Cowen’s First Law states that:
There is something wrong with everything.
This simple idea is an epistemological superpower.
First, as Tyler Cowen wrote, if you don’t understand the weakness of an argument, you don’t fully understand it.
Second, Cowen’s First Law is a great test of intellectual honesty. Whether you’re reading an op-ed, a scientific paper, or a business proposal, ask yourself: “From 1 to 5, how open is the author about the weakest point in their argument?” If the answer is “not really,” that’s an epistemic red flag.
I’d like to think I’ve become better at this over time. For example, in our recent experimental study with Simin He, we were completely transparent:
These aren’t some fake limitations that scientists will sometimes slap onto their papers. These are real, concrete problems. After reading the list, you may even conclude that our experiment wasn’t that good.
That’s why people are generally not vocal about the flaws in their arguments. You won’t win a debate by saying “By the way, here are ten things why maybe I’m totally wrong.” If your goal is to persuade, you’d better present the best possible version of your story.
A commenter on Marginal Revolution asked what happens if we apply Cowen’s First Law to itself. If the Law is true (meaning there’s something wrong with everything), doesn’t that imply the Law is also... wrong?
I think there is something wrong with Cowen’s First Law. That “something wrong” is the failure to specify boundary conditions. Some arguments are 100% correct, end of story. If I say “All dogs are animals. This is a dog. Hence, it’s an animal,” the logic is bulletproof. Not super useful, but correct regardless.
In contrast, if you believe every argument is flawed, you become an epistemic nihilist. You lose hope in our ability to produce useful knowledge and understand how the world works. That’s a dangerous place to be. It’s the scary cavern of conspiracy theories, whataboutism, “all knowledge is socially constructed,” and other mind viruses.
So, I’d modify Cowen’s First Law to “There is something wrong with everything, except when there isn’t.” Longer but a bit more accurate—although, as per the Law, I may be wrong about the “more accurate” bit.
This brings to mind a quip my father liked: Moderation in everything including moderation.
One of the keys for me is looking how clearly the constituents of an argument can be defined or measured. For example, the location of a brick is is generally conceptually clear and can be measured to arbitrary accuracy. Something like the mental health of a population, on the other hand, is conceptually fraught and couldn't be measured accurately even if we knew what it was. Words can create an illusion of clarity.
The best appellate lawyers try to present the other side's arguments as fairly and well as possible before rebutting them, in order to win the attention and trust of the judges.