Sci-Comm Essay 3 - Why “Both Sides” Isn’t Always Fair
- Paul Falconer & ESA
- 3 hours ago
- 4 min read
You’ve seen it. A news segment presents a climate scientist and a lobbyist for a fossil fuel company, each given equal time. A headline reads: “Experts Divided on New Health Policy” when 95% of researchers agree. A family discussion is derailed because one person insists “we need to hear both sides,” even when one side has no credible evidence.
It sounds reasonable. Fairness, after all, is a virtue. But sometimes what looks like fairness is actually a trap.
In the NPF/CNI framework, this is called a cultural meta‑fallacy: a pattern of thinking that is baked into how we talk, taught in media, and rewarded in conversation. It’s not a single logical error, but a habit of treating all views as if they deserve equal weight regardless of evidence. And it has consequences—for our beliefs, for our networks, and for how we make decisions.
The Two Faces of Balance
Balance can be a genuine virtue. It’s good to hear different perspectives, to avoid echo chambers, to test your own views against strong counterarguments. But there’s a difference between balance and false equivalence.
Balance means you seek out the best arguments from different sides, weight them by evidence, and form a conclusion.
False equivalence means you treat two positions as equally credible even when the evidence is lopsided. It’s not that both sides deserve the same airtime; it’s that one side is given a platform it hasn’t earned.
In the framework, this is related to the Neutral Pathway (NP) factor: the habit of treating unevidenced or weakly evidenced claims as if they’re just another reasonable option. It sounds fair, but it quietly normalises claims that have no business being treated as serious.
How It Carves Ruts
Imagine a conversation about a new medical treatment. One person cites the consensus of major health organisations; another person says “I’ve heard it’s dangerous.” The first speaker starts to feel like they’re being “dogmatic.” The second speaker feels validated: their opinion is being treated as equally legitimate.
That validation feels good. It’s a small reward. Over time, the brain learns: even without evidence, my opinion gets taken seriously if I frame it as “the other side.”
This is how the Exclusivity/Superiority Factor (ESF) can operate in reverse: you don’t need special knowledge; you just need to occupy the “other side” slot. The slot itself confers status.
And once the pattern is learned, it spills over. The same person who insists on hearing “both sides” about vaccines may later insist on “both sides” about climate change, or about economic policy, regardless of the actual evidence. That’s Spillover Effect (SE) : a shortcut in one domain becomes a general habit.
Scaffolding: When “Both Sides” Becomes a Foundation
In some communities, the belief that “every issue has two equally valid sides” becomes a foundational belief—a piece of ideological scaffolding. It props up other beliefs:
“You can’t trust any single source.”
“The truth is always somewhere in the middle.”
“If I’m not hearing both sides, I’m being manipulated.”
These feel like principles of open‑mindedness. But they can become a shield against evidence. If every claim is treated as just one side of a story, then no claim can ever be settled. The door stays open forever.
In the formal model, this is when a belief network tightens. The CNI—Composite NPF Index, a proposed measure of network entrenchment—would be moving higher. The person becomes harder to reach with evidence, because evidence is just “one side.”
Why Culture Matters
This pattern is not universal. It’s strongest in individualist cultures that value adversarial debate and “fairness” as equal airtime. In collectivist cultures, the meta‑fallacy can look different: harmony preservation might mean avoiding any discussion that could create conflict, leading to a different kind of bias—silencing dissent rather than giving it false equivalence.
The NPF/CNI framework acknowledges this with a proposed cultural calibration parameter. In the technical work, this is a theoretical adjustment to the normalisation of CNI scores; it has not yet been empirically validated across cultures. The goal isn’t to impose one standard; it’s to notice when the pattern is causing harm—when it’s making it harder to track evidence, to update beliefs, to make sound decisions.
What to Do About It
You can’t eliminate false balance from the media or from every conversation. But you can recognise it in your own thinking and in the conversations you choose to have.
1. Distinguish “both sides” from “the best evidence.”When you hear a claim that “experts are divided,” ask: divided how? Is it 50‑50, or 95‑5? Proportional scrutiny applies to balance as well: the weight of coverage should reflect the weight of evidence.
2. Notice the pattern.When you feel the urge to say “we need to hear both sides,” ask yourself: are there really two sides with comparable evidence? Or am I defaulting to a formula that feels fair but obscures reality?
3. Be willing to say “the evidence isn’t balanced.”It’s not arrogant to state that one side is better supported. It’s being honest about the world. You can say it gently: “I appreciate that perspective, but the evidence for this side is much stronger.”
4. Check your scaffolding.If the belief that “all views deserve equal weight” has become a foundation for your thinking, test it. Are there areas where you apply it inconsistently? Would you give equal time to a flat‑earther and a geophysicist? If not, then the rule isn’t universal—and that’s a clue that it might not be a good guide. This isn’t about never hearing minority views; it’s about recognising when the “two sides” frame is being used to avoid ever reaching a conclusion.
The Deeper Issue
False balance isn’t just a media problem; it’s a cognitive habit. It’s the Neutral Pathway factor dressed up as fairness. And like any habit, it can become a rut.
The good news is that ruts can be reshaped. Noticing the pattern, naming it, and choosing a different response—even occasionally—is a form of cognitive hygiene. It keeps the landscape flexible.
Go Deeper
This essay touches on concepts from several papers in the series:
For the full framework, see the canonical papers and bridge essays in the NPF/CNI series.
End of Essay
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