The emotions of big numbers
Posted in The breakdown of rationality on May 19th, 2012 by The Rabid Womble – Be the first to commentBuilding on the idea that we are cavemen wielding space age technology, our brains have not evolved for calculus.
Dan Gardner, in his excellent book Risk details how Stanislas Dehaene, a neurologist at the College de France, has found animals as varied as rats and dolphins have a basic grasp of numbers. They can differentiate between two and four. They also have:
“Elementary addition and subtraction abilities.”
But as the size of the numbers increase, even from one or two to six or seven, their abilities rapidly fall away.
It turns out that humans aren’t much better. Dehaene writes that, “We are systematically slower to compute, say, four + five than two + three.” Just as it takes animals longer to work out that eight is larger than nine, so it does with us. It takes effort to become numerate.
The difference between us and other animals is our capacity to create systematic representations of reality and to process them. The fact that the modern world is built on numbers – from the accounts department that pay you through to the computer that process information to displays this blog – is all built on the learning and experience of those that have preceded us.
Our brain is not wired to engage with large numbers. There have never been as many humans in the world as there are now, so how could I possibly have the capacity to emotionally relate to the fact that there are almost seven billion people alive? It is emotively meaningless.
Consider the case of the Tassie miners. Their dramatic situation, and their eventual rescue, captured the attention of the nation. The story dominated the news cycle for the two weeks they were trapped nearly a kilometre underground until they emerged, blinking into the sunlight. This was an emotive, gripping story that focused on just two men.
Larger disasters are harder to grasp. Joseph Stalin captured the essence of this point when he said:
“The death of one man is a tragedy, the deaths of millions is a statistic.”
Starkly true.The same unfortunate emotional reality is described beautifully by Wendell E. Berry:
“To hear of a thousand deaths in war is terrible, and we “know” that it is. But as it registers on our hearts, it is not more terrible than one death fully imagined. The economic hardship of one farm family, if they are our neighbors, affects us more painfully than pages of statistics on the decline of the farm population. I can be heartstruck by grief and a kind of compassion at the sight of one gulley (and by shame if I caused it myself), but, conservationist though I am, I am not nearly so upset by an accounting of the tons of plowland sediment borne by the Mississippi River. Wallace Stevens wrote that “Imagination applied to the whole world is vapid in comparison to imagination applied to a detail” — and that appears to have the force of truth.
It is a horrible fact that we can read in the daily paper, without interrupting our breakfast, numerical reckonings of death and destruction that ought to break our hearts or scare us out of our wits. This brings us to an entirely practical question: Can we—and, if we can, how can we—make actual in our minds the sometimes urgent things we say we know? This obviously cannot be accomplished by a technological breakthrough, nor can it be accomplished by a big thought. Perhaps it cannot be accomplished at all.”
We live in an infinite world that is resolved into our immediate, tangible, limited reality. All else is theory and speculation.












