Think Like a Rocket Scientist

We undervalue evidence that contradicts our beliefs and overvalue evidence that confirms them.

As wonderful as the internet is, it has reinforced our worst tendencies. We accept as truth the first Google hit that confirms our beliefs

We don’t seek multiple references or filter out low-quality information. We quickly jump from “This sounds right to me” to “This is true.”

Confirming our theories feels good. We get a hit of dopamine every time we’re proven right. In contrast, hearing opposing views is a genuinely unpleasant experience—so much so that people turn down cold, hard cash to remain in their ideological bubble.

“The best response to false beliefs,” the researchers concluded, “is not necessarily providing correct information.”

“The problem here was not the error. It was the failure of NASA’s systems engineering, and the checks and balances in our processes to detect the error. That’s why we lost the spacecraft.”

“The problem here was not the error. It was the failure of NASA’s systems engineering, and the checks and balances in our processes to detect the error. That’s why we lost the spacecraft.” There was a gap—which went undetected—between the story the data told and the story the rocket scientists told themselves.

“The first principle is that you must not fool yourself—and you are the easiest person to fool.”

From a scientific perspective, opinions present several problems. Opinions are sticky. Once we form an opinion—our own very clever idea—we tend to fall in love with it, particularly when we declare it in public through an actual or a virtual megaphone. To avoid changing our mind, we’ll twist ourselves into positions that even seasoned yogis can’t hold.

As a result, at the outset of their investigation, scientists refrain from stating opinions. Instead, they form what’s called a working hypothesis. The operative word is working. Working means it’s a work in progress. Working means it’s less than final.

Opinions are defended, but working hypotheses are tested.

When we start with a single hypothesis and run with the first idea that pops into mind, it’s much easier for that hypothesis to become our master. It anchors us and blinds us to alternatives sitting in the periphery.

Before announcing a working hypothesis, ask yourself, what are my preconceptions? What do I believe to be true? Also ask, do I really want this particular hypothesis to be true? If so, be careful. Be very careful.

To make sure you don’t fall in love with a single hypothesis, generate several. When you’ve got multiple hypotheses, you reduce your attachment to any one of them and make it more difficult to quickly settle on one.

“The test of a first-rate intelligence,” F. Scott Fitzgerald said, “is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function.”

In focusing on the facts in front of us, we don’t focus enough—or at all—on the missing facts. As the focal facts scream for attention, we must ask, “What am I not seeing? What fact should be present, but is not?”

Our instinct in our personal and professional lives is to prove ourselves right. Every yes makes us feel good. Every yes makes us stick to what we think we know. Every yes gets us a gold star and a hit of dopamine.

Our instinct in our personal and professional lives is to prove ourselves right. Every yes makes us feel good. Every yes makes us stick to what we think we know. Every yes gets us a gold star and a hit of dopamine. But every no brings us one step closer to the truth. Every no provides far more information than a yes does. Progress occurs only when we generate negative outcomes by trying to

Our instinct in our personal and professional lives is to prove ourselves right. Every yes makes us feel good. Every yes makes us stick to what we think we know. Every yes gets us a gold star and a hit of dopamine. But every no brings us one step closer to the truth. Every no provides far more information than a yes does. Progress occurs only when we generate negative outcomes by trying to rebut rather than confirm our initial hunch.

The point of proving yourself wrong isn’t to feel good. The point is to make sure your spacecraft doesn’t crash, your business doesn’t fall apart, or your health doesn’t break down.