Resolve to let clarity prevail over nonsense: Here’s a handy guide

- A lot that’s said is well-intentioned nonsense. To inoculate ourselves from doing it, we must use simple language, empathize with other people, not take ourselves too seriously, and be kind.
Harry Frankfurt, in a 1986 essay and later in his book On Bullshit, explored the phenomenon that may politely be described as ‘talking nonsense.’ The essence that he arrived at was that while a liar tries to hide the truth, the one speaking such nonsense has no regard for the truth.
This is more dangerous than lying, as it spreads the very notion of truth being up for grabs. I wrote earlier about a particular kind of such nonsense, which I called WIBS, or well-intentioned nonsense.
Bad-intentioned nonsense is not in short supply either, particularly in social arenas where the goal is to influence large masses of people, such as in politics or business.
But WIBS comes from people who sincerely believe they are speaking the truth, or something about the truth, and for good purposes. But they are untethered from reality as they are in the vice grip of three forces.
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A commitment to abstraction and methods of abstractions—from economics or sociology or from policy discourse and the like. Self-righteousness—stoked by ideology or the self-gratifying notion that they are doing good or know better, or both. And finally, a distancing from the lives of people that leaves them out of touch.
Our world is increasingly full of WIBS, manufactured by the three-force engine of abstraction, self-righteousness and distancing. Some arenas of our work are particularly suitable for this engine: universities, think-tanks, policymaking circles, multilateral agencies, donors and such-like.
Not all people in these places nor all of these places are sources of WIBS. But most of these institutions are structurally suited for it.
It would be a bit too much for me to claim that I know how to deal with this phenomenon, particularly because I am myself part of many of these institutions and so can be justifiably charged with being one more contributor to WIBS. But I try not to, having learnt from observation how some others manage to stay clear of it.
Let us focus on what individuals can do to inoculate and insulate themselves from becoming sources of WIBS. Because it does boil down to the individual, even if the institutional setting provides the soil for the phenomenon to grow or die. Actions can be taken, and institutions should use their structures and mechanisms to encourage and even mandate these actions.
So, what can individuals do?
First, we must talk simply and directly. Without any jargon from any discipline, area of expertise or ideology. An excellent test of this is to be able to communicate effectively with the people who will be affected by whatever one is saying and the front-line that will do the work.
Can we explain to them what we are trying, why it will work and how they will be affected? Can we also explain how all this will happen in the reality of the here-and-now, with the available resources and constraints, including the unchanging political and governance culture. And for this, go and talk to them in their milieu, not ours.
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Second, we must reduce the distance from the lives of real people. The best of us have the courage to eliminate these distances by living with other people. But most of us who can’t do that can reduce the gap. A few days of village or slum tourism won’t help. We must do this enough to feel the lives of others.
Their sorrows and joy, hopes and despair, and the intricate mesh of community that fosters all this. We can only do this by establishing connections, and not by visiting. For example, walk across to the nearest slum and try to get Aadhaar or Ayushman Bharat cards made for those who don’t have them.
This will reveal a parallel universe to ours. Spending a third of our work time with these real lives is a good rule of thumb to keep us connected to the real world.
Third, let’s not take ourselves too seriously. “Main pal do pal ka shaayar hun, pal do pal meri kahaani hai; Pal do pal meri hasti hai, pal do pal meri jawaani hai". I can’t say it better than the great Sahir. “I am but a poet of a few moments," meaning better people than us have come and gone and will do so again.
More dedicated, more knowledgeable and wiser, and thus more effective. Whatever ideology fires us also has flaws. It too will get replaced.
Fourth, let us be kind. As kind as we can be. In everyday interactions. With the vegetable seller, street sweeper, CISF personnel at the airport, street dogs and other animals around us, just about everyone. Kindness in everyday life is a magic wand that I can only aspire for.
Those who wield it banish abstractions, cut distances, make connections and most certainly take themselves lightly. There is no particular silver bullet for anything in this world; but kindness is a solution for WIBS and much else. It also helps us become better human beings, bit-by-bit.
One early winter evening, as we exited a Japanese restaurant, the driver of our car opened the boot to excitedly show us the track pants that he had bought for his son for ₹200. Invaluable joy for ₹200 outside a place where you don’t get a soda for twice that price. Revealed only by the kindness that had set up a relationship where he felt like sharing his joy.
Such kindness, we can all aim for in our daily lives. And it washes away all the WIBS and other sins to reveal truth and humanity.
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