In my previous discussion on preference falsification, I posited that a culture fostering free speech and open dialogue is essential for reaping the full benefits of free expression. This entry seeks to deepen that analysis by exploring a well-known fable related to preference falsification, contrasting the dynamics of this fable with the more complex realities we face today. We will also consider how what is often labeled as “cancel culture” plays a detrimental role in undermining a culture of free speech, perpetuating the cycle of preference falsification.
The fable in question is, of course, The Emperor’s New Clothes. Within this tale, the populace privately recognizes the Emperor’s nudity yet publicly insists on his grand attire out of fear of being ridiculed for their honesty. Ultimately, a child breaks the collective delusion by boldly proclaiming the Emperor’s nakedness, prompting a wave of agreement among the townsfolk who realize they share this private belief.
However, in real life, the mere act of one individual voicing their true belief is seldom enough to dispel the fog of preference falsification. Individuals often feel pressured to conform to perceived majorities rather than actual opinions. Consider a proposition, p. If 90% of the population privately rejects p but believes that 90% supports it, the social stakes become formidable. When p has been politicized or moralized, those who do not subscribe to it may feel an even greater obligation to publicly endorse it. Consequently, even a few courageous souls who voice dissent might merely be perceived as part of the small minority who do not support p.
This leads us to the concept of marginal cost. In the fable, the first person to declare the Emperor’s nudity faces no repercussions, and this catalyzes a collective revelation among the townsfolk. In stark contrast, the reality is that such a declaration often incurs significant social costs. Once someone shouts, “The Emperor has no clothes!” the crowd may respond with derision, reinforcing the belief that only those lacking insight would fail to see the Emperor’s supposed finery. Thus, the risk of joining the lone dissenter may outweigh the benefits for most.
Moreover, the first individual to assert the Emperor’s nakedness might simply be viewed as a fool, risking further mockery and ostracism. If the crowd quickly dismisses this proclamation as the delusion of an unenlightened simpleton, many onlookers will likely feel pressured to feign admiration for the Emperor’s attire, rather than risk being labeled foolish themselves. The costs associated with being the first to speak the truth can thus be prohibitively high.
Musa al-Gharbi, in his book We Have Never Been Woke, argues that each “Awokening” mirrors those that have come before it, with cancel culture being a recurring theme. He highlights that this phenomenon was similarly present during the second Great Awokening, albeit under the term “trashing.” He cites a 1970s magazine that defines trashing as follows:
Trashing has reached epidemic proportions…What is “trashing,” this colloquial term that expresses so much, yet explains so little?…It is not done to expose disagreements or resolve disputes. It is done to disparage and destroy. The means vary…Whatever methods are used, trashing involves a violation of one’s integrity, a declaration of one’s worthlessness, and an impugning of one’s motives. In effect, what is attacked is not one’s ideas, but one’s self. This attack is accomplished by making you feel that your very existence is inimical to the Movement and that nothing can change this short of ceasing to exist. These feelings are reinforced when you are isolated from your friends as they become convinced that their association with you is similarly inimical to the Movement and to themselves. Any support of you will taint them. Eventually, all your colleagues join in a chorus of condemnation which cannot be silenced, and you are reduced to a mere parody of yourself.
Whether through the scorn of a crowd at an Emperor’s parade, the act of being trashed, or the threat of cancellation, the costs associated with revealing one’s true beliefs can be exceedingly high, even if those beliefs are widely shared. In my earlier analysis, I noted that approximately 90% of students feel pressured to project a more left-leaning identity than they genuinely possess, believing that their academic and social success hinges on this facade.
Yet, while these costs are substantial, they are not insurmountable. As individuals willing to challenge the prevailing narrative vocalize their beliefs, they may encourage others to do the same, fostering a sense of solidarity among those who share hidden convictions. This gradual shift can lead to a tipping point, where previously concealed opinions can emerge into the public sphere, allowing the crowd to collectively recognize the Emperor’s nudity.
However, without a robust culture of free speech, reaching this tipping point may prove elusive. Imagine a scenario where 1,000 individuals are present, with the tipping point reached when just the 150th person openly acknowledges the Emperor’s lack of clothing. If cancel culture or any similar form of social pressure maintains the costs of revealing private beliefs above the threshold acceptable to this pivotal 150th person, the truth will remain obscured, and the majority will continue to maintain their falsehoods.
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