It’s about more than being right — it’s about survival.

The philosophy of desire, intellectual value systems, and resisting change.

Introduction

The history of philosophy often feels like an endless cycle of people trying to figure out how we can achieve certainty only to conclude that it is impossible.

Unfortunately, the consensus appears to be that humans — though conscious, sentient beings — don’t have all the information.

Yet, we argue, debate, and disagree with one another as if we held the objective truth of reality; defending ourselves from the needless antagonism of lesser, inferior opposition who appear set to simply destroy truth.

Well, at least our version of the truth.

If the inherent nature of our perspective is that it is limited, finite, and incomplete then why do we resort to defending such inchoate comprehension?

Being honest about our inherent subjectivity and phenomenological existentialism ought to lead us to collaborate with one another — you’d think we would be constantly embarking on the journey to learn as much as possible.

Such is not the case.

The issue, I believe, has less to do with being right and more to do with our fear of the unknown.

Different Perspectives Threaten Our Identity

Our common approach to disagreements — where we defend positions, argue, and compete against the apparent antagonist who sees the world differently — isn’t too far removed from barbaric tribalism disguised as intellectualism.

Actual footage of modern-day arguments | graphic by author.

We have our position.

We encounter someone with a different position.

Which threatens our position.

And since our position is enmeshed with our self-image, they become an enemy.

Who must be eliminated.

Or else we might lose our identity.

Succumbing to a different perspective is akin to having the castle walls breached; as if seeing the world differently is the same as being occupied by a foreign invader.

We, quite literally, fight to keep that from happening.

But why?

Why is a different perspective a threat?

Further, why is our perspective seen as synonymous with our identity?

Reason One — The Philosophy of Desire

The proposition is that we, as human beings, crave certainty. We desire comfort and assurance in an ambiguous, difficult world.

In response, we gravitate toward intellectual value systems — any perspective, ideology, or structure of existence that offers a larger explanation of existence than we can conjure up ourselves — that we can belong to. This could be:

Organized religious affiliation
Political affiliation or ideology
Various worldviews or philosophical schools — including the scientific community
Cultural lifestyles
Et — as they say — cetera.

Adherence to such a group offers a semblance of closure that accomplishes our innate, internal desire for certainty and security.

A common theme in sociology is that human beings crave predictability and stability. Having a plausible conception of the world is an appealing way to make life feel a bit more predictable and stable.

The maze of life is a wondrous journey full of possibility, potential, and, of course, fear. Our philosophy of desire takes the beautiful maze that is life’s journey and — locking the doors so as to keep out any threat — turns the maze of human existential experience into a prison.

This is a means of survival.

It is a tribal tendency to close off and protect and it is quite natural.

We close off from anything foreign or different because those alien comprehensions appear to be at odds with what has given us a pretense of meaning, clarity, and security.

The comfort of the echo chamber is preferable to the uncertainty of the unknown. We’d rather have the reverberating soundwaves of confirmation bias because it offers what our finitude yearns for.

Yet, it also keeps us from exploring any territory that is unknown.

These mazes-turned-prisons, therefore, perform a psychological, biological, and sociological role that showcases the beholden ailments of the human condition and the methodologies we use to enhance our survival. The self-isolated construct accomplishes an individualized goal of what our brains and consciousness seem hardwired to desire, yet which remains effervescently elusive.

Hence, we come in contact with a different perspective and we draw rhetorical swords; not because we are valiantly defending truth or saving the world from perverse conceptions of ontological fraud.

Rather, because there is much at stake if our certainty is shown to not be so certain.

We’d rather have those reverberating soundwaves of confirmation bias than reconsider our framework of existence.

Our banal confidence asserts that we must be right.

Because the very ground under our feet is at stake.

Reason Two — We Always Resist Change

We avoid changing our perspectives for the same reason that we often avoid changing our behavior.

Change is disruptive
Change is a loss
Change is a difficult and slow process

Why We Resist Change

There are actually three reasons: Disruption, Loss, & Slowness

medium.com

However, changing your perspective differs from behavioral change in two important ways.

If you are trying to lose weight or quit a substance addiction, the decision to make that change is incredibly simple. Manifesting the change, however, is vastly more difficult and, often, never comes to completion.

If you are trying to change your perspective on something — well, most people don’t even consider trying to change their perspective because, again, our perspective or ideology is not something we consider to be external to us (compared to, say, our behavior or physical characteristics).

One does not associate their existence with the habit of being a smoker or a heavy social media scroller.

Behaviors exist in our identity very differently than belief.

Behaviors are things we do, not things that we are.

In fact, we often define ourselves based on purely mental constructs and, as a result, see our perspectives as synonymous with identity.

This means that changing a perspective is both easier and harder than changing behavior.

It is easier because, unlike losing weight or quitting a substance, changing a perspective has no inherent or physical barrier; it does not require time or energy. You can, technically, choose to change your perspective in an instant with no work whatsoever.
It is harder than changing behavior because you aren’t just disrupting norms or losing a familiar component to your life — changing your perspective is the equivalent of losing and disrupting the very essence of who you are.

Not only will it feel like we have to admit that we were wrong, but we may also feel as if we were wrong for all those years.

Rewiring our perception of the world?

Why would we want to consider that?

Arguing is Staying Alive

Witnessing an argument, then, is witnessing a fight to stay alive (in an existential sense, of course).

This is also why winning an argument doesn’t really affect the other person, either. Arguments are attacks, not invitations. There is no exchange of information.

Rather, you are potentially taking away the ground under someone else’s feet and every inch of their mortal soul will fight to make sure that isn’t the case. Ever wonder why, even with your astute logic and flawless points, some people just aren’t convinced? Because people don’t only just submit to their own evidence, their very perseverance and maintenance of their identity are on the line.

Religious folks are often accused, rightly so, of having an unfalsifiable ideology — that no evidence can disprove their perspective.

Yet, in an existential way, anyone who clings to a perspective — even the materialist atheist who shuns religion — may be guilty of the same closed mindset of resisting change and clinging to intellectual value systems in the pursuit of certainty.

Essentially, this is a phenomenological issue.

The world is based on how you experience the world — perception is reality — and how you see the world impacts and forms your understanding of the world.

This leads us to prematurely conclude that our perceptions completely contain reality and we hold onto our opinionated absolutes like the deus ex machina of ancient Greek plays. Our affirmed perspective becomes the only perspective and we cease searching or exploring the world. We lock the doors while basking in the reverberating sound waves of our confirmed chambers.

Like the sudden endings in those ancient plays — this is a lazy way to resolve the tension of our finite experience in the duration of our lifespan.

Arguing becomes a phenomenological means of survival.

Our only option to respond to disagreements is to defend.

As a result, you’ll probably never have someone respond to your great point by saying:

Wow. I never thought of it like that. I will now throw away everything I’ve staked my identity on and everything I’ve worked to create a comfortable conception of reality all because you attacked my position better than I could have defended it.

Kingdoms never lost a battle or and went, “You know, you’re the better foe. So be it.” The vengeance just cyclically continues. We humans don’t give up that easily — especially when our universe is at stake.

The philosophy of desire through intellectual value systems and our resistance to change are the reasons why.