One of the problems we face lies in the myriad tales we accept as proof that underlies our behavior and belief. We hear or read about someone’s getting sick after receiving a COVID-19 vaccine, and we respond emotionally. It is, after all, a story, true or untrue. “Could it happen to me?” we ask. Well, yes, possibly, but what would be the cause of the sickness? Why should the anecdote change or dictate my behavior? If outcomes A, B, and C occur, there’s no guarantee that D will.
When we hear several similar anecdotes, we use them to conclude. Much of our life is a product of responding to stories. What if someone said “Did you hear that a group of people living on the side of a volcano eat garlic daily and live into their hundreds?” Nice story. Flavorful lifestyle, we think. But is it the garlic or the volcano, the altitude or the rural lifestyle, or the genetic heritage that contributes to the longevity? Or is the story even believable? Could someone have falsely concluded or been given faulty information before relating the story? Isn’t that the assumption of those who question the moon landings?
We grab onto personal story after personal story, looking for models for living, hoping that by emulating we achieve something desirable, a better body, for example, or a more healthy or longer life. Isn’t every testimony a story? Every infomercial? Every “before and after”? And we don’t look for the exceptions to the tales we accept because in giving the general plot, authors presume we will fill in appropriate details. Audiences are also authors. If I say "the glen was quiet in winter and noisy in summer," do you provide details, such as "deep winter snow that dampens sound and breezy flowery meadow with buzzing insects and chirping birds"?
So, in almost every story lie details of our own making regardless of the story’s author. What do we do, for example, with anecdotes about this person who reportedly became ill after taking a vaccine? Do we add up similar stories to conclude we shouldn’t get the COVID-19 vaccine? Tough decision. “But all those anecdotes can’t be wrong,” we think.
And every such decision is made more complex by the plethora of stories through which we have to sift for truth and the fictions we create. How many times have you applied a logical filter to determine your decisions, to determine your behavior, and how many times have you simply run with the stories and the inductive reasoning that led you to a conclusion? Look through 2020, for example. What stories led to conclusions that affected not just individuals, you in particular, but also whole populations?
What stories did family members, friends, acquaintances, or associates use to inductively derive conclusions about their lives and their society? Think of the consequences of conflicting stories that were told during 2020, and think of level of detail supplied by the various storytellers. As you answer my questions, remember that few, if any, stories are replete.
Societies periodically undergo paradigm shifts driven by inductive reasoning based on stories both true and false and both detailed and general, none of which are truly replete and all of which stir creative infilling by the recipient. Know, too, that stories engender personal and cultural paradigm shifts. Driven by stories such paradigm shifts are like interactive stories, with individuals and groups rarely seeing the role they play in writing a tale for future generations. Each of us is a character in and a co-author of numerous stories that influence lives.
There’s calculus at work here. We can take any set of similar stories, such as anecdotes about people getting sick from the COVID-19 vaccine or the moon landings, and smooth those stories into a single conclusion, or we can look at the details, find the gaps, see discontinuity, and reject a rash decision or a faulty conclusion based on apparent continuity. The difference between the inductive mind and the deductive one is like the difference between those who believe Neil Armstrong never walked on the moon and those who know he did and the difference between those who will get a vaccine and those who won’t because they heard tales.