Why We Struggle to Choose Wisely: Identity, Belief, and the Hidden Logic of Political Behavior

We like to think of ourselves as rational beings, weighing evidence, reasoning carefully, and making intelligent decisions about our lives, our politics, and our futures. But in truth, many of our most consequential decisions, about who we are, what we believe, and how we vote, are not driven by logic or reason. They’re shaped by something much deeper and more opaque: the histories of our verbal behavior, our relational networks of belief, and the social contexts that give them functional meaning.

From a functional contextualist perspective, human behavior—including belief, identity, and political engagement—is not primarily about truth, logic, or propositional consistency. It is about function: what the behavior does in context. Our beliefs, even those we hold with fervor, are best understood as tools for navigating social, cultural, and personal landscapes—tools shaped by reinforcement histories, learned associations, and verbal networks that have evolved over time.

Drawing from Relational Frame Theory (RFT), we understand that beliefs are built within arbitrarily applicable relational networks. That is, we learn to associate concepts not only through direct experience but through language—by relating things verbally as same as, opposite to, more than, less than, or caused by. Over time, these relational networks become complex and self-reinforcing. When a person believes, for example, that a certain political ideology is “freedom” and the opposing view is “tyranny,” they are not describing objective truths—they are navigating a historically and contextually reinforced frame that functions to preserve a certain sense of self and social coherence.

This brings us to an important concept: coherence. In contextual behavioral science, coherence refers to the tendency for verbal behavior (including belief systems) to maintain internal consistency over time—often at the cost of adaptability or nuance. Coherence feels good. It provides identity stability, social validation, and a sense of moral or ideological clarity. But it can also entrench narrow repertoires, limit flexibility, and block meaningful discernment. This is especially true when identity is tightly fused with belief: to question the belief feels like questioning the self.

Attempts to change such beliefs through logical or rational argument frequently fail—not because people are unintelligent, but because these beliefs were never formed through logical or rational means in the first place. They are contextual, associative, and functional. They serve to belong, to protect, to resist, to assert, to avoid. They are emotionally loaded and socially anchored.

This is particularly evident in the realm of political behavior. Political psychologists have long noted that voting patterns, ideological rigidity, and resistance to evidence are not signs of cognitive deficit but indicators of deeper identity-based processes. People vote and align politically not just to express preferences but to signal identity, moral belonging, group loyalty, and even resistance or fear. These behaviours are better explained through function than through truth-value logic.

In fact, trying to persuade someone with opposing political views using facts and logic can often strengthen their original beliefs—a phenomenon known in political psychology as the backfire effect. From a functional contextual perspective, this happens because the argument threatens the person’s sense of coherence and identity. Rather than integrating the new information, the person doubles down on their existing beliefs to preserve social and psychological stability.

This also helps us understand how politicians and systems of power manipulate belief. They rarely appeal to logic; they appeal to function. Through carefully crafted language, repetition, imagery, and emotional salience, they shape verbal networks that reinforce group identity, fear of outsiders, and simplistic narratives. They exploit the manipulable structure of belief—not because voters are foolish, but because beliefs themselves are vulnerable to functional influence. The logic being appealed to is not a propositional one, but a contextual, behavioural, and relational one.

To call these decisions “stupid” is to miss the point. They are not usually miscalculations of logic. They are contextually coherent behaviors shaped by complex reinforcement histories, identity needs, and social pressures. Dismissing them as irrational reveals a misunderstanding of how beliefs actually work in human systems.

So where does that leave us?

If we want to encourage wiser discernment in ourselves and others, we must begin not with argument but with context. We must understand the history of the belief, the social function it serves, and the identity structures it supports. And we must proceed with humility—knowing that we, too, are bound by the same processes.

Beliefs are not inert ideas to be corrected with better information. They are living, breathing actions embedded in relational, cultural, and emotional contexts. To work with them skilfully, we must see them not as truths to be disproven, but as behaviours to be understood.