Finding Truth and Tranquility in the Midst of Institutional Failure

While we have countless beliefs about the world, relatively few of them are from first-hand experience. Many, perhaps even most, of our beliefs we learn from other people — friends, family, books, the news, experts. I trust maps when calculating how many miles Brussels is from Beijing, a scientist who describes the layers of earth’s atmosphere, my friend when they tell me about their vacation, and my mechanic when I am told that my car is safe to drive. I believe the national weather service when it reports a hurricane despite having little ability to determine the facts for myself. In most cases, we tend to trust the people and institutions around us to provide reasonably reliable information. When this trust is shaken, knowing who or what to believe becomes more complicated.

This uncertainty can be felt today in the endless news cycles and social media feeds of sometimes conflicting information. Let’s take the United States’ war on Iran. The White House and Iran’s government often contradict one another. In March, the US declared they were in peace talks, which Iran denied. Later, the American government announced that the US had control the Strait of Hormuz. But this again contradicts Iranian statements and data shows that given the amount of oil going through the Strait of Hormuz at the moment, it is not likely under US control. Additionally, UN investigations have made a strong case that the US lied about bombing a school.

Conflicting accounts like this might cause us to become suspicious about reports given by the US government (a New York Times editorial explicitly accused them of hiding the truth). But the Iranian government has historically not been a very reliable source of information, whether lying to UN weapons inspectors, their handling of an Iranian missile shooting down a Ukrainian passenger plane, or denying involvement in supporting Russia’s war on Ukraine. If so many of our beliefs are based on trusting other people or institutions, who are we to believe? What do we believe when faced with a crisis of knowledge like this one? It is easy to feel overwhelmed, perhaps unsettled and paralyzed.

Perhaps we can use more of being skeptical, in the classical sense. While we tend to associate skepticism with simply doubting, for ancient Pyrrhonian skeptics, like Sextus Empiricus, doubting was only a means to an end: personal tranquility. They would say if we were honest with ourselves, we would realize our beliefs are always subject to the possibility of error. Our reason and senses are prone to mistakes and even the smartest people disagree about their most foundational beliefs. Faced with so much uncertainty, constantly seeking the truth troubles our mind. We perpetually second-guess ourselves. Rather than living in a state of disturbance, these skeptics say don’t fight it. Instead, accept the limits of our intellectual capacities and suspend our judgment on all matters. This unwillingness to believe something is true or false isn’t apathy, but the virtue of withholding judgment and actively refusing to take a side.

In cases like the Iran War, weeding through the overload of conflicting reports can be overwhelming. The skeptic would say don’t dwell on it. Admitting we don’t know will free us to keep living our lives, detached from all those troubles. Accepting our uncertainty itself can be a form of solace. Even so, when people are suffering, should we really let “ignorance be bliss”? Should our tranquility come at the expense of taking sides?

The 17th century French philosopher Descartes was well attuned to this Pyrrhonian skepticism. Like earlier skeptics, he was concerned with how easily we draw false conclusions from mistaken observations, bad data, or rushing to conclusions. He too saw ignorance as a path to tranquility, but not its endpoint; his skepticism is provisional. It’s intended to be temporary until we have the resources to correctly and consistently arrive at true beliefs.

To illustrate this, Descartes uses a construction metaphor. If we are worried about our house’s structural integrity (our knowledge), we must temporarily live in another structure (skepticism) while the house is torn down and rebuilt. As we live in this structure, like the ancient skeptics, we can live a life guided by the norms and customs we have always lived. However, this is only a temporary structure. It offers a place to reside while we sort out who and what to believe, so we can build a new house with more structural integrity. Skepticism in the hands of Descartes is ultimately a tool to acquire knowledge. The goal is always to sort out the facts but, until we do, it’s better to withhold believing something than rushing to judgment. In the meanwhile, there is nothing wrong with finding tranquility by firmly sticking to the principles we already hold: improve ourselves, and be a good friend, neighbor, or community member. We can do that even if we do not know what to believe or who to trust.

Not knowing what to believe isn’t a flaw. Not knowing is better than knowing wrongly! Descartes tells us to doubt to ensure that only the truth remains within us. We can embrace uncertainty while also gathering more information. We can suspend our judgment — say I don’t know what or who to believe — while also looking for empirical data (“How much oil is passing through the Strait of Hormuz?”) or seeking information from non-partisan organizations. While this can’t solve the problem of  institutional trust once and for all, the skeptic does offer us protection from the bombardment of uncertainty while we continue our search for answers.