The "End of History" Illusion - Bence Nanay

Time and time again, we’ve failed to predict that the technologies of the present will change the future. Recently, a similar pattern was discovered in our individual lives: we’re unable to predict change in ourselves. But is there anything wrong with assuming that who we are now is who we will continue to be? Bence Nanay details the consequences of seeing ourselves as finished products.

Lesson by Bence Nanay, directed by Stretch Films Inc.

When trains began to shuttle people
across the coutryside,

many insisted
they would never replace horses.

Less than a century later, people
repeated that same prediction about cars,

telephones,

radio,

television,

and computers.

Each had their own host of detractors.

Even some experts
insisted they wouldn’t catch on.

Of course, we can’t predict exactly
what the future will look like

or what new inventions will populate it.

But time and time again,

we’ve also failed to predict
that the technologies of the present

will change the future.

And recent research has revealed
a similar pattern in our individual lives:

we’re unable to predict change
in ourselves.

Three psychologists documented
our inability to predict personal change

in a 2013 paper
called, “The End of History Illusion.”

Named after political scientist
Francis Fukuyama’s prediction

that liberal democracy
was the final form of government,

or as he called it, “the end of history,”

their work highlights the way
we see ourselves as finished products

at any given moment.

The researchers recruited over
7,000 participants ages 18 to 68.

They asked half of these participants to
report their current personality traits,

values,

and preferences,

along with what each of those metrics
had been ten years before.

The other half described those features
in their present selves,

and predicted what
they would be ten years in the future.

Based on these answers,

the researchers then calculated
the degree of change

each participant reported or predicted.

For every age group in the sample,

they compared the predicted changes
to the reported changes.

So they compared the degree to which
18-year-olds thought they would change

to the degree to which 28-year-olds
reported they had changed.

Overwhelmingly, at all ages,

people’s future estimates of change
came up short

compared to the changes
their older counterparts recalled.

20-year-olds expected
to still like the same foods at 30,

but 30-year-olds no longer
had the same tastes.

30-year-olds predicted they’d still
have the same best friend at 40,

but 40-year-olds
had lost touch with theirs.

And 40-year-olds predicted
they’d maintain the same core values

that 50-year-olds had reconsidered.

While older people changed less
than younger people on the whole,

they underestimated
their capacity for change just as much.

Wherever we are in life,
the end of history illusion persists:

we tend to think that the bulk
of our personal change is behind us.

One consequence of this thinking

is that we’re inclined to overinvest
in future choices

based on present preferences.

On average, people are willing
to pay about 60% more

to see their current favorite musician
ten years in the future

than they’d currently pay to see their
favorite musician from ten years ago.

While the stakes involved
in concert-going are low,

we’re susceptible
to similar miscalculations

in more serious commitments,

like homes,

partners,

and jobs.

At the same time,
there’s no real way to predict

what our preferences
will be in the future.

Without the end of history Illusion,

it would be difficult
to make any long-term plans.

So the end of history illusion
applies to our individual lives,

but what about the wider world?

Could we be assuming that how things
are now is how they will continue to be?

If so, fortunately,
there are countless records

to remind us that the world does change,
sometimes for the better.

Our own historical moment
isn’t the end of history,

and that can be just as much a source
of comfort as a cause for concern.