How We Decide What’s True
(10 minute read)
Key Takeaways:
- Our instincts are powerful—but not reliable truth detectors. The same mental shortcuts that once protected us from physical danger now distort how we interpret information, arguments, and social threats.
- Higher reasoning requires deliberate effort. Clear thinking doesn’t happen automatically; it demands that we slow down, question first impressions, examine evidence, and override emotional reflexes when necessary.
- Bias is not a moral flaw—it’s a cognitive inheritance. We are wired to favor patterns, protect prior beliefs, and react quickly. Recognizing this isn’t self-condemnation—it’s the starting point for intellectual maturity.
- An “internal bullshit detector” must be trained and consciously activated. Separating fact from fiction in a modern world of headlines, viral content, and ideological noise requires disciplined skepticism, humility, and second looks.
In Decoding Lies 1 we explored the idea that human prosperity depends on our ability to distinguish truth from falsehood in a world saturated with claims and counterclaims. We learned that we all possess an internal “bullshit detector,” shaped by evolution, culture, personal experience, and worldview, which helps us evaluate what to believe. By examining how this detector works—and how bias and background influence it—we reflected on being more critical and honest in our own standards of evidence and truth.
“(Critical thinking) …is the careful and deliberate determination of whether to accept, reject, or suspend judgment (belief) about a claim.” –Moore and Parker, Critical Thinking
Our Best Lives Depend On It
By “our best lives,” I do not mean one of constant pleasure, wealth, or status, but that are healthy, honest, and most fulfilling. One in which our decisions tend to align with reality, our relationships are grounded in trust rather than illusion, and our goals are shaped by accurate understanding rather than wishful thinking.
To live well in this sense requires navigating a complex world filled with competing claims, partial truths, and persuasive misinformation. The quality of that navigation depends, in large part, on the quality of our reasoning.
Human beings differ from other animals in part because of a comparatively advanced capacity for abstract and analytical reasoning. Many animals can remember where to find food and can learn which environments are safer than others. Humans share these basic abilities but also possess a distinctive capacity to deduce, analyze, and systematically construct solutions to complex problems.
This kind of reasoning has enabled human societies to exert an extraordinary degree of influence over the planet—for constructive purposes or for destructive ones—depending in large measure on the ideas, assumptions, and values that guide our thinking.
A key element of this higher-level reasoning is an innate capacity to evaluate claims: the ability to consider what people say, do, or write and to judge whether those claims appear credible or deceptive. This evaluative capacity—sometimes called a “BS detector”—is part of normal human cognitive equipment; we all possess it to some degree from birth, though it develops over time.
With attention and practice, we can become significantly more skilled at distinguishing what is well-supported from what is misleading or false. Strengthening this ability generally requires deliberate effort and consistent use, more than most of us typically invest by default.
From this point forward, it is possible to improve the quality of our thinking and, in turn, the quality of our decisions.
This higher reasoning skill involves gathering multiple pieces of information, identifying relevant connections among them, and using those connections to address complex questions and problems. Albert Einstein is often cited as a prominent example of someone who both exercised and explicitly advocated for the disciplined use of higher reasoning.
“The value of a college education is not the learning of many facts but the training of the mind to think.” –Albert Einstein, New York Times, 1921
Higher reasoning is not limited to memorizing facts and figures. It involves collecting as much relevant, reliable information as is practical and then using it to make sound judgments, select appropriate responses, and address real problems as they arise. A foundational step in this process is to evaluate the information available: some claims are straightforward to verify or falsify, while others rely more heavily on interpretation, values, or incomplete evidence.
Consider the following statement: The President of the United States is elected to office and serves a four-year term.
Is this a statement of fact or a statement of opinion?
It is a statement of fact, because it can be verified by consulting trusted, authoritative sources—for example, the text of the U.S. Constitution and other official government documents.
Now consider this statement: The United States must further its war effort on terrorism in order to protect itself from enemy attack.
Is this statement better understood as fact or as opinion?
This is most appropriately classified as an opinion, because no single trusted, definitive source can conclusively verify the claim. It rests on judgments about risk, strategy, and future events, all of which are subject to reasonable disagreement and interpretation.
The fact that a relative, friend, or commentator—no matter how confident—insists that such a claim is true does not by itself establish its accuracy. Personal conviction is not a substitute for evidence from reliable, independent sources.
Higher Reasoning and Bias
Using our internal bullshit detector takes work—usually more work than we’re willing to give. It’s much easier to lean on opinions and biases than to slow down, look at the facts, and weigh the arguments.
That may not sound profound, but it matters. This habit is what gets us into the most trouble.
Long before we built cities, our hunter–gatherer ancestors had to figure out how the world worked. They learned just enough about cause and effect to make decisions that kept them alive.
Picture it this way.
A hunting party sets out on a badly needed trip. Food is scarce, the tribe is hungry, and this hunt has to succeed.
An hour in, they reach unfamiliar ground. To the left: wide open grassland. To the right: a cluster of large rocks. One hunter approaches the rocks. A tiger explodes from cover and kills him in a single leap.
The others bolt in the opposite direction. Fight-or-flight kicks in and they choose flight. Back with the tribe, they relive what happened.
“Did you see what happened to Bob?”
“Did I see what happened to Bob? What am I, blind? Of course I saw it.”
“Where did that tiger come from?”
“Not sure. But from now on, we avoid all big rocks.”
That simple conclusion was a major step in human evolution.
Those who could remember key events and draw useful lessons were more likely to survive. They learned, refined, and passed those lessons on. Becoming dinner was terrible for Bob, but good for everyone who watched and learned. It kept them—and eventually us—off the menu.
The other Bobs—the ones who didn’t learn—were far more likely to be removed from the gene pool.
Our fight-or-flight instinct was shaped in those moments and still lives in us today. It’s useful when you don’t want to be eaten—or blindsided by any serious danger. In a heartbeat, we either run or stand and fight.
Later we’ll look more closely at what’s real and what isn’t. For now, try another thought experiment with me.
Imagine walking alone through a field on a perfect day. Blue sky, no clouds. A light breeze moves the grass like waves. The air smells of spring flowers. It feels good just to be outside.
Then you glance down and see a long, dark, slender shape. You know exactly what it is before you can form the word.
SNAKE!
What happens in that instant?
Your mind races. Your heart slams faster. Blood pressure spikes. Airways open. Sweat breaks. Your body floods with chemicals, priming you to fight or run.
Just as you’re about to react, you look again and exhale.
It’s only a stick.
Psychologists sometimes describe this as two modes of thinking. System 1 is fast, automatic, and emotional. It’s what shouts “SNAKE!” before you can think. System 2 is slower and more deliberate. It’s what takes a second look and says, “Wait. That’s a stick.” Both systems are necessary—but trouble starts when we let System 1 make decisions that require System 2.
In many ways, our internal bullshit detector is just System 2 doing its job—pausing, checking, and refusing to let instinct have the final word.
The second reaction is often a laugh—and then the inner commentary. You’ve probably heard it before.
“You dummy. It’s just a ____.”
It was only a stick, but you couldn’t tell your brain or body that at first. An ancient instinct took over. And it’s hard to beat yourself up for that; in a different moment, it could just as easily have been a snake.
So we live to fight another day against those “anaconda” tree branches.
The danger felt real. The same instinct that protects us from real threats also fires at imagined ones. That can flood us with anxiety and push us toward bad decisions. It’s helpful when we’re facing real—or apparent—snakes. But how do we handle more complex choices, the ones that require us to separate fact from fiction?
The very instinct that once saved us from tigers now pushes us to defend ideas the same way we defend our lives. Today, the tiger rarely leaps from behind a rock. Instead, it appears in a headline, a tweet, or a viral clip. Our pulse still quickens. Our outrage still spikes. We share, react, and condemn before we’ve taken the second look. The grass rustles, and we assume fangs.
Snakes are simple. Truth is not.
Our instincts evolved to handle immediate physical threats. They were not designed to evaluate policy proposals, viral videos, or complex moral claims. Yet we often treat those challenges as if they were tigers in the grass.
Editor’s note: This essay was originally published as Decoding Lies: Using Your Bullshit Indicator, Parts 1–8, on Jan. 16, 2023 – Jan. 24, 2023. The parts have been combined and edited for clarity and continuity.
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