To declare yourself as “open-minded” is meaningless unless you have a system to enforce it.

In its absence, what was once a virtue becomes a comforting platitude for self-deception, and ironically produces the exact opposite effect.

Let’s rewind a little.

Who is ‘open-minded’? What does it even mean?

According to Baehr¹, an open-minded person has four characteristics:

1. Willing and able . . .
2. -to transcend a default cognitive standpoint-
3. -in order to take up or take seriously the merits of-
4. . . . a distinct cognitive standpoint.

For a sharper alternative, we turn to Battaly² : ‘the disposition to engage seriously with (relevant) intellectual options.’

Most people—especially at the summit of academia—hold open-mindedness as a virtue; how could it not be? It’s the first step in the cycle of critical thinking, being receptive to new ideas and accepting that old ones are transient.

In itself, open-mindedness is an intellectual good, but in an ironic twist, it can also poison critical thinking.

If one believes they are ‘open-minded,’ it grants a certain immunity to emotional bias or impartiality or logical error: how can I be wrong if my perspective is one drawn from fair judgement?

There is a whisper of teleology in this thinking, that history and ethics progress towards an idealistic end point, and that humanity is ‘discovering’ itself; whoever’s mind is open will find that end and enlighten the rest of us, the closed-off and the reactionary.

It is a quality that kills itself.

A groundless declaration from a consciousness that barely knows itself and thinks it can survive emotional manipulation, confirmation bias, echo chambers—the lot of it.

You are not immune. Nobody is.

But in all its flaws, it remains a virtue worth pursuing; wisdom begins with humility, and humility allows the mind to look beyond itself. It’s no weakness to accept the limits of the fallible mind.

To make sure our open-mindedness is true, we need an external system to enforce it.

Odysseus knew he could not resist the sirens, and so tied himself to the mast.

An external system holds us accountable where we otherwise fail; it reveals logical holes, it strains our worldview for the better, and it presents the evidence head on. If your mind isn’t open, it’ll be forced open.

What are these systems?

Debate

No man can call himself a fighter with zero bouts in the ring.

No man should call himself a thinker without a record of debate.

Debate has you clash with a totally separate consciousness, a person who talks back, raises counter-arguments, and spots errors in your thought, sometimes with enough grace (or cruelty) to dismantle you entirely.

It hurts, but it’s necessary.

Through debate, you reinforce your views through defence, but also uncover weaknesses and trails of nuance that you never thought to pursue. Ideas are ‘battle-tested’—far more valuable than stale theories bouncing across the walls of your skull.

Every opponent is a microcosm of unique knowledge and experiences, so you never know what to expect—a fleeting comment from a stranger can cut your ideology to bits. It happens.

Whether a debate is constructive or not is another story; you can approach it like a brick wall, refuse to listen, and dismiss them as ‘evil’ or ‘dumb’ or ‘misguided’ or whatever else makes you feel better about yourself.

Or, you can see debate as cooperation rather than straight competition.

Good debate is a mutual effort where each party brings elements of the truth to the table and the intellectual horsepower to build towards something more complete.

Debate needs not be formal either. It needs no suits or university campuses or clipped crashouts to upload on Reels. All you need is a good friend or two, and a beer to lubricate the conversation. Or a coffee, it your brain works better with the sun up.

Steelman (+ writing)

You can’t always debate, but you can always be your own opponent.

To ‘steelman’ an argument is to sincerely defend it as if it were your own. You adopt it—briefly, for the sake of argument—put flesh on the bones, and give it the strongest, most honest construction possible, as if you argue against yourself.

Worldviews are only as strong as their counter-arguments; if you stick your head in the sand at the slightest murmur of criticism like a paranoid dictator, then you have no reason to ever change your mind. Nothing else compels you because you never gave it a chance to speak.

To steelman is to have integrity and stand in the arena of ideas. You may find that, with real effort, it’s actually quite easy to change your mind without waiting for someone else to do it for you.

If you can refute counter-arguments to yourself, that’s also a win; you have given yourself more evidence to hold it, and nobody can accuse you of not trying.

Steelmanning works best through writing.

As arguments take life on paper, they become external agents with personalities of their own. Immaterial thoughts become something real that you can see. And walk around. And poke. And judge. And criticise and leave and return to and ruminate over—it leaves physical and mental room to properly understand what you’re dealing with.

For a truly open mind, stop telling yourself you have one.

Create a practice to guarantee it.

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¹ Baehr, J. (2011). The inquiring mind: On intellectual virtues and virtue epistemology. The inquiring mind. Oxford University Press.

² Battaly, H. (2018a). Closed-mindedness and dogmatism. Episteme, 15(3), 261–282. https:// doi. org/ 10. 1017/ epi. 2018. 22