In a previous post, I put forward the notion of a “belief ecosystem,” intended to capture the idea that we live our lives in and through a variety of beliefs, both our own and those of others with whom we interact. Reflecting on this ecosystem, we realize that there are beliefs that harmonize with each other, and beliefs that don’t. Let’s think about how to navigate that often confusing beliefscape.

First, however, you might be thinking, Who could hold inconsistent beliefs? We just believe what we believe, right? The second part of this sentiment is surely accurate: We do tend to “believe what we believe,” but this suggests that we don’t always reflect on our beliefs. This might be a cue to talk about how to reflect on our beliefs and ask important questions, like whether they are grounded. But today we’re focusing on finding our way around the beliefscape, so let’s start with an example.

Consider this plausible-looking belief: Governments should stay out of our private lives. I don’t introduce this to make a political point. In fact, if there’s any political point I’d like to make, it’s that nature gave you a right hand and a left hand, and, contrary to current political “wisdom,” most of your life will be better when they work together. Now, let’s reflect on this belief and ask, Is this belief consistent with the belief that gay marriage should be against the law? Again, if this triggers you, recall to mind our challenge about moderation, and muster up some of that good old humility and empathy.

On the surface, staying out of private life’s seems to endorse people making individual decisions about whom to marry. And equally, on the surface, the belief that some marriages should not be legal seems to endorse government intrusion into private life. Of course, people can hold both these views reflectively— if they’ve done the homework on how these two seemingly inconsistent beliefs actually can fit together. That’s the province of nuance, and, being the primates we are, we tend to run away from that province to the perceived safety of our own convictions.

To be fair, most of us don’t schedule a regular deliberation retreat so we can reflect on the consistency of our beliefs. So, how do these inconsistencies come into view?

Typically, inconsistencies and incoherence among our beliefs manifest as what we might call “deliberative conflict.” We encounter a situation in which our decision-making is pushed in different directions by different beliefs. We often calm such deliberative conflict — superficially, at least — by the equivalent of flipping a belief-coin: Well, this time I’ll just go with this belief. Another conflict reduction tactic is to go with the belief we hold with the most conviction. The problem with these approaches is that they treat the symptoms of deliberative conflict but not the underlying “dis-ease.”

If we want to get at the roots of conflict, we have to address the challenges of inconsistency and incoherence in our beliefscape, and that requires the excellences of deliberative moderation. This is a good moment to reflect on the meaning of the term. We use the word “moderation” to mean “not too much” — like moderate exercise, or moderate alcohol-intake. That usage suggests that moderate is a thing — a fixed point on a scale. But as an excellence of mind, “moderate” is a verb, as in, “moderate a debate.” (This is why, incidentally, the made-up word excellencify is irresistable in living our virtue.)

Moderating among beliefs requires us to be belief-referees, and, as is the case with any refereeing, that function requires rules and evidence to ground the “calls” we make. The rules are, in a nutshell, what we know about reliable thinking, which Aristotle would have called “logic.” The evidence is the material that both supports the belief and to which that belief applies when we act on it. Deliberating according to reliable thought and with appropriate material is much more challenging than it seems, but the result is not just grounded belief; the result is a more harmonious beliefscape.

Aristotle reminds us that we are not divine minds, and one implication of being a rational animal rather than a divine mind is that our beliefscape can never be perfectly harmonious. Among other things, as we grow older, we adopt different perspectives on the world and our fellow rational animals, so our beliefscape was never fixed and static to begin with. Think of the beliefscape as an expansive garden that requires deliberate care and ongoing maintenance.

And, occasionally, crop rotation.

Knowing what you believe and grounding your beliefs are important features of well-tended beliefscape. Take a little time to reflect, and if you find pests, wilting, invasive species, or other forms of deliberative conflict, try a little moderation.

And remember: Philosophy can help. Let’s talk.