Beware Urgency

Slow down and think things through before making conclusions

Most people know that critical thinking, the ability to impartially analyze a situation before coming to a tentative conclusion, is an endangered concept these days. From cable news to social media, the inability or outright refusal to think things through before making claims is far from an aberration. This issue has several causes, and the sheer inundation of information and the desire to defend the values of one’s “tribe” are at the top of that list. However, on many occasions there is one quiet, yet disquieting phenomenon that also wreaks havoc on our ability or desire to thoroughly assess a situation: Urgency.

The need to say the first thing, or even to be one of the first to say it, is ever-present in what many call “the attention economy.” Journalists and influencers want to get the “scoop” on a situation because being the first is a form of ethos. That is, it gives one clout. It also makes sure that one’s contribution to the discourse around a situation is relevant. An innovative angle on an event matters much less after a few days, if at all. “Time is of the essence” is a silent but salient refrain in all forms of media.

What’s more, many of us have ready-made narratives through which we interpret the world. Sometimes, the narrative does the thinking more than we do. For instance, many Americans, regardless of race or socio-economic status, have a negative opinion of law enforcement. (For example, they assume statistics like the number of shootings of certain demographics is significantly higher than it actually is.) So, when they hear that a police officer has shot a black man, many assumptions follow: the officer was white and probably male, the black person was innocent or did not deserve to be shot, etc. Another group, however, may have the opposite assumptions: the cop, regardless of race, was doing his duty and the black person must have done something to provoke the officer. Both parties are making assumptions based on particular narratives.

I, a professional rhetorician, have also fallen victim to urgency and let the narrative do the heavy lifting. A recent example shows what I mean.

Recently, the Department of Justice charged the Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC) with wire fraud and conspiracy to commit money laundering by funneling over $3 million to racist extremist groups, including the KKK, the American Nazi Party, Unite the Right, and Sadistic Souls Motorcycle Club. According to FBI Director Kash Patel, “They lied to their donors, vowing to dismantle violent extremist groups, and actually turned around and paid the leaders of these very extremist groups—even utilizing the funds to have these groups facilitate the commission of state and federal crimes.” Upon hearing this, I made some impulsive assumptions.

My assumptions derived primarily from a narrative I had constructed based on preconceived notions. First was my knowledge of the SPLC’s “hate map,” a list of hate groups that includes organizations that do not actually fit that description and ignores groups that have a stronger claim to the label “hate group.” My narrative also emerged from a New Yorker article from 2019 in which Bob Moser, a former employee of the SPLC, discusses how dejected he and his colleagues were to see the reality of the organization. They felt like “pawns in what was, in many respects, a highly profitable scam.” Moser confessed, “We were part of the con, and we knew it.” Lastly, I have seen firsthand people creating problems so that they can be praised for solving them. Academics involved in social justice seemed to do this often. All this together coalesced into a narrative of dishonesty among those claiming to fight for justice.

Adding a sense of urgency to this narrative was like adding an accelerant to an already smoldering fire.

When I heard the news from the DOJ, I immediately wanted to write about it, and that is what I did. However, I was writing not from reality but from “narrative” reality. I wrote an essay about how the tendency to create a problem so that one can be praised for solving it is nothing new, and that the SPLC is simply the latest iteration. Of course, throughout the essay, I was committing a material fallacy: flawed reasoning caused by believing one has the necessary information to draw a conclusion when one actually does not. I had yet to hear the SPLC’s explanation or lawyers’ takes on the SPLC’s actions. If I had, I would have realized that this issue was more complicated.

Why did I do this? I am a rhetorician; I should know better! Usually, I do catch myself when it comes to things like this. But for this issue, for which I feel quite passionate, I sincerely wanted my voice to be in the national conversation about this story. That desire created an urgency that let my ready-made narrative do the thinking for me. I wanted my voice to matter, and being one of the first people to comment, I thought, would aid me in achieving that goal. This desire to matter resulted in a potentially fallacious essay that, thanks to the honest assessment of colleagues, will not see the light of day. (I get by with a little help from my friends.)

Urgency is dangerous to intellectualism because it necessarily pushes nuance out of our lines of sight. Urgency favors simplicity, and in an ever-changing and inescapably nuanced world, such simplicity can be a liability to anyone seeking true understanding. We cannot rush this process if we want to be fair and impartial. Simply put, we must guard against urgency.

So, I am asking you and myself to slow down and think things through before making conclusions. Hear all the relevant voices and get as many bits of information as possible. See what others think about the issue. Approach situations from as many angles as possible. I don’t know how the SPLC issue will shake out, but I do know that I will do my best to let it finish shaking out before I draw conclusions.