One of the questions Jonathan Haidt asked
people for his book, The Righteous Mind,
was if they would drink a glass of apple juice if a sterilized cockroach had been
dipped into it. Haidt explains that the cockroach has absolutely no disease or hazardous
particles on it; it does not affect the juice in any tangible way. So would you
sip?
The press’s response has largely been that
this question belongs at a slumber party, not academic work, but it got me
thinking. My snap reaction is that I wouldn’t, because that’s gross. As an
adult I’m supposed to pretend I have deliberated responses, but I know and want
to out snap-reaction thinking.
A few seconds later I thought about sitting at a table with
some squeamish friends. I envisioned that all of these friends (not naming
names) would refuse and squirm in their chairs. And my contrarian nature would
seize on the harmlessness of the juice, compelling me to drink it just to tease
them. Removed from the circumstances, I realize I’d gleefully haze my friends for
the same inhibition that I’d otherwise have.
Then I thought of those times when I couldn’t afford food.
Would I drink it then? You bet your food stamps I would.
Right now I have food in my house, but no fruit or juice.
Might I supplement my vitamin intake tonight with this cockroach-touched juice?
It’s quite possible, especially if it wasn’t apple juice. I don’t like apple
juice.
Or if I’ve just read one of those reports about how juice is
sugar-heavy without the digestible fiber to offset it? I’m a sucker for those, affecting
my drinking choices for short periods of time afterward.
And what am I getting out of the deal? Does a doctor offer
me five bucks to drink a glass of sterile-cockroach-touched juice? In that
instance I think I wouldn’t, believing there’s no way a doctor would pay me
money for something that didn’t have a secretly questionable chemical in it.
But if the doctors swore upon pain of litigation that the
juice was clean? Then I’d probably take the fiver.
What about days when I’m feeling sicker, when the syndrome
is heavier, and my thinking slows and I get generally cranky? I’d be much less
receptive to the roach-juice, just as I’m less receptive to trying anything new
in those periods.
Never mind the setting, circumstances or who made the offer (if
Dick Cheney dipped it, you’re looking at a different outcome than if my
germophobe sister did). I couldn’t help thinking about personal circumstances,
things like mood or recent personal issues that could sway me in that case, and
that do routinely sway my behavior. Had I not been in a receptive mood when I
first heard about Haidt’s book, I probably wouldn’t have looked it up and have
added it to my next buying list. I believe most human beings are arbitrary like
me in these regards. We’re not randomly capricious, but we bring more into
situations than absolutist answers account for.
You, dear reader, have factors that would influence how you’d
respond to this post today as opposed to next week, and next month, and while
you have the worst flu of your life, and right after you get the best hummer of
your life. What mood are you in?
if I was 5 years old, I would drink it. simply because, when you're a child, you haven't yet had enough experience to know whether it is gross or not and you would always want to experience it before you judge.
ReplyDeleteI think the question is kind of silly. plus, he's does not say the juice would you give any health benefits or superpowers, so what's the point in drinking it? unless of cause, I'm really, really thirsty and there's nothing but the glass of juice to drink and that I would die of thirst if I don't drink it.
I wouldn't drink it. I have a debilitating fear of cockroaches. I nearly burst into tears at the sight of them. You can ask my coworkers who have witnessed it.
ReplyDeleteAnd I'm in a good mood or I never would have made it to the end of this blog post which is well over my 200 word maximum reading limit. ;)