Grand Unified Theories

Remember? I'm no longer a scientist. This isn't about physics.

When I was young, I thought people were fundamentally the same. But I didn't really understand well why people did what they did. So, through some classes and independent reading, and with the passion of a lonely only child, I devoted some of my life to trying to figure people out. Why do people do what they do? Why do we feel what we feel? Or, screw everyone else -- why the hell do I do the things I do?

I think, at some point, the allure of the questioning wears off. It stops feeling deep. It stops feeling meaningful. Instead of feeling like thoughtful scholars in a college lounge, contemplating existence over some wine (or other substances), it starts seeming like, well, something drunk or high wastrels do when they are drunk or high.

But more than that, we decide what people are. Experiences, positive and negative (but especially negative), shape our beliefs on human nature. That, in turn, shapes our beliefs about our social, political, economic, sexual, and religious lives. We decide what we are, and who we are -- and more than that, we decide who everyone else is, too.

We decide people are inherently good, or inherently evil. We decide whether those on welfare need it, or are moochers. We decide whether people of other traditions are an opportunity for growth or a threat, or both. We decide, more or less, how much to worry about the past, the present, and the future. We decide whether obstacles make people stronger or are discriminatory. We decide whether or not men and women and unborn babies deserve death.

And we decide that it is true for everyone, or at least enough people, for it to guide our behavior.

I've been looking for that grand unified theory of human behavior. It started with a bit of religion and philosophy. Then a bit of history. Economics was a key component. I stumbled across some sociology and psychology.

But it didn't get more simple. Unlike what we expect for good theories in the natural sciences, sociological theories don't get more elegant, more predictive, more powerful. They get diffused in detail and case-based evaluations. It's not because human behavior is endlessly complicated -- I sincerely doubt that. A

nd I have no idea why the hell it isn't like that.

For whatever reason -- complexity, some mathematically chaotic process, or shitty analysis -- we don't have a grand unified theory of humans.

And I don't think we're going to get one.

Even more importantly, I don't think we need one.

The belief that there is a unified theory is literally killing us.

It is the belief in the existence of universal truth, and the need to enforce that truth above others, that is the root of our religious and ideological warfare. It is the belief in a commonality that ignores different environments, and the potential for simple unpredictability, that have led us to make horrible foreign policies, often, in America's case, based on what is empirically false assumption that all all of us -- leaders and citizens alike -- are essentially after the same things, and that any gaps are due to misunderstanding that is bridgeable by better communication, empathy, or argument.

It is the belief in a universal truth -- simplicity where there is none -- that has caused our economic policies to be dictated by ideology than empiricism. If the free market is right, it has to be right all the time. If Keynesianism is right, it has to be right all the time.

That's total nonsense, especially when we look at the assumptions -- stated or implied -- that have to work. For example, neoclassical economic policies work given certain conditions that preclude market failure -- information, zero transaction costs, negligible barriers to entry, etc. Even if the conditions aren't perfectly met, they work pretty well a lot of the time (assuming the goal is, say, total GDP, instead of equally shared wealth -- another assumption). Keynesianism economic policies work pretty well when markets aren't working like "normal", or when labor has information about wages of coworkers (and fear of losing the job is less than fear of falling behind). Behavioral economics builds in even more psychology -- though, as it acknowledges itself -- there are different regimes for human thinking and analysis that make a universal model problematic. (You can throw in more coefficient weightings, but at some point it becomes an empirical model, not a theory.)

The absence of a theory doesn't excuse ignorance. We should all know neoclassical AND Keynesian AND Behavioral and perhaps even Hayekian economics -- the assumptions, the implications, and limitations of each "school". We should be able to articulate why we cling to one view or another, and be honest whether our preferred perspective of human nature might not be confirmed in a given situation.

Most of us might not have the time and inclination to carry around nearly innumerable bits of knowledge about cognitive biases, biological-behavioral relationships, sociological models, persuasion tactics, and religious traditions and send some observationally/empathetically derived metaphorical punchcard into the poorly-coded mess of our own minds.

Even if we actually did all this, it might not be worth it. Life is meant to be lived, and some mistakes are a lot more fun than we think. (See: Shitty Dates).

So maybe most of us don't have to. And that makes us no different than where we were, except for one thing:

We embrace the humility that we don't have a grand unified theory, that there might never exist one, and that it's toxic and maladaptive to even believe that one exists.

In other words, go ahead and worry about why your partner/friend/relative/boss is so fucked up and different. But, even if you figure them out, don't count on getting much stuff to be used elsewhere.

You're welcome to try -- especially if you're a therapist, pastor, forensic psychologist, politician, or someone else for whom, I suppose, it's important to see patterns in human behavior. I know I'll keep playing armchair economist and sociologist, just because it's fun and makes me feel like I've got stuff to say that is worth listening to (despite considerable evidence to the contrary).

But I suspect we'd be a lot happier and better at life if we just worked on our relationships with specific individuals, and assume whatever successes or patterns we discover work only for them. That just might keep us out of trouble, and make us better human beings to each other.