This is a follow-up to my previous post on disclaimers and self-esteem, I feel like I’ve addressed it a bit too narrowly so I expand on it here albeit very repetitively.
Unable to think for themselves
Another argument to be made against an excessive use of disclaimers is that it is, perhaps not so intuitively, condescending. Now, this is, again, subjective and not everyone feels this way, but the use of disclaimers in excess can have the effect of implying that the reader is somehow incapable of thinking for themselves.
If I told you that the afternoon sky looks blue to our eyes, and added a disclaimer saying that you should check it yourself, would you? Likely, it would be taken as a joke. Everyone knows that the sky looks blue (here’s an extra on Rayleigh scattering for why the sky looks that way), so it would be absurd to poke your head out the window just to check.
But what if we go up the continuum—beyond what one might deem “common knowledge”? Suppose I told you that men with masks were perceived as more attractive, and added the disclaimer that the study had yet to be replicated and to take it with caution, would that be a good use of a disclaimer? In this scenario, yes, but mostly for reasons beyond the scope of this article (such as the replication crisis).
Let’s switch this up: suppose this study didn’t exist, and I made the claim that “I think that people look more attractive on average when wearing masks”. Would I have to give a disclaimer in this instance? Or is it blatantly obvious that this is just my opinion? A disclaimer here rehashing what anyone could easily glean from the context and phrasing alone, reminding people that this is my opinion unfounded in any objective evidence, might potentially be perceived as condescending as it, as mentioned above, implies that the reader is incapable of figuring out something as elementary as this.
Like standing on a sidewalk near a busy street reminding everyone who passes to look before crossing (I’ve always thought “checking” for cars isn’t the same as trying to avoid them, but it still makes sense to us because we typically don’t enjoy being hit by cars), it can be offensive to the recipients of said advice as it implies that they don’t know even the basics of crossing roads.
A simpler but more exaggerated example, going back to our typical layperson’s use of excessive disclaimers, would be someone adding a “this is just my opinion” (or related) behind everything they say. Yes, I can see that, thank you.
What about my posts?
For articles on this site, I could generously apply “assuming the findings still holds true” to every single citation, or “assuming I haven’t missed anything” every time I reasoned something.
But I believe it’s redundant, distracting, and so obvious it’s borderline condescending to readers whom I believe are capable of at least rudimentary critical thinking if not far better off than me. This all goes back to applying critical thinking to just about everything in general, my posts included.
Though I may not be the best example, critical thinking is a skill I believe can be developed over time—so well that one no longer has to consciously think about it anymore, instead being able to intuitively identify potential errors and weaknesses in statements and the like (non-exhaustive… oops I’m doing the disclaimers again aren’t I?)}
The target audience
Reading this back, it seems a little incoherent—perhaps a bit lost, which I believe is due to missing context. Too often I have seen reviews of many scientific books and articles fail to grasp the implicit caveats in the data, criticising the authors on the basis of what one might deem pedantry instead of discussing the main point.
My argument—or defence for them—then, is that an excessive use of caveats and disclaimers is distracting, bloats the content, and completely redundant assuming basic critical thinking skills.
But where do we draw the line? We can’t assume that everyone has these so-called “rudimentary” or “basic” critical thinking skills, so not adding a disclaimer for these people would be misleading. Just like how we can’t assume everyone just “knows” the sky is blue even if it seems obvious to us, what’s obvious to one might not be so obvious to another.
We can’t just add caveats and disclaimers to everything we say as it’s simply too impractical, so what do we do? I don’t know. Like pasting a “choking hazard” sticker on every single brick of Lego, where do we draw the line between necessity and redundancy? Just because we know we shouldn’t swallow Lego bricks doesn’t mean a 9-month old knows, so should all bricks come with a “choking hazard” warning? Or would it still be redundant because babies can’t read?
We know not to jump down a flight of stairs, but does everyone know that? Would it be necessary or redundant to put a “please do not jump down the stairs” sign in front of every flight of stairs?
So, going back to our discussion, how much critical thinking ability can we expect people to possess in order to decide which warnings, caveats, or disclaimers to give? One thing we can do is bet on our target audience (a person’s survival instincts will hopefully stop them from jumping down an entire flight of stairs) or define them beforehand:
Another way we can define our audience beforehand is by means of entry requirements or other forms of proof of competency, found often in academia where entry is restricted to those who have fulfilled certain academic criteria.
But there are still many cases where one cannot blindly rely on people’s innate abilities or be choosy with them, such as writing a book for the public.
A popular non-fiction book, such as Kahneman’s Thinking, Fast and Slow, could be picked up and read by anyone with a decent grasp of the language it was written in. From an elementary school student to an erudite scholar, it would be impossible to know exactly who will gain from and who will be potentially mislead by the book.
An author can only, at best, write for some conception of an intended audience in mind, adding just enough caveats to satisfy most while causing as little annoyance as possible to those who don’t need to be reminded on how to wear their shoes every five seconds, though usually never completely, as evidenced by the many confused reviews, both positive and negative.
Or, one can be like many artists and philosophers who write for anyone who can understand what they’re trying to express, giving little regard to how it might be interpreted and sparking countless debates as a result a la Nietzche et al.
It’s perhaps impossible to write in a way that satisfies everybody, because not only are people different from each other, their differences also span a wide range of competencies. The best one can do when writing for the general public, is perhaps to write for what they believe is the majority, and crossing their fingers hoping that they’re right, adding just enough warnings and caveats as mentioned above.
Closing
As usual (yes this is another disclaimer), this issue (if it even is an issue) is a lot more complex (subjective) than I’ve made it out to be (also subjective, and it remains to be questioned how accurately I’ve described it), but at the risk (I’m assuming this is a bad thing) of this chain of addendums going on forever (perhaps not literally forever) I will leave the rest as an exercise (assuming this can be treated as an exercise) for the reader.
In my head I’m seeing countless more unaddressed problems with my statements, as well as a lot more I’d like to say, but at some point it’s nothing more than the equivalent of pasting “do not eat” labels on dinner plates and cutlery, thus highly redundant and unnecessary (except to babies who still try and eat just about anything they see).