第 1 章
The Mind's Invisible Power: Our Sixth Sense in Action
Ever wondered why your spouse seems completely oblivious to what you're thinking, despite years together? Or why that coworker consistently misreads your intentions? Nicholas Epley's "Mindwise" explores the fascinating paradox at the heart of human connection: our remarkable ability to understand others' thoughts and feelings-and our consistent failure to do so accurately. This New York Times bestseller has captivated readers from Silicon Valley executives to psychology professors, with Bill Gates calling it "one of the most illuminating books on human behavior." Epley, a renowned behavioral scientist at the University of Chicago, draws on two decades of groundbreaking research to reveal how our "mind-reading" abilities shape everything from personal relationships to international diplomacy. As Epley discovered through his own powerful experience meeting his adopted children's biological father in Ethiopia, our greatest social tool operates constantly yet invisibly-and with far less accuracy than we believe.
第 2 章
The Overconfident Mind Reader: Why We Think We Know More Than We Do
Our sixth sense-the ability to understand others' thoughts, feelings, and intentions-operates with remarkable speed. Within just 50 milliseconds of seeing someone's face, we form impressions about their competence that predict election outcomes with 70% accuracy. This quick judgment system gives us tremendous confidence in our social perceptions. Like President George W. Bush, who claimed he could "read fear, confidence, and resolve" in other world leaders after brief meetings, we trust our snap judgments about others.
But how accurate are we really? Research reveals a sobering truth: while we have a decent sense of how groups evaluate us (correlation of .55), we're barely better than random guessing at predicting how specific individuals view us (correlation of just .13). We might know our coworkers generally think we're smart, but have virtually no clue which particular colleagues find us intelligent versus those who don't.
This pattern extends across numerous domains. Studies consistently show we're only slightly better than chance at guessing who likes us within a group (correlation of .18). Job candidates can barely predict which interviewers were impressed by them. Speed daters fail to accurately identify who wants to date them. Even when predicting something as concrete as how attractive others will find us in photographs, research shows zero correlation between our predictions and actual ratings.
Our ability to detect deception is similarly poor-just 54% accurate, barely better than flipping a coin. This has led to catastrophic misjudgments throughout history, from failed intelligence assessments to wrongful convictions based on false confessions.
Even more troubling is our relationship with those closest to us. While we do know close friends and romantic partners better than strangers, this advantage is surprisingly modest. Research by William Ickes shows strangers can read each other's thoughts with about 20% accuracy, while close friends and married couples reach only about 35% accuracy. More concerning still, our confidence in knowing loved ones' minds dramatically exceeds our actual insight.
In studies resembling "The Newlywed Game," romantic partners predicted each other's responses with 44% accuracy (better than chance but far from perfect), yet believed they were right 82% of the time-a massive overconfidence ratio. Even more troubling, this overconfidence increased with relationship length, while actual accuracy didn't improve at all.
The fundamental problem isn't that our sixth sense is completely flawed-it generally performs better than chance-but that our confidence far outstrips our actual ability. We think we understand others far better than we actually do.
第 3 章
The Illusion of Self-Knowledge: Why We Misunderstand Our Own Minds
"I think, therefore I am." Descartes' famous declaration reflects a deeply held Western belief that while we may struggle to understand others, we can at least know our own minds with certainty. This conviction has shaped philosophy, psychology, and everyday thinking for centuries. But is our confidence in self-knowledge truly justified?
The scientific journey to answer this question began with Richard LaPiere's revealing experiment in the 1930s. Traveling with a Chinese couple during the height of anti-Asian sentiment, LaPiere visited over 250 establishments across America. Despite widespread prejudice, they were refused service only once. Yet when LaPiere later surveyed these same establishments asking if they would serve Chinese customers, over 90% claimed they would refuse. This dramatic disconnect between what people believe about themselves and how they actually behave has been replicated countless times since.
Consider these examples: People predict outrage when witnessing racism but typically remain silent when actually confronted with it. In Stanley Milgram's famous obedience experiments, participants delivered far more electric shock than they predicted they would-none believed they would administer potentially lethal 450-volt shocks, yet 62.6% actually did. Even in everyday life, the "planning fallacy" shows how poorly we understand ourselves-most people consistently underestimate how long tasks will take, even in their "worst-case" scenarios.
Why are we so blind to our own minds? The traditional "iceberg" metaphor for consciousness misleads us in two ways: it falsely suggests that 90% of our brain is untapped potential (when unconscious processes are actually working constantly), and it implies a direct connection between conscious and unconscious processes that doesn't necessarily exist.
A better metaphor is a house-you can accurately describe its finished form but remain clueless about its construction. Like someone who can see their home's features but cannot explain why there's a steel beam in one wall or cold air blowing through a mysterious hole, we can report our conscious experiences but only guess at the processes that constructed them.
Consider vision-one of your brain's most important functions, consuming a third of its resources. This massive neural dedication isn't simply for converting light waves into neural pulses, but because visual input requires extensive constructive work to produce coherent images. What we see isn't purely a reflection of the external world but a constructed product existing "in here." Our brain uses prior knowledge to fill in details, and our perception is heavily influenced by context.
Our preferences and judgments work similarly. Despite what you might believe, beauty isn't entirely subjective-people worldwide, even day-old infants, generally agree on attractiveness. One consistent determinant is bilateral symmetry, which signals genetic health. Yet almost no one consciously recognizes symmetry as the reason for attraction. As the nursery rhyme captures: "I do not like thee, Doctor Fell, the reason why I cannot tell."
This illusion of introspective access creates a disturbing consequence: it makes our minds appear superior to others'. When someone disagrees with us on important issues like abortion or gun control, we assume they must be biased, uninformed, or unreasonable. This "I'm right and you're biased" mentality fuels serious conflicts, with conservatives blaming the "lamestream media" while liberals accuse others of conspiracy. True understanding requires humility about our own judgment and recognition that others may not be as wrong as we think.
第 4 章
Dehumanization: When We Fail to See Others' Minds
In 1879, Standing Bear, chief of the Ponca tribe, stood in a Nebraska courtroom fighting for recognition as a human being. After being forcibly relocated from their fertile lands to desolate Indian Territory where nearly a third of his tribe died, he had attempted to return his son's bones to their ancestral burial grounds. U.S. officials arrested the group, portraying the Poncas as mindless savages to justify treating them as property rather than persons.
In a powerful moment during the trial, Standing Bear held out his hand and declared, "This hand is not the color of yours. But if I pierce it, I shall feel pain. If you pierce your hand, you also feel pain. The blood that will flow from mine will be the same color as yours. I am a man."
This historic moment illustrates dehumanization-when we fail to engage our sixth sense to recognize the mind of another person. This happens not just in extreme cases of prejudice, but in everyday situations where psychological distance exists. Throughout history-from European colonizers viewing indigenous peoples as lacking reason or self-control, to NFL owners treating players as machines rather than humans, to doctors performing surgery on infants without anesthesia until the 1990s because they didn't believe babies could feel pain-we see this pattern repeat.
Psychological distance-how connected we feel to others-keeps our sixth sense disengaged for two key reasons: physical distance prevents sensory triggers from activating our mind-reading abilities, and psychological distance prevents cognitive inferences that would help us understand others' minds.
Our brains naturally synchronize with others through a three-step process. First, we share attention-focusing on the same thing. Second, our bodies physically synchronize-we wince when others are hurt, yawn when they yawn, and unconsciously adopt similar postures. Finally, our minds merge-when we're watching the same thing and reacting similarly, we feel what others feel. This connection requires proximity; if we close our eyes, look away, or stand too far to see or hear, our sixth sense remains untriggered.
While sensing requires physical presence, we can also understand others' minds through inference. This happens in a specific brain region-the medial prefrontal cortex (MPFC)-which activates when we contemplate others' thoughts and feelings. The MPFC engages most strongly when thinking about ourselves and those similar to us, and significantly less for psychologically distant others-explaining why we struggle to understand the minds of those different from us.
When we fail to engage with others' minds, we perceive them as having "lesser minds"-less sophisticated, less free, more predictable. In studies, people consistently claim they have more free will than others do, seeing their own futures as less predictable and containing more possibilities than their peers'. We attribute fewer complex emotions like shame, pride, and guilt to distant outgroups, from political opponents to foreign nationals.
This dehumanization makes us less socially intelligent in crucial areas. When fighting terrorism, dehumanizing enemies leads to flawed strategies. Contrary to popular belief, terrorists aren't unfeeling savages but individuals motivated by "parochial altruism"-a commitment to benefit their group regardless of personal consequences. Mischaracterizing terrorists as mindless led to ineffective "shock and awe" strategies that often strengthened rather than weakened their resolve.
Leaders consistently underestimate their employees' intrinsic motivations. Studies with MBA students, military officers, and corporate managers show people believe others care primarily about extrinsic rewards (money, benefits) while they themselves value intrinsic rewards (meaning, pride, growth). The NUMMI experiment demonstrated this dramatically: when Toyota reopened a failed GM plant with the same workers but treated them as fully human-capable of learning, improving processes, and taking pride in work-the worst-performing plant became the best within a year.
As many African traditions speak of "ubuntu"-the idea that "a person is a person through other persons"-our humanity comes not from how we behave in isolation but from how we treat others as fully human beings with complete minds.
第 5 章
Anthropomorphism: Finding Minds Where None Exist
While we often fail to recognize minds in other humans, we paradoxically see minds where none exist. From Mayor Ray Nagin attributing Hurricane Katrina to God's anger to stock market analysts describing the market as "angry" or "pleased," we routinely anthropomorphize mindless entities. People see faces in smoke billowing from the World Trade Center towers, attribute personalities to their cars, and ascribe complex emotions to their pets. This tendency to spot humanlike minds everywhere represents the inverse of dehumanization-both involve the same psychological mechanisms working in opposite directions.
The attribution of minds exists on a spectrum from rocks (clearly mindless) to humans (clearly minded), with contentious "gray minds" in between-fetuses, chimpanzees, farm animals, corporations, and gods. These gray areas fuel culture wars precisely because objective answers about their mental capacities are elusive. Scientific research challenges our intuitions: for instance, studies show a dog's "guilty look" responds to owner disapproval regardless of wrongdoing, suggesting we project guilt onto pets.
We're easily fooled by visual cues that suggest minds where none exist. While nature is full of apparent mimicry-like the owl butterfly's "eyes"-research reveals our interpretations often reflect our own mind-detection biases rather than evolutionary strategies. Studies show that birds respond to conspicuous visual contrasts regardless of whether they resemble eyes, yet humans remain hypersensitive to anything eye-like. This sensitivity has measurable effects: people behave more generously when observed by robot eyes or even eye images on notices (professors paid three times more for coffee when eye pictures were displayed).
Beyond eyes, motion is crucial-neither too fast (hummingbirds) nor too slow (sloths), but movement at human speed triggers mind perception. This similarity principle works well for simple perception but creates false alarms with mind detection, explaining why we respond emotionally to animated characters or anthropomorphized robots despite knowing they lack consciousness.
Perceptual cues alone can't explain why people attribute minds to abstract entities. Scientists at Fermilab's Tevatron particle accelerator described their machine as having "moods" and being "unhappy" despite its lack of humanlike features. This tendency emerges particularly when objects behave unpredictably-cars and computers seem more mindful when they malfunction. Experiments showed that unpredictable gadgets like "Clocky" (an alarm clock that runs away) were perceived as having more consciousness than predictable ones, activating the same neural regions involved in thinking about human minds.
Beyond unpredictability, emotional connection triggers our tendency to perceive minds in non-human entities. My wife's stuffed elephant Packy exemplifies this-while she doesn't literally believe it's conscious, she would fiercely protect it from harm. College students similarly rate favorite TV characters as more "real" than disliked ones. Connection requires engaging our sixth sense, which explains why musicians humanize their instruments (like Willie Nelson's "Trigger") and why the lonely are more likely to anthropomorphize objects, pets, and even believe in watchful deities.
Our tendency to recognize minds in non-humans reflects our brain's greatest ability rather than stupidity, though we must balance this against the greater moral error of failing to recognize actual minds in humans and sentient animals.
第 6 章
The Egocentric Trap: Why We Can't Get Over Ourselves
Our tendency to remain at the center of our own universe creates a fundamental challenge in mind reading. When attempting to understand others, we struggle to overcome our own experiences, beliefs, attitudes, emotions, knowledge and visual perspective. This self-centeredness is so basic that even in simple interactions, we must consciously adopt another's point of view to avoid social misunderstanding.
Consider the joke where a man asks how to get to the other side of a river, and the person across responds, "You are on the other side." This humor highlights our fundamental need to adopt others' perspectives in social interactions. While children are notoriously self-centered, adults haven't completely outgrown this tendency-we've simply become better at correcting it. Piaget's research showed children struggle with perspective-taking, but modern psychology reveals adults maintain the same egocentric reflexes, just with better correction mechanisms. Eye-tracking experiments demonstrate both children and adults initially look at objects from their own perspective, but adults more quickly adjust their understanding to match another's viewpoint.
The "neck problem" occurs when people attend to different information based on their unique physical or mental vantage points. We often fail to recognize that others perceive different aspects of a situation than we do. This manifests in subtle ways, like when people report being more likely than average to experience common events (living past 50) but less likely to experience rare events (living past 100)-a logical impossibility revealing our self-centered perspective.
Being at the center of our own universe leads us to overestimate our importance in it. A classic study with married couples revealed both spouses consistently overclaimed responsibility for household activities-both positive and negative. When researchers added the percentage each spouse claimed responsibility for, the total significantly exceeded 100% for activities like cleaning the house or making breakfast. Interestingly, this "overclaiming" extended even to negative activities like causing arguments.
Our egocentrism extends beyond overclaiming responsibility to overestimating how much others notice us. In the liberating "Barry Manilow experiment," participants forced to wear embarrassing t-shirts estimated nearly 50% of people would notice, when only 23% actually did. This self-centered thinking can lead to moments of paranoia, like feeling mortified after slipping on ice or saying something awkward in a meeting. We consistently overestimate our social visibility, acting as if we're center stage when most others barely register our presence.
Beyond overestimating how much others notice us, we consistently overestimate how harshly they judge us. In numerous experiments where participants endured embarrassing moments-from answering impossible trivia questions to dancing in front of strangers-people consistently overestimated how negatively others evaluated them. This explains why public speaking tops most people's fear lists.
Even when two people observe the same event, they interpret it differently through their unique lenses of knowledge and experience. When baseball player Barry Bonds hit his record-setting home run, two men who caught it submitted the same video as evidence for completely opposite ownership claims, each certain the judge would agree with his interpretation.
We consistently project our own perspective onto others, assuming they think like us. Parents often report the world becoming more dangerous around the time their first child was born, though statistically it's become safer-the lens through which they view reality changed, not reality itself. Research consistently shows people overestimate how much others share their opinions. In one demonstration with MBA students evaluating questionable business practices, even those in the moral minority believed they represented the majority view.
Knowledge creates a "curse" that blinds us to others' perspectives. Just as expert readers miss the "f" in "of" when counting letters (hearing a "v" sound instead), expertise narrows our focus in ways that make it difficult to understand novices. Clorox scientists spent ten years trying to perfect shelf-stable Hidden Valley Ranch dressing, comparing each version to the original recipe they knew well. When they finally gave up and tested their "inferior" version with consumers who had never tasted the original, people loved it.
We project our own minds onto others most when we know little about them. The less we know about another's mind, the more we use our own to fill in the blanks. This explains why communication through text-based mediums like email and Twitter leads to misunderstandings-senders know what they mean and assume receivers will understand, while receivers confidently misinterpret messages.
第 7 章
Stereotypes: Mental Shortcuts with Mixed Results
We form opinions about groups we've never directly encountered by piecing together information from others and our imagination. When tested, stereotypes often contain kernels of truth-such as correctly predicting that liberals favor wealth equality more than conservatives do-but dramatically overestimate the magnitude of these differences. In one survey, Americans correctly identified that Democratic voters prefer more equitable wealth distribution than Republican voters, but estimated a 35% difference when the actual gap was only 3.5%. Similarly, they predicted a 40% gap between rich and poor preferences when the actual difference was just 3%, and a 12% gender gap when reality showed only 2%.
Our brains excel at extracting statistical averages from groups. In visual experiments, when shown a test circle that matches the average size of a previously viewed set (though not actually in the set), people consistently misremember it as having been part of the group. This reveals our brain's remarkable ability to automatically calculate statistical averages from groups in less than half a second. While individuals within groups become nearly invisible to us, our brains extract the "gist"-the average-which is an adaptive skill for navigating both physical and social environments.
While our brains excel at extracting averages under ideal circumstances, real-world conditions fall short of these ideal parameters. Unlike controlled experiments where all members are visible and honest, real groups have missing members, distorted appearances, and invisible features we must judge. Research on stereotype accuracy shows a mixed picture-stereotypes like those about gender differences contain both accuracy (correlations of .50-.58 in predicting attitudes) and error (like women overestimating men's sexism).
Our stereotypes often fail because we operate in what Robin Hogarth calls a "wicked environment" that provides imperfect data. Like the Literary Digest's famously wrong 1936 election prediction, we sample incomplete information-seeing only small slices of groups, hearing selected evidence, and learning secondhand information. Stereotypes are more accurate when based on direct experience, knowledge of majority groups, and visible behaviors rather than invisible mental states.
We naturally pay more attention to differences than similarities. Just as our eyes detect changes through tiny movements called "saccades" (without which we would see nothing), our social perception focuses on what distinguishes groups from each other. We define ourselves not by attributes shared with everyone, but by what makes us unique. This hypersensitivity to difference affects how we perceive groups-they emerge precisely when we detect differences between them.
When groups are defined by their differences, borderline cases get squished to fit definitions, exaggerating differences when reality is unclear. This is especially problematic with gender stereotypes, where psychological differences are dramatically exaggerated despite research showing overwhelming similarities. Studies show men and women differ far less than stereotypes suggest-men think about sex only once every thirty minutes, not "every seven seconds," and the "essential difference" in empathy has an effect size of only .2, while people estimate it at .7.
The fundamental problem lies in explanation-our brains calculate averages and detect differences instantly but struggle to explain why those differences exist. Stereotypes routinely move beyond observation into explanation, attributing group differences to essential, internal qualities rather than external factors like social norms. We assume Blacks achieve less because of genetics, men are unfeeling due to testosterone, or women struggle with math due to biological factors-simple explanations for a complex world. But these explanations are often profoundly wrong, as stereotypes can be self-fulfilling prophecies.
第 8 章
Actions and Minds: The Correspondence Bias
When we observe others' behavior, we often believe we're looking through a clear window into their minds, when we're actually viewing a distorted mirror. The chapter opens with Walter Vance's tragic death in a Target store, where shoppers seemingly ignored his collapsed body. A friend attributed this behavior to callous greed, illustrating our tendency to believe actions directly reflect minds-what psychologists call the "correspondence bias."
Just as our ancestors believed the Earth was flat because that's how it appeared from their limited perspective, we make similar errors judging minds from behavior alone. We focus narrowly on people rather than the broader contexts influencing their actions. When Olympic athletes win gold, we see individual talent and determination while missing thousands of practice hours, parental support, coaching, and fortunate circumstances. Similarly, we attribute company success to CEO brilliance while overlooking economic conditions and organizational structures.
The "Quiz Bowl" experiment demonstrates this bias perfectly-audience members judge questioners as brilliant and contestants as dim, failing to recognize the massive role-conferred advantage given to questioners who can choose questions from their areas of expertise while contestants must answer whatever comes.
Avoiding the correspondence bias requires seeing the broader context behind actions. After Lance Armstrong's first Tour de France win following cancer, a reporter asked if his victory proved that determination could overcome anything. Armstrong rejected this simplistic view, noting he'd seen many people fight harder against cancer yet still die-his survival depended on science, money, and luck, not just willpower.
Our tendency to infer minds from actions starts early-by age one, infants associate actions with intentions, and by age three, children attribute purpose even to inanimate objects like pointy rocks. Though this bias diminishes around age nine as children learn to think more carefully, the instinct persists into adulthood. This explains why we're influenced by coerced confessions despite knowing they were forced, why insincere flattery works, and why actors like Leonard Nimoy are treated as their characters (prompting his autobiography "I Am Not Spock").
Misunderstanding the power of context leads to ineffective solutions for important problems. When we assume people do what they want rather than what circumstances allow, we create flawed interventions. For example, using smaller plates reduces food consumption more effectively than education campaigns, as people tend to eat whatever portion is served regardless of hunger. Dinner plates in the United States have grown 40% larger over the last century, leading people to take more food.
Contrary to common sense, more bystanders in an emergency actually decreases the likelihood of receiving help. This paradox requires understanding two contextual factors: limited attention (emergencies can be missed in busy environments) and ambiguity interpretation (people look to others for cues about whether a situation requires intervention). When everyone looks to others who appear unconcerned, no one acts, even if individually concerned.
The nurses who helped Walter Vance weren't necessarily more virtuous than other shoppers-they simply recognized the emergency through professional training and knew what to do. This reveals that heroism, like evil, can be banal. The capacity to be a Good Samaritan exists in all of us under the right circumstances, not just in inherently altruistic people.
第 9 章
Becoming a Better Mind Reader
While many assume mind reading requires either mastering body language or perspective taking, the evidence suggests a third approach. Despite widespread belief that bodies reveal our true emotions through "tells," research shows body language communicates far less than we think. Darwin's more sophisticated "inhibition hypothesis" suggested that true emotions leak out in quick expressions before being masked, leading to the concept of "microexpressions"-fleeting emotional displays lasting less than one-fifth of a second.
While intuitively appealing and popularized by TV shows like "Lie to Me" and even adopted by the TSA's SPOT program, scientific evidence for microexpressions is weak. When researchers actively look for these clues, they're exceptionally rare (only 2% of expressions in one study) and just as likely to appear during truthful statements as during deception. Most people are better liars than they think, and our emotions leak out far less than we imagine.
Dale Carnegie's famous principle to "try honestly to see things from the other person's point of view" sounds intuitively valuable. This imagination allows us to tailor our responses to others' needs-like giving gentler feedback to a child learning to write than to a colleague. Perspective taking combines egocentrism and stereotyping, using our own brain to simulate being someone else.
The benefit is clear: we maximize use of what we know about another person. However, the fatal flaw is that it relies on our ability to imagine others' perspectives accurately. If we don't truly understand what it's like to be poor, depressed, or in another's situation, mental gymnastics won't help-and may actually decrease accuracy.
In multiple experiments, perspective taking consistently reduced accuracy in reading emotions and intentions. Worse, in conflict situations where opposing sides have inaccurate views of each other, perspective taking magnifies these errors. In a negotiation experiment about overfishing, perspective taking exaggerated perceived differences between groups, increased distrust, and enhanced selfishness. Even with married couples, perspective taking didn't improve their ability to predict each other's attitudes.
Rather than trying to take someone's perspective by imagining it, we should try to get their perspective directly. The author illustrates this with his failed Christmas gift for his wife-a day as an animal handler at the Shedd Aquarium. Despite carefully considering her love of dolphins, he missed how her circumstances as a new mother made this inappropriate.
The science on gift-giving is clear: don't guess what someone wants; ask them directly or listen to their hints. This principle applies broadly. When the U.S. government considered repealing "don't ask, don't tell," 1,167 retired military officers opposed it based on their perspective-taking abilities. Meanwhile, the Pentagon actually surveyed 115,000+ active soldiers and found 70% believed repeal would have neutral or positive effects. A year after repeal, studies confirmed it was a "non-event"-getting perspective directly proved far more accurate than imagining it.
Despite the clear superiority of getting perspective directly, implementation remains challenging. The primary barrier is that people sometimes lie, mislead or avoid revealing truth. However, the author cautions against excessive cynicism. Studies show the average person reports telling only 1-2 lies daily, with most lies coming from a small percentage of chronic liars. In one study of 1,000 Americans, 60% reported telling no intentional lies in a 24-hour period, while nearly half of all reported lies came from just 5% of respondents.
Opening up has both personal and public benefits. Studies show emotionally expressive college students develop stronger social support networks and experience greater satisfaction than guarded peers. Those who share their thoughts more openly are better understood and generally happier with their lives.
第 10 章
The Red Phone: Direct Communication Saves Lives
The world nearly ended in October 1962 because of mind misunderstandings. As the Cuban Missile Crisis brought the US and Soviet Union to the brink of nuclear war, both sides were fighting against imagined enemies rather than real ones. Only through direct, private communication between Kennedy and Khrushchev-where each could express his mind directly to the other-was catastrophe averted. This crisis taught us the same lesson social science reveals: we all need a "red phone" for direct communication.
Our ability to reason about others' minds is our brain's greatest power, enabling social coordination between disconnected brains. But this sixth sense's imperfections cause our greatest pains: broken relationships, failed organizations, and needless conflicts. Our mistakes in understanding others all share one outcome: underestimating the complexity and richness of their minds. We reduce others to simplified versions-seeing them as like us, like their group stereotypes, or like their actions suggest.
Understanding these shortcomings should push us toward greater openness in sharing our own thoughts and listening to others. When Kennedy received Khrushchev's perspective directly through carefully crafted exchanges, he discovered a surprisingly similar adversary facing parallel challenges from hardliners in his own government. Even Michael Rubens, a former Daily Show producer who set up interviews to mock people with "blecchy" views, found these presumed crackpots were "remarkably human" when met in person.
Only by recognizing our brain's limitations can we develop the humility to understand others as they actually are rather than as we imagine them to be.
