Why do philosophers have long beards?
Why Hanlon's Razor can help us today
Gracious reader,
Question: Why do philosophers have long beards?
Answer: Because they use Hanlon’s Razor.
If this joke doesn’t make sense to you right now, it will in a moment, once I explain Hanlon’s Razor (if you didn’t already know), and why it can help us today.
Hanlon's Razor
Often, life with others can be vexing, feeling like death by a thousand paper cuts.
We frequently make life harder than it needs to be by assuming the worst about others. When we attribute a person's actions—or inactions—to malice, we, as the Stoics might say, allow ourselves to be hurt twice: once by the original action and then again by reliving it and harboring anger.
When we are tempted to view others and the world around us as part of a cosmic scheme against us, and when we take the actions of others too personally, this is where Hanlon’s Razor comes in handy.
A philosophical "razor" refers to the "shaving away" of unnecessary assumptions to distill a maxim of truth.
[This is why the opening joke is funny! Why do philosophers have long beards? Because they use Hanlon’s Razor—which isn’t a real razor at all! Even after using it, they still have facial hair because it’s not a physical razor, but a philosophical one. Hence, they’re still bearded. Get it? I know, I know. There’s no quicker way to kill a joke than to explain it…]
Hanlon’s Razor states:
“Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.”
It’s human nature to assume that the world revolves around us. When someone does something that bothers us, we often default to the least charitable assumption: “They did this on purpose!”
It’s easy to ascribe intent.
Hanlon suggests we’ve got it all wrong. Most of the time, it’s not malice, but incompetence, thoughtlessness, and stupidity—or just people having their own priorities—that are more likely to blame.
Stories of condemnation vs. exoneration
Hanlon’s Razor relates to an idea I explore in my book, The Soul of Civility: Timeless Principles to Heal Society and Ourselves.
I distinguish between stories of condemnation and exoneration. In a dispute, our natural inclination is to tell a story that condemns the other person.
“They meant to hurt me… They did this on purpose,” these stories cry.
This isn’t good for our psyche. It’s not healthy to nurse wounds that foster resentment toward others.
I say this isn’t healthy for you while admitting that I don’t always practice this myself!
Instead, I elevate my late Grandma Margaret as an exemplar of telling stories of exoneration—stories that don’t convict and condemn others for their conduct, but that exonerate them.
If someone cut my Grandma Margaret off in traffic, she would muse, “They’re probably on the way to the hospital to visit a loved one who is dying.”
If someone rudely brushed her off, she’d say, “They probably just lost their job.”
She was utterly selfless, and she knew that people’s conduct was often more about them than about her.
Grandma didn't assume people were stupid when they didn't act as she might want or expect, as Hanlon's Razor suggests. Instead, she believed they were hurting, temporarily too consumed with their own affairs to consider how their actions affected others.
Hanlon’s Razor and Grandma Margaret’s stories of exoneration are important correctives to this timeless human tendency to see the world exclusively through our own lens, and to fail to see things globally, holistically, from the perspective of others.
I’ve found both ideas helpful as I navigate the sticky wicket of life with others, and I hope you do, too.
Questions for you to consider—please share your thoughts in the comments below!
Why do you think it’s so much easier to assume the worst about others—to assume malice in their motivations and tell stories of condemnation—rather than to assume the best?
Describe a time when you used Hanlon’s Razor, or told a story of exoneration, in the face of an uncomfortable social interaction.
Describe a time when you assumed the worst about someone—and got it all wrong.
Regarding that last prompt, I’ll go first. One time, I was mildly annoyed when we hosted a couple for dinner and they offered to reciprocate but didn’t. I later learned that one of them had been treated for cancer. Another time, I was frustrated with a friend for being out of touch and ignoring my attempts to talk with her. I later learned she was going through a divorce.
We never know what is going on in the lives of others. When in doubt, try not to assume the worst—but the best.
Take the charitable interpretation; tell the story of exoneration, as my Grandma Margaret often did.
Or, as Hanlon reminds us, even assuming incompetence is better than assuming malice!
Looking ahead:
August 6 - National Conference of State Legislatures, Louisville, KY
Our baby boy is set to arrive somewhere around Sept 15th, so I am planning to take some time off—but have no fear. I’ve lined up some excellent writers to help infuse your life with beauty, goodness, and truth—and to help you think more clearly about our day by reviving the wisdom of the past!
November 12- Greater Muncie Chamber of Commerce, Muncie, IN
November 14- Berry College, Mt. Berry, GA
November 19- Hillsdale College, Hillsdale, MI
In the news:
Thanks so much to ABC Channel6, WRTV and ABC for the conversation about how civility and basic respect for personhood are the antidotes to our crisis of division — recorded from my front porch! Click here to watch!
How to Be a Better Human Podcast: I loved talking with Chris Duffy on his excellent TED podcast about How to be civil even if you disagree (w/ Alexandra Hudson)
TIME Magazine— What Emily Post and Daniel of Beccles Can Teach Us About Civility Today
Thank you for being part of our Civic Renaissance community!
Hanlon's razor brought up (to me) some of Jesus' last words: "Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do."
Thanks for the inspiring examples of your Grandmother. I have thought along those same lines; but not nearly every time someone does something negative towards me. I continue to practice.
"Why do you think it’s so much easier to assume the worst about others [...] rather than to assume the best?"
A good part of it may be that assuming the best requires us to consider consciously the (ultimately unknowable) lives of others -- including the infinite number of reasons why anyone might do *anything* -- rather than to just say, "I know this *one* thing about myself, which is that I am hurt/disappointed/inconvenienced." (In a way, it's why empathy is harder than sympathy, which too often is simply dismissive of the other person's interiority.)