Tag: Artificial intelligence

The Social Brain, by Tracey Camilleri, Samantha Rockey & Robin Dunbar

Whether it’s the tragic death of Willy Loman in A Death of A Salesman, or Lester Burnham’s midlife crisis in American Beauty, a persistent theme in popular culture is a gnawing sense of alienation people feel running the modern day rat race.

If you’ve ever felt this way, you’re not alone. Given that we spend the vast majority of our adult lives working, it’s more than understandable why work can monopolise our mental real estate. And whilst work can mould our identities, boost our status and connect us with like-minded people, work by no means makes us immune to loneliness.

What is about working life that can make us feel so alienated and isolated, and what can we do to prevent it?

In The Social Brain: The Psychology of Successful Groups, the legendary psychologist Robin Dunbar joins forces with fellow Oxford University scholars, Tracey Camilleri and Samantha Rockey, where they apply Dunbar’s scientific discoveries to help us work more effectively, and ultimately, more humanely.

Robin spent the better part of two decades studying wild monkeys in Africa, to try and answer the ultimate question: why do some species develop their own societies? Initially, humans were only a fleeting interest to him. However, seeing our common ancestry reflected in our primate cousins forced Dunbar to look inwards.

In another world orbiting Oxford University’s academic universe, Tracey and Samantha were studying another exotic primate: business executives.

Through their executive education at Saïd Business School, Tracey and Samantha heard endlessly of business leaders complaining of feeling disconnected, and at times overwhelmed, by the nature of their work and the sheer size and scale of their businesses’ operations.

Perhaps the size of their groups was a factor, Tracey and Samantha wondered? The authors write:

When we think about teams and groups, we think about their functions and responsibilities and about developing their value to us and the talents of those involved. Only rarely do we stop to think about their size. Can a department be too big to function well? Can a team be the wrong size to cope with the task assigned to it? To what extent can the toxic cultures that sometimes grow up in organisations – the ‘us and them’ mentality – be explained by the size of the groups within them? At what point does a conversation become unmanageable?

To help shed light on these otherwise invisible forces, Tracey and Samantha roped Robin in to teach on their executive programme. Here, Robin gave the corporate bigwigs a rundown on how we humans are constrained by three fundamental factors when navigating our social worlds: the size of the human brain, the release of hormones, and, ultimately, our limited time on planet Earth.

“Many organisations, particularly large ones, ignore the fact that our psychology, as humans, is designed to cope with a very small-scale social world. And, as a consequence, they struggle to function well”, write the Oxford trio. They continue; “By incorporating a better understanding of human nature and its origins, we inevitably have a better chance of playing to its strengths and avoiding the consequences of its weaknesses.”

Named after the big man himself, Dunbar’s Number is the purported natural limit to the number of people with whom we can maintain meaningful relationships with. Informally, Dunbar’s Number is ‘the number of people you would not feel embarrassed about joining uninvited for a drink if you happened to bump into them at a bar’. (Perhaps an updated definition is the number of people you would get scolded for unfollowing on Instagram.)

Having chased down wild monkeys in the heart of Africa, Dunbar discovered a correlation between the size of primates’ brains and their social groups (or, more specifically, the size of their brain’s neocortex, relative to the size of their brains overall. This is thought to be the ‘intelligent‘ part of the brain, which helps us navigate our social worlds). By taking the average size of the human brain’s neocortex and extrapolating the results of other primate species his team had gathered samples on, Dunbar proposed that humans can comfortably maintain around 150 stable relationships.

The first test of Dunbar’s Number was calculating the size of modern hunter-gatherer groups. Why? Because these hunter-gatherer societies reflect the communities humans spent millions of years living in before the advent of agriculture. Coincidently, these hunter-gatherer communities turned out to have an average size of almost 150.

San People Bush Walk, Kalahari Desert_ John C Bruckman

San Bushmen taking a stroll in the Kalahari Desert. The San People have lived in the Kalahari for approximately 20,000 years, making them the oldest inhabitants of Southern Africa. The average size of their bands is estimated to be 152. Image credit: John C. Bruckman

It’s not just brain imaging or yellowing anthropology books where Dunbar’s Number apparently pops up. For example, Dunbar’s team found that the number of people reached by the typical Brits’ Christmas card list was 154. And whilst you might think the infinite reach of social media would allow us to transcend such limits, surveys ran by Dunbar and his team found that the average number of friends Brits had on Facebook was between 155 and 183, which is in the ballpark predicted by the ‘Social Brain Hypothesis’.

According to Dunbar, our social networks are nested in ‘circles’ or ‘layers’, based on their level of intimacy, following rough powers of three: 5 people to whom we might turn for substantial emotional or financial support in a moment of devastating crisis (say, your romantic partner and close family members); 15 besties who you spend most of your spare time with; 50 good friends (the friends you would invite to your big birthday party), and 150 more casual friendships. Past these shores, you should be able to count up to 500 acquaintances, and you’ll be able to recognise roughly 1,500 people.

30 years of Dunbar’s scientific research suggests close-knit communities average roughly 150 people. Conversely, each layer of our social networks are roughly 3 times larger than the one inside it, determined by their level of closeness. Image credit: New Scientist

Scientists’ best estimate for the age of our species (assuming you’re a modern human) is now 300,000 years old. However, it was not until around 8,000 years ago that archaeologists spot villages of several hundred people cropping up, and not until 5,000 years ago that they count cities totalling tens of thousands of people. “The sea change brought about by living in permanent villages marked a distinct phase shift in the levels of structural stress that people had to cope with.”

Despite our great ancestors lives being far from rosy, Tracey, Samantha and Robin contend that, in humanity’s deep past, the frictions of social life were nixed by living in small, mobile bands. “If the stresses became too much, families were free to leave and find a more congenial group with whom to live. Permanent settlements made this solution impossible.” Once farming opened up Pandora’s Box, new forms of social organisation evolved, including warrior grades, priests, temples, moral codes, and the institution of marriage. “In short, we have been exposed to the stresses of large organisations only for the last few thousand years.”

So, what does this all mean? The main implication of Dunbar’s Number for the business world is that, if a group remains below 150 people, most matters can be dealt with on a largely informal basis. Once you pass 150 or so people, however, dark forces emerge that can destabilise groups. “It becomes more difficult to negotiate arrangements, information doesn’t flow well round the community, processes don’t work quite the way they were intended, silos build up that don’t communicate with each other, people start to be suspicious and less trusting of each other. Some kind of more formal management system becomes necessary to control relationships and transactions.”

Some titans of business seem to have intuitively grasped Dunbar’s Number. Most famously, Bill Gore, the founder of Gore, struggled when he shuffled his workers into their first factory.

One morning, when entering Gore’s newly minted plant, Bill became disoriented when he realised that he did not recognise a single person. In the 1980s, Bill Gore observed that, “when an organisation exceeds some limit, typically 150, people start thinking in terms of ‘they’ rather than ‘we’”. Factory workers couldn’t keep track of each other, and the sense of community Bill had worked so hard to build had gone. With this, Gore made the decision to cap his factories to a maximum of 150 employees. In these smaller factories, Dunbar shares, “everybody knew who was who. Who was the manager, who was the accountant, who made the sandwiches for lunch.”

Bill Gore (1958)

Wilbert L. (‘Bill’) and Genevieve (‘Vieve’) Gore launch W. L. Gore & Associates from the basement of their home in Newark, Delaware. 1st January, 1958. Image credit: Gore

It’s fair to say that Bill Gore was a maverick. Tracey, Samantha and Robin reflect on the dearth of leader’s heeding Gore’s lessons:

Unfortunately, far too many organisations – from businesses to schools to hospitals and government departments – have ignored the Gore lesson: Scale poses major challenges. As organisations succeed, they grow; in consequence, they inevitably develop fracture lines and inefficiencies that are a corollary of our limited abilities as humans to monitor and manage large numbers of relationships. As a result, many forever teeter on the edge of structural collapse, with a left hand that has no idea what the right hand is doing.

Interestingly, the Oxford trio concede that Gore’s policy of ‘150’ is not actually a fixed number. Debra France, the former head of learning and development at Gore, is quoted saying; “While our plants were originally set up as small units of 150, they’re now more like 250 – but probably with three shifts a day, so in reality the human unit is still small.”

Although not explicitly mentioned by the authors, debates are taking place in academic circles about the veracity of Dunbar’s Number. Remember Dunbar’s original study, exploring the correlation between primates’ brains and the size of their groups? Biologists stationed at Stockholm University recently tried to replicate Dunbar’s original correlations, using a larger dataset and more up-to-date statistical methods. Their analysis produced wildly different numbers depending on the statistical technique they used, and the uncertainty surrounding their estimates was “enormous”.

Other researchers have argued that the size of primates’ brains is best explained not by their social lives, but rather, what they eat. As fruit is harder to come by than abundant leaves (and therefore requires greater intelligence to obtain), the reasoning goes, having a bigger brain actually helps keep fruit chomper’s hunger at bay.

Despite these criticisms, there is clearly a limit to the number of relationships the human mind can manage. This varies considerably, presumably, by individuals’ intellectual horsepower and the complexity of their cultures, but a limit exists. And whilst brain imaging studies may be a little fuzzy, Dunbar and his collaborators have tried to measure the size of this ceiling using a range of different tools at their disposal.

Admittedly, calls to cleave a new business unit once the 150 mark has been breached is a tough sell. However, Tracey, Samantha and Robin also provide helpful guidance on forming teams that can be immediately implemented. Generally, work teams can comfortably range from 6 to 12 people, assuming everyone has a crystal clear understanding of their role. However, if chaos strikes and you need to make quick decisions during a moment of crisis, a team of 5 firefighters is most appropriate. Conversely, 50 is a good number for an expansive knowledge sharing session, so long as you have a attendant chair with a meeting agenda.

Whilst Dunbar’s Number gets a starring role in The Social Brain, it is not the only story. Having interviewed 50 eminent business leaders for their book, Tracey, Samantha and Robin share invaluable insights on how to help people survive and thrive in the wilderness of large corporations.

The wisdom distilled in The Social Brain boils down to one truism: organisations are not machines. Rather, organisations are collections of humans that possess a range of social superpowers, but also, mental limitations. “Management practices that have dominated thinking for the last century or so have invariably imagined organisations as akin to a clockwork mechanism. Improving the efficiency of an organisation is simply a matter of pressing the right buttons.”

Although industrialists of the 19th century made profound breakthroughs in increasing efficiency and scale by mechanistically dissecting management practices, the Oxford trio argue that the long shadow of the machine metaphor is now limiting human progress. “It’s not just that the machine metaphor is incorrect, either. It’s also harmful. In its construction of a world of predictable, robotic performance, it creates an assumption that, if human efforts fall short, the problem must lie with the individual concerned, not the system.”

Since the dawn of industrialisation, workers have lamented feeling mechanised, being reduced to mere cogs in a wheel. Today, as we grapple with the rapid evolution of artificial intelligence, our anxieties are rooted in artificial intelligence making us redundant.

Rather than replace us, let’s hope breakthroughs in machine intelligence will help us embrace our humanity.

Written by Max Beilby for Darwinian Business.

The Social Brain: The Psychology of Successful Groups is published by Penguin. Click here to buy a copy.

Strategic Instincts, by Dominic Johnson

Among political scientists, it’s widely believed that ‘cognitive biases’ (that is, quirks of the human mind) are not only detrimental, but responsible for some of history’s worst policy blunders. Whether it’s the Bay of Pigs fiasco, Chernobyl, or the Global Financial Crisis, it’s easy to think of colossal disasters that back this up. But is this really the whole story?

In his new book Strategic Instincts, Dominic Johnson, a Professor of International Relations at Oxford University, challenges this worldview, where he argues that seemingly irrational behaviour can, with the right dosage and in the right context, actually enhance performance in the arena of international politics.

Drawing on insights from the field of evolutionary psychology, Johnson makes the case that cognitive biases act as ‘strategic instincts’ that can provide politicians with a competitive edge in policy making— particularly in high stakes, and highly uncertain, military confrontations.

To test his theory, Johnson takes his readers on a tour of recent history, and places a trio of influential cognitive biases— overconfidence, the ‘fundamental attribution error’, and ingroup favouritism— under the microscope.

Fortune favours the bold

To start off our intellectual journey, Johnson turns the clock back to the 18th century and places us on the battlefield of the American War of Independence. By combing the historical and biographical accounts of the Revolutionary War, Johnson argues that the United States benefited in no small measure from a remarkable confidence— arguably overconfidence—that emanated from its charismatic founder, George Washington.

Before delving further, what does Johnson mean when he says George Washington was ‘overconfident’?A well-established finding from modern psychology is that mentally healthy people are generally overconfident (with men being particularly cocky). What this body of research suggests is that we individually tend to overestimate our abilities, as well as our control over life events, and we also underestimate our vulnerability to risk (although these are technically termed ‘positive illusions’, Johnson uses the catch-phrase ‘overconfidence’ for simplicity’s sake). In sum, we tend to think more highly of ourselves than who we really are.

Despite the substantial personal and social costs of pervasive positive illusions, Johnson argues overconfidence, in moderate amounts and in right context, can present a wealth of benefits. For example, those of us who are the most optimistically overconfident reap many benefits in life, including greater health and career success. Similarly, Johnson’s research outlines how overconfidence can give armies an upper hand on the battlefield.

According to Johnson, George Washington’s remarkable overconfidence encouraged him to fight and sustain the revolution against the British— despite the formidable odds stacked against him and his rebels. In the long and gruelling war in which Americans lost most of the military battles against the Red Coats (and struggled to even keep an army in the field), Johnson argues ambition and boldness paid off handsomely for Washington and his comrades.

As stated by Johnson:

Britain was the world’s leading military and economic power before and after the war. It was by no means yet in decline and was the odds-on favourite to win the war, or at least to end it on favourable terms. I suggest that Washington, in no small part by virtue of his great confidence, was able to turn the tables and seize victory from the jaws of defeat, an achievement epitomised by his daring raid across the Delaware. Joseph Ellis wrote that “the British commander, William How, could probably have won the war and ended the American Revolution in November of 1776 with more aggressive tactics. The Delaware crossing thus becomes a sudden reversal of fortune, as if an American mouse, chased hither and yon by a British cat, brazenly turned turns about and declares itself a lion”. And lions, not mice, win wars.

Washington’s bold crossing the icy Delaware river on Christmas night, 1776, in what many deem as the turning point of the war. Emanuel Leutze (1816-1868). Image credit: Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Know your enemy

Next, Johnson revisits the lead up to World War II, where he probes Britain’s perceptions of Adolf Hitler in the 1930s. Here, Johnson draws on the fundamental attribution error— a psychological quirk that journalist Robert Wright describes as ‘the most underappreciated cognitive bias’— to illustrate the logic of strategic instincts.

For those of us less familiar with the theory, what is the error exactly? The late Lee Ross coined the term ‘the fundamental attribution error’ back in the 1970s, in a scientific paper that has had an enduring impact on social psychology. When explaining the behaviour of other people, Ross and his intellectual descendants found that people generally place too much emphasis on their disposition (that is, on their innate personality traits and their essential ‘essence’). Conversely, people tend to put too little emphasis on the situation in explaining other’s behaviour (that is, on the circumstances that people find themselves in, and how this influences what they do).

What does this mean for international politics? Johnson clarifies that the fundamental attribution error doesn’t necessarily make us see other people’s behaviour as threatening, but it can make us see threatening behaviour as intentional. Similarly, Johnson claims that the fundamental attribution error can lead governments to be hyper vigilant and assume the worst from other states.

Intriguingly, Johnson makes the case for the fundamental attribution error’s absence in the lead up to World War II— and points to this as evidence for the cognitive bias’s effectiveness.

To elaborate, Britain’s appeasement of Hitler offers a reverse case where those in power behaved in contrast to what the fundamental attribution error would predict. At the time, the UK’s Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain strongly resisted making character judgements of Hitler, and instead emphasised the situation (where Chamberlain stressed the German desire to right the wrongs of the Treaty of Versailles, and to retain security over their remaining territory). Despite mounting evidence of Hitler’s ulterior motives, Chamberlain continued to give Hitler the benefit of the doubt— which Johnson claimed led to the disastrous policy of appeasement and the Munich crisis of 1938.

Neville Chamberlain at Heston Airport on his return from Munich after meeting with Hitler, September 1938. Chamberlain read out to the crowd the famous agreement, signed by Hitler, stating “the desire of our two peoples never to go to war with one another again”. Later that day, during a speech outside 10 Downing Street, he declared “peace for our time”. Image credit: Central Press/Getty Images.

Johnson therefore raises an unusual, counterfactual question: where was the fundamental attribution error when the world needed it most? After all, there were actors waiting in the wings whose thinking did in fact align with the fundamental attribution error (not least Winston Churchill, who insisted that Hitler was acting out of intentions to aggressively expand German territory and redouble their military power). Had the fundamental attribution error been stronger and more widespread among Western politicians at the time, Johnson argues that Britain could have stood up to Hitler earlier and more effectively, which as a result, would have avoided the atrocities of World War II.

United we stand

Johnson also argues that ‘ingroup favouritism’ (also known as the ‘ingroup-outgroup bias’) serves as a strategic instinct. What is ingroup favouritism, and why does Johnson consider it to be so influential in the world of international politics? As part and parcel of our coalitional psychology, we humans have a powerful tendency to favour our own groups and its members, and disparage the ‘outgroup’. This bias is so strong and ubiquitous that ingroup favouritism is essentially the bread and butter of social psychology.

Needless to say, such prejudices can have horrific consequences. Johnson argues that throughout human history, the ingroup bias has contributed to the oppression of minority groups, inflamed ethnic conflict, and has been implicated in genocide.

However, Johnson claims that in smaller doses and in appropriate settings, ingroup favouritism can be relatively benign and ‘highly adaptive’. To elaborate, Johnson argues that ingroup favouritism increases cohesion as well as coordinated action against rival groups, which together can increase group’s survival and overall effectiveness.

To evaluate these claims, Johnson parachutes us back to the Pacific War between the United States and Japan. Through his combing of the historical artifacts, Johnson argues that the United States was able to persist and ultimately prevail in the long and brutal Pacific campaign against the Japanese partially due to ingroup favouritism helping bolster the war effort (that is, by increasing cohesion among military personnel, boosting support for the war among Americans at home, and by sealing the commitment of America’s political leaders).

Conversely, Johnson argues that the Japanese took outgroup animosity to extreme levels, which sowed the seeds of their downfall. (The Japanese certainly did not have a monopoly on dehumanisation. However, Johnson argues that Japan’s demonisation of Americans severely distorted their thinking, compromising their estimations of risk and ultimately their military strategy).

American infantrymen secure an area on Bougainville, Solomon Islands, in March 1944, after Japanese forces infiltrated their lines during the night. Image credit: AP Photo.

Overkill: The limits of strategic instincts

In Strategic Instincts, Johnson clearly acknowledges the dark side of these cognitive biases, especially when taken to excesses. That is, when overconfidence becomes hubris, when attribution errors manifests into paranoia, and when ingroup favouritism fuels discrimination and racism. As stated by Johnson; “the in-group/ out-group bias can obviously be a serious impediment to cooperation, peace, and equality between different groups, and we must strive to reduce or manage it wherever it has malicious effects.”

Johnson also points out the pitfalls of only psychologising instances where things go wrong. If we want a complete understanding of how cognitive biases impact our decision making, we must count both sides of the ledger. To this end, Johnson argues that an evolutionary perspective offers the crucial next step in incorporating psychological insights into the field of international politics.

One may question Johnson’s emphasis on competition and military conflict, rather than on international cooperation. Notwithstanding the oversight of international institutions including the United Nations, Johnson asserts that the world lacks a global ‘Leviathan’, and is therefore engulfed in competitive anarchy. Despite his Hobbesian worldview, Johnson stresses that global cooperation is possible, and he’s hopeful of humanity’s ability to overcome seemingly insurmountable challenges.

Johnson writes:

We need inspiration for solving the collective action problems at the global level more than ever. Here, the current challenges to the planet are especially daunting and difficult, ranging from expanding populations and dwindling resources to species extinction and climate change. Some inspirational confidence in the face of such challenges could make all the difference.

I think Johnson makes several compelling arguments in Strategic Instincts. That said, there are elements of the book that one could critique. What stood out the most for me is that the latest findings from the field of cultural evolution appear to be missing. Exhibit A: Although overconfidence is a well-established finding from the field of psychology, cultural evolutionary theorist Michael Muthukrishna and his colleagues have detailed significant cultural differences in how overconfidence manifests.

Much of the literature cited by Johnson has been conducted with North Americans and Western Europeans. However, we now know that these people are really WEIRD. That is, they are Western, educated, industrialised, rich and democratic, which makes them psychological outliers among the world’s diverse inhabitants of humans. In other words, cognitive biases are not intrinsic human universals, but are prevalent to varying degrees, and manifest in different ways, across cultures.

These points aside, Johnson arguably makes a key contribution not only to the field of international relations, but to psychology itself. For various reasons, seeing cognitive biases as inherently detrimental has become the default assumption of many behavioural scientists. To challenge this prevailing view, Johnson eloquently illustrates how cognitive biases can confer advantages in politics— and what the implications of this are for everyday life.

Clash of the titans

What light can Strategic Instincts shed on global politics today? Johnson argues that the biggest question facing international relations may be rising tensions between the United States and China. Whilst the United States retains its hegemony in many spheres, Johnson implies that America’s dominance is quickly diminishing. If this trajectory continues, the implications are enormous. As stated by Johnson:

History tells a gloomy story about rising states. They have rarely risen peacefully, either because they begin a quest for expansion or because other states act to prevent from them doing so [sic], or from acquiring the ability to try. Normally, in such a context of rising tensions, overconfidence would be cited as an outright danger. The United States (or China) is likely to overestimate its own capabilities, exaggerate its own level of control over events, and maintain overoptimistic predictions about the future, all of which would seem to increase the probability of deterrence failure, crisis, and war.

Several intellectuals take comfort in the fact that war has been in steady decline since World War II (what Steven Pinker refers to as the ‘Long Peace’ in his book The Better Angels of Our Nature). However, Johnson clarifies that “while war may be in decline among states, competition is not”.

The modern world is infinitely complex, and experts are generally pretty terrible at predicting the future. That said, pundits point to an uncomfortably high chance of a confrontation between the United States and China over Taiwan in the medium-term.  

Beyond territorial expansion, Johnson clarifies that states are vying for strategic advantages in a myriad of ways. A good illustration of this is the new arms race sparked between the United States and China over artificial intelligence (AI).

Whilst evolutionary psychology excavates the remnants of our evolutionary past, AI researchers are taking insights from evolution to build the digital minds of tomorrow. Both countries are now ploughing large sums into artificial intelligence for military purposes, including the development and deployment of autonomous weapons. Whilst AI may prove to be a boon for humanity, experts warn that without proper oversight and regulation, humanity risks ‘losing control’ of AI.

Similarly, Johnson appears to be concerned about increasing technological and social complexity. As the scale and complexity of political interactions continues to increase, Johnson warns that mistakes and misunderstandings may become more difficult to avoid. In a multipolar world where the two military superpowers are continuously on red alert, the risks of accidental escalation looms large (with the mass deployment of automated weaponry, one may worry not so much about ‘artificial intelligence’, but of ‘artificial stupidity’).

Despite his sobering analysis, Johnson seems confident (perhaps overconfident?) that the United State’s strategic instincts will save the day:

Even if the disadvantages are genuine and likely to cause mistakes, the advantages could outweigh them, avoiding mistakes in the other direction that would be even more costly. It would be easy for a state to shrink back in the face of a rising power, anxious to avoid conflict and hesitant or unwilling to commit to the bold actions necessary to assert and preserve its position. This was certainly Chamberlain’s problem in the 1930s, and Britain paid the price— losing its empire, bankrupting the nation, and nearly suffering an invasion of his homeland as well. As we have seen, overconfidence can serve to increase ambition, resolve, and perseverance, helping to exploit opportunities, deter enemies, attract allies, and provide a competitive edge in strategic interactions. While drawbacks of overconfidence certainly remain in the mix, all of these advantages could conceivably help the United States consolidate and preserve its position vis-a-vis China in the coming years.

Here’s the 30 trillion-dollar question: will overconfidence help avert a large-scale military conflict between the United States and China, or will it inevitably lead to disaster?

Written by Max Beilby for Darwinian Business.

Strategic Instincts: The Adaptive Advantages of Cognitive Biases in International Politics is published by Princeton University Press. Click here to buy a copy.

Article updated on the 27th July 2021.