Every time you give someone a second chance, trust in a political solution, or start an overly ambitious personal project, you are playing with the thin line between believing and doubting. When you trust those who have failed you, get your hopes up again, or keep going despite the more than reasonable doubts that hammer in your head, you are making an act of faith. In fact, the suspension of disbelief is a psychological tool that we use daily to force ourselves to believe in something or someone, even though reason and evidence tell us that we should not.
What is suspension of disbelief?
In 1817, the English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote about the “Lyrical Ballads” project that was to focus his work on supernatural people and characters capable of generating such interest that they could momentarily suspend readers’ disbelief and activate “poetic faith.”
He was referring to that effort to make the unreal realistic or to make the story so captivating that people would accept it, even if they had to sacrifice realism and sometimes even logic and credibility in favor of entertainment.
This phenomenon does not only apply to literature, it also extends to cinema, theatre, illusionism, politics and, of course, to life itself.
As a result, suspension of disbelief is a psychological phenomenon that occurs when we “turn off” our critical sense. It involves the decision – more or less voluntary – to ignore the facts, what we know or reason itself.
To believe or not to believe… that is the question
Disbelief is a kind of shield against intellectual blindness. It pushes us to doubt, preventing us from accepting anything without questioning it. Disbelief is what invites us to reflect, seek evidence and avoid falling into dogmas that could limit us.
The ability to ask ourselves “what if it weren’t true?” is also a crucial tool to avoid being manipulated. Critical judgment pushes us to look beyond appearances, seeking deeper explanations and meanings that often allow us to better understand the world.
However, beliefs can also be a driving force that helps us move forward. Believing in ourselves, in our abilities, or in a greater purpose can give us the strength we need to undertake certain projects. At the same time, beliefs give meaning and coherence to the world, reducing uncertainty.
At the same time, we need to believe in others. Trust is the invisible foundation that supports any interpersonal relationship, whether it be friendship, love or work. Believing in others means assuming that their words, intentions and actions are genuine, that they do not hide bad intentions. Without this trust, any interaction becomes fragile, marked by suspicion, which in the end wears us down.
Why are we willing to “turn off” reason?
Literary critic Norman N. Holland proposed a neuroscientific theory to explain the suspension of disbelief. At the neural level, when we become engrossed in a fictional narrative, our brains shift completely into “perception mode,” which reduces our critical thinking or planning ability.
When stories “transport” us, we are not skeptical about, say, Spiderman jumping between skyscrapers. As a general rule, we prefer to enjoy what we are seeing rather than engage in a detailed analysis of its plausibility – which will probably spoil the fun.
Obviously, this is not always the case.
Psychological experiments show that any narrative experience does not suspend disbelief. The key is “disinterest.” That is, when we know we cannot – or do not want to – change something, we let down our guard and accept unreal narratives.
In practice, since we don’t have to act, our brain saves resources and doesn’t filter what we’re seeing, hearing, or feeling through the sieve of reason. The prefrontal cortex doesn’t try to evaluate the plausibility of what we’re seeing or hearing because we don’t need to jump to the screen or the pages of the book to save the protagonist in trouble. Therefore, many of the neural processes that help us think are deactivated.
Instead, when we feel that we must act or take sides, our brain reconnects the prefrontal areas and begins to check the reality of what we are perceiving. We then begin to think about what we have seen, heard or felt and evaluate its plausibility.
Obviously, our faith is not infinite either. Permissiveness towards excesses has a limit. Unexpected, unjustified or out-of-place twists break the “magic.” When the narrative breaks internal coherence, we can feel that the “contract” has been broken. This brings us back to reality and activates our critical sense.
When we choose to believe …
Interestingly, suspension of disbelief isn’t just a literary or cinematic device, we also apply it in our everyday interactions, though sometimes without realizing it. In essence, we temporarily accept something that seems improbable because doing so allows us to build bonds, resolve conflicts, or simply feel better.
Think, for example, of someone who has promised you, “I’ll call you tomorrow” or “I’ll change this time.” Perhaps your previous experiences or logic suggest that they won’t, but you choose to believe. This conscious act of suspending disbelief is essential in relationships: it reinforces hope and allows the other person space to demonstrate their intentions. Without this suspension, every interaction would become a cold, calculated, suspicion-ridden exchange, with skepticism at every turn, likely undermining the possibility of connection.
Every time we go to vote, we also suspend our critical capacity, even if we find it hard to admit it. Our past experiences may have left us with a bitter taste – broken promises, corruption or measures that did not bear fruit – but we still decide to suspend skepticism to believe that “this time it will be different.”
That phenomenon applies to ourselves, too. When we face a particularly difficult challenge or are really excited about something, we can suspend disbelief by ignoring our limitations. We tell ourselves “I can do it,” silencing internal doubts. In some cases, that act of faith in our abilities opens the door to growth. In others, the suspension of disbelief can lead directly to failure.
The essential balance between believing and doubting
True wisdom consists in finding the balance between faith and disbelief. Too much trust can blind us, causing us to deny evidence, making us more manipulable and easy victims of deception. However, extreme skepticism can also make us cynical, paralyzing us and keeping us from enriching experiences.
The key is knowing when to trust and when to question what we see, hear or feel. It is about learning to use the suspension of disbelief intelligently, so that we find strategic moments to put skepticism aside and allow faith in others, in ourselves and in life to act as a catalyst for more enriching experiences, while at the same time remaining alert to activate doubts when necessary.
References:
Muckler, V. C. et. Al. (2017) Exploring Suspension of Disbelief During Simulation-Based Learning. Clinical Simulation in Nursing; 13(1): 3-9.
Holland, Norman (2008) Spiderman? Sure! The Neuroscience of Disbelief. Interdisciplinary Science Reviews; 33 (4): 312–320.
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