On rationality, resonance, and a potential blind spot in Effective Altruism

In Effective Altruism, we often assume that better decisions follow from better reasons. This post does not challenge that goal. But it questions something more basic: whether our implicit model of how people relate to reasons may be too narrow. 

An Explanation of Populism

Across the world, democracies are under pressure. And while we have no shortage of explanations, none of them seem fully satisfying. We point to economic insecurity, cultural change, technological disruption, “losers of modernization,” or personality traits like narcissism. And often, we add a familiar diagnosis: a drift away from rationality. All of this likely captures part of the picture. And yet, something feels missing. What if part of the problem lies not only with those who support populist movements, but also in how we - especially in academia, journalism, and policy - frame and communicate reality?

Not a rejection of rationality - but of a narrow version of it

Populism is often understood as a deviation from rational politics: a turn toward simplification, emotionalization, and distortion. But this framing already assumes a particular model of rationality. What if the issue is not that people are rejecting rationality, but that they do not recognize themselves in a specific form of it? From this perspective, populism is not only an epistemic problem. It is also a communicative one - more precisely, a problem of missing resonance.

A gap of resonance

This gap may not be primarily institutional; it may instead be psychological and communicative. It emerges when dominant political narratives no longer reach or reflect the lived realities of large parts of the population. Modern political communication tends to privilege a particular way of making sense of the world: a scientific-rational understanding of truth, combined with a broadly universalist moral framework. This has been enormously successful and remains indispensable. At the same time, for people whose way of relating to the world is more grounded in lived experience, this form of communication can feel distant, abstract, or even subtly dismissive. Not necessarily because the content is wrong - but because the mode of communication does not match their expectations and realities.

Two ways of relating to the world

As a rough heuristic, it may be helpful to distinguish between two modes of relating to the world: 

• Some people primarily engage through content: arguments, evidence, and consistency. This mode is especially common in academic and policy-oriented environments.
• Other people relate more through experience, relationships, and resonance. For them, what matters is not only what is said, but how it is said, who is saying it, and whether it connects to their own lived reality - whether it creates a sense of recognition and belonging.

This distinction is not clean, and it certainly does not map neatly onto political camps. But it may help explain recurring patterns: why some groups prioritize coherence and normative consistency, while others are more sensitive to whether they feel seen, respected, or addressed as a group.

When communication breaks down

When these modes collide, communication can break down - especially if neither side adjusts, even slightly, to the expectations of the other. What is intended as rational can be perceived as distant, patronizing, or “from above.” Not because rationality itself is the problem, but because it appears in a form that fails to engage the other mode of understanding. In such moments, something subtle but important shifts: 

A question of experience is reframed as a question of correctness.

Rationality is not always available

There is another point that seems underappreciated. The ability to think in a reflective, evidence-based way is not constant. It depends on resources - time, cognitive capacity, emotional stability, and a sense of safety and control. Under conditions of stress, uncertainty, or perceived powerlessness, people process information differently. They tend to respond more to immediate, emotionally resonant interpretations and less to abstract, long-term arguments. This does not mean that rationality disappears. But it does mean that it is not always the primary mode through which people engage with the world. Seen in this light, the ideal of the rational, evidence-oriented citizen looks less like a neutral description and more like a normative expectation - one that is not equally accessible to everyone.

A different way of reading populism

From this perspective, populism may be understood, at least in part, as a response to this tension. Not simply as a rejection of facts, but as a turn toward forms of communication that offer resonance, belonging, and experiential relevance. This might also explain why standard responses - more information, better arguments, more evidence - often fail to persuade. They operate on a different level than the one where the disconnect actually occurs.

Implications for Effective Altruism

For Effective Altruism, this raises a question. EA is particularly strong at analyzing complex problems and identifying evidence-based solutions. That is a core strength. But it may also come with a limitation - namely, when it primarily addresses one mode of rationality while leaving other ways of relating to the world unaddressed. This does not mean that EA should become less rational. But it might mean that impact depends not only on what is true, but also on how that truth becomes accessible and in what kind of relational context it is communicated.

At the heart of this lies a deeper question: Is rational discourse sufficient to sustain democratic legitimacy? Much of modern political theory assumes that, in the end, legitimacy emerges from reasoned argument. Or, in a formulation often linked to Habermas:

At the end, there stands a domination-free dialogue.

But what if this ideal already presupposes a form of engagement that is not equally available - or equally meaningful - to everyone? I’m not sure how far this perspective holds. But it shifts the question. Not only: why do people reject facts? But also: why does the way we present facts fail to resonate with them? If there is even a partial answer here, then the problem of modern politics may not be a lack of rationality, but a too narrow understanding of what rationality actually is - one that may itself be, at least in part, socially constructed.