What a relief?
In an earlier post, I described a case in which you slam on the brakes of your car and thereby avoid hitting a pedestrian. Just imagine your relief! But wait. I argued that you wouldn’t have hit him if you hadn’t used the brakes, because the chance that either of you would exist if you hadn’t used the brakes is the chance that an ice cube at room temperature doesn’t melt. So that’s the same chance that your encounter with the pedestrian turns out differently than it actually did. Knowing this, is it rational for you to feel relieved that you didn’t hit him?
Not according to section 5.7 of my book. Think of it this way. You follow the internet’s advice to give your orchid enough water, but not too much, by placing an ice cube in the pot and letting it melt. Hours later, when you see that the ice cube did in fact melt, do you react with “Phew! That was a close one”? Obviously not. Such a reaction would be irrational.
Perhaps the intense feeling of relief ‒ the hormonal surge ‒ evolved because it conferred an advantage on our ancestors. In that case, it may be biologically impossible not to feel a sense of relief when you avoid hitting the pedestrian. Nevertheless, the attitude of relief that you didn’t hit him doesn’t withstand scrutiny. Analogously, I can’t avoid the impression that the moon is much larger when it’s near the horizon. But I know better than to believe that it actually takes up more of the sky.
Although retrospective relief that you didn’t hit the pedestrian lacks rational justification, you can make rational prospective use of the hormonal surge. You can use the feeling as a spur to drive even more attentively in the future, having learned first-hand that pedestrians can dart in front of your moving car.
