I recently read an article by Scott Alexander called “The Cowpox of Doubt”. It appeared to make an analogy between weak arguments against theories like homeopathy or the moon landing hoax, and inoculation. Like how inoculation involves using a weak pathogen such as cowpox to build immunity against a stronger pathogen like smallpox, presenting weak arguments against a position leads people to end up becoming immune to much stronger arguments against the same position.
For example if you claim that there are no studies that show homeopathy to be effective, people in favour of homeopathy can refute it by showing that such studies exist (but presumably not good ones?). Now if you came up with a much stronger argument, they might be much less inclined to listen.
But he also talks about the effect on intelligent people who don’t believe in “dumb theories”. If you waste time debunking such theories, which they never believed, then you will strengthen their other beliefs, which may not seem so “dumb” but may nonetheless be wrong, and prevent them from experiencing real doubt.
Whilst reading this article the idea seemed very familiar. I felt I had come across something like it not long ago yet around that time I had mostly been reading fiction. Then I remembered where I had encountered a similar idea. It was in an Agatha Christie story. As I will be obliged to divulge plot details, if you care about spoilers, please avoid reading any further until you have read “The Love Detectives”.
This early short story is not one of her famous stories although the idea in question also appears in some of her later and better-known works in slightly different forms. It features the mysterious figure of Mr Quinn and the elderly connoisseur and “onlooker at life” Mr Satterthwaite, whose paths cross when some problem occurs that needs to resolved.
A man is murdered and his beautiful young widow and another young and attractive man both confess to the crime. Initially they are believed but subsequent investigation discredits their stories and the investigators, Colonel Melrose and Mr Satterthwaite, conclude that they are innocent and that they confessed in order to protect each other.
Later however, Mr Quinn points out that if their stories had not been not so flawed
“They might have been believed”
The realisation that very weakness of the confessions has strengthened their belief in the innocence of the pair is disconcerting
“They had an uneasy feeling as of solid ground falling beneath their feet. Facts went spinning round, turning new and unexpected faces.”
Unlike the classic character of the all-knowing detective who takes centre stage and elucidates mysteries that baffle everyone else with astounding confidence, Mr Quinn is himself something of a mystery and he prefers to remain in the shadows and to guide others to come up with the solution. He subtly leads characters to experience doubt and to question all that they have take for granted about a situation or incident until they realise that the truth has been in front of them all the time but remained obscured by their unchallenged beliefs.
In another story “The Dead Harlequin”, unscrupulous characters are able exploit superstition to cloak their villainous deeds, knowing that the rationally-minded people around them will be dismissive of seemingly supernatural occurrences. Superstition here is analogous to a dumb theory which prevents rational folk from considering the possibility that these events might have a basis in fact whilst they maintain incorrect beliefs as to what really happened.
After the breakdown of their original theory, “The Love Detectives” are obliged to begin again from scratch but eventually they manage to build a much stronger case against the widow and her lover. At the conclusion Mr Satterthwaite discovers that all along he has been in possession of solid proof of their guilt. He had literally been holding it in his hand but had paid little attention to this mere fragment of glass until made to see differently by Mr Quinn.