On Sam Harris: When Rationality Meets Reality
Sam Harris is known for his logical, evidence-based approach to addressing societal issues. While I often find myself agreeing with his identification of problems, there are two major aspects of his methodology that I find problematic: his over-reliance on authority and his lack of concrete solutions.
The Authority Problem
Harris frequently dismisses narratives that don’t come from “experts,” which fundamentally conflicts with my ethos of “I don’t care who said it, I just care that it’s correct.” If someone without traditional credentials does enough research to become well-versed in a topic and can effectively call bullshit, that perspective is just as valid as an expert opinion—assuming it’s correct. The truth of an argument should stand on its own merits, regardless of who’s making it.
Solutions (or Lack Thereof)
Harris’s style typically involves identifying problems but rarely delving into solutions. His default response of “we need a science-based approach to solve X” feels inadequate. Don’t get me wrong—I believe the scientific method should inform our decision-making, and I’d never want to enact policy (especially heavy-handed policy) that contradicts scientific research. But science is messy, and it often conflicts with the political process and human nature.
When Logic Meets Human Nature
Take Harris’s “The Fireplace Delusion” as an example. The core argument is: when presented with undeniable facts, people will still continue to do the thing they enjoy—in this case, using fireplaces despite evidence about air pollution and health risks. Yes, these facts are true, but this argument completely ignores the very human concept of risk tolerance and what we’re comfortable with as a society.
If we follow Harris’s line of thinking to its logical conclusion, it seems to inevitably lead to increased regulation. After all, if people won’t voluntarily stop doing something harmful when presented with evidence, what options remain? We see this pattern play out in various domains: high taxes on cigarettes, carbon taxes on emissions, mandates to phase out gas-powered vehicles by certain dates. These are all examples of using regulation to force behavioral change when education and evidence alone fail to do so.
This reveals a significant tension in Harris’s approach. He correctly observes that humans will judge facts through the lens of their own preferences and risk tolerance, making it unlikely that everyone will draw the same conclusions from the same evidence. Yet he offers no alternative solutions beyond implying that people should simply accept the evidence and change their behavior—or presumably, be compelled to do so through regulation.
This is where his argument falls short. A more nuanced approach would acknowledge that society’s relationship with risk is complex and that regulation, while sometimes necessary, isn’t always the best or only answer to addressing harmful behaviors. Sometimes, the answer might lie in finding better alternatives, developing new technologies, or accepting that some level of risk is part of the human experience.
The AI Regulation Dilemma
This brings me to Harris’s stance on AI regulation, where I intensely disagree with his viewpoint about hindering AI research. The field is so new that even “experts” are far from expert when it comes to predicting its capabilities. It’s similar to a crypto “expert” who claims they can predict with certainty how their coin will perform—the field is simply too new to take any expert’s opinion as more than an educated guess.
To think that a centralized authority could effectively regulate AI without harming innovation seems naive. The timeline of development is too rapid, and our understanding is too limited for traditional regulatory approaches to be effective.
The Human Factor
While Harris does an admirable job of identifying societal issues, his outlook often seems to ignore fundamental human behaviors and preferences. The assumption that humans can or should be purely rational fails to recognize what it means to be human. People’s behaviors are essentially micro preference scales with built-in risk tolerance, and everyone’s risk tolerance is different.
This is why relying purely on scientific evidence, devoid of human preference and choice, isn’t always the best way to allow humans to flourish. Yes, we should be informed by evidence and expertise, but we also need to account for the messiness of human nature and individual choice.
In the end, while I appreciate Harris’s commitment to rational thinking and evidence-based approaches, sometimes taking these principles to their logical extremes leads to conclusions that most would consider unreasonable. The key is finding the balance between evidence-based decision-making and the reality of human nature—something that pure rationality alone can’t solve.