information more deeply, that potential is realized
in some situations but not
others. New research reveals that people are more likely to promote
diversity and inclusion when the message is more nuanced (and more
accurate): “Diversity is good, but it isn’t easy.”
*
Acknowledging
complexity doesn’t make speakers and writers less convincing; it makes
them more credible. It doesn’t lose viewers and readers; it maintains their
engagement while stoking their curiosity.
In social science, rather than cherry-picking information to fit our
existing narratives, we’re trained to ask whether we should rethink and
revise those narratives. When we find evidence that doesn’t fit neatly into
our belief systems, we’re expected to share it anyway.
*
In some of my past
writing
for the public, though, I regret not having done enough to
emphasize areas where evidence was incomplete or conflicting. I
sometimes shied away from discussing mixed results because I didn’t want
to leave readers confused. Research suggests that many writers fall into the
same trap, caught up in trying to “maintain a consistent narrative rather than
an accurate record.”
A fascinating example is the divide around emotional intelligence. On
one extreme is Daniel Goleman, who popularized the concept. He preaches
that emotional intelligence matters more for performance than cognitive
ability (IQ) and accounts for “nearly 90 percent” of success in leadership
jobs. At the other extreme is Jordan Peterson, writing that “There is NO
SUCH THING AS EQ” and prosecuting emotional intelligence as “a
fraudulent concept, a fad, a convenient band-wagon, a corporate marketing
scheme.”
Both men hold doctorates in psychology, but neither seems particularly
interested in creating an accurate record. If Peterson
had bothered to read
the comprehensive meta-analyses of studies spanning nearly two hundred
jobs, he’d have discovered that—contrary to his claims—emotional
intelligence is real and it does matter. Emotional intelligence tests predict
performance even after controlling for IQ and personality. If Goleman
hadn’t ignored those same data, he’d have learned that if you want to
predict performance across jobs, IQ is more than twice as important as
emotional intelligence (which accounts for only 3 to 8 percent of
performance).
I think they’re both missing the point. Instead of arguing about
whether
emotional intelligence is meaningful, we should be focusing on the
contingencies that explain
when it’s more and less consequential.
It turns
out that emotional intelligence is beneficial in jobs that involve dealing with
emotions, but less relevant—and maybe even detrimental—in work where
emotions are less central. If you’re a real estate agent, a customer service
representative, or a counselor, being skilled at perceiving, understanding,
and managing emotions can help you support your clients and address their
problems. If you’re a mechanic or an accountant, being an emotional genius
is less useful and could even become a distraction.
If you’re fixing my car
or doing my taxes, I’d rather you didn’t pay too much attention to my
emotions.
In an effort to set the record straight, I wrote a short LinkedIn post
arguing that emotional intelligence is overrated. I did my best to follow my
own guidelines for complexity:
Nuance: This isn’t to say that emotional intelligence is useless.
Caveats: As better tests of emotional intelligence are designed, our
knowledge may change.
Contingencies: For now, the best available evidence suggests that
emotional intelligence is not a panacea. Let’s recognize it for what
it is: a set of skills that can be beneficial in situations where
emotional information is rich or vital.
Over a thousand comments poured in, and I was pleasantly surprised
that many reacted enthusiastically to the complexified message. Some
mentioned that nothing is either/or and that data can help us reexamine even
our closely held beliefs. Others were downright hostile. They turned a blind
eye to the evidence and insisted that emotional intelligence was the sine qua
non of success. It was as if they belonged to an emotional intelligence cult.
From time to time I’ve run into idea cults—groups
that stir up a batch
of oversimplified intellectual Kool-Aid and recruit followers to serve it
widely. They preach the merits of their pet concept and prosecute anyone
who calls for nuance or complexity. In the area of health, idea cults defend
detox diets and cleanses long after they’ve been exposed as snake oil. In
education, there are idea cults around learning styles—the notion that
instruction should be tailored to each student’s preference for learning
through auditory, visual, or kinesthetic modes. Some teachers are
determined to tailor their instruction accordingly despite decades of
evidence that although students might enjoy listening, reading, or doing,
they don’t actually learn better that way. In psychology, I’ve
inadvertently
offended members of idea cults when I’ve shared evidence that meditation
isn’t the only way to prevent stress or promote mindfulness; that when it
comes to reliability and validity, the Myers-Briggs personality tool falls
somewhere between a horoscope and a heart monitor; and that being more
authentic can sometimes make us less successful.
If you find yourself saying
____ is always good or ____ is never bad, you may be a member of an idea
cult. Appreciating complexity reminds us that no behavior is always
effective and that all cures have unintended consequences.
xkcd.com
In the moral philosophy of John Rawls, the
veil of ignorance asks us to
judge the justice of a society by whether we’d join it without knowing our
place in it. I think the scientist’s veil of ignorance is to ask whether we’d
accept the results of a study based on the methods involved, without
knowing what the conclusion will be.