Calling Bullshit (vs. Being a 'Well, Actually' Guy)
This concept distinguishes genuine bullshit calling—which fundamentally undermines misleading claims—from pedantic, irrelevant corrections (the 'well, actually' guy) that serve only to demonstrate intellectual superiority. It emphasizes relevance, good-faith dialogue, and protecting audiences over self-aggrandizement.
THE IDEA
When we teach our students to call bullshit, we want to avoid creating a legion of "well, actually" guys. What's a well-actually guy? It's the guy who interrupts a conversation to demonstrate his own cleverness by pointing out some irrelevant factoid that renders the speaker incorrect on a technicality.
Let's take an example. I'm talking to a friend of mine over lunch, and I say: "It's interesting. There are lots of birds that trick other species into raising their offspring. Cuckoos, cowbirds, honeyguides, even some ducks. But mammals never do this. I wonder why not."
She thinks for a moment, and then observes, "I suspect it is because mammals don't lay eggs. That makes it a lot harder to sneak a baby in there!"
"Well, actually," I respond, "some mammals do lay eggs. Echidnas and platypuses, collectively known as monotremes and found only in Australia and Papua New Guinea, are both oviparous."
Let's face it, that was a totally annoying thing to do. And it had nothing to do with calling bullshit. Why not? Let's look at some of the factors that distinguish a caller of bullshit from a well-actually guy.
• Relevance. When you do a good job of calling bullshit, you undermine a claim in a fundamental way. Your objections negate the argument the speaker is trying to make. A well-actually guy doesn't move the discussion forward at all. Instead, he offers a pedantic or tangential objection that does not have much bearing on the core claims. When I objected about monotremes and eggs, I was not wrong, but my objection was almost entirely immaterial to the conversation we were having. There are a few egg-laying mammals, but my friend was right about 99.9 percent of mammal species. In the end, my friend's statement "mammals don't lay eggs" isn't universally true. But her idea sounds right, and my objection does nothing to undermine it.
• Speaker's intention. Typically, a caller of bullshit refutes someone who is intentionally bullshitting or being deceptive. A well-actually guy is different. He doesn't hesitate to contradict someone who is engaging in a dialogue in good faith. When I griped about monotremes, I fell on the wrong side of this line. My friend's suggestion was made in good faith. She wasn't trying to impress anyone. She wasn't trying to mislead anyone. She was simply trying to help me by answering my question.
• Objector's motivations. A well-actually guy doesn't care so much about where the argument is going as he does about demonstrating his own intellectual superiority. I didn't mention monotremes because they had any bearing on my friend's idea; I brought them up in order to make it clear that I'm better versed in matters zoological than she is—and possibly for the opportunity to use the word "oviparous" in conversation. Calling bullshit is not a way to signal your intelligence. Get a MENSA card if that sort of thing is important to you.
• Audience. When you call bullshit, you are usually trying to prevent a bullshitter or liar from misleading his audience. A well-actually guy doesn't care about protecting an audience, he is merely interested in demonstrating his own cleverness. When I objected about monotremes, no one else was even part of the conversation.
• Power dynamics. When you call bullshit, you may find yourself speaking truth to power. A well-actually guy isn't speaking truth to power. He's often punching down. His motivation is to put the speaker in her place while raising himself up.
• Judiciousness. A caller of bullshit makes a careful decision about whether it is worthwhile to speak up, derail a conversation, risk a confrontation, or make someone feel defensive. A well-actually guy simply cannot help himself. He hears something he believes he can contradict and doesn't have the self-control to think first about whether it is helpful to do so.
In the end, a well-actually guy has more in common with a bullshitter than he does with a caller of bullshit. A bullshitter disregards truth or logical coherence in order to impress or overwhelm an audience. That's the well-actually guy. He doesn't care about advancing truth, or about the logical coherence of his objections. He is simply trying to impress or intimidate someone with his knowledge. Calling bullshit is not about making yourself look or feel smarter. If that is your goal, you are missing the point of this chapter, and indeed the whole point of this book. Effective bullshit calling is about making others smarter. This should be your barometer of success—and requires an extra level of social finesse.
Spotting bullshit is not easy, especially with the daily onslaught of misinformation. It takes practice and deliberate effort. Remember, calling bullshit is more than a claim. It's a powerful action, and can easily be misused. But if you make an effort to be clear and correct and to remain reasonably civil, most people will respect you.
Before you publicly refute a claim, ask yourself who your audience is—and whether that audience is worth your time. Some people are so entrenched in their beliefs that they will never be convinced, no matter how cogent the argument and how airtight the facts. Spend your time and effort on people who are willing to engage.
Above all, remember Neil Postman's dictum: "At any given time, the chief source of bullshit with which you have to contend is yourself." Confirmation bias can make us more confident than we ought to be, and humility is an important corrective. Self-reflection and an appreciation for the difficulty of getting to the truth: These are the marks of a mature thinker worth trusting. Sure, we want to keep the rest of the world honest—but for everyone's sake, let's start with ourselves.
Calling bullshit is more than a party trick, a confidence booster, or a way to sound impressive in front of your boss. It is a moral imperative. As we note in the opening line of the book, the world is awash with bullshit—from clickbait to deepfakes. Some of it is innocuous, some is a minor annoyance, and some is even funny. But a lot of the bullshit out there has serious consequences for human health and prosperity, the integrity of science, and democratic decision making.
The rise of misinformation and disinformation keeps us up at night. No law or fancy new AI is going to solve the problem. We all have to be a little more vigilant, a little more thoughtful, a little more careful when sharing information—and every once in a while, we need to call bullshit when we see it.
When to use it
Debunking a misleading health claim shared on social media, focusing on the central fallacy rather than minor typographical errors.
In a classroom discussion, correcting a student's fundamental misunderstanding about a scientific concept while ignoring irrelevant details.
During a board meeting, challenging a data manipulation that misrepresents company performance, rather than nitpicking about the formatting of the chart.
Conversations about politics or religion where you want to expose disinformation without alienating the person you're talking to.
FROM THEORY TO EVERYDAY LIFE
In practice
Monotreme Objection
A friend suggests that mammals don't lay eggs, which is true for 99.9% of species. The 'well, actually' guy interrupts with a pedantic correction about monotremes (echidnas and platypuses) that is technically true but entirely irrelevant to the original question about brood parasitism. The correction calls for considering relevance, intention, motivation, audience, power dynamics, and judiciousness.
Counterexample to Euler's Sum of Powers Conjecture
In 1966, two mathematicians used a computer to find 27^5 + 84^5 + 110^5 + 133^5 = 144^5, disproving a 200-year-old conjecture. This is a powerful, relevant counterexample—unlike the pedantic monotreme correction.
A MOMENT TO REFLECT
Put it to work.
Think of a time you corrected someone. Was your objection relevant to the core claim, or was it tangential? How did the other person react?
When you feel the urge to point out a technical inaccuracy, pause and ask: Am I trying to help the audience understand, or am I trying to show off?
How can you ensure that your bullshit calling is aimed at protecting others rather than elevating yourself?
CONTINUE THE CONVERSATION
Source texts
- Calling Bullshit The Art of Skepticism in a Data-Driven World (Carl T. Bergstrom Jevin D. West)