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On Being Certain: Believing You Are Right Even When You're Not | 
enlarge | Author: Robert Burton Publisher: St. Martin's Press Category: Book
List Price: $24.95 Buy New: $12.47 You Save: $12.48 (50%)
New (35) Used (11) from $10.73
Avg. Customer Rating: 16 reviews Sales Rank: 8505
Media: Hardcover Number Of Items: 1 Pages: 272 Shipping Weight (lbs): 0.8 Dimensions (in): 8.4 x 5.8 x 1.2
ISBN: 0312359209 Dewey Decimal Number: 153.4 EAN: 9780312359201 ASIN: 0312359209
Publication Date: February 5, 2008 Availability: Usually ships in 1-2 business days Condition: Hardcover with dust jacket, in stock & ready to ship
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Product Description
You recognize when you know something for certain, right? You "know" the sky is blue, or that the traffic light had turned green, or where you were on the morning of September 11, 2001--you know these things, well, because you just do. In On Being Certain, neurologist Robert Burton challenges the notions of how we think about what we know. He shows that the feeling of certainty we have when we "know" something comes from sources beyond our control and knowledge. In fact, certainty is a mental sensation, rather than evidence of fact. Because this "feeling of knowing" seems like confirmation of knowledge, we tend to think of it as a product of reason. But an increasing body of evidence suggests that feelings such as certainty stem from primitive areas of the brain, and are independent of active, conscious reflection and reasoning. The feeling of knowing happens to us; we cannot make it happen. Bringing together cutting edge neuroscience, experimental data, and fascinating anecdotes, Robert Burton explores the inconsistent and sometimes paradoxical relationship between our thoughts and what we actually know. Provocative and groundbreaking, On Being Certain, will challenge what you know (or think you know) about the mind, knowledge, and reason.
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A Crucial Question: How Do You Know What You Know? October 20, 2008 "On Being Certain: Believing You are Right Even When You're Not" provides a compelling examination of the feeling of certainty each of us have. Robert Burton, a neurologist and gifted writer, argues that this "feeling of knowing" is a sensation, much like touch or sight. Burton proposes a well-crafted thesis, suggesting that this feeling of knowing is identical whether or not the associated knowledge is true. Through a variety of means, he draws in the reader to formulate a convincing case. Burton explains that his motivation is for the reader to question how we really "know what we know," and much of the book serves this purpose quite well. However, a few chapters distract the reader by straying away from the central thesis. At other moments, Burton seems to do the very thing he cautions the reader against: presenting a "stance of absolute certainty" about topics that could allow for alternative opinions or understandings.
In the first four chapters of the book, Burton forms a strong introduction to his argument. He introduces the concept of the "feeling of knowing" through personal anecdotes and allows the reader to experience this feeling through a simple thought experiment. With this foundation, Burton uses case studies to explain that we often are certain of knowledge that is, in fact, untrue. Burton also suggests that pathologies often provide a basis for study of complex concepts in healthy individuals is supported by the story of a patient suffering from viral encephalitis and Cotard's Syndrome. Through this example, Burton illustrates the power of the brain to "know" something as true, even when logic and reason all indicate that it is false.
After forming the outline of his thesis, Burton spends the next several chapters crafting the most compelling points of his argument. The reader is introduced to pertinent aspects of neuroscience when they are relevant, and a layperson can easily follow the diagrams and explanations that Burton offers. By combining the prevailing theories in neuroscience and artificial intelligence (AI) research, Burton proposes a straightforward description of the decision-making process in the brain. His suggestion of a "hidden layer" that acts as a "committee" of influences (made of past memories, genetic predispositions, and even a "feeling of knowing") is easy to understand and seems to be a logical theory. With this model, his "perverse possibility" that an "unwarranted `feeling of knowing' might serve a positive evolutionary role" (95) is easily accepted as a reasonable theory.
In addition to arguing for the importance of this "feeling of knowing," Burton attempts to explain the manner in which this feeling acts. At this point, his argument begins to weaken. Burton describes the ability of the brain to "reorganize" the timing of actual events in order to present a more logical picture through the use of a baseball analogy. Additionally, he describes the scientific distinctions between emotions and sensations. These are interesting stories, but Burton does not provide any data to connect these concepts with his newly defined "feeling of knowing." His postulations are well thought out; however, he presents them so that an unwary reader might read his conclusions as fact, rather than theory.
The final few chapters of the book diverge from Burton's central thesis. Chapter twelve, focused on "reason" and "objectivity," includes a review of three recently published books about cognitive science in popular culture; however, none of them directly relate to his hypothesis. Burton remains a clear, coherent writer as he describes the problems with recent publications about "the rational mind," but he distracts the reader from the argument that he has previously built. An analysis of perspectives on alternative medicine has the potential to provide a strong argument for the central thesis of the book, and Burton approaches this argument. At one point, he says "imagine how different each of these claims would have been if intuition and gut feeling were acknowledged to be unconscious thoughts associated with a strong `feeling of knowing' rather than bona fide forms of trustworthy knowledge" (166). However, instead of advancing with this point, he changes the subject to the readers' perceptions and never solidifies a potentially compelling argument.
The chapter titled "Faith" is equally frustrating. It holds the potential to be the most compelling in the book: faith and the unfounded certainty Burton describes seem to be, in many ways, synonymous. Rather than focusing on why or how individuals have faith, Burton focuses more on the personalities and comments of those who claim to a concrete set of beliefs. The most frustrating aspect of this chapter is Burton's presentation of quotes that could be interpreted in many ways in a biased fashion, with his own concrete dissection of the quote. This certainty leads him to take isolated quotes from larger of bodies of work by Francis Collins and Charles Darwin and present them as parallel situations with opposing outcomes. This presentation allows Burton to make a return to his central thesis; however, isolated presentation of the quotes prevents the reader from having the opportunity to interpret the quotations any way other that which Burton presents with complete certainty.
Throughout the book, Burton's strong abilities are visible. He creates a well-crafted argument that will certainly receive further examination and will be the subject of many studies in years to come. Burton crafts a book that peers in his field and laypeople with no experience in neuroscience will be interested to read. Although he occasionally strays from the central thesis, his diversions are still well written and intriguing. The greatest weakness of the book is that Burton commits the same offense that he cautions against. His arguments are compelling, but not yet conclusive; however, he seems to allow his own "feeling of knowing" to dominate, and he presents his theories with complete certainty. Throughout the book, readers should constantly ask Burton his own question: "how do you know what you know?" (224) With this caution in mind, "On Being Certain" provides a fascinating examination of the brain's creation and utilization of certainty.
Engaging and Challenging Exploration of Belief October 16, 2008 1 out of 1 found this review helpful
As an avid reader of books in this category, I was pleased to find something new in Robert Burton's book: a head-on engagement with the infrastructure of belief. The question Burton asks is on the face of it a simple one, but in its implications extremely complex: how do we know what we know? As a matter of practical observation, Burton asks why are some people so utterly convinced that their positions are correct while others consistently entertain doubt? From this starting point, Burton takes us through an entertaining and challenging tour -- part neuroscience, part psychology, and part philosophy. The interconnections between these disciplines are elegant and form the tapestry of a convincing argument. In my library I have a selection of books that have influenced my thinking, and among those are a select few that I revisit for insights over and over again. "On Being Certain" is among that select few, and I give it my highest recommendation.
Great book October 11, 2008 This is the challenge to 'certainty' (>>the kind of 'certainty', that is very familiar to religious and fanatic people<<) from the direction of SCIENCE (and not just philosophy) that has long been overdue.
And also it's like a shout out from the conscience of science to us scientists and the normal person from the street who has (maybe) never thought about what science does, and that message is: "1.) Keep in mind, what 'certainty' means in science! 2.) Don't over -estimate/-interpret what you found. 3.) True knowledge is always testable for accuracy while belief is not!"
Thanks you Robert M. Burton.
cdc444 got it wrong October 3, 2008 0 out of 5 found this review helpful
On Being Certain started out moderately interesting but at page 52 I hit a severe snag. When an author gets something I know about so totally wrong (or is being gratuitously nasty) I find I cannot trust what he says about things I don't know so much about. The comment that B.F. Skinner wanted to raise people like veal is so totally absurd I couldn't finish the book and will be returning it to Amazon for a refund.
Entertaining and Interesting, but... August 12, 2008 15 out of 17 found this review helpful
I am always slightly annoyed when a book is not about what is is supposed to be about. A few chapters of this book - those towards the end - are on why the feeling of certainty is just that: a feeling. This leads the author to some interesting discussions about how the 'feeling of certianty (a feeling though it is) is something that tends not to be subject to reason, but owes more to emotion. The author also goes into some really interesting thoughts about evolutionary reasons why the feeling of certainty as a tool to help us survive in an uncertain world (where we have to act, so we might as well act with conviction).
Unfortunately, this only happens well into the second half of the book (maybe 2/3rds of the way through). The first many chapters are stage setters. There are chapters about distinguishing what is meant by "mental states," "feeling" and "sensation," chapters describing how we know that emotions like fear, deja vu, and religious experience are chemical in nature, and how the "mind" is an emergent property tying together several components of the brain into a unity.
The author also spends quite a bit of time talking about what neuroscientists term the "hidden layer." That is, when we make decisions, the brain "surveys" a whole host of things - past experiences, attitudes one has acquired, things one has learned, etc. - to come to a conclusion, but this is all "hidden" form our consciousness. Thus, the author concludes that while we may feel like our deliberations are conscious, often the bulk of our deliberation is unconscious.
All of this, the author tells us, supports the thesis (that he eventually gets to) suggesting that certainty is a feeling,, and not always one subject to rationality as we generally assume. Since we have seen that attitudes like fear, deja vu, and sense of purpose are feelings like any other, and we have seen that feelings like these are often not subject to rationality (try convincing a clinically depressed person that the feeling of purposelessness is only a chemical "illusion"), and we know that much of our thought is unconcious, we can also infer that the feeling of certianty is subject to all of these. (Try convincing a young-earth creationist that the earth is more than 6,000 years old and that their certainty is not due to the strength of the idea.)
Really, I don't have any huge qualms with this. We've all seen people be so certain of something that is (to us) obviously wrong, and know all to well that people's attachment to ideas often has not a thing to do with rationality. (And we all, if we are honest, realize that we have been the 'dummy' in this scenario as well.)
My biggest problem, from a literary standpoit, is that the author takes a very long time to get to his point, beginning many chapters with something like: "I want to talk about the feeling of certainty. But first, let's..." Once that happens too many times, I begin to lose patience, particularly when some chapters (like that reviewing the difference between "feelings" and "sensations") simply go on longer than they should.
My philosophical beefs with the book is: the author, who suggests may times that we cannot step beyond our feelings of certainty if they are strong enough, would be well served to have included a chapter on examples where people DO change their minds about things they were once deeply certain about. The fact that this happens - albeit happens only with difficulty and pain - gives empirical lie to this thesis.
Really, this is a quite interesting book with an interesting case that simply takes the author too many pages to make. I resisted the urge to skip ahead numerous times (and did skip half a chapter that seemed to veer frequently off topic). I wish the author would have discussed the issue of 'certainty' more than the tertiarilly related matter of brain states like fear and deja vu.
In the end, I would reccomend this book to people as a follow-up read to books like "Mistakes Were Made," which give a much more direct discussion of our brain's tendency to fall into illusions of certainty. This book does that, but simply tries to do so much more that it may better have been written as a collection of loosely related essays.
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