Estimated reading time: 2 mins
It’s surprising how often I’ve found myself arguing with someone over whether something is overrated or underrated.
The problem is that a claim that something is “overrated” or “underrated” uses a single term to convey two judgements:
- What you think the ‘correct’ rating is; and
- What ‘the crowd’s’ rating is.
The listener may agree that something is “overrated”, while disagreeing with the speaker on both #1 and #2. Alternatively, the listener may agree on what the correct rating (#1) is, but disagree on #2 and therefore disagree on your overall statement.
What’s the harm?
It’s fine to use terms like “overrated or “underrated” as mere icebreakers or prompts. On the Conversations with Tyler podcast for example, Tyler Cowen rattles off lists of random things — social sciences, Karl Marx, George Harrison — and asks his guest whether they think it’s overrated, underrated or properly rated.
I admit I throw these terms around too because sometimes the crowd seems so obviously wrong that even if I don’t know what the ‘correct’ rating is, I can at least point out the crowd’s wrongness. When discussing things like pizza or Costco, the stakes are non-existent.
But I’ve also found myself in more serious debates about whether specialisation is “overrated”; or if crime is “as bad as people say”; or whether people place “too much weight on” the role of nature as opposed to nurture—all of which were unnecessarily protracted because we had very different assessments of the “crowd’s rating” because we hung out in different crowds.
If I were to be honest, my use of such terms like “overrated” or “underrated” usually masks sloppy thinking. We like these terms precisely because they’re vague. It’s impossible to determine what the “crowd’s rating” is, since it depends on the crowd. So we’re never proven wrong.
If you find yourself using these terms a lot, share your thoughts in the comments below