Simple Minds, Part 1 - Prototypes

Audie does so much work for us behind the scenes that we can scarcely imagine the complexity. It starts with moment-to-moment categorization of the world around us.

Categorization plays the vital role of simplifying an otherwise impossibly complex mass of sensory data. Whenever we perceive, we categorize. Every split second. We can’t help it. Categorization is the foundation of human cognition. Without the ability to simplify our environment into identifiable, individuated things, the world would appear to us as one big blur of light and sound and smell and taste and touch.

Categorization has been debated for over 2,000 years. Yet until recently it was mostly philosophers doing the debating. Only in the 1970s did scientists get seriously involved: psychologists began performing experiments that provided evidence of how human categorization actually works. These experiments led to an approach called “embodied realism,” which is a compromise between “objectivists” and “subjectivists”: yes, there is a world out there, but how we perceive it is a function of our brains and bodies. Categories don’t exist “in the world”; they are human inventions. And, crucially, they serve to simplify the world for us.

One set of experimental findings that rocked the study of categories to its core involves something called “prototypes.”

Prototypes are exemplars, or reference points — simplified conceptual anchors. When we see something new, we compare the new thing to these exemplars. If we see an object with four legs, a flat surface and a straight back, and it looks like a human could sit in it, we’ll call it a chair. We recognize the shape immediately, and we would all agree that it’s a chair. But what if a chair happened to have only three legs? Or no legs at all, as is the case with some types of modular furniture? What about beanbag chairs? Until Eleanor Rosch and colleagues discovered prototypes in the 1970s, no theorist could make a serious attempt at answering these questions.

Rosch and colleagues conducted dozens of rounds of studies asking subjects a variety of questions about categories and their members. They discovered what they called “prototype effects.” Take the category bird. Certain birds — especially robins and swallows — were rated “better” birds than, say, ostriches and penguins. Robins and swallows were listed first, recognized as birds first, explicitly rated as better examples of birds, and so on.

Strangest of all, even categories with crisp boundaries showed prototype effects. Take the category “even number”: 4 is judged to be a “better” even number than 8, 8 is better than 10, 10 is better than 34, and 34 is better than 106. How could this be?

It could only be true if categories are human inventions — specifically, simplifications carried out by Audie. The category judgments in the experiments were made under time pressure, when only Otto could operate. When asked explicitly, and able to draw on Connie’s insights, subjects were clear that all even numbers are equally valid. Most cognition, though, is carried out by Audie, and we are at Audie’s mercy.

What can we expect for humanity when our lives are run by a lizard who thinks that 4 is a better even number than 106?

Most importantly for the human condition, prototypes can take on a sinister form: the stereotype. They are sinister for two reasons. First, they reduce entire groups, in all their complexity and diversity, to a single, fictitious, usually negative exemplar. This fundamentally limits our ability to appreciate diversity and uniqueness. Second, stereotypes, as products of Audie, do their work in the shadows. Each of us has countless stereotypes, and we reason and act based on these stereotypes, without even knowing that we’re doing it.

This is a real conundrum. On the one hand, the complexity of human cognition guarantees diversity: each of us holds a dizzyingly complex and unique set of truths, as does each culture. On the other hand, Audie is programmed to simplify this diversity into stereotypes. It’s no wonder people have trouble getting along.