Indoor Public Space

is what we make of it.

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Indoor Recess (Take Two)

Last year, we tried to plan a new type of festival, but we couldn’t work out the logistics in time, so we put it off until this year.  If you’d like to know about the festival, just keep reading, if you want to know why it didn’t quite come together read this post here.

This February, when it’s too cold to go out and play, we’re going to put on a festival that will help you, your friends and your neighbours find free things to do inside.

Businesses and institutions — anything from a coffee shop to a clothing boutique to a library — will make space available to people with good ideas who want to run free events.  People — artists, parents, teenagers, teachers, whoever — will find participating businesses and pitch their idea for an event.  Then, over one weekend, we’ll run all the events and you can attend as many or as few as you like.


The festival will be called Indoor Recess*.  Remember the cozy feeling of staying in and padding around in your socks while the wind howled out on the playground?  The illicit pleasure of enjoying your classroom without the rules that usually tied up your days?  Board games?  Books?  Oregon Trail?  Any of those could make a comeback — or you might encounter an exciting new activity.  Knitting?  Jazz?  Cooking lessons?  What skills could you share?  What hobbies have you wanted to try?  Are you looking for a better way to meet new people?  If you have an event idea, let us know and we’ll try to match you up with a space some time in the fall.

The logo above is just a rough draft — if you have something better hovering in your mind’s eye, get it down on paper and pass it along to us.  We will also need a slogan, so get your thinking cap on.   Indoor Recess is becoming a reality, but we still need your help.  Events, logos, slogans -send them our way!


* Special thanks to Gonzalo Riva of Artery for hitting on the perfect name. is great way to organize low-cost events in public or private spaces all-year round — it’s a social network, an event planner and a ticketing site all in one!





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A Festival Postponed

Last year, we had a great idea for a festival.  We were hoping to put on free events one weekend in February, when there isn’t much going on.  We got volunteers.  We had meetings.  We made posters.  We picked a date.  We talked to venues.  People with unusual skills proposed fascinating events.  Everyone loved it.

But it never happened.

In short, we ran out of time.  We talked to members of BIAs and community organizations, and they were interested, but they couldn’t commit on their own, and by the time they got back to us after getting in touch with their colleagues, we were already edging into the Christmas shopping season, wherein no store owner has time to talk to anyone.  We maybe could have pulled something together in January, but that seemed logistically risky, and we didn’t want to crash and burn à la fyre festival.

We often hear from successful people about passion and hard work, but we don’t hear much from unsuccessful people — but they’re out there, and quite often they’re working just as hard.  So I thought I’d write a quick post about what we can learn from failure.

  1.  Planning takes longer than you think – not the actual ‘planning,’ what is really time-consuming is getting everyone involved to agree on the plans.  It isn’t about coming up with an idea, or explaining your idea to other people, it is about actually getting the same idea, with the same intensity, into many different people’s heads — people who are thinking about a million other things.  Sometimes you can do this with passion and persuasion, but it also helps to listen to the ideas that are already there in other people’s heads and try to incorporate them into your own idea.  This was entirely my fault, I was busy with other responsibilities and I didn’t put up enough time early in the year to make it happen — something I hope to remedy for Indoor Recess 2018.
  2. Yes isn’t enough to make things happen.  Early on, I had some people voice an interest in participating, and I stopped pursuing other paths to success, while I tried to advance those apparent yeses.  But yes I would like to participate isn’t the same as ‘yes I can and will participate’.  These people were committed to the project, they made sacrifices in their own busy schedules, they offered advice and assistance, but they weren’t ultimately able to commit to the project completely and by the time we figured that out, it was too late to pursue other options.  This isn’t a criticism of the people I was working with, they were helpful and honest about what they brought to the table.  This was my mistake again.  In the early stages of a project, you need to keep a lot of irons in the fire, you need to gather a seemingly excessive number of yeses and do the hard work of following up on all of them.  Because some yeses may not pan out for reasons you can’t predict.

So far, I don’t think I’m saying anything particularly original.  Entrepreneurs often recommend that we ‘fail early and fail often.’  But there is another lesson here, this festival, and all the hard work put in by the various volunteers would likely have been completely invisible to the people around us if we hadn’t decided to try again.  I often look at all the problems in the world and find myself boiling with anger at the fact that no one is trying to make things better, everyone seems to be off watching movies and taking vacations, and sometimes they are, but there are also thousands of people dreaming up projects in their living rooms, talking over ideas, and trying experiments like Indoor Recess that never get off the ground.  So if you, like me, are trying to make the world a better place, you may not be as alone as you think you are.  While working on Indoor Recess, I discovered a number of interesting projects/people that I might not have heard of otherwise:

Artery: an event site for pop-up events in homes and other unusual spaces

Crazy Dames: A dynamic duo of artist/educator/planners who create experimental spaces that foster meaningful conversations.

The Danforth East Community Association’s Laneway: Like a pub crawl, with more kids and less beer, in a laneway.

There are lots of us out here, plugging away, trying to make things better, and pretty soon we’re going to start getting things right and getting to know each other and seeing meaningful results in the real world.  So don’t stop trying just because things don’t work out at first — and more importantly, don’t stop talking about how to make the world better, just because it seems like no one else cares.  Because maybe they do.  And maybe hearing that you’re thinking about it too will help them through these dark times.

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Ideas can be erased from public websites, but not from public space.

The moment Trump took office, his minions scrubbed the White House website of all mentions of climate change, LGBTQ issues and civil rights.  This is a clear effort to manage public opinion, not by engaging in discussion, but by erasing certain ideas from public space and consciousness.


Photo credit: @yayoi_shionoiri

‘Public’ is a funny word.  Habermas has observed that it can refer either to the government and its various appendages OR to precisely that segment of the population which criticizes the government.  When democracy is functioning properly, these two meanings should be synonymous, but when things get out of whack these meanings will drift farther and farther apart.  When the state is functioning democratically, it supports, reflects and encourages our political conversations in the spaces it manages. (Footnote 1)  While the United States, and most other democratic countries, have rarely, if ever, aimed to encourage dissent and discussion, the current President marks an “unpresidented” low in this regard.  The views of the government are publicized through specific channels, but the public itself is everywhere.  If the government is doing a bad job of reflecting your views in the spaces where they ought to be reflected, then it is time to make them heard elsewhere.

If Trump refuses to acknowledge civil rights, then paint your favourite James Baldwin quote on a sign, slap a team logo (other than the Indians) on there and bring it down to the ballpark.  If somebody makes small talk with you on the bus, tell them about the last protest you went to.  Ask your waiter if they vote, and if they do give them a 30% tip and tell them why.  (If they don’t, give them a 20% tip and tell them to consider voting).

If Trump refuses to allow civil servants to discuss and study climate change, then we must move the discussion into those day-to-day spaces that the state cannot police so easily.  If your HR department asks if you have any concerns, tell them you are worried about the company’s carbon footprint.  If you teach a high school physics class, use climate change as a case study.  If a store asks you how you found their service, tell them you were too worried about climate change to buy anything.  If someone asks you if you like their shoes, tell them ‘Climate change is real (and I like your shoes.)’

If Trump refuses to acknowledge the existence of the LGBTQ community through the government, then the LGBTQ community and its allies must be everywhere.  Put a flag up on your porch.  Sew pride patches onto your backpack.  If you have a youtube channel reviewing movies, review Milk.  Steal a tactic from those FHRITP idiots, and yell ‘We’re here.  We’re queer.  And we have human rights’ whenever you see a live TV camera asking for public opinion on any topic whatsoever.

We cannot allow our public representatives to pretend to represent public opinion when they do not.  Trump can erase ideas from public websites, but not from PUBLIC SPACE.  And public space is everywhere that we are.

Footnote 1: For some interesting thoughts on how government officials could design public spaces that encourage dissent and discussion check out this book: Beyond Zucotti Park: Freedom of Expression and the Occupation of Public Space.

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Hobbies let us connect publicly if politics must be kept private


I am currently reading Bonds of Civility by Eiko Ikegami.  It is fascinating.  But one claim is particularly timely right now.

In Pre-modern Japan, under the shogunate, political associations were forbidden.  But this was a market economy, leisure and cultural consumption were on the rise and very profitable.  Japanese people at this time connected with each other around poetry, tea ceremony, ikebana (flower arranging), and many other cultural pursuits.  The shogunate allowed this — because entertainment was considered a private concern.  Poets were able to travel across Japan by staying with people they met through these cultural networks.  She compares this with the ‘public sphere’ that Habermas identified as an important factor in the formation of modern democracy.  Importantly, journals from participants in these networks show that while these networks were outwardly and publicly about entertainment, their internal spaces allowed people from different classes and social backgrounds to enjoy these hobbies AND ALSO TALK ABOUT POLITICS.

Freedom of speech is still mostly a reality in America and, for now, people should continue to use social networks to organize politically in explicit and public formations.  However, just in case things get worse, or if you are already concerned about the police tracking activists through social media (which certainly does happen), consider organizing hobby networks with activist and progressive friends which will allow you to use social networks for planning spaces that are publicly cultural, but privately political.  Dinner parties.  Book clubs.  Poker groups.  And while you’re at it.  Make those dinners and read those books and play those board games because we could all use some self-care on the side.


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A Winter Festival of Fun and Culture

Toronto has plenty of festivals in the spring and summer, but come February, when we’re all desperate to get out of the house, the city feels like a frozen expanse of closed doors and people hurrying home.  And yet, at the very same time, businesses are looking for ways to get people out of their houses after the Christmas rush and bustle.  To kill two birds with one stone, I’m hoping to organize a new type of festival, for this February or next, but I will need a little help.

The basic idea is this:

Businesses and institutions — anything from a barbershop to a coffee shop, a clothing boutique or a library — will make space available to people with good ideas who want to run free events.  People — artists, parents, teenagers, teachers, whoever — will find participating businesses and pitch their idea for an event.    

And that’s virtually the entire plan.  Individual businesses would agree to participate, and they would get posters and materials and be listed on a central website, but they will largely control how they choose and schedule events.  People could approach them directly or be put in touch through a central organizing committee with a list of participating spaces and their size and specifications.  An open-mic night?  A lecture?  A photo exhibit?  Let’s make it happen.  A dance class?  A wrestling tournament?  A mini-rave? Some shocking performance art I can’t even imagine?  We’ll give it a shot, if we can figure out the logistics.

The idea isn’t quite as unusual as it might seem at first: the Scotiabank CONTACT Photography Festival does something similar, but with a focus on photography.  The main difference here is that we don’t want to limit events in advance to a specific category (the best ideas might be something no one has ever thought of before) and we want business owners and local people to meet face-to-face and talk about what should be done with their underused space rather than having some form of central festival planning.


Photo Credit: Flickr user Bobbi Vie (and bboy Nasty Ray)

The concept behind the Festival: Trying to say ‘Yes’

Urban space is one of our most valuable cultural resources — it’s both a site and raw material for new cultural practices, community-building and human fulfillment.  We’re pretty good at using urban space efficiently in our quest to grow our economy — but when there’s no profitable way to make use of a space it just lies empty, because most of our planning and management revolves around turning a profit.  And that’s a real shame, because people can connect with each other in a million and one ways outside of the market — religion, politics, art, learning, subcultures, sport, being silly, just hanging out. So we need to start doing a better job of making space for non-business activities in our neighbourhoods.  Businesses aren’t really the problem here, but the way in which they exclude other types of activities is.  The upside is that business owners are people too, they’re not only interested in profits, it’s just that we’re bad at thinking and planning for other types of activities, because we rarely practice this type of planning.  Yes, businesses need to make money, but space is a wonderful thing, because two things can, and often do, happen at once.  The festival would provide an infrastructure and logistical support to make alternative events happen, business owners would provide space and local people would provide good ideas and inspiration.  This festival is based on one of the Foundation for Indoor Public Space’s key concepts.  The public-ness of an indoor space is on a gradient: a space becomes more public the more the people managing the space try to say ‘yes’ to the ideas and needs of the people around them.  As this would be a festival of public space, events would be free and businesses wouldn’t be allowed to require that participants buy something — but, in most cases, the increased foot traffic at a slow time of year would be good for business.

What do I mean by ‘Trying to say yes‘ ?  Public space is about difference and being in public space is about learning to be comfortable with, and even enjoy, difference.  Trying to say yes is about thinking deeply about difference and what you might learn about yourself and other people by saying ‘yes’ to something that seems weird or slightly uncomfortable at first.  Trying to say ‘yes’ requires you to think about what your most basic principles are, about which things are so important to you that you would have to say ‘no’ to another human being.  It doesn’t mean to abandon one’s principles, only to put them up for consideration and negotiation.  By trying to say ‘yes’ the people who own and manage businesses in our neighbourhoods will have the chance to grow and rethink the way they relate to their community — it might even lead to a new weekly poetry night or free tutoring that runs all year round.

A Festival Needs a Name!

I have yet to come up with a satisfying name and I’m entirely open to suggestions.  We would need something short and satisfying that communicates a little bit about the idea of publicnessand being open to new ideas and activities.  I see some potential in a play on the double-meaning of ‘premises’ (such as Open Premises or Shared Premises), but I’m not sure it’s catchy enough and might work better as a slogan or explanatory phrase.  Send me name ideas by email (, blog comments, twitter or facebook!


Organizing the festival would likely have two phases.  The first phase would involve getting spaces to sign-up and publicizing their participation in-store, online and through the media.  There would have to be an application form where potential participants explain their ideas and how much time and space they will need.  There would be a specific date, maybe a month before the festival, where we would cut-off applications and businesses would choose and schedule as many events as they wanted.  The second phase would involve promoting the chosen events and helping people choose which ones to attend.

To do this city-wide would be a huge amount of work, so it might make the most sense to do the first festival in just one neighbourhood as a pilot project, possibly with the help of a resident’s association or BIA.  How we do it, will depend a lot on how many people are willing to volunteer their time and skills to help organize it.  I know that I do not have the event planning, project management and web development skills to make it happen on my own.  If you’re interested in getting involved, please send me an email:

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You’re both right! Now let’s listen to each other and work out the details — Pt. 3

This post is part 3 in a three-part series.  Click here for Part 1 and here for Part 2. 

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Being wrong doesn’t feel good.  In this series, I have expressed my views on some complex topics – Israel, race relations, the possible connection between Islam and terrorism – and expressing these views makes me very uncomfortable because I know they are likely inaccurate.  But even more so, I would like to be right about the things that I have said, and I will probably feel even more uncomfortable when my positions are critiqued by people on both sides of these issues.  I will do my best to take these critiques seriously and learn from them rather than just shutting them out.  Of course, it can be hard to tell when a critique is well-founded and when one’s critics are even more wrong than you are.  Did you see that?  What I just wrote there?  That’s me, bobbing and weaving, trying find ways to justify my own rectitude.  I know a world-class bboy (breakdancer for those who don’t know) who once said that there is nothing he likes better than losing a battle.  Because only losing truly motivates you to practice harder and improve your craft.  Can we learn to lose political debates just as gracefully?   Can we find a way to look at the mistakes of others as forgivable and correctable rather than as personal deficiencies?  Can we learn to see our own mistakes as opportunities for learning rather than as devastating fissures in our already fragile egos?

Last fall, I heard a speaker from Black Lives Matter Toronto talking about naming anti-black racism for what it was and pointing it out whenever it appeared in the words or thoughts or actions of either friends or strangers.  What was most interesting to me was how she described these ‘call outs’ as areas for improvement, as places where work still has to be done.  Here was a way of saying ‘that’s racist’ that was meant not as a critique of an individual’s very humanity, but as a helpful pointer, something more akin to a gift than a condemnation.  Now there are both moral and practical arguments to be made about who should take responsibility to ensure that criticisms are heard as advice — but the case I’m making here is that we will have better dialogue if speakers learn to say ‘yes, but’ and listeners learn to consider everything they hear as potentially true, even if our instinct is to reject it.  What does it mean to think of something as potentially true?  It means to really sit on it, to hold it in one’s mind as a true statement and see how the rest of one’s beliefs would have to adapt for it to be true.  This is what has been described in the philosophy of science as a paradigm shift — the fact or bit of evidence that doesn’t fit into the current model and requires everything to be rearranged, the peculiar planetary orbits that suddenly simplify if the sun, rather than the earth, is at the centre of the universe.  Paradigm shifts often take a generation to come about, because many scientists are deeply committed to an older model of the world.  If they see a particular model as their life’s work, they may dig their heels in to defend it.  Many people feel the same way when told that their success is the result of race and class privilege, rather than their own hard work.  If we want to have dialogue on difficult issues we must grapple with our fragile human egos.  We have to find ways to admit it when we are wrong and to honestly consider the possibility that our apparent opponents might be allies in our quest for understanding.

We need to learn to really listen to each other.  Not just listen to capture what is being said to us.  Not just listen so that we can respond.  But really listen.  Let the words that you hear into your soul, hold them somewhere inside yourself so that they can grow and change just as your own thoughts do.  A call-out is an opportunity to grow, not an attack.  This comment stuck with me partly because of the way it mirrored something I was grappling with in my own study of philosophy.

Gilles Deleuze’s early work was about ontology — the question of what we mean when we say that something ‘exists’ or has ‘being.  For Deleuze, and for Spinoza and Neitzstche before him, to exist is to change.1  As a result of this view, Deleuze argues that ‘the power to be is also the power to be affected.’  What the hell does that mean?  To exist in this world is to change and to express ourselves.  But how and why do we change?  What are we expressing?  We change because we see and hear new things that affect us.  We express what has been impressed upon us by our personal experiences.  Our existence and beliefs do not come from somewhere deep within ourselves, we exist because we reflect the world around us.  We reflect the world around us in our very molecular composition, but also through our ideas and feelings.  So let yourself experience new things and ideas and viewpoints, allow yourself to be changed by those around you, because that is how you grow.  To be changed by the world is to exist more fully.  And in order to be changed by the world, we have to admit to ourselves that we don’t know everything.

Each of us carries around inside us a little model of the world.  And all of these models have some truth to them, because they reflect real experiences we have had, but they all have errors too, because none of us will ever experience the entire world.  The world is always more complex than our internal models of it.  The only way to be true to the infinite and miraculous complexity of our world is to doubt what you already are so that you can become something better.  When we allow our models of the world to grow more complicated, we reflect the world more truly and our world becomes richer.  When we double down on our existing beliefs, when we insist that we have seen and heard everything, we stop growing.  If a human being were a tree, than our perceptions would be our roots and our thoughts and words and deeds would be our branches.  We will not grow if we try to nourish ourselves with our own thoughts, if we waste our lives confirming how correct our first impressions were.  To hide behind simplistic models of the world is to limit our own existence.  When we insist that we already understand the world, we are chopping off our own roots.  We are ending our own lives.  Perhaps we will do and say a few more things, our leaves might produce one last spectacular spread of autumn colour, but there will be no spring.  Instead we must learn to seek and understand the unnatural, alien bits of truth that exist in the minds of people we disagree with most vehemently.  We must allow our roots to split and weave, to penetrate even into rock and drink deeply from hidden aquifers, so that our crown of leaves will grow ever more glorious and intricate.


  1. Interestingly, for Spinoza, this great, unfathomable complexity and ongoing change that underlies all existence is God.  So my praise for”doubt” need not be seen as a critique of religion. Self-doubt is also a form of faith in God/the world.


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You’re both right! Now let’s listen to each other and work out the details — Pt. 2

This post is part 2 in a three-part series.  Click here for Part 1.

How then, do we talk to someone we disagree with?  What do I mean when I say that everyone is mostly right?  If someone says something racist, we are well within our rights to say ‘that’s racist,’ but we are unlikely to change their mind by doing so.  When we disagree, we have to pick our battles, and our tactics.  Sometimes just saying ‘that’s racist’ is the right thing to do, if only so that other people around us see that racism is unacceptable.  At other times, depending on our relationship with the person and the amount of time we have on our hands, it might be best to ask them why they feel a certain way, what experiences in their lives have led them to that belief.  It might be better to break that racist statement down into so many pieces that we find the pieces we actually can agree with and help that individual to see other ways of putting those pieces back together into a different worldview.  Louis C.K. suggests confronting racist jokes by simply saying “I don’t get it, can you explain it.” and letting the racist reconsider their own logic during their attempt to explain the joke.  All of us carry around models of the world in our minds and bodies which are a confusing mish-mash of lived experiences, things we learned in school, myths, hearsay, correct assumptions based on bad evidence, faulty assumptions based on good evidence, piercing insights and hilarious misunderstandings.  Actually changing someone’s mind means diving headlong into this unsettling soup and the only way to really do that is to take everything they say seriously, at least for a moment.  If someone said to us “I love processed cheese,” we wouldn’t reply: “No, you don’t, you’re wrong.”  But whenever anyone tells us anything about the world, they are telling us something important about the way they feel.  Ask them, when did you first have processed cheese?  What do you like about it?  How do you prepare it?  Have you tried this other cheese, it’s also fatty and oily and delicious.  You probably won’t convince anyone that they don’t like processed cheese, but with enough patience, encouragement and careful questioning, you might convince them to try Stilton.  And three years later, they might realize that its better than Kraft singles.

A key point here is that if everybody is right, then everybody is also wrong.  Stilton might be delectable, but gooey Kraft singles can be pretty damn delicious between two toasty slices of Wonderbread.  The cheese snob of the previous paragraph could also learn a thing or two about the world.  In many of the cases I have discussed, the problem isn’t necessarily that people think they are right about something, but rather that they conclude from their correct beliefs that someone else is wrong instead of trying to develop a broader, more nuanced view that is capable of accommodating the lived experience that underlies both perspectives.  You can be right about something without fully understanding it or seeing the whole picture.

Throughout this piece I have highlighted my own ignorance of the day-to-day lives of many of the people involved in these conflicts.  Even though I tried to develop a balanced look at a number of social conflicts, I am probably wrong about some of the things I said in this article and I am willing to see and consider evidence about these errors.  What I’m asking in return is that everyone reading this article also takes seriously the possibility that they are wrong about things, that the world does not actually work the way they think it does, that the truth of the matter is more complicated than their little glimpse of reality has allowed them to imagine.  Doubt is one of the most underrated human virtues.  People who doubt their own views rarely claim that supporters of a certain political candidate are stupid or pray for a certain type of person to be wiped off the planet.  People who doubt their own views are also more likely to keep learning.

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The question of right and wrong can be particularly problematic when experts and amateurs meet face to face.  When parents want to tell doctors that they know what’s best for their children’s health.  When civilians disagree with police about how policing ought to be done.  When high school students want to tell nuclear engineers that they’re doing something wrong.  The challenge here is for both parties to keep listening.  Amateurs have to be willing to admit they might not understand the nuances and experts have to be willing to admit that they might have overlooked something.  Our public discourse needs more genuine outreach from experts.  Don’t just bottle up all that wonderful knowledge and communicate amongst yourself in arcane techno-babble.  Express your views in plain language.  Participate thoughtfully in public debates.  Explain what you are doing and why when you encounter members of the public.  And don’t forget to really listen to the public as well.  I’m not suggesting that when someone regurgitates some obvious and commonplace falsehood we should accept it; I’m suggesting that we should try to delve deeper instead of shouting it down.  If someone says something that you couldn’t possibly believe then they must have seen and heard things that you have not or missed out on some important experience you have had.  Experts have a responsibility to understand the source of amateurs misconceptions.  In doing so, they will likely learn about some aspect of the world that they had not considered.  For example, urban planning consultations should be open-ended and ongoing, rather than being focused on the specific details of a project that has already been 90% approved.  Instead of developing projects and wheeling them out at public meetings, municipal governments should be knocking on doors and holding meetings with free food and childcare to understand the actual problems that local residents face.  Outreach from the medical community has to be ongoing, honest, and attentive to the lived experiences of patients — rather than being targeted at specific misconceptions and bad habits.  Yes vaccines are good and important, but how did we get to this point?  Why don’t people trust their own doctors?  What other aspects of the healthcare system weren’t working to get us to this point — is it hurried face-to-face consultations? Is it because some people don’t know any doctors personally?  Instead of reasserting evidence about how great vaccines are, a doctor can ask a patient why they don’t want to vaccinate — if they are suspicious of big pharmaceutical companies, a doctor might be able to reply ‘I am too, but most of what we know about basic vaccines is based on independent studies of public data.  I think you’re right to be suspicious of the latest and greatest medication, but these are well-established.’  It might not work, but such a line of discussion at least opens the door to real communication.  These are the types of nuanced conversations that we need to be having — not a shouting match about vaccines good vaccines bad.

Being wrong doesn’t feel good.  And it can be particularly uncomfortable for experts, so much so that they may be tempted to just reassert the various things they know, rather than taking a serious look at that one troubling aspect of the world that they never really have enough time to consider in depth.  Vaccines work.  End of story.  Yes vaccines work, but is that really the end of the story?  Poor people shouldn’t be voting for conservatives.  End of story.  Perhaps they shouldn’t, but the Left should spend more time thinking about why they do, about what conservatives are offering which the Left is not.

Part 3 will take a look at how we can start to enjoy being wrong.