Salience and the Miles That Count

9–13 minutes

Salience, attention, valence and the construction of disposition

Today I live about 90 minutes out of Boston by car on a good day – and 2 hours on a return trip because I live in Cape Cod, a tourist area, so I tend to have to compete with traffic. Today, it took over 2 and a half hours, a Friday afternoon, trapped among boat and beach seekers. I don’t drive, so I require chauffeurs to get me here and there. Today I driving with a bloke for whom traffic possesses unusual psychological gravity. He seems to have traffic and weather on the brain – and don’t get me started on crime, national security, and petrol prices.

Audio: NotebookLM summary podcast of this topic.

I’ll spare the reader the trip up, which was fairly easy, despite traffic-related side comments whenever inappropriate. On the way back and at the first patch of congestion, he harrumphed and announced that we would certainly be stuck in traffic for the entire journey. I checked the Google Maps. Traffic was intermittent, and I told him so.

Soon afterwards, the road cleared. We travelled freely for miles – no traffic to report – but when we later encountered another queue, however, he declared that his prediction had been vindicated. On arrival, he told others that we had been stuck in traffic ‘the whole way’.

Two people; the same reality; different experiences. I got me thinking – and chatting with ChatGPT because the driver was focused on driving – and of course the misery of traffic.

Here’s the rest of the story: The traffic didn’t occupy the whole journey. To him, it occupied the portions of the journey that counted. The clear road was perceptually available but apparently lacked evidential weight. It was experienced without being recruited into the eventual account.

Noticing the divergence between out perceptions, I tried to reconcile. First, I considered filing this under selective attention and confirmation bias, that great psychological lost-property office into which every untidy inference is now deposited, but this doesn’t feel quite right; it doesn’t seem to capture the essence.

Before a belief can be confirmed by evidence, something must first become evidence, right? So, the more interesting question isn’t merely why this geezer interpreted the journey pessimistically, but why congestion became salient whilst free movement receded into the background. What determines which parts of experience become psychologically substantial?

Here’s how I see it:

I tried to view this through lenses of salience, attention and valence. First, a quick refresher:

Salience concerns what stands out, demands processing or acquires significance.

Attention concerns the allocation and maintenance of cognitive resources.

Valence concerns the positive or negative affective character assigned to something.

Traffic may be salient because it frustrates an aim. Its negative valence may help capture attention. Sustained attention may then produce richer encoding, making the traffic easier to recall. Later recollection may strengthen the prior belief that journeys are usually obstructed, which may increase vigilance for traffic during the next journey. No single element need rule the others.

The relation is recursive:

  • disposition shapes salience
  • salience directs attention
  • attention affects encoding
  • valence influences interpretation
  • memory reconstructs the event
  • reconstruction reinforces disposition

And even this is too linear, but here we are. Attention can alter valence. Bodily arousal can alter salience. Memory can modify present interpretation. Expectations can affect what is noticed before conscious appraisal has properly begun. The arrows run in both directions, and probably sideways as well.

The result isn’t simply a biased opinion about a neutral world. It’s a patterned encounter wherein some features arrive already amplified and others scarcely become legible.

Pessimism: Disposition as an epistemic filter

This got my pondering mental health issue. I’m not a psychologist, and I discount the discipline quite heavily, but I wanted to consider the notion of disposition. How can two people quite literally in the same vehicle on the same journey view the world so differently. Of course, we are all carved by our experiences, but this is a reciprocating function: the more we experience the world positively or negatively, the more the world will reveal itself as such. Confirmation bias drives the nails into the coffin.

Let’s look at the down side: pessimism. I don’t mean some clinical depression, but instead of seeing the world with no glasses, and rose-coloured spectacle, the world is view with dark glasses – I’m envisioning a welder’s visor. One could stare at the sun and proclaim it’s overcast. Eyeore on steroids.

A pessimistic disposition might usually described as a tendency to expect bad outcomes. And whilst this may be true, it’s incomplete. Pessimism may also affect what is noticed, how long attention remains with it, how it is interpreted, and what survives into later recall. This is my thesis – or at least my point. The unpleasant becomes an event. The satisfactory becomes the absence of an event.

Congestion is noticed; free movement is merely used. An insult is retained; an ordinary kindness passes as social administration. A failure requires explanation; success is dismissed as luck, temporary relief or an exception that proves nothing.

This asymmetry can make a disposition appear empirically vindicated. The pessimist remembers abundant evidence for pessimism because pessimistically congruent events were more likely to become salient, receive attention and survive reconstruction. The conclusion is then presented as realism:

  • I don’t expect things to go badly because I am pessimistic.
  • I am pessimistic because experience shows that things go badly.

Yet ‘experience‘ here isn’t an untouched archive. It’s already been selected, weighted and narrated.

Research on depression is compatible with this more interactive account. Depression and vulnerability to depression have been associated not only with increased processing of negative material but also with diminished positive biases across attention, interpretation, memory and self-referential thought. The pattern is therefore not merely an excess of negativity. It may also involve a failure of positive information to acquire or retain ordinary psychological weight.

A negatively valenced event may dominate because it attracts unusually strong attention. But an apparently negative world might also arise because positive events are weakly encoded, rapidly discounted or treated as anomalous. The same remembered landscape could therefore emerge through different cognitive routes.

Before I continue, a disclaimer: I am not trying to claim that my perception is correct and his isn’t. I’m merely asking how we end up with distinct narratives. It reminds me of the beginning of Woody Allen’s Annie Hall, where a couple are speaking to counsellors. A therapist asks about their love life:

Alvy Singer (him) and Annie Hall (her) are seeing their therapists at the same time on a split screen

Alvy’s Therapist: How often do you sleep together?

Annie’s Therapist: Do you have sex often?

Alvy: [lamenting] Hardly ever. Maybe three times a week.

Annie: [annoyed] Constantly. I’d say three times a week.

The interesting think here, is that both are disappointed for the same event one because sex is over-indexed and the other because it is under-indexed.

Moving on…

Anxiety and the world as warning

Anxiety offers a related configuration. Threatening material tends to capture attention more strongly in anxious populations, although effect sizes, experimental measures and the direction of attention over time are not perfectly uniform. Some people may orient rapidly towards threat; others may struggle to disengage; still others may shift from vigilance to avoidance. The bureaucracy of diagnosis naturally prefers a single box, whilst cognition persists in behaving like a process.

Interpretation and memory may then participate in the same system. An ambiguous expression becomes disapproval. A delayed reply becomes rejection. A bodily sensation becomes evidence of illness. Each interpretation increases anxiety; increased anxiety makes threat more salient; heightened salience provides further material for threatening interpretation.

Research on anxiety increasingly examines these as interacting biases rather than sealed mechanisms. Attention, interpretation and memory can be associated with one another, though the evidence does not support a single simple causal sequence in every case.

The important point is not that the danger is imaginary. Sometimes the road really is congested. Sometimes the delayed reply does indicate trouble. Sometimes the body is ill. The question is how individual events acquire representative force and how readily contrary events are permitted to revise the emerging model.

When significance itself becomes unstable

In some accounts of psychosis, salience plays a still more direct role. The aberrant-salience hypothesis proposes that neutral or incidental stimuli may acquire excessive significance, leaving the person to explain why ordinary events feel unusually charged. A glance, coincidence, headline or passing remark may become loaded with personal meaning.

This is not a complete theory of psychosis, nor should it be paraded as one. Predictive-processing accounts differ over whether particular symptoms arise from weakened prior expectations, excessively rigid priors, altered prediction-error signalling, or different disturbances at different levels of processing. Hallucinations and delusions may not share one uniform mechanism merely because diagnostic manuals house them in neighbouring rooms.

Still, the idea illustrates the broader point. Salience does not merely determine which established facts receive attention. It participates in determining what feels fact-like, connected or worthy of explanation.

Once significance has been assigned, interpretation begins its work. Once interpreted, the event may be more readily remembered. Once remembered, it joins the accumulating case for the interpretation that helped produce it.

Not merely ‘in the head’

None of this means that dispositions are autonomous cognitive errors floating above the world, and I reiterate that I am not a medical professional. Hell, I’m barely a professional. Salience is affected by history. Someone who has repeatedly encountered danger may reasonably become more attentive to possible danger. Poverty, discrimination, violence, illness and insecurity do not merely supply ‘negative thoughts’; they alter the statistical environment in which attention and expectation develop. What appears clinically as excessive vigilance may have been learned under conditions in which vigilance was adaptive.

Nor is salience purely conceptual. Sleep, stress, hormones, medication, pain and physiological arousal may all affect what attracts attention and what is retained. Experimental research indicates that arousal and valence can make distinct contributions to emotional memory, another reason not to compress the process into the nursery vocabulary of ‘positive’ and ‘negative thinking’. The world acts upon the disposition, and the disposition acts upon the encountered world. Neither term stands outside the relation.

This also guards against the moral obscenity of telling distressed people that they have simply chosen the wrong interpretation. A recursive process may be self-maintaining without being voluntary. One doesn’t escape it merely by deciding to notice flowers, practise gratitude and purchase a notebook with an inspirational slogan embossed upon it. Sorry, pop psychology and psychological self help industry

From bias to rigidity

Everyone relies upon selective attention. Everyone remembers unevenly. Everyone encounters a world already organised by concern, expectation and affect. Complete neutrality would not be enlightenment; it would be cognitive paralysis.

The relevant distinction may therefore not be between biased and unbiased minds. It may be between systems that remain revisable and systems that become rigidly self-confirming.

A disposition becomes pathological, perhaps, not merely when it selects, but when selection becomes pervasive; not merely when it assigns valence, but when valence governs what can count as evidence; not merely when memory reconstructs, but when reconstruction repeatedly erases whatever might disturb the governing account.

Even then, ‘pathology’ isn’t a property of one mechanism. It may emerge from the interaction of degree, duration, distress, social conditions, bodily states, functional consequences and the available means of correction. The traffic anecdote isn’t a diagnosis. It’s an anecdote, a small model of how a world can be cognitively weighted.

The bloke didn’t invent the congestion. He encountered real traffic. But the congestion became representative, whilst the open road became incidental. Later, memory converted this inequality of weight into an equality of duration: traffic here and there became traffic everywhere.

Perhaps certain dispositions operate similarly. They do not simply add a judgement to experience after the fact. They influence which experiences become prominent, which are sustained by attention, which acquire positive or negative force, and which are later recruited into the story of what the world is like. The question is therefore not merely whether a person sees reality accurately. It is which parts of reality become visible enough to count.

A final word

My ex-wife used to complain how we never did anything – and like the Annie Hall story, I’d say we did too much – so every week or two she’d want to do something, and her refrain was always, ‘Let’s do it. We never do anything.’ One can imagine, that this was not a sustainable model – perhaps as evidenced by the ex prefix. And so not to and this as a therapy session, I’ll leave it here.

Rational Ghosts: Why Enlightenment Democracy Was Built to Fail

3–4 minutes

We are governed by phantoms. Not the fun kind that rattle chains in castles, but Enlightenment rational ghosts – imaginary citizens who were supposed to be dispassionate, consistent, and perfectly informed. They never lived, but they still haunt our constitutions and television pundits. Every time some talking head declares “the people have spoken”, what they really mean is that the ghosts are back on stage.

👉 Full essay: Rational Ghosts: Why Enlightenment Democracy Was Built to Fail

The conceit was simple: build politics as if it were an engineering problem. Set the rules right, and stability follows. The trouble is that the material – actual people – wasn’t blueprint-friendly. Madison admitted faction was “sown in the nature of man”, Rousseau agonised over the “general will”, and Condorcet managed to trip over his own math. They saw the cracks even while laying the foundation. Then they shrugged and built anyway.

Audio: NotebookLM podcast on this topic.

The rational ghosts were tidy. Real humans are not. Our brains run on shortcuts: motivated reasoning, availability cascades, confirmation bias, Dunning–Kruger. We don’t deliberate; we improvise excuses. Education doesn’t fix it – it just arms us with better rationalisations. Media doesn’t fix it either – it corrals our biases into profitable outrage. The Enlightenment drafted for angels; what it got was apes with smartphones.

Even if the ghosts had shown up, the math betrayed them. Arrow proved that no voting system can translate preferences without distortion. McKelvey showed that whoever controls the sequence of votes controls the outcome. The “will of the people” is less an oracle than a Ouija board, and you can always see whose hand is pushing the planchette.

Scale finishes the job. Dunbar gave us 150 people as the human limit of meaningful community. Beyond that, trust decays into myth. Benedict Anderson called nations “imagined communities”, but social media has shattered the illusion. The national conversation is now a million algorithmic Dunbars, each convinced they alone are the real people.

Audio: This is a longer (40-minute) NotebookLM podcast on the essay itself.

Why did democracy limp along for two centuries if it was this haunted? Because it was on life-support. Growth, war, and civic myth covered the cracks. External enemies, national rituals, and propaganda made dysfunction look like consensus. It wasn’t design; it was borrowed capital. That capital has run out.

Cue the panic. The defences roll in: Churchill said democracy was the “least bad” system (he didn’t, but whatever). Voters self-correct. Education will fix it. It’s only an American problem. And if you don’t like it, what – authoritarianism? These are less arguments than incantations, muttered to keep the ghosts from noticing the creaks in the floorboards.

The real task isn’t to chant louder. It’s to stop pretending ghosts exist. Try subsidiarity: smaller-scale politics humans can actually grasp. Try deliberation: citizens’ assemblies show ordinary people can think, when not reduced to a soundbite. Try sortition: if elections are distorted by design, maybe roll the dice instead. Try polycentric governance: let overlapping authorities handle mismatch instead of hammering “one will”. None of these are perfect. They’re just less haunted.

Enlightenment democracy was built to fail because it was built for rational ghosts. The ghosts never lived. The floorboards are creaking. The task is ours: build institutions for the living, before the house collapses under its own myths.

The Argument in Skeleton Form

Beneath the prose, the critique of Enlightenment democracy can be expressed as a syllogism:
a foundation that assumed rational citizens collides with psychological bias, mathematical impossibility, and sociological limits.
The outcome is a double failure – corrupted inputs and incoherent outputs – masked only by temporary props.

Figure: Logical skeleton of “Rational Ghosts: Why Enlightenment Democracy Was Built to Fail.” For the complete essay, with sources and elaboration, see the open-access preprint on Zenodo: https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.17250225

Capitalising on Prostitution

DISCLAIMER: This post is a veritable rant. It promises to go off script or at least be oblique to the recent themes I’ve adopted. It is also a bit late, missing the heels of the FOSTA debacle in the United States

Prostitution is immoral. It exploits women. It exists in a world of violence. It objectifies and creates a rape culture. It is a vector for transmission of diseases. These are the main arguments against it, yet many of these are arguments against Capitalism itself.

In fact, most arguments of prostitution are criticisms of capitalism or conflated claims to some tangential activity. The most popular conflation is with sex trafficking,  ‘modern-day slavery and involves the use of force, fraud, or coercion to obtain some type of labor or commercial sex act‘.

Prostitution is a category of sex work, which includes dominatrixes in the BDSM space, porn actors (and actresses if you expect archaic sexist jargon), phone sex operators, cam models. Nude modelling is somehow tasteful and not readily included in the collection.

actress

The World Health Organisation (WHO) defines sex workers [PDF] as ‘women, men and transgendered people who receive money or goods in exchange for sexual services, and who consciously define those activities as income-generating even if they do not consider sex work as their occupation‘. I won’t comment on why they feel the final dependent clause is relevant to the definition. Perhaps it’s in the realm of the aspiring actors or screenwriters who wait tables but don’t consider themselves to be waitstaff.

Returning to the main arguments in turn:

Prostitution is immoral. As a subjectivist, this is a difficult argument to win. Although morality is a human social construct, many people believe otherwise, and even those who don’t ascribe to the notion of an objective morality still adopt and abide by the fabricated moral codes generated by the worldview of, say, Christians or Muslims or some other sect who claim to have direct insight into such codes.

Nothing is immoral that society doesn’t declare to be immoral.

Nothing is immoral that society doesn’t declare to be immoral. In the United States, the institution of slavery—what I call hyper-capitalism or a capitalist’s wet dream—was deemed moral by most. Eventually, the morality was hotly debated, and now, it is considered to be immoral. Time changes everything. In some circles, slavery is still considered to be moral. In other circles, it has morphed into wage-slavery and because money is exchanged within a frame of a labour market, it escapes the definition.

Excepting for local norms, prostitution is not inherently more immoral than banking or retail sales.

Prostitution exploits women. Excepting that there are male prostitutes and sex workers, it is commonly believed that these people are (somehow) less likely to be exploited, so I’ll keep this focused on women. First, it is important to separate prostitution from human sex trafficking. This is not the topic, and it’s a problem with specificity. If you feel that sex trafficking is immoral and should be illegal, that’s fine; but don’t throw out the baby with the bath water. Focus on the actual problem. <sarcasm>If you want to prevent all women from being exploited, lock them all up in monasteries. Problem solved. </sarcasm>

Prostitution is not inherently more immoral than banking

If one wants to discuss exploitation, let’s discuss a system designed such that a person needs to earn money to survive. Period. Full stop. If you buy into the capitalist worldview, then, that in order to survive a person chooses to be a marketing executive, a customer service representative, a janitor, or a prostitute, is none of your concern.

I have heard many arguments put forth that these women should get ‘real jobs’, jobs that pay minimum wage (or less) and have no other benefits, jobs where it would take a week or more to earn what they could in a day or less. That’s not even rational.

Prostitution exists in a world of violence. Despite trends, the world is still a violent place. Part of the higher probability of violence in the realm of prostitution exists because these women are marginalised by moralists. Even where prostitution is legal, it is still often viewed as immoral. They have little recourse to the legal system. They can’t organise. They are forced underground. Sunlight is the best disinfectant. Don’t force these women into alleys and underground.

In the US, recent FOSTA and SESTA hysteria have disarmed women from the tools they used to navigate their environment. They could share intelligence related to which men to avoid for one reason or another. Other tools have cropped up to facilitate this cooperation, but these tools benefit from network effects. The more people having access to the information clearinghouse, the better.

Prostitution objectifies women. I’ll concede this point straight away but not without noting that many things objectify women: the beauty industry, the entertainment industry, the marketing industry in general. If as a society we can resolve objectification and prostitution is the last holdout, I’m onboard, right there with you. But there is no need to make prostitution the poster child for eliminating objectification.

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Prostitution creates a rape culture. To be fair, I have no metrics on this, and I am going to pass, but not without saying that it seems to be an implausible claim. And I have read counterclaims anyway.

Prostitution is a vector for the transmission of diseases. Indeed. And driving is a vector for traffic accidents. Of course, given higher frequencies of an activity, one would expect a greater number of outcomes—even with the same probability, the additional exposure may result in hitting this undesirable lottery. And the variety of partners with unknown sexual histories is problematic.

However, a mitigating factor is education—and not simply moralistic lip service. Women need to understand the risks and understand how to diminish it. Yet again, being marginalised does not necessarily allow a woman to be empowered. A client can insist on unprotected sex. If he forces his hand, no one is going to believe that a prostitute can be raped. As with sex trafficking, rape is its own subject and is only part of a larger conversation.


I was winding down, but I found a related quote I wanted to address:

Geena Leigh was in prostitution for 19 years from the age of 18. In her submission to an Australian inquiry into the regulation of brothels, she said prostitution: “has this way of stealing all the dreams, goals and beautiful essence out of a woman. During my years in it, I didn’t meet one woman who enjoyed what she was doing. Everyone was trying to get out.”

Evidently, lack of enjoyment in one’s employment is not limited to prostitutes. The is the problem with fundamental attribution bias. A recent Gallup poll cited that 85% of people hate their jobs. Maybe Gallup only interviewed prostitutes, or perhaps the 15% who liked their jobs were the only ones who weren’t sex workers.


 

Well, there went my morning…

For those wondering (and who’ve gotten this far), the impetus for this post was some other blog posts I happened upon in WordPress’ Reader.