Surprises

Let’s look at how the election night “surprise” can relate to our reading experiences when something happens that doesn’t meet our expectations.

So, we’re reading this great little political thriller, and on election night the author presents a startling turn of events. Our reaction can end up anywhere on a spectrum from telling the closest wall that, “I knew that was going to happen,” to throwing the book (Kindle, Nook) against that very same wall (and probably wishing it were the author, not the book, that was being so punished.)

And then comes another surprise, not everyone reading the same book has the same reaction. What could cause such widely differing reactions from the same startling turn of events?

For me as a reader, the two most important aspects are (1) whether in retrospect I could have anticipated the event turn was possible, and (2) my unique biases. For most of us, our biases weigh much more heavily in the equation than do logic and anticipation. With a sufficiently large bias, we can ignore logic, history, rational expectations—pretty much everything—to justify our preconceived expectations. To maintain our equilibrium, we will ignore or significantly discount any information that contradicts our position.

I know this is true for me, and I am steeped in mathematics and understand syllogistic logic. Surprising? It shouldn’t. I’m human. None of us is Star Trek’s Spock.

Where would we start our novel of the 2016 presidential race? How about a prologue where the Clintons pop into Trump’s wedding (the most recent one in 2005)? Toss in a bit of foreshadowing, and you’ve set up the reader for the presidential race.

Now, as the story unfolds, I want authors to play fair with readers. If they withhold information solely to create their surprise, it doesn’t work for me. Nope, we need to lay it right out there, although we might do it using smoke and mirrors or at a minimum a bit of camouflage.

Just so you know, I’m upset, but not surprised, with the results of the 2016 election. Nate Silver of fivethirtyeight.com had the odds of Clinton winning at roughly two-to-one. That meant that one out of every three Wednesdays I would wake up to President-elect Trump. And, I did. Yes, it was against the odds, but it wasn’t a surprise. Since most people don’t really understand odds, an author can provide them en passant, and only fully explain their ramifications after the fact. So, let’s make sure our protagonist—Joe Schmo, we’ll call him—has the information and takes a 70 percent probability as close to a guarantee.

Add our hero’s set of biases to that misconception. Perhaps he grew up learning to respect strong women. Perhaps he believed strongly in the societal benefits of working together rather than that every person had to fend for himself. The more such a person held disparate views from Trump, the more such a person would decide other reasonable people would not vote for Trump. Such a bias was shared by most Democratic or liberal-leaning voters.

Consider a scene where two guys are discussing Trump’s “locker room talk” regarding women. One is appalled; the other thinks guys will be guys and it’s meaningless. One is convinced the polls are correct that Trump will lose great swaths of support because of his crude language and objectifying women—it’s just further proof of how unfit the guy is. The other says it’s nothing; sure, it was a mistake, but it’ll blow over once the biased media moves on to something else.

Overhearing that conversation might sow a tiny seed of doubt in our Joseph Schmo, but bias may prevent this from happening. The same liberal bias shades other facts, for example what might happen in Wisconsin. Liberal perspective is that Wisconsin’s a true-blue state; hasn’t voted Republican since forever (actually 1984, so not quite forever—but still, seven elections).

That Wisconsin went to Trump had been presaged both by Scott Walker’s elections as the governor of the state in 2010 and 2014 and that the state’s voters elected Republican majorities in both legislative houses. Joe, with his liberal bias ignores those unsightly facts, clinging to the oft-told belief that the Upper Midwest is Clinton’s impregnable wall. Joe is blindsided when the state goes from firewall for Clinton to chain around her neck, dragging her to defeat.

Our savvy novelist has planted all these clues to the eventual outcome, but as we follow Joe’s life, we might buy into his worldview regarding the election—or we can pay attention to the clues when they arise and pat ourselves on the back for seeing the turn of events before it appeared. Different readers, different reactions.

Read any good books lately?