What is Naturalistic Decision Making?
A brief overview of the field that convinced me biases don't matter
Jared Peterson was trained in behavioral economics but grew disillusioned with its sandbox version of rationality and human nature. At ShadowBox, he studies and trains cognitive expertise in complex, uncertain, and high-stakes settings. Through his Substack, A Failure to Disagree, he challenges psychology’s dominant narratives in hopes of provoking discussions that will redefine the field.
The origins of Naturalistic Decision-Making
In 1985, the US military wanted to understand how to train decision-making when they ran into an little snafu; the literature on the topic was useless.
Imagine you are in a complicated battlefield situation, and you have to use Bayesian Decision Theory to calculate the best course of action in the next 2 minutes. Good luck!
Based on experience (and a bit of common sense) the military concluded that real-world decision-making couldn’t work like the slow and cognitively taxing theories that were so popular in academia. But the alternative wasn’t clear either. If great generals and tacticians weren’t using these academic models, how were they still making such high quality decisions under extreme uncertainty and time pressure?
The Army decided to fund research into decision-making in quick paced and highly uncertain domains to find out. One of the teams that won the contract was led by Gary Klein.1
Klein’s team knew they wanted to study experts in real world conditions outside of the lab, but tagging along with the army on the battlefield was out of the question. They needed a population of experts they could study that wouldn’t put their lives at risk. They decided on firefighters. Not only were firefighters experts in quick decision-making, they also had the advantage of lots of down time at the station between the fires when they could be interviewed. They seemed like the perfect subjects.
But during the very first interview with a firefighter, not even a real interview but a practice one, they ran into their own little snafu. Klein recounts the conversation:
I said, “We’re here to study how you make decisions, tough decisions.”
He looked at me, and there was a certain look of not exactly contempt, but sort of condescension, I would say at least, and he said, “I’ve been a firefighter for 16 years now. I’ve been a captain, commander for 12 years, and all that time I can’t think of a single decision I ever made.”
“What?”
“I don’t remember ever making a decision.”
“How can that be? How do you know what to do?”
“It’s just procedures, you just follow the procedures.”
My heart sank, because we had just gotten the funding to do this study, and this guy is telling me they never make decisions. So right off the bat we were in big trouble. Before I finished with him, before I walked out, I asked him, “Can I see the procedure manuals?”
Because I figured maybe there’s something in the procedure manuals that I could use to give me an idea of where to go next. He looked at me again with the same feeling of sort of condescension, (obviously I didn’t know that much about their work) and he said,
“It’s not written down. You just know.”
There are many moments one could choose as the birth of Naturalistic Decision-Making, but I would nominate this conversation. It was the first major insight into how experts make decisions in naturalistic settings; to them, it doesn’t feel like a decision at all.
Klein’s team had assumed firefighting would be so quick paced that firefighters would deliberate between maybe only 2-3 options at most. But instead they found they didn’t deliberate between any. Which isn’t to say what they did was easy, as they still regularly ran into situations where they didn’t know what to do. But the “generate and compare options” paradigm that academia taught wasn’t how real world decision-making happened.
Around the same time, other researchers in similarly high stake domains were discovering the same thing. In 1989, these researchers gathered in Dayton, Ohio not realizing what they were staring. At that first conference, they hadn’t yet conceptualized themselves as a distinct field of study, and they certainly didn’t have a name. But at that conference a few themes emerged
They were interested in complex, real-world (naturalistic) environments characterized by time pressure, uncertainty, ill-defined goals, high personal stakes, and other intricacies. Fields like firefighting, law enforcement, tactical decision-making, medicine, aerospace, etc.
They were interested in experienced experts who consistently performed well despite complexity. Not novices, and certainly not undergrads.
How people made sense of situations often mattered more than deliberating over predefined options.
The third theme stands out a little. While the first two themes identify similarities in what and who they studied, the third was more an insight that many of them had independently discovered, and which Klein had started to pull the string on in that initial practice interview with the fire commander.
Later, the field was christened Naturalistic Decision Making (NDM). That Dayton meeting was just the first of many.
How to make a decision without deciding
It wasn’t just that one fire commander who didn’t make decisions; they all said the same thing. The researchers actually stopped using the word “decision” and started asking about “tough cases” just so they wouldn’t have to retread the same ground over and over again. Later this approach of asking about tough cases got systemized into the Cognitive Task Analysis (CTA) method, which we still use today.
What this proto-CTA helped reveal was that when the firefighters insisted they didn’t make decisions, what they meant was that they were not deliberating between options. Instead, the situation itself implied what to do.
Consider a fictional Search-and-Rescue (SAR) story about a missing hiker.
At first, the SAR team assumes he took a wrong turn, and so they bring dogs to each junction on the trail to see if they can pick up a scent where he might have gone astray. But the dogs pick up no scent.
Next, they assume he went off train for a shortcut. They search along the sides of the trail, looking for broken branches and footprints on the edges of the trail, but still nothing.
At this point, they start to question whether he was ever on the trail in the first place. They talk to the family, and his mother says something interesting, “I don’t understand how he got lost, he just got a new GPS watch. We tested it the other day.”
Ah. Well if he was testing a GPS, he probably wouldn’t have entered the trail at all! The SAR team tries a new search pattern, looking at straight line routes between the start and end points of the trail. And along one such straight line route, they find him. Stuck in a ditch and unable to move.
What I like about this story is that each theory implies how to search: wrong turn → check junctions; shortcut → check trail edges; direct navigation → follow straight lines. The challenge isn’t figuring out which search technique to use. That is always obvious because how he got lost implies the way to search. Instead, the difficulty is in understanding how he got lost in the first place. In other words, and to paraphrase that third theme, the ways in which the SAR team made sense of how the hiker got lost exerted greater influence on their actions than did deliberation over a set of predefined options.
While I do not want to diminish the expertise of SAR teams, I use that domain as an example because it is intuitive to even non-experts. There is an “if X, then Y” relationship between the situation and the action to take. Of course, in many complex domains the relationship between “X” and “Y” is much less obvious. And even knowing the right questions and actions to take to figure out which “X” situation you are in requires quite a bit of experience. But this dynamic is why it feels like protocol instead of decision-making.
Klein’s team formalized this in the Recognition-Primed Decision (RPD) model which explains how recognition of the situation primes the appropriate action. The RPD model has become the dominant way to understand decision-making among experts across every highly uncertain and quick paced domain you can think of. If you want to know more, you can read my essay on the RPD model here, or the original (updated) article here.
Flawed intuitions
Kahneman and Tversky may be more familiar names than Klein, and readers may notice a tension between these thinkers. And indeed there is. The Heuristics and Biases (HB) programme that Kahneman and Tversky founded was based on the idea that intuition is riddled with systemic errors that they called biases. These biases are so persistent that Kahneman doubted they could be mitigated, and he instead preferred to replace humans with algorithms where possible.
As you may imagine, this is the exact opposite of Klein who is fascinated by stories of experts doing amazing things. Consider a famous story that Klein likes to recount.
During an interview a firefighter claimed to have ESP, and Gary asked him to tell him why he thought he had this paranormal ability. The firefighter recounted a situation he couldn’t explain. During the incident in question, they were in a burning house when he got a bad feeling. He didn’t know why he had the bad feeling, but it was strong enough for him to act. He ordered his crew out of the building, not knowing exactly why he gave the order.
As soon as he and the team were out of the building, the building collapsed. Turns out the fire was in the basement (which they hadn’t known about).
To get to the bottom of the story, Klein used the CTA interview method and drilled down into the details of the situation. He was able to help the firefighter to recount various anomalies that he had identified during the course of the incident which had triggered the bad feeling; a fire that was too hot, too quiet, and not as responsive as it should be. While each anomaly wasn’t enough to trigger his conscious mind to realize where the fire was, it was enough to make him doubt that he understood the situation fully, or perhaps to recognize the signs of a fire that was beneath him rather than in front him (it is difficult to know which). Through this subconscious detection of important cues, he was able to intuit the danger of the situation. No ESP required.
This is not the only incident where an expert in a domain came to believe they had ESP. Experts often struggle to explain what they do because so much of what they know and do is tacit. We have heard terms like sixth sense, spidey sense, or even magic as experts try to explain what they do. Mostly these terms are used tongue in cheek, but some do come to believe there is something mystical happening due to the difficulty of explaining their own tacit knowledge.
So how do we square this circle? How do we make sense of intuition that is so brilliant that it seems like ESP, and at the same time make sense of intuition so flawed that finding those flaws led to Kahneman’s Nobel Prize?
That was the question that Kahneman and Klein set out to solve when they decided to collaborate on a paper.
Kahneman had long been an advocate of “adversarial collaborations” between researchers who disagreed. He has done a few over the years, but the one he did with Klein he described as his “most satisfying.” It took them 6 years to write their paper, and many hoped they would fail (such was and is the bad blood between the two fields). But fortunately for all of us the two got along famously, and ended up writing “Conditions for intuitive expertise: a failure to disagree”. The very paper which inspired the name for this Substack.
Klein has always disliked the name of this paper because they actually disagreed quite a bit! But nevertheless, they did agree on some basic facts which they summarize at the end of their paper, and which I will try to summarize in one sentence;
Intuition starts flawed, but can be trained to be adaptive in environments with high reliability and rapid feedback.
The reason Kahneman and Tversky found so many flaws is that they were focused on non-experts (undergrads) in artificial and novel domains (a lab experiment). In situations like that, the subjects don’t have time to develop expert intuition. Conversely, Klein’s subjects had decades of experience and training, and so their intuition was highly adapted to their domain.
Despite this ‘failure to disagree’, the fields to this day are in tension. NDM researchers believe the post-hoc analysis of biases so common among HB research can be extremely damaging as it often dismisses the very intuition that enables experts to succeed in the first place. Meanwhile, HB researchers view NDM with skepticism due to its emphasis on its qualitative methodologies, and its rejection of the more systematic approaches that HB tends to prescribe.
The two ended their article with an invitation that has yet to be fulfilled: “[Daniel Kahneman] is still fascinated by persistent errors, and [Gary Klein] still recoils when biases are mentioned. We hope, however, that our effort may help others do more than we have been able to do in bringing the insights of both communities to bear on their common subject.”
So what is expertise?
A common misperception is that expertise is just pattern matching and intuition (“System 1”). But that is too simple a story. A pattern that is relevant in one situation may not be relevant in another. The heat and loudness of the fire, the position of a rook relative to a castle, the way a victim carefully words what they say…these patterns are only relevant in certain contexts.
Another important thing to note is that even though it’s not transferable, expertise is adaptive. What I mean by that is that expertise in, say, Chess, does not transfer to Go, but it does adapt to novel chess boards a grandmaster has never seen before. This also cannot be explained by a story of simple pattern matching.
I think of it this way; there is not a library of pre-existing patterns the expert is trying to match to, but instead, the expert’s mental model of the situation helps to generate patterns to look for. So the key to expertise is not primarily the pattern matching, but the effective mental models and mental simulation that allow the expert to predict the patterns they should see, as well as to notice when things are not developing as they expected.
There is a bit of circularity here that is worth pointing out; the situational understanding shapes the patterns the expert looks for, but the patterns they notice shape their understanding. It seems like you can’t know what is relevant until you know what is happening, and you can’t know what is happening until you identify what is relevant. This relevance realization problem—knowing what matters before you know what’s happening, and vice versa—is, to me, the heart of expertise.
How do experts develop this ability? The easy answer is “through experience,” which is correct but incomplete. Sometimes someone with years of experience can still be a dunce. It has to be the type of experience that helps to build up one’s mental model of the situation. That requires an active mindset where they wrestle, think through, and predict, all while getting feedback, whether real or simulated. True experts are constantly pushing themselves in ways that others do not.
Conclusion
What I have covered here is rather paltry compared to the richness and depth of NDM. The field has covered so many fascinating domains, from astronauts, to fighter pilots, to military. I also said very little about CTA, and didn’t even mention some of the most important theories such as the Data-Frame Theory of Sensemaking and Macrocognition.
But hopefully what I HAVE said is enough to at least intrigue those who are unfamiliar. I personally think NDM is the most important work happening with regard to how humans actually make decisions, and so it is important from both a theoretical and applied point of view. I wish more people would dig and discover its depths!
However, I have said a lot. So I will end with a final thought from Daniel Kahneman.
“Klein and I disagree on many things. In particular, I believe he is somewhat biased in favor of raw intuition, and he dislikes the very word “bias.” But I am convinced that there should be more psychologists like him, and that the art and science of observing behavior should have a larger place in our thinking and in our curricula than it does at present.”
Disclaimer: Gary is one of my bosses at ShadowBox.
Interesting. If you don't mind noise from behind the curve, as I read that I often thought of fundamentals, aka basics. Heat rises, fire needs oxygen, and however a backdraft works. Pilots have equivalents: air pressure is less around a curved (longer) surface than a straight (shorter) one, and this works vertically and horizontally. Triage doctors have to know fundamentals about the body and trauma types and such. Auto repair, HVAC repair, etc, every true expert knows the fundamentals well, while self-proclaimed or academic "experts" might barely know them at all.
When you know the fundamental facts and principles, a situation will speak to you in ways that might be missed by someone merely choosing options.
And I suppose that if you've learned them long ago, you might unconsciously back-burner them in the adrenaline chaos of a burning building. They should be the reason Klein and the firefighter were able to piece together retrospectively how his "ESP" worked. It seems to me that if the firefighter had merely been weighing options, he might not have guessed right to get out of there, or even if he did, he wouldn't have been much use in figuring out the "ESP".
EDIT: fixed a stupid oops.
Interesting essay. Is this the start of a series?