computer science, preferably as a part of the core college curriculum.

 At a minimum, all students should be asked to demonstrate basic proficiency in both mathematics and statistics. Math not only provides students with important critical thinking and logic skills, but is the underlying basis for important concepts and themes in disciplines ranging from engineering to medicine to economics . Statistics is no less important, since statistics is a core tool for a variety of undertakings, from making strategic business decisions to political forecasting to research in psychology. Additionally, since statistics, particularly in politics and healthcare, are often used in an ideologically biased manner, and misused or misinterpreted, it is vital that students develop a strong understanding of statistics on their own, so that they aren’t vulnerable to the deceptions posed by, as Mark Twain once put it “Lies, damn lies, and statistics.”  

Students should also take at least one course in the fundamentals of computer science, which can help shape a very basic understanding of how the Internet and digital technology works. The lives of humanities majors will be just as affected by technology, science and data as everyone else, and so must have a core grasp of these critical concepts. This idea was best captured by the title of a recent book arguing for increased technology literacy, from media theorist Douglas Rushkoff: Program or Be Programmed.

Conclusion

Valuing science and technology doesn’t mean that we can in any way afford to undermine or ignores the humanities. A solid grounding in the humanities, ideally through required courses in philosophy, American history, and English, should be mandatory for all students. Study of arts, theater, literature, anthropology, world history, and more should be encouraged and supported as well, financially as well as in spirit, and both inside and outside of the classroom.

Higher education in the United States is largely broken, whether we consider the costs of education, the job prospects of recent graduates, or the need to provide graduates with the skills to compete in today’s hypercompetitive global marketplace. It is as crucial as ever to fix those problems. But, in seeking solutions, let’s not allow any of those realities to allow us to minimize or dismiss the vital importance of the humanities for all university students. We do so at our own peril. 

How I came to oppose capital punishment

For those of us who are engaged by the world of politics, government, and public policy, it’s often difficult to come to the realization that you were profoundly wrong about a longstanding belief. Challenging one’s worldview with new facts can be a jarring experience; as a (still unknown) individual once remarked “My mind is made up. Don’t confuse me with the facts.”

Yet, if one hopes to move forward as a thinker, and to better understand the world we inhabit, it is necessary to allow conflicting facts and  realities to crack the thickly enclosed cage in which we safeguard many of our most strongly held stances.  Yet, as extensive psychological research has shown, assimilating and processing these contradictions is rather difficult, since, in political matters at least, individuals demonstrate a stubborn resistance to processing conflicting facts, and shaping our beliefs accordingly. In fact, being exposed to contradictory evidence, often causes us to become more entrenched in our existing beliefs.

My shift from an ardent supporter of capital punishment, to a committed opponent of this practice, has taught me a lot about both how hard, but ultimately how crucial, it is to allow one’s stance on an issue to evolve with new facts and knowledge. Based on my experience, I believe that empathy can serve as an effective remedy in fighting our inherent psychological resistance to psychological change.

I’ve had strong opinions on political questions since I was about 7. At age 12, I convinced one of my friend’s, who had come to hang out at my house for the afternoon (to play computer and Super Nintendo games, as I recall) that we should write a letter to President Clinton, regarding issues like education and defense spending. So, it’s probably no surprise that from early on, I held an opinion on a variety of issues, including the hotly contested death penalty.

Around the time I was 10, I was living in a suburb of Los Angeles. Democratic gubernatorial candidate Kathleen Brown had been defeated by Republican Pete Wilson in the 1994 gubernatorial election, in part thanks to Brown’s opposition to the death penalty, which caused many voters to perceive her as being soft on crime. Around this time, Californians were also reeling from the horrific 1993 murder of Polly Klaas, a 12 year old girl who was kidnapped from her home during a sleepover with friends. She was later found strangled to death. Richard Allen Davis, a repeat offender who had been incarcerated numerous times for an array of violent crimes, was ultimately convicted in Klaas’ death. Her murder created considerable momentum for the 3 strikes law, which provided that for those convicted of two violent or serious felonies already, the third felony would carry a sentence of 25 years to life.  

Growing up hearing about such horrific events, I couldn’t help but be scared. Unlike the bloody gang wars which enveloped Los Angeles in the 1980’s and early 1990’s, but were mostly confined to localities like Compton and Watts, crimes like those committed by Davis could happen just about anywhere. While in reality the risk of being a victim of a crime was considerably greater for poor Angelenos than for my suburban peers, as the pace at which the media breathlessly reported violent crimes increased, the more worried I grew.

What was the best solution to this risk of violence? It seemed there was a pretty simple solution to this problem. The people who were committing these crimes were most likely repeat offenders (known as “career criminals”), so the 3 strikes law seemed like a clear, simple approach to reducing crime rates. But what about for those who committed really horrible crimes, which took the lives of others under extremely gruesome circumstances? Equally easy: Execute them.

Such people, it was apparent, were such an incredible danger to the public, that there could be no risk of their being released. Ever the skeptic, I didn't really accept the government’s claim that life in prison meant life in prison. Still, it wasn’t just the chance, however remote, that a person could be walk free one day, which drove me to support capital punishment.

Rather, I believed that under certain circumstances, vengeance was the most necessary and appropriate response to a grievous wrong. Murder, especially under brutal and callous circumstances, was such a depraved act, that the person who committed it should have the punishment which he inflicted upon his victims, turned upon himself, as a sort of karmic mandate, carried out by humans.

I never thought that the death penalty would serve as a deterrent to future acts of brutality. Rather, it seemed to me to be an unfortunate but necessary feature of our judicial system, a strong response to the evil that manifested itself in some people. Those who would commit acts of horrific violence would not be scared by any warning or punishment that we could inflict upon them.  Rather, for reasons of morality and justice, it was simply best to execute them.  

The thing is, from a purely theoretical standpoint, my views on the death penalty haven’t really changed. Certain acts of murder deserve to be met with death. I don’t believe that capital punishment, from a moral standpoint, is unfair or cruel; if anything, it is just, when applied to an absolutely guilty person. In an alternate universe, where the guilt of a defendant in a capital punishment trial was without question, I would still support his execution. So, why do I now oppose the use of the death penalty?

What I’ve finally accepted, with considerable difficulty, is that we don’t live in that imaginary realm. For quite a while, I've understood, in a technical sense, a person could be wrongfully executed (though I did not actually know of a specific case where I was certain this had happened) . Additionally, it seemed like there were substantial safeguards in place, to prevent such a travesty. For one, in every state where the death penalty is applied, death sentences are automatically appealed. In my mind, this meant that any issues mitigating an individual’s guilt would be brought forward and explored on appeal, and so an innocent defendant likely wouldn't be executed.

I also assumed (incorrectly, I now realize) that because of the gravity and finality of a death sentence, these proceedings would be marked with a greater seriousness and depth than other matters. As a result, I believed, those serving in law enforcement, and on the prosecution, would act more competently and honestly. I viewed the numerous instances of death row inmates who were subsequently exonerated, as further proof that the system, however flawed, ultimately worked well. I categorically dismissed the idea that innocent people were being executed.

In my naivete, it hardly occurred to me that corrupt or overzealous prosecutors might deliberately withhold evidence that sent an innocent man to prison for 18 years, during which time, he would have seven execution dates set and then cancelled at the last minute. That’s what happened in the case of John Thompson of Louisiana. 

Among the pieces of evidence withheld from Thompson’s attorneys at his trial was a blood sample, recovered from the scene of the crime, which contained the blood of someone other than Thompson or the victim. Prosecutors also did not disclose that initial eyewitness descriptions of the murder suspect bore no resemblance to Thompson, or that the main witness in the case had been paid a reward by the victim’s family. Still, Thompson wasn’t executed. The system, however flawed it was, still ultimately delivered some semblance of justice. 

What really tipped the balance, for me, was the case of Cameron Todd Willingham. Willingham, a father of three, was executed in 2004, having been convicted of murder in the deaths of his children, who perished in a massive fire at the Willingham home in Corsicana, Texas in 1991.

Prosecutors had charged Willingham with setting the fire that killed his children, in order to cover up alleged abuse of his daughters. At trial, jurors heard the testimony of arson investigator Manuel Vasquez, who argued, based on the nature and patterns of the fire, that the death of Willingham’s children was caused by an act of arson. Additionally, Johnny Webb, an inmate who was being held in the same jail where Willingham was detained before trial, testified that Willingham confessed to him that he had murdered his children, in order to cover up abuse by Willingham’s wife.

The prosecution also offered testimony from a psychologist and a psychiatrist, both of whom claimed that Willingham fit the profile of a sociopath. Neither of these individuals met and interviewed Willingham prior to testifying. Tim Gregory, one of the witnesses, specialized in marriage and family therapy, and testified that based on Willingham’s tattoos, he had an interest in “satanic-type activities.” The second witness, forensic psychiatrist Dr. James Grigson, testified that Willingham was an “extremely severe sociopath.”Willingham was convicted,, and sentenced to death.

However, upon closer examination, many aspects of his conviction began to unravel. Dr. Gerald Hurst, a leading arson expert, agreed to investigate Willingham’s case; specifically, Vasquez’s testimony that Willingham’s death was caused by an act of arson. Based on his painstaking, methodical investigation, Dr. Hurst found that the fire was most likely accidental, and that Willingham’s conviction was based upon “junk science.” After Willingham’s execution, a panel of three more national arson experts, commissioned by reporters for the Chicago Tribune, concurred with Hurst’s conclusions, and expressed great skepticism towards Vasquez’s conclusions.

Webb’s testimony was also severely discredited. Webb had contacted authorities to inform them of Willingham’s alleged statements. At the time, Webb was facing charges of robbery and forgery; and so might have had an incentive to cooperated with authorities, in order to receive a reduced prison sentence (in fact, another inmate alleged that Webb told him this was the exact reason he chose to cooperate with authorities). Webb also had been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, due to being sexually assaulted in prison. Perhaps most damning, after his release from prison, in March 2000, Webb later recanted his testimony (saying that Willingham was “innocent of all charges”), and soon after, withdrew this recantation (while admitting that “it’s very possible that I misunderstood” what exactly Willingham said). Webb was eventually diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

As I read David Grann’s piece in The New Yorker, detailing Willingham’s story, I was shocked. How could this happen? How did the court system make such a massive, and seemingly preventable, error, when a man’s life was at stake? How could evidence that cast serious doubt upon Willingham’s’ guilt be so easily overlooked at trial, and callously dismissed on appeal? My first reaction was that Willingham didn't commit the crime he was accused of, and yet, in spite of that, he was dead. I realized that if everything, or even most of, what was contained in this piece was correct, I had grossly overestimated the power of the judicial system to determine a man’s guilt, even in those matters where a defendant faced the ultimate punishment that the state could inflict upon a person.

Yet, even while I tried to process this reality at an intellectual level, my gut instincts still told me that the death penalty was right, and somehow, Willingham had to be guilty. I first tried to rationalize Willingham’s case, by telling myself that I wasn’t present on that night in Corsicana, so how could I know what really happened? This line of reasoning persisted briefly, but I was forced to confront one hard truth; the jurors in this case weren't present at the crime scene either, and in fact never are, and yet, I was seemingly willing to accept their verdict. Requiring someone to witness a murder before they could judge whether a defendant was guilty or not, was patently absurd. If those criteria were applied, the justice system would be nearly unworkable.

I also tried to convince myself that the evidence exonerating Willingham was weak. The science of fires and arson, it seemed to me, were less exacting, than, say, physics or math. As a result, I placed less faith Dr. Hurst’s testimony. I didn't think that he was acting in bad faith, so much as I doubted arson analysis as a discipline.

 Of course, that forced me to consider the uncomfortable contradiction that Willingham was convicted, in major part, on the basis of (by my own admission, likely flawed) arson evidence, offered by Vasquez. I couldn't simultaneously endorse the value of arson evidence, as used to convict Willingham, and yet also choose to disbelieve such evidence when it seemed to back Willingham’s innocence.

Despite mounting evidence that I was wrong, I continued these mental contortions. Whenever I found myself really grappling with the issues surrounding Willingham’s case, I would back away, almost instinctually repelled by what I might realize. I was having more and more trouble coming up with explanations for why Willingham’s conviction was proper, and yet, I didn’t want to accept that, and it’s broader implications.

Around mid-2012, I finally bridged the wide gap between the facts in my head, and the raw emotions which told me that the death penalty was so important. How did this happen? I tried something I hadn't given a shot before; empathy. I had always felt a connection with the victims of murder and other violent crime, perhaps because I’d always believed that the threat of random violence wasn’t as far away as I might hope.

But now, I sat down and tried to imagine myself in the position of a wrongfully convicted death row inmate. I still can’t say why I did it. Perhaps I was trying to hone that idealized, lawyerly sense of fairness, of hearing both sides of the story. I pictured the years of solitude, the terror of impending death, but perhaps most of all, the feeling that this was just all so wrong, so unfair. 

How would I feel if that were me? Would I want to know, if I were wrongfully convicted, that at least I wouldn't be put to death, and so might be able to one day clear my name, and experience freedom again? At first, I recoiled from this exercise. Why would I ever be in a position to be convicted of a crime? But, somehow, I let this thought experiment play itself out.

And then, soon enough, I understood. Of course I would want to be able to walk free again one day, unfettered by the confines of prison. And, without a doubt, it would be horrifying to be put to death for a crime, I didn't commit. Wouldn't I be a hypocrite, if I were to subject someone else to a different fate than I would accept for myself?

No question about it. I still didn't see any way that we could avoid the possibility of wrongfully executing an innocent defendant. I couldn't, in good conscience, continue to support capital punishment.  And, with that, my support for capital punishment gasped it’s final breaths. Yes, Cameron Willingham was innocent, and he was wrongfully executed.

I haven’t looked back since. I don’t believe that the death penalty is wrong because it puts guilty people to death, but rather, because in the past it has, and will continue to, execute the innocent as well.  Making the wrongfully convicted defendant a large part of my internal conversation on the death penalty, and connecting with his or her experiences, has allowed me to accept factual arguments against the death penalty.

I don’t mention any of this to hold myself out as a beacon of thoughtful, enlightened reasoning. Rather, this process has taught me how difficult it is to change one’s opinions and beliefs, even when faced with differing empirical evidence. Research from psychologists and political scientists sheds some light on why this is so.

In a landmark 1979 study, Charles Lord, Lee Ross and Mark Lepper examined how a person’s existing political stances were affected by the introduction of evidence which undermined and challenged a person’s prior beliefs. The three researchers introduced a series of statements to a survey sample of 48 people, half of whom supported, and half of whom opposed, the death penalty.  

Each participant in the experiment was presented with two fictional studies, one of which cast a favorable light on the death penalty (that murder rates decreased in many states, after adoption of the death penalty), while another seemed to undermine it (in pairs of states, one of which implemented the death penalty, and in the other, with no death penalty, states with no death penalty actually had lower murder rates).

After being told about these studies, each participant in the survey was provided with an academic research methodology, by which each study in this experiment was generated. That is, they were told that a study used either cross-sectional or longitudinal survey methods. The experiment was designed so that half of those who supported the death penalty were told that the (fictional) study which provided support for capital punishment used the cross-sectional method, while another half were led to believe that this same study used the longitudinal method. The same was done with opponents of the death penalty, such that half of death penalty opponents were told that the study opposed to the death penalty used the longitudinal method, and the other half were informed that the cross-sectional method was utilized here.

Subjects were also told that the study which challenged their existing beliefs used a different method than that which supported those stances. Thus, an anti-death penalty individual might be told that the study which offered arguments against capital punishment (and thus supported his current stance) used the cross-sectional method, while a study supportive of capital punishment used the longitudinal method.

At the end of this study, Lord and his colleagues made a fascinating discovery: people tended to discount evidence and methods that ran counter to their existing views, while accepting evidence that confirmed these initial beliefs. Additionally, subjects grew more, not less, entrenched in their viewpoints, after hearing the studies supportive of and opposed to their stated position.

Those who supported the death penalty, and were told that pro-death penalty research used the cross-sectional research method, would offer reasons for why this method was superior to the alternative longitudinal research method. Yet, other death penalty supporters, who were presented with the same studies, and told that the study supportive of capital punishment used the longitudinal approach, set forward arguments for why the cross-sectional research technique was flawed, and the longitudinal approach was preferable. Opponents of the death penalty behaved no differently; they too offered reasons for why the particular research methods used in studies that bolstered their beliefs, were actually more appropriate and effective than those present in studies that opposed their existing stances.

What's really happening here? Rather than assessing evidence for it's empirical value, individuals accept those facts and arguments which supplement with their existing views, while finding reasons to discount that which does not. In the end, people become more, not less, entrenched in their existing stances, despite being offered evidence which undermines and challenges what they already believe.

Lord and his co-authors weren't the only academics to find that people were all too willing to pick and choose what to believed. Brendan Nyhan of Dartmouth University and Jason Reisler of Georgia State University conducted another study, which found that, for many people with strong views on a particular political question, being presented with corrective evidence of a factual inaccuracy in these beliefs actually led to backfire, or a strengthening of their existing opinions. For others, these misperceptions didn't grow stronger, but rather, their views remained the same in spite of disconfirming evidence.

Nyhan and Reisler discovered this by running several experiments. In the first experiment, people read a newspaper article which reported on a campaign stop by President Bush, during the 2004 election cycle. In this appearance, Bush told an audience that there was a strong risk that Saddam Hussein would pass weapons of mass destruction to terrorist organizations, and so it was crucial to attack Iraq. Of course, as we now know, no such weapons were ever found. Liberals, moderates, and conservatives (determined by a general test of political orientations), all participated in this study.

Nyhan and Reisler sought to better understand how those with strong conservative beliefs (who were more likely to accept President Bush’s claims, and support the military campaign against Iraq) would react to corrective information that, contrary to what Bush implied in his speech, no weapons of mass destruction were ever found in Iraq. 

After reading a note that corrected Bush’s claims on weapons of mass destruction, liberals and moderates altered any erroneous belief they held, that weapons of mass destruction were found in Iraq. Yet, conservatives became more likely to believe that these weapons were found, after being presented with the same corrective information.

Another experiment by Nyhan and Reisler, this time correcting the belief that the 2001 Bush tax cuts increased federal government revenue (another argument offered by President Bush) found a similar backfire effect amongst conservatives, while, as with the previous question, moderates and liberals accepted this corrective information.

The study’s authors also sought to assess the strength of backfire amongst liberals. To this end, they tested how people’s political leanings affected corrections of the (erroneous) belief that President George W. Bush had banned stem cell research (an incorrect argument advanced by both Senators Edwards and Kerry during the 2004 Democratic presidential primary, since President Bush only banned federal funding for stem cell research, but did not eliminate the possibility of private funding for such research). This experiment applied similar methods, having subjects of varied political leanings read an article quoting Kerry’s and Edwards’ claims that Bush had banned stem cell research, and then testing the effect of subsequent corrections on people’s views.

Unlike conservatives, there was no backfire effect amongst liberals, when corrected on this misconception. However, there was a neutralization effect, where, while conservatives and moderates were less likely to believe that Bush had banned stem cell research, after reading this corrective information, liberals continued to maintain their erroneous beliefs. Thus, to varying degrees, both liberals and conservatives appear unreceptive to factually accurate evidence that corrects mistaken beliefs.

Examining my longstanding support for the death penalty, we can observe some of the flaws in thinking, which the researchers in the aforementioned studies spotted. In order to discount Willingham’s innocence, I tried to convince myself that I couldn't really know what happened in his case, since I wasn't present when the deadly fire occurred.  

I also searched for reasons to disbelieve the veracity of arson evidence. I was, I now know, searching for reasons to believe that Willingham was guilty, because, if he were innocent, it would pierce the moral veil in which I had shrouded my support for capital punishment. 

My search for reasons to believe in Willingham's guilt, is indicative of what Lord and his colleagues observed in their studies, with people deliberately discounting evidence that contradicts what they already believe.

Nyhan and Reisler’s work also seems to have some applicability here, in that when I was offered “corrective” information (that an almost certainly innocent defendant had been executed), I recoiled from accepting such evidence. While I didn’t grow stronger in my pro-death penalty views (as did Republican voters in Nyhan and Reisler’s study), I didn't' alter my existing beliefs without considerable resistance.

What helped me finally accept Willingham’s near-certain innocence, and ultimately shift my thinking, was empathy. Research has shown that empathy is a powerful force in human interaction. People tend to feel the pain of others whom they are close to (such as a friend), much more intensely than when such suffering is inflicted on someone who appears unfamiliar. Empathy also allows us to function as more effective leaders, and can improve creativity and critical thinking.  In the case at hand, empathy allowed me to humanize a person, and so accept a set of facts that contradicted a longstanding worldview.   

I’ve learned how hard (in fact, nearly impossible) it is to truly be an objective thinker, and to accept evidence at face value, rather than through the lens of how it interacts with our existing stances. Such resistance seems hardwired into our psyches. Yet, it is also crucial for ultimately painting a more reasoned and accurate picture of the world we live in.

The real question is, if I were presented with credible evidence that another longstanding political viewpoint suffers from misconceptions and inaccuracies, would I change my views? In the absence of powerful empathy, or some other deeply felt emotion, it certainly won’t be easy. And, I now know, I’m not the only one.    

Gerrymandering: Misdiagnosis of a problem

The October 2013 government shutdown has generated a lot of talk about the seemingly hopeless political divisions within Congress. Political pundits, politicians, and citizens alike have all been seeking to understand and explain just why Washington is unable to reach any semblance of consensus on so many of the most difficult issues before us, ranging from entitlement spending to healthcare policy to immigration reform. We hear a number of explanations offered, ranging from the highly ideological nature of the Tea Party movement within the Republican Party to the intense disagreement and division surrounding the Affordable Care Act, which some argue has carried over to other policy matters. While the recent budget agreement, passed by Congress and signed by President Obama at the end of December, along with a recent vote to raise the debt ceiling without another government shutdown, provided a welcome respite from the utter dysfunction of the past several years, the specter of crippling political division still looms large over Capitol Hill. 

 One frequently cited explanation for both Republican control of the House of Representatives, as well as the discord in that body, is gerrymandering; that is, the drawing of Congressional districts to be exceptionally favorable to members of a particular party. In an early 2013 interview with The New Republic, President Obama argued that many House Republicans hailed from “sharply gerrymandered district that are very safely Republican”,  and so many House members felt little obligation to pay heed to “broad-based public opinion.” Meanwhile, prominent commentators like constitutional scholar Sanford Levinson to Slate political analyst David Weigel have argued that gerrymandering is the primary reason for the fractious nature of national politics, and a major factor in how Republicans managed to retain control of Congress in the 2012 elections, in spite of Democratic House candidates winning more total votes than Republican candidates did . At the state and local level, concerns that gerrymandering unfairly favors Republicans has driven activists in Florida and elsewhere to propose state Constitutional amendments to mandate  a nonpartisan redistricting processes.

 

While it is certainly true that gerrymandering affects the electoral makeup of the House, it’s role is significantly overstated in much of today’s political discourse. Rather, the composition of the House, and it’s political leanings, are largely a product of the existing geographic distribution of voters within the nation, as well as the electoral advantages enjoyed by incumbent members of Congress.  Additionally, the degree of ideological difference between moderate, versus liberal or conservative House members of the same party, is not as sharp as commonly thought, while differences between Democrats and Republicans as a whole, are highly pronounced. Both of these dynamics contribute to the political clashes within Congress.

In an analysis of the 2012 presidential election, statistician Nate Silver found that while President Obama defeated Governor Mitt Romney by 4 points in the popular vote, there were significantly more Congressional districts that were carried by large margins by President Obama, than by Mitt Romney. Specifically, while there were 44 Congressional districts which President Obama carried by 50 points or more (meaning that Obama carried at least staggering 75% of the vote or more in these districts) , there were just 8 such districts which were so highly skewed in favor of Governor Romney. Since the portion of votes cast for a particular presidential candidate within a district is a strong predictor of which party’s House candidate will win that seat, a high concentration of Democratic votes suggests a district where Democrats will win Congressional seats by large margins.  Chris Cilizza of the Washington Post followed up on these findings, noting that in 2012, while 51% of House Democrats won their districts with 67% or more of total votes cast, just 29% of GOP members of the House won their districts by the same margin.

Districts which vote so heavily in favor of one party are essentially “wasted votes,” from a standpoint of winning seats in Congress. After all, if a party’s presidential candidate wins elections in a given district with 75% of the vote, it is highly improbable that any member of Congress from the opposite party will be elected. Yet, a district with a significantly smaller margin of victory for a presidential candidate, perhaps say 60% of the vote, would still be a safe seat for a Congressional candidate of the same party, while dispersing votes for the party amongst a greater number of districts, and thus making other seats more competitive.

A recent study by Jowei Chen of the University of Michigan and Jonathan Rodden of Stanford University demonstrates exactly how Democrats are inherently disadvantaged by electoral geography. Using data from the 2000 presidential elections, and focusing on Florida as a case study, Chen and Rodden showed that Democratic voters tend to be packed into densely populated city centers, while Republican votes are more widely dispersed throughout less tightly packed suburban areas. Additionally, heavily Democratic precincts tend to be located in close proximity to other heavily Democratic precincts, much more often than Republican districts are located close to other heavily Republican districts. It is important to remember that in Florida, like many other states, Congressional districts are drawn by members of the state Legislature, who propose and vote on potential district layouts.

As a result, Chen and Rodden found, even a completely non-political process of drawing Congressional districts is likely to result in Congressional districts that are overwhelmingly Democratic, usually well beyond the threshold required for a district to safely remain in Democratic hands. Meanwhile, Republican-leaning Congressional districts generally contain enough Republicans to remain safely in the hands of GOP Congressmen, without concentrating Republican voting strength to the same overwhelming extent as for Democrats.

Using a series of computer-generated scenarios, Rodden and Chen discovered that if Democrats won 50% of the total votes for House candidates within a state (that is, 50% of all votes cast for Congressional candidates, across every district in Florida), Democrats always end up with less than 50% of the House seats. In fact, examining the redistricting proposals submitted by Democratic members of the Florida legislature (the GOP controlled the state legislature in 2002, but Democrats were allowed to propose potential Congressional districts for the record), not one of the proposals introduced by Florida Democrats would have resulted in Florida’s congressional delegation being 50% Democratic, in cases where Democrats won 50% of House votes in the state. The districts that were eventually implemented by the Republican-controlled legislature fell within the range of options envisioned in Chen and Rodden’s experiments. 

Chen and Rodden extended this type of analysis to a number of other states, and found that the concentration of Democratic votes in urban and high-density areas consistently applied in these states as well, and tended to reduce Democratic representation in the House. Comparing redistricting scenarios with actual districts (as was done in their Florida analysis), Chen and Rodden also found that in all cases, actual districts in a given state fell within the range of scenarios predicted by the electoral geography of that state. This suggests that while there may be partisan bias in the district creation process, depending on who controls the state legislature, such bias is largely dwarfed by the existing electoral geography of a state.

Incumbency, specifically, the financial and organizational advantages of being a current member of the House, as opposed to running for the first time, also plays a major role electoral advantages currently enjoyed by Republicans. John Sides of George Washington University and Eric McGhee of the Public Policy Institute of California sought to test the effects of incumbency on the 2012 House results. Incumbency typically carries significant advantages in terms of visibility, fundraising, and political experience, which led to incumbents winning reelection 90% of the time, in 2012 House and Senate races.

 In 2010, when Republicans retook control of the House by winning 63 seats formerly held by Democrats (in large part, thanks to Democrats who retired from office in 2010), numerous Republican candidates were running for office for the first time. In 2012, these candidates were running as incumbents. Statistically accounting for this incumbency advantage, Sides and McGhee found that any advantages of gerrymandering were markedly reduced; that is, as Sides and McGhee put it: “...the ability of Republicans to retain the House majority may have been due to incumbency advantage, not new and more favorable districts. “

 Sides and McGhee acknowledge that the effects of gerrymandering cannot be completely dismissed or overlooked, but since most arguments about gerrymandering don’t fully take incumbency advantages into account, they believe that gerrymandering is overstated as a factor in the party composition of Congress.

So how many seats did gerrymandering actually cost House Democrats in 2012? Estimates vary. Sam Wang of Princeton University has argued that Democrats would have won 15 more seats in the absence of gerrymandering, while Nicholas Goedert of Washington University in St. Louis found that gerrymandering cost Democrats 9 House seats, and Sides and McGhee believes it cost Democrats 7 seats. What all these estimates have in common is that in each scenario, even if gerrymandering were nonexistent, Democrats would have been unable to retake the House. Additionally, in each of these hypotheticals, the number of seats lost to gerrymandering is significantly smaller than those lost to inherent Republican advantages like electoral geography and incumbency.

As noted earlier, President Obama and other observers have contended that gerrymandering results in districts which are heavily skewed towards Republican House members. Obama, and others who share his reasoning, seem to believe that Republicans who represent these overwhelmingly Republican districts don’t fear defeat at the hands of Democrats, and so are significantly less responsive to wider public opinion, which often holds an unfavorable view of actions like the 2013 government shutdown.  Those who subscribe to this line of reasoning often believe, as President Obama stated in a press conference held during the recent debt ceiling stalemate that shuttered the federal government, that  Republicans in “gerrymandered districts” were “more worried about a Tea Party challenger than they are about a general election where they’ve got to compete with a Democrat or go after independent votes.” As a result, Republicans in such districts, it is believed, are reluctant to compromise with Democrats.

As we now know, it is untrue that most of Republican advantage in terms of winning House seats stems from gerrymandering. Still, is it accurate to say that House members from heavily Republican districts are more ideological and inflexible than those from less overwhelmingly Republican districts?

Boris Shor of the University of Chicago studied this question by comparing the liberalism or conservatism of 2012 House candidates, with the share of the 2008 vote that was received by President Obama in a particular House district. Shor found that while there was some correlation between the ideology of a particular House candidate, and the portion of the vote that Obama received in their district in 2008, this correlation was much smaller than the substantial ideological differences between members of the two major parties. That is, while there are differences between moderates and ideologues (that is, between moderate and liberal Democrats, or moderate and conservative Republicans) within a given party, these differences are significantly smaller than the wide chasm between Democrats and Republicans running in the same types of districts (that is, districts where Obama won a particular share of the 2008 presidential votes).

This reality weakens President Obama’s argument that the unwillingness of many House Republicans to compromise on issues like the debt ceiling or the Affordable Care Act, is in large measure a product of the high portion of Republican voters in some gerrymandered Congressional districts. If that were the case, we would expect to see more pronounced differences on these matters amongst Republicans, depending on the share of votes won by President Obama in their district. However, that isn’t what is actually happening. A breakdown of the ideological leanings of candidates from both parties, measured against the partisanship of the districts that they were running in, can be found here.

Shor also found that the most highly conservative Republicans, unlike moderate Republicans, and both liberal and moderate Democrats, are largely unresponsive to the electoral makeup of the districts they run in. These very conservative Republicans can be found as candidates (and sometimes win seats) in districts where President Obama won over 50% of the 2008 vote, and also in districts where he was soundly defeated with less than 25% of votes cast. Regardless of how many Obama voters live in their district, these representatives remain steadfastly to the right in their political beliefs. Thus, while gerrymandering can certainly play some secondary role in the composition of a particular House district, the primary role of gerrymandering in the fierce partisan divide in the House still remains largely unproven.

Why does it matter that gerrymandering is a far less significant issue than so many analysts, politicians, and even voters believe it to be? In medicine, the misdiagnosis of an ailment will often lead to ineffective, and perhaps even harmful, approaches to treatment, while ignoring the real causes of sickness or poor health. The same is true in politics. After all, how can a major challenge like making the House more functional and cooperative be effectively addressed, when the underlying causes of current political divisions are misunderstood? By focusing on gerrymandering as a major cause of the party makeup of, and partisanship within the House, activists, politicians, and analysts are attempting to provide an incorrect, simplistic solution to a complex challenge, and thus wasting valuable time in the process.

Those worried about partisanship in Congress might try focusing on various ways to reform campaign finance spending, where incumbents generally enjoy a substantial advantage. They could also attempt to bolster third parties. Such an approach might allow these parties to win more seats in Congress, which could break the stranglehold the two major parties hold over American politics, and possibly force members of the House to be less recalcitrant, as they would face a loss of power, if voters chose alternative leadership.Whatever the solutions to the gridlock that ails us today, gerrymandering is a small part of the problem, and we would all do well to not make it a bigger issue than warrants it’s size and scope.