Cynicism Isn't Smart

We all know *that* person. The one who thinks the world is out to get them – to get all of us. And if you don’t see things the same way, you’re naive.

I know this well because, frankly, it used to describe me. 

It’s easy to consider unending pessimism as a sign of intelligence. It suggests some kind of higher plane of performance where they can see the impending mistakes of life before you can. 

This leads to what’s been wonderfully described as the Cynical Genius Syndrome. Essentially, in general, we inherently consider cynics to be more intelligent. Data suggests otherwise. 

For example, over 200,000 people from 30 countries were observed, “revealing that cynical (vs. less cynical) individuals generally do worse on cognitive ability and academic competency tasks.” (Stavrova et al., 2018)

It’s important to draw a line between a cynic and a sceptic. We like the simplicity of the Associated Press description: “A sceptic is a doubter. A cynic is a disbeliever.”

To question legitimacy is performance. To assume pigheadedly that the world is out to get us at every turn is incompetent.

The literature is pretty one-sided on this topic: cynicism is linked with poor health and well-being, relationship quality and financial success (Chen et al., 2016; Haukkala, Konttinen, Laatikainen, Kawachi, & Uutela, 2010; Stavrova & Ehlebracht, 2016).

It’s just not a route to performance to consider yourself a cynic. Beyond that, it makes you the type of person people avoid. It’s killjoy behaviour.

The ‘Devil’s advocate’ argument can be constructive. Typically though, it permits individuals to be a jaded arsehole, as opposed to genuinely attempting to contribute to whatever task you’re trying to achieve.

We get the term devil’s advocate from 1500s Catholicism. In the 1500s, upon beatification (deciding if you’re saintworthy), individuals were summoned in a kind of court procedure to highlight negative traits that may exclude them from the honour.

Originally the idea was used to scrutinise people on the cusp of authoritarian elevation. Today, it’s an excuse for your mate to disparage your potential because they’d sooner be right than see you do well. It’s typically a sour line of thought and serves to underline a disappointingly common British sensibility of pessimism.

Whilst not always enacted with bitter motivation, the cynic’s usual justification for their dour expectations is that experience has made them that way. Whether this is true or not is irrelevant; anyone with a story to tell has something they could harness into some kind of origin story for an excuse to make them a cynic.

Ultimately, you’re not what happened to you. Do better. Be better.

This idea that life shapes us into disillusionment aligns wonderfully with the notion of the mean world syndrome. Coined by Professor Gerbner in the 1970s, it’s a cognitive bias whereby people perceive the world to be more dangerous than it is due to overconsumption of media.

This perspective is a virus ripping through society in the modern day, encouraged by algorithmically reinforced content that serves to suggest the world is constantly getting worse – that everything’s going to shit.

Much of this conversation has recently been brought to light by Jamil Zaki and his book Hope For Cynics. One brilliant example is the increased inclination to prevent kids from playing outside for fear of kidnapping and the like. Jamil cites the risk of a child being abducted and killed by an unknown person estimated at 0.00007% – whereas the odds of being struck by lightning are about 0.0065%. 

Statistically, Zeus is more likely to hurt your kid than a creepy man in a van.

This frustrating assumption of an increasingly dangerous world is being passed down through generations. One study highlighted that 53% of surveyed parents believe that teaching their children “negative primal world beliefs” like the world is a dangerous place will lead them to more fruitful outcomes in life (Clifton et al., 2021). Once again, data suggests it will not.

This is the world of Steven Pinker, keen to outlay the facts of the world generally getting safer and more positive. Though the real world on a macro scale is improving, our sources of information and context continuously reinforce the notion that we’re in more danger than ever before. As Pinker says, globally child mortality is down, extreme poverty is down, and serious violent crime is down, yet we never hear about this as news.

News outlets will not run the story “99.9% of towns and cities did not experience war today.” They talk about the exceptions where the shit hits the fan.

There’s so much discussion around how our diet impacts us – indeed, ZAAG understandably talks about the impact of nutrients on performance often. For obvious reasons. Don’t underplay the fact that our media diet influences us too. 

We know that sex sells. We also know, based on ever-evolving algorithms, that hate sells too. Perhaps with even more demand.

So… how does this play into performance? Well, today, our microscope is hovering over the performance of soul, outlook and sensibility. 

To believe that we’re in an ever-increasingly sour world only serves to sap us of our intrinsic ability to hope for better outcomes. Put the phone down and go outside. Real life doesn’t reflect what the black mirror may suggest.

Mean world syndrome triggers our fight or flight instincts. It floods our bodies with hormones as we watch videos and read stories about the statistically rare awful goings on in the world. It ensnares us in so called “cortisol loops,” which encourage us to expect danger everywhere as a defence mechanism.

It’s exhausting. It’s somewhat self-encouraged (by not changing our media habits). It’s cynical. It’s counterproductive. It engenders the opposite of performance.

Erring on the side of doubt at every possible opportunity is not an indicator of intelligence. If you suspect everyone of lying to you, you’re actually less effective at ascertaining who’s telling the truth than those who are generally more trusting (Carter et al., 2010). It follows Maslow’s Law of the Instrument principle. If all you have is a hammer, everything begins to look like a nail. 

So what is the solution? To be a “hopeful sceptic,” to quote the aforementioned Zaki. What if it all goes wrong is a valid question, but buttress it with its philosophical antonym: what if it all goes right? 

Autodidactism, or being self-taught, is on the rise. Wonderful, if you’re genuinely open to receiving information that conflicts with your view of the world. Remember though that not all sources are equal. Not all posts are true, no matter their number of followers. Not every shadow is a ghastly monster.

Cynicism is not conducive to strong social bonds, financial success, intelligence, improved wellbeing or life satisfaction. The world is only out to get you if you consider it so. Outlook impacts performance.

The glass can be both half full and half empty. But it’s you who’s pouring the water.