How You Should Trust More. And Less

It’s a solid path to a sense of security … and an illusion. Here’s how to navigate the fantasy and the necessity of trust

My good friend and art critic, Brian Boucher, once unwittingly shared an apartment with one of America’s Most Wanted. The man made a neat and friendly impression when he viewed Brian’s extra room, seemed reliable and respectful, and just happened to turn out a fugitive diamond thief. The mastermind in the biggest jewel heist in San Francisco history. He always paid on time, kept quiet, and sometimes would be gone for days. Brian could have been in roommate heaven had it not been for that series of peculiar events, including the day he found a manila envelope in his sublet’s room packed with Brian’s personal information. In the end, my friend found himself on the witness stand in a San Francisco courtroom, being asked about what he knew of the ten-million-dollar theft. After the trial, Brian flew home to his Manhattan apartment, got online, and searched for a new roommate on Craigslist — the very site that delivered a diamond thief into his home.

Brian is, as I, a New Yorker — we can’t afford not to trust, and not just for financial reasons. New York City is what happens when you pen up the full range of human beings this planet has to offer on a few small islands of rock. More than 28.000 of us piled high in every square mile. In the density of this microcosm, we are forced to watch at close range how others are other, doing others’ other things. The only path is right through the middle of the unknown, full confidence ahead. We’re rewarded with the experience that usually no danger comes from what seems different from ourselves — an invaluable citizen of the world lesson. It’s okay to have faith in our fellow weirdos, to bank on our roommates not being gangsters, or if they are, maybe they’ll be like the last one and not kill us.

People trust each other. Excessively and against all odds

If you believe in philosophers like Machiavelli or Hobbes, it seems crazy to walk through life with confidence. They were convinced that as humans, we all strive for our own advantage. Neoclassical economic theory takes it further, assuming that people betray one another’s confidence if it benefits them, especially if they likely won’t encounter that person again. In this light, trusting a stranger would be completely irrational. And yet, people do. Excessively even, as studies show. When dealing with strangers, we are willing to accept more risk than we would in, say, a game of roulette. Why? Feelings. “Trusting others is what people think they should do, and the emotions associated with fulfilling a social duty or responsibility (e.g., guilt, anxiety) account for at least a significant proportion of the excessive trust observed,” write the researchers. Plainly put: Not trusting others makes us feel bad about ourselves.

So, we should take that leap of faith and presume the best in each other.

“Well frankly, I think that’s a stupid aim,” says British philosopher Onora O’Neill. “Intelligently placed and intelligently refused trust is the proper aim.” Okay, I can see her point. I trust my best friend not to judge me for traveling half an hour cross town to get my cereal ten cents cheaper, but when I lend her something, you bet I take note, or I’ll never see it again. According to O’Neill, it’s all about judging a person’s trustworthiness on a case-by-case basis, looking for signs of competency, honesty, and reliability. Likewise, we have to give others good reasons to have confidence in us.

Trust isn’t something to demand. It’s something to earn

In fact, we even have a responsibility for the other person’s trustworthiness. I have this severe nut allergy; even a trace of a nut could finish me off. So I have a healthy portion of suspicion for anyone who wants to feed me. When I eat out, I recapitulate with the waiter how to get me through the meal alive. And typically, I do it in the most adorable way: A fluttering joke, a self-effacing eye-roll, “Hahaha, let me live, haha.” I downplay the gravity because I’m embarrassed to require the special treatment. What follows are equally downplayed responses. “Why, of course, we won’t throw any nuts in the food, hahaha.” Next thing I know, I’m trudging through bite after bite like Hitler’s tasters. Transparency is a precondition of trust, and with my concealed intentions, I prevent any foundation for mutual credibility.

But one particular meal, I was too tired for my tricks and genuinely relayed my concerns to the waiter, which prompted Chef Danny himself to visit my table. Somberly I explained to Chef Danny that he could have a very dead customer on his hands. He proceeded to describe to me in detail how he handles his business in the kitchen and how well he trains his staff to separate equipment and preparation areas. Chef Danny showed me that he was indeed a pro. I trusted him with my vulnerability, and it motivated him to shower me with evidence of his trustworthiness. Delicious.

There is another pathway to trust that follows our fears. Threatened by change and a world barely comprehensible, some of us give over to protectors who manifest those fears into a specific enemy — real or no. For this, we need only look at the case of Donald Trump. According to the fact-checking project Politifact, only 3% of his statements are true. He was an assault on reality, repeatedly proving that he had absolutely no idea what he was talking about and never provided credible sources for the arguments he made. Competency, honesty, and reliability? Nil, nada, bupkis. But followers trusted the real estatenik famous for bankruptcies and bad worker’s conditions to make their lives great again. They still do. Millions end up virus-stricken in hospital beds because they listened to their pumpkin-colored god or to his cronies or his fellow populist leaders around the world over the instruction of scientists with long track records of expertise. This type of blind trust can feel oh so nice and cozy. The ways of the world seem much easier to grasp when you abandon all critical thought and fall back into the bosom of another’s fabrications. Such a relief to be lulled into the illusion of safety, like when dad told you your teddy bear would protect you from the monsters under the bed.

Faith remains a fantasy

The lengths we go to achieve even the slightest sense of security! But ultimately it doesn’t matter whether we trust blindly or after careful consideration: Faith remains a fantasy, security an illusion. It’s impossible to predict whether someone will behave the way you think they will. All of us will be betrayed in our confidence at some point, and that doesn’t make us fools. Just human. Anyway, mistrust is no solution either because we’d never get anywhere if we monkey around with all the reasons against our wellbeing. Maybe the best course is to accept our innate human need to feel secure and embrace trust as a reliable path to getting a sense of it. But at the same time, it seems a good idea to stay aware that we’re engaging in fortune-telling. For what it’s worth: Science shows that general trust in our fellow human beings is linked to better health, greater happiness, and more intelligence. Sounds like a good deal to me.