2. Gigerenzer’s conceptual reject-the-norm argument

К оглавлению1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 
17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 
34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 
51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 
68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 
85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 

Gerd Gigerenzer begins his conceptual reject-the-norm argument by

noting that there are a number of different interpretations of the standard

axioms of probability (1996). He then argues that on a frequentist interpretation

of probability, subjects’ answers to many of the HB problemtasks

are not errors. The frequency interpretation of probability states that

the probability of an attribute A is the relative frequency with which A

occurs in an unlimited sequence of events. So when subjects are given a

problem-task that involves assigning a probability to a single event (e.g.,

the probability that this patient has a disease), Gigerenzer argues that from

a frequentist perspective, such probability statements are meaningless. So

far so good.

At this point, one might suppose that Gigerenzer’s argument is going

to turn empirical. After all, everyone admits that it is an interesting and

important question how these subjects represent the problem to themselves.

But Gigerenzer never attempts to argue that experimental subjects

are in fact consistently interpreting probability statements in a frequentist

way. This is ironic because when it comes to another HB problem-task,

Hertwig and Gigerenzer (1999) argue that in evaluating subjects, it is

essential to know how they are understanding the problem. (To be fair,

Gigerenzer often argues that ‘‘the mind is a frequentist.’’ But by this

he seems to mean that our minds are set up to solve problems framed

in terms of frequencies and not probabilities [e.g., Gigerenzer 1991].

Gigerenzer does not argue that subjects interpret probability statements in

a frequentist way; for example, he does not offer any evidence for thinking

that subjects take single-event probability statements to be meaningless.)

Putting aside worries about how subjects understand single-event

probabilities, it is worth exploring the normative assumptions behind

Gigerenzer’s frequentist arguments. As far as we know, Gigerenzer has not spelled his epistemological presuppositions in any detail. So it might be

useful to look at what he has to say about the single-event probability

problems. After introducing frequentist and subjectivist views of probability,

Gigerenzer argues:

I will stop here and summarize the normative issue. A discrepancy between

confidence in single events and relative frequencies in the long run is not an

error or a violation of probability theory from many experts’ points of view.

(Gigerenzer 1991, 88–9, emphasis added)

In discussing the well-known Linda problem, where a significant percentage

of subjects deem the probability of a conjunction to be higher than

the probability of one of the conjuncts, Gigerenzer argues:

For a frequentist, this problem has nothing to do with probability theory.

Subjects are asked for the probability of a single event (that Linda is a bank

teller), not for frequencies. . . .

To summarize the normative issue, what is called the ‘‘conjunction fallacy’’

is a violation of some subjective theories of probability, including Bayesian

theory. It is not, however, a violation of the major view of probability, the

frequentist conception. (Gigerenzer 1991, 92)

In discussing base rate neglect, Gigerenzer’s line is the same. Given certain

conceptions of probability, subjects’ answers are not a violation of probability

theory, and so not an error.

[S]ubjects were asked for the probability of a single event, that is, that ‘‘a

person found to have a positive result actually has the disease.’’ If the mind

is an intuitive statistician of the frequentist school, such a question has no

necessary connection to probability theory. (Gigerenzer 1991, 93)

So how does Gigerenzer handle base rate neglect? He notes that subjects

are asked for a single-event probability: Does a particular patient have a

disease? On a frequentist view of probability, it makes no sense to assign

probabilities to single events, so this question is meaningless. For a frequentist,

therefore, this problem is akin to the problem of deciding

whether to wear blue socks or red socks—probability doesn’t give us an

answer. No matter how the subject responds, that response is not a violation

of probability. As a result, subjects’ answers are not errors in the

sense that they are not violations of probability. But keep in mind,

Gigerenzer does not try to make the case that subjects are understanding

the problems in any particular way. The reason subjects’ answers are not

errors is that there is some interpretation of probability on which subjects’ answers are not a violation of the axioms of probability. In order for

Gigerenzer’s frequentist argument to work, he must be assuming something

like the following:

Gigerenzer’s Normative Assumption: If there are a number of different

‘‘legitimate’’ ways to solve a problem and a subject’s answer is not an error

on at least one of those ways of solving the problem, then regardless of how

the subject understands the problem, the subject’s answer is not an error.

Putting aside obvious worries about this formulation (including what

counts as a ‘‘letigimate’’ solution to a problem), we can grant that Gigerenzer’s

frequentist argument shows that HB problems that ask subjects to

assign probabilities to single events cannot in some sense make ‘‘errors.’’

And we can perfectly well spell out the sense of ‘‘error’’ that is meant:

Subjects’ answers are not violations of probability given some particular

conception (or conceptions) of probability. Rather than repeat this mouthful

every time we want to talk about this particular sort of error, let’s say

that Gigerenzer’s frequentist argument shows that for certain HB problems,

those that ask subjects to assign probabilities to single events, subjects cannot

make G-errors (or Gigerenzer-errors).

Granting that subjects don’t make G-errors leaves the most important

normative issues untouched. When someone neglects base rates and reasons

on the basis of a diagnostic test to the conclusion that he very likely

has cancer, there are lots of errors he hasn’t made. He hasn’t made a

G-error or violated the laws of logic; he isn’t guilty of a spelling or a

grammatical mistake; he hasn’t made a mistake by unwittingly engaging in

activity that is criminal or immoral; he hasn’t violated the rules of chess or

made a stupid move by failing to protect his queen; and he has not made

any errors of geometry or calculus. There is a galaxy of errors he hasn’t

made. But it doesn’t follow that he has reasoned well; nor does it follow

that he hasn’t made some other sort of error. Gigerenzer’s frequentist

argument leaves open the possibility that Gigerenzer will win the battle but

lose the war. That is, it is open to us to grant him the conclusion that

subjects don’t make G-errors but still argue that they reason poorly and

make significant errors.

To be fair, Gigerenzer is responding to a tradition that holds that

subjects are making errors because they suffer from ‘‘probability blindness’’

(Piattelli-Palmarini 1994, 130–32). Piattelli-Palmarini suggests the

following ‘‘probabilistic law: Any probabilistic intuition by anyone not specifically

tutored in probability calculus has a greater than 50 percent chance

of being wrong’’ (1994, 132). Here is perhaps the clearest articulation from

Kahneman and Tversky of what makes a subject’s answer an error:

‘‘The presence of an error of judgment is demonstrated by comparing

people’s responses either with an established fact . . . or with an accepted

rule of arithmetic, logic, or statistics’’ (1982, 493). Given these views

about what counts as an error, it is natural that Gigerenzer should have

focused on G-errors: on whether there is some interpretation such that

subjects’ answers do not violate the laws of probability. But if philosophers

have any useful role to play in Ameliorative Psychology, it is to critically

evaluate the epistemological assumptions underlying disputes about

normative matters. In this case, we suggest that these assumptions be

jettisoned.

This normative debate about whether to count subjects’ answers as

errors culminated in a somewhat heated exchange (Kahneman and Tversky

1996; Gigerenzer 1996). From our perspective, however, this debate takes

place within unnaturally narrow normative constraints. The parties to the

debate take the main issue to be whether subjects have violated the laws of

probability. Gigerenzer thinks that the mind is a frequentist, and given a

frequentist interpretation of probability, subjects often do not violate the

laws of probability (1991, 1996). Kahneman and Tversky argue that given

how subjects understand the problems (i.e., they don’t deem single-event

probability statements meaningless), subjects do violate the laws of probability

(1996). While there are any number of moves each side to this

debate can make, we will proceed by breaking free of the debate’s narrow

normative confines. This is a strategic decision. It is not based on the

assumption that this debate cannot proceed productively within its narrow

normative limits. Instead, our strategy depends on realizing that the

issue we’re most interested in is the quality of subjects’ reasoning; and that

is an issue we can address with Strategic Reliabilism. In other words,

Strategic Reliabilism provides us a framework for thinking about relative

reasoning excellence, which is typically what we’re most concerned about

when assessing a subject’s reasoning; and this framework will often allow

us to resolve disagreements about how to evaluate a particular episode of

reasoning. In some cases, when a normative disagreement has become

stuck on an issue other than the relative excellence of a subject’s reasoning,

Strategic Reliabilism can help us to break the stalemate. We bypass the

narrow issue on which we are stuck and focus on what we take to be the

main issue: How well are subjects reasoning?

The fundamental problem with Gigerenzer’s frequentist argument is

that people can make extraordinarily serious errors of reasoning that wouldn’t count as G-errors. For example, when a man tests positive for

prostate cancer, he wants to know whether he has prostate cancer. In order

to make decisions, he might want to ask: Given the positive result, what

are the chances that I actually have prostate cancer? In such a situation, it

is hard to imagine anyone seriously pointing out that frequentists would

deem this a meaningless question—or worse yet, explaining to the patient

that he is a frequentist, and so his own question can have no meaning for

him. If a doctor tells his patient that he has a 99% chance of having cancer,

the patient is surely going to have some sort of understanding of what is

being said. (It is unlikely, for example, that he will react with glee.) And

that understanding will play a role in what might well be life-or-death

decisions. When medical practitioners make diagnoses and ignore base

rates, people who are highly vulnerable will end up acting on misleading

information. And those actions will too often lead to horrible results—to

tragically mistaken decisions to treat or not treat a condition or to deep

psychological trauma. And no amount of philosophical pussyfooting can

change that. How are we to understand what sort of error the subject

makes and why his reasoning is less than excellent? We will discuss the

answer provided by Strategic Reliabilism in chapter 9. Our discussion will

make clear the irony of our critique of Gigerenzer’s conceptual reject-thenorm

argument: Gigerenzer perfectly well understands and accepts our

central contention—that base rate neglect involves poor reasoning and

some kind of error, even if it is not a G-error.

Gerd Gigerenzer begins his conceptual reject-the-norm argument by

noting that there are a number of different interpretations of the standard

axioms of probability (1996). He then argues that on a frequentist interpretation

of probability, subjects’ answers to many of the HB problemtasks

are not errors. The frequency interpretation of probability states that

the probability of an attribute A is the relative frequency with which A

occurs in an unlimited sequence of events. So when subjects are given a

problem-task that involves assigning a probability to a single event (e.g.,

the probability that this patient has a disease), Gigerenzer argues that from

a frequentist perspective, such probability statements are meaningless. So

far so good.

At this point, one might suppose that Gigerenzer’s argument is going

to turn empirical. After all, everyone admits that it is an interesting and

important question how these subjects represent the problem to themselves.

But Gigerenzer never attempts to argue that experimental subjects

are in fact consistently interpreting probability statements in a frequentist

way. This is ironic because when it comes to another HB problem-task,

Hertwig and Gigerenzer (1999) argue that in evaluating subjects, it is

essential to know how they are understanding the problem. (To be fair,

Gigerenzer often argues that ‘‘the mind is a frequentist.’’ But by this

he seems to mean that our minds are set up to solve problems framed

in terms of frequencies and not probabilities [e.g., Gigerenzer 1991].

Gigerenzer does not argue that subjects interpret probability statements in

a frequentist way; for example, he does not offer any evidence for thinking

that subjects take single-event probability statements to be meaningless.)

Putting aside worries about how subjects understand single-event

probabilities, it is worth exploring the normative assumptions behind

Gigerenzer’s frequentist arguments. As far as we know, Gigerenzer has not spelled his epistemological presuppositions in any detail. So it might be

useful to look at what he has to say about the single-event probability

problems. After introducing frequentist and subjectivist views of probability,

Gigerenzer argues:

I will stop here and summarize the normative issue. A discrepancy between

confidence in single events and relative frequencies in the long run is not an

error or a violation of probability theory from many experts’ points of view.

(Gigerenzer 1991, 88–9, emphasis added)

In discussing the well-known Linda problem, where a significant percentage

of subjects deem the probability of a conjunction to be higher than

the probability of one of the conjuncts, Gigerenzer argues:

For a frequentist, this problem has nothing to do with probability theory.

Subjects are asked for the probability of a single event (that Linda is a bank

teller), not for frequencies. . . .

To summarize the normative issue, what is called the ‘‘conjunction fallacy’’

is a violation of some subjective theories of probability, including Bayesian

theory. It is not, however, a violation of the major view of probability, the

frequentist conception. (Gigerenzer 1991, 92)

In discussing base rate neglect, Gigerenzer’s line is the same. Given certain

conceptions of probability, subjects’ answers are not a violation of probability

theory, and so not an error.

[S]ubjects were asked for the probability of a single event, that is, that ‘‘a

person found to have a positive result actually has the disease.’’ If the mind

is an intuitive statistician of the frequentist school, such a question has no

necessary connection to probability theory. (Gigerenzer 1991, 93)

So how does Gigerenzer handle base rate neglect? He notes that subjects

are asked for a single-event probability: Does a particular patient have a

disease? On a frequentist view of probability, it makes no sense to assign

probabilities to single events, so this question is meaningless. For a frequentist,

therefore, this problem is akin to the problem of deciding

whether to wear blue socks or red socks—probability doesn’t give us an

answer. No matter how the subject responds, that response is not a violation

of probability. As a result, subjects’ answers are not errors in the

sense that they are not violations of probability. But keep in mind,

Gigerenzer does not try to make the case that subjects are understanding

the problems in any particular way. The reason subjects’ answers are not

errors is that there is some interpretation of probability on which subjects’ answers are not a violation of the axioms of probability. In order for

Gigerenzer’s frequentist argument to work, he must be assuming something

like the following:

Gigerenzer’s Normative Assumption: If there are a number of different

‘‘legitimate’’ ways to solve a problem and a subject’s answer is not an error

on at least one of those ways of solving the problem, then regardless of how

the subject understands the problem, the subject’s answer is not an error.

Putting aside obvious worries about this formulation (including what

counts as a ‘‘letigimate’’ solution to a problem), we can grant that Gigerenzer’s

frequentist argument shows that HB problems that ask subjects to

assign probabilities to single events cannot in some sense make ‘‘errors.’’

And we can perfectly well spell out the sense of ‘‘error’’ that is meant:

Subjects’ answers are not violations of probability given some particular

conception (or conceptions) of probability. Rather than repeat this mouthful

every time we want to talk about this particular sort of error, let’s say

that Gigerenzer’s frequentist argument shows that for certain HB problems,

those that ask subjects to assign probabilities to single events, subjects cannot

make G-errors (or Gigerenzer-errors).

Granting that subjects don’t make G-errors leaves the most important

normative issues untouched. When someone neglects base rates and reasons

on the basis of a diagnostic test to the conclusion that he very likely

has cancer, there are lots of errors he hasn’t made. He hasn’t made a

G-error or violated the laws of logic; he isn’t guilty of a spelling or a

grammatical mistake; he hasn’t made a mistake by unwittingly engaging in

activity that is criminal or immoral; he hasn’t violated the rules of chess or

made a stupid move by failing to protect his queen; and he has not made

any errors of geometry or calculus. There is a galaxy of errors he hasn’t

made. But it doesn’t follow that he has reasoned well; nor does it follow

that he hasn’t made some other sort of error. Gigerenzer’s frequentist

argument leaves open the possibility that Gigerenzer will win the battle but

lose the war. That is, it is open to us to grant him the conclusion that

subjects don’t make G-errors but still argue that they reason poorly and

make significant errors.

To be fair, Gigerenzer is responding to a tradition that holds that

subjects are making errors because they suffer from ‘‘probability blindness’’

(Piattelli-Palmarini 1994, 130–32). Piattelli-Palmarini suggests the

following ‘‘probabilistic law: Any probabilistic intuition by anyone not specifically

tutored in probability calculus has a greater than 50 percent chance

of being wrong’’ (1994, 132). Here is perhaps the clearest articulation from

Kahneman and Tversky of what makes a subject’s answer an error:

‘‘The presence of an error of judgment is demonstrated by comparing

people’s responses either with an established fact . . . or with an accepted

rule of arithmetic, logic, or statistics’’ (1982, 493). Given these views

about what counts as an error, it is natural that Gigerenzer should have

focused on G-errors: on whether there is some interpretation such that

subjects’ answers do not violate the laws of probability. But if philosophers

have any useful role to play in Ameliorative Psychology, it is to critically

evaluate the epistemological assumptions underlying disputes about

normative matters. In this case, we suggest that these assumptions be

jettisoned.

This normative debate about whether to count subjects’ answers as

errors culminated in a somewhat heated exchange (Kahneman and Tversky

1996; Gigerenzer 1996). From our perspective, however, this debate takes

place within unnaturally narrow normative constraints. The parties to the

debate take the main issue to be whether subjects have violated the laws of

probability. Gigerenzer thinks that the mind is a frequentist, and given a

frequentist interpretation of probability, subjects often do not violate the

laws of probability (1991, 1996). Kahneman and Tversky argue that given

how subjects understand the problems (i.e., they don’t deem single-event

probability statements meaningless), subjects do violate the laws of probability

(1996). While there are any number of moves each side to this

debate can make, we will proceed by breaking free of the debate’s narrow

normative confines. This is a strategic decision. It is not based on the

assumption that this debate cannot proceed productively within its narrow

normative limits. Instead, our strategy depends on realizing that the

issue we’re most interested in is the quality of subjects’ reasoning; and that

is an issue we can address with Strategic Reliabilism. In other words,

Strategic Reliabilism provides us a framework for thinking about relative

reasoning excellence, which is typically what we’re most concerned about

when assessing a subject’s reasoning; and this framework will often allow

us to resolve disagreements about how to evaluate a particular episode of

reasoning. In some cases, when a normative disagreement has become

stuck on an issue other than the relative excellence of a subject’s reasoning,

Strategic Reliabilism can help us to break the stalemate. We bypass the

narrow issue on which we are stuck and focus on what we take to be the

main issue: How well are subjects reasoning?

The fundamental problem with Gigerenzer’s frequentist argument is

that people can make extraordinarily serious errors of reasoning that wouldn’t count as G-errors. For example, when a man tests positive for

prostate cancer, he wants to know whether he has prostate cancer. In order

to make decisions, he might want to ask: Given the positive result, what

are the chances that I actually have prostate cancer? In such a situation, it

is hard to imagine anyone seriously pointing out that frequentists would

deem this a meaningless question—or worse yet, explaining to the patient

that he is a frequentist, and so his own question can have no meaning for

him. If a doctor tells his patient that he has a 99% chance of having cancer,

the patient is surely going to have some sort of understanding of what is

being said. (It is unlikely, for example, that he will react with glee.) And

that understanding will play a role in what might well be life-or-death

decisions. When medical practitioners make diagnoses and ignore base

rates, people who are highly vulnerable will end up acting on misleading

information. And those actions will too often lead to horrible results—to

tragically mistaken decisions to treat or not treat a condition or to deep

psychological trauma. And no amount of philosophical pussyfooting can

change that. How are we to understand what sort of error the subject

makes and why his reasoning is less than excellent? We will discuss the

answer provided by Strategic Reliabilism in chapter 9. Our discussion will

make clear the irony of our critique of Gigerenzer’s conceptual reject-thenorm

argument: Gigerenzer perfectly well understands and accepts our

central contention—that base rate neglect involves poor reasoning and

some kind of error, even if it is not a G-error.