There are two sides of the coin here, or four if you ask Philosopher Lynne Rudder Baker. According to her book Saving Belief, published in 1989, we typically view the concept of belief in four different ways.

One way is through the “mental sentence theory,” which I suppose the majority of people believe because it agrees with our common sense understanding of the world as it is today. This belief is basically that if we can back a belief up with a generally accepted form of concrete evidence, it is valid scientifically. This accommodates to our present knowledge, and not necessarily how the future might alter it. However, it also accommodates the past, because we believe something happened based on evidence back then. Anything we can prove happened is valid as a belief.

For example: bees exist. I believe that because I have seen them exist, and therefore it is valid. In the future bees may not exist because they might be extinct. In this theory, such knowledge is irrelevant. What matters is what is happening NOW.

Another way that people look at belief is a little more flexible. Because there is no present name for this theory, I will call it “mental history.” This argues that although eventually we will reject what we believe now in favor of a new, enlightened perspective, there is still a relation between those two beliefs since we believed them at all. In other words, the new belief can explain the other, and so the old belief isn’t completely invalid. Cause and effect.

For example: I believe that bees won’t exist in the future because eventually they will be extinct. However, before that they did exist, so I also believe that. This theory, therefore, accommodates the present as well as the future.

A harsher version of “mental history” is “eliminativism.” This argues that because we are enlightened on a new way to believe something, now we can completely reject the other. Indeed, the more we develop neuroscience and our brain, the more things are not accepted as believable such as medicinal practices or the old belief that the world was flat. Because we know better, now that theory lacks value completely.

For example: I believe that bees exist so anything claiming otherwise in the past is not valid; however, if I can prove in the future that bees won’t exist, what I believe now is irrelevant.

And finally, another way to look at belief is by rejecting it altogether yet encouraging it in others. This is called the “intentional stance.” Some consider the concept of belief not scientifically valid because it cannot be proven, yet will concede that assuming belief in others has its advantages. In a game of poker, if I suppose that my opponent believes he has a good hand, I will be a little more weary in placing a bet against him. So I am given an advantage in following his belief in spite of the fact that I don’t believe in mine.

For example: I don’t believe bees exist because in the great scheme of things, you can’t prove it to me rationally without at least a tiny window of doubt. However, if you believe bees exist I am advantaged by your perspective because I have gained a new one and have thus broadened my horizons.

In sum:
“mental sentence theory” = prove it, past or present, and it’s a valid belief.
“mental history theory” = present knowledge and future knowledge are both valid beliefs because they are connected.
“eliminativism” = today’s accepted beliefs are true only, and not the past in any shape or form.
“intentional stance” = you can’t *prove* anything, but can learn from others’ beliefs.

Whoo, talk about food for thought!

Intentional stance sounds like the most annoying, since ya can’t get anywhere in a debate, but it does sound the most open-minded of the four. Mental sentence theory sounds like my vote, however, as I love a good debate and ya gotta have a belief to get anywhere there.

The first time I really had to confront this question was about a year and a half ago, in which my old self-righteous boss nagged at a coworker yet again and made them feel very bad about themselves. Obviously not necessary or appropriate, right? So when a coworker decided to defend themselves, here’s how the conversation went:

“I feel like you’re way too harsh about little things that don’t deserve yelling. If you want me to improve I really don’t take kindly to that.”
“Now I’m sorry if my attitude offends you but it’s just the way I am, okay? I tend to lash out easily and if I’m raising my voice it’s just that I’m venting. Don’t take it personally.”

Well of course she’s going to take it personally: it’s directed at herself and it hurts her as a result. So now she’s expected to just take it because that’s how her boss handles stress?

The answer to this occasionally tricky question is obvious with mental disorders: yes, of course we’d be asking for too much for them to change what they were obviously born with. Remember Rain Man?

“You know what I think, Ray? I think this autism is a bunch of shit! Because you can’t tell me that you’re not in there somewhere!” 
” Boxer shorts. K-Mart!”
“ When I say stop it, why don’t you stop it? Why do you always have to act like an idiot?”

Granted, mental disorders are out and it would look bad on us to ask anything otherwise. But how about things that we feel define us? Take being shy. There’s nothing particularly wrong with it, but that’s another thing that people feel they can’t help. It depends on whether or not we see it as something negative and defective, but no matter how annoyed one might be at a shy person, most would concede that there’s nothing wrong with them. And that is precisely why any parent would intervene and say they are “special just the way you are.” It will be harder to interact with people, sure. But again, asking them to change would make you a jerk–not them.

I suppose it all falls back to evil versus good. If someone does something blatantly mean according to our standards of which, they ought to improve on that. Bottom line. Any other personality trait is up to the person in question, but is not principally necessary to their or our own good.

Hear that, ex boss? You’re kinda mean, so get better please? ;)

Whether it’s well-done journalistic research, blabbering on about things that don’t make sense, or pure narcissism, fact of the matter is that blogs seem to have captured the hearts of all. It makes sense for people whose career revolves around getting their writing publicized for whatever reason but how about the rest of us? I see folks with admirable bits on how to crochet patterns or an impressive albeit long-winded political bantering, but what’s it to them that millions of others can see what they’re thinking or what sorts of knowledge they can contribute to the world?

What’s interesting is that as our population keeps growing, so do these new means of communication. Now that we have more people, suddenly it translates to sharing more information with the masses. Back a century ago, books and newspapers and letters satisfied this information craving but I suppose ”satisfied” is really another way of saying that’s all they had. If someone offered up these new fangled ways of communicating to one another, there’s no reason in the world why they wouldn’t embrace it.

Would they, though? Because they weren’t a society driven to share information half as much as we are. Right? Or perhaps it’s simply human nature to have an opinion and to see what others think about it. Perhaps because we realize that there’s this massive amount of people out there with various busy agendas, we decide to cut them some slack and write our opinions instead of mouth them off. That way, they can view your thoughts whenever their schedule allows, and both parties can brew over the ideas presented to them instead of impulsively spouting the first thing that comes to mind (on a completely different train of thought, look: two teapot puns in one sentence!).

So one question remains, then: are blogs, because of its convenience and laid-back speed of conversation, more effective than talking face to face? More effective, probably, but not as fun. I would personally love to have a good ol’ fashioned debate group, because while thick-headed opinions and interrupters and people who get tongue-tied get you no where rather quickly, I suppose it’s the “human” quality of it all that provides me with the guilty pleasure.