Uncertainty, as we wrote years ago, is a real problem. Not a problem in and of itself. But it’s certainly a problem for modernist thinking.
That’s why, time and gain, neoclassical economists have attempted to reduce uncertainty to probabilistic certainty. It also seems to be why a team of scientists (neurobiologists and others) [ht: ja] have devised an experiment to show that we’re hardwired to experience stress under uncertainty.
So what’s the big deal? Everyone knows that uncertainty is stressful. But what’s not so obvious is that uncertainty is more stressful than predictable negative consequences. Is it really more stressful wondering whether you’ll make it to your meeting on time than knowing you’ll be late? Is it more stressful wondering if you’re about to get sacked than being relatively sure of it? De Berker’s results provide a resounding “yes”.
There are two problems with this approach. First, it ignores the possibility that uncertainty is a discursive phenomenon—that the stories we tell about uncertainty affect how we experience it. Second, uncertainty in and of itself need not be stressful. There are plenty of instances in which the outcome is simply unknown—from sitting down to write a paper to starting a new investment project, from starting a new relationship to participating in a political movement—when our uncertainty about what might happen is precisely what propels us forward.
Sure, turning over rocks that might have snakes hidden under them would probably induce stress. But that’s not because of the uncertainty; it’s because they’re snakes! (And, even then, I have herpetologist friends who would be delighted to find those snakes.)
Let’s just say I’m not convinced of the project to domesticate and control uncertainty, either by reducing it to a probabilistic calculus or to locate it in the brain (as part of some evolutionary process).
There’s lots of uncertainty out there but what it is and how we respond to it depend on the stories we tell (as I have written about many times on this blog). Uncertainty, in other words, is always and everywhere a discursive phenomenon.