When
Sometimes we change our mind. Sometimes we judge others for doing something we believe they shouldn’t. But without answering one simple question, we simply show we haven’t thought it through

So, the US (together with Israel) has started attacking Iran. The president had earlier not only chastised several of his predecessors for starting wars for self-serving reasons, he had also asserted in no uncertain terms that with him, the country would not embark on military adventures in far flung countries. Yet here we are – the president changed his mind. At the same time, the operation is attracting a lot of criticism – all the way to the Pope. Some slate the vagueness of the stated motives, others call the action unjustified because it is against international law, or because negotiations were still ongoing and did not get a chance to come to a conclusion, or because there was no imminent threat. Some simply oppose military action unconditionally.
Yet the narratives on both sides of the controversy have a glaring hole. There may be good reasons for changing one’s mind – perhaps new information, or a change in circumstances – but here, none are provided. Similarly, arguing that the action is not justified without stating what conditions would justify it leaves a gap. Both sides seem strong on the rhetoric, but remarkably cagey on any underpinning. Isn’t that odd?
The power of when
A while ago I wrote about the When-decision, a tool that introduces conditions in our decisions spurring us on to taking action when they are met, prompting us to relinquish temporary decisions when they no longer apply, and saving us from arbitrary decisions. But this little adverb can do more work. Here, it can clarify our own thinking if we just ‘feel’ that a certain action is justified (or not). Answering the when question forces us to articulate which specific factors made us change our mind, or would make us support a decision we presently oppose. This positions it as a credibility test: more than just solidifying our logic, it reveals the priorities that make us reverse course. It pinpoints precisely what triggers a more significant value, and makes acceptable the violation of the lesser one that, until then, kept us at the status quo.

But is that hard work really necessary? Hugo Mercier and Dan Sperber argue that our reasoning skills evolved, not to provide logical consistency or to get close to the truth, but to convince – ourselves and others. Seeking to validate what we already believe is our default approach: we feel something is the case, or has to be done, and we look for signs that we are right. Rhetoric sounds authoritative, and is perfectly suited to provide such confirmation. Isn’t it easier to string together words that sound like reasons why what we believe must be done, than to look for flaws in that reasoning – and indeed less painful (we don’t want to prove ourselves wrong)?
Furthermore, rhetoric is often effective to mobilize those who are already siding with us. In a classic 1977 experiment, Ellen Langer found that people waiting to use a photocopier were much more likely to let someone cut in if their request used the word “because” – even if the reason given was completely circular (“because I need to make photocopies”). Any reason for kicking off operation Epic Fury, however superficial, from the US president is enough for enthusiastic supporters to rally behind the idea. On the other side, any reason for condemning it suffices to gain opponents’ and detractors’ approval.
When to make the effort
Yet, while life itself is fine tuned to make no more effort than necessary to meet its goals, taking the trouble to answer the when question can be beneficial. First, it disciplines our own thinking. Reasoning through the circumstances that lead us to change tack saves us from lazy post-hoc justification of an arbitrary, impulsive or self-serving decision that we might regret later. It stops us from believing our own rhetoric, and using that conviction as a proxy for an argument.

Second, being able to bolster our position with a coherent reasoning can make the difference between being dismissed as irrelevant and insignificant, and being taken seriously. Even if we have little hope of persuading our opponents, nobody enjoys being ridiculed and disrespected by them for lack of substance. If we hold off the bombastic verbiage and put forward a credible when narrative, whether it is explaining the conditions that have made us change our mind, or the conditions that would make us change our mind, we stand a better chance of gaining respect, even from those we are unlikely to convert.
If all we want to do is preach to the choir, if we are not interested in the impression we make on the other congregation, and if we are generally not concerned with having a sound basis for our view, then cranking up the rhetoric will do just fine. However, if we believe it is important to be credible, in our own eyes and in those of others – supporters or not – then “when” is our friend. Clearly stating the conditions that will trigger a change of heart, before we do so, and publicly: this is how we show we hold a genuine, considered opinion – and have made the effort to substantiate it.

