Ian McGilchrist is a psychiatrist who has written a book on the two sides of the brain. He contends that the left brain does narrow thinking, whereas the right brain looks at the big picture. On Radio 4 this morning he pointed out a dual task evolution gives birds: trying on the one hand to eat a piece of food, and on the other hand trying to avoid being eaten. The first task needs a narrow, analytical view to solve a given task; the second task needs broader vision, and an understanding that something might 'come from nowhere'.
Philosopher A C Grayling has suggested that the state of brain science is not sufficient to prove the scientific case about the function of each hemisphere. And McGilchrist himself admints that in fact both sides of the brain are involved in most thought in highly complex ways. However, McGilchrist's point, apart from the science, is that western culture has spent too long on narrow, logical analysis, and too little time on wide, imaginitive thought.
The book is called 'The Master and His Emissary'. The name comes from a story in Nietzche's writings, in which a wise master trusts an emissary to help rule his kingdom. The emissary, however, becomes contemptuous of his master, and takes over, only to create a tyranny which eventually collapses. McGilchrists suggests that the 'wide-thinking' master is the right hemisphere, and its somewhat grandiose 'narrow-thinking' emissary the left hemisphere. McGilchrist suggests that the history of ideas in the western world show a struggle between the two 'thought types', with the left hemisphere in danger of successfully, but disastrously, usurping the right.
More info at:
http://iainmcgilchrist.com/index.asp
Monday, November 15, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Do you live in the past, the present or the future?
Present-orientation: the problem of temptation
As psychologist Philip Zimbardo points out, when making a decision, we have three cognitive options. Firstly, we can focus on the past, attending to our memories. Secondly, we can attend to the present, responding to the stimulus of the immediate situation. Thirdly, we can attend to the future, and think about the anticipated consequences.
In the ‘marshmallow experiment’, a study by Walter Mischel, pre-school children (about 4 years old) were offered a dilemma: one treat now, or two treats later. Some children waited for two treats later; whilst others didn’t wait, and took the treat now. Mischel interviewed these 4-year-olds much later, when they were 18. He found that the children who had resisted temptation did better at exams, did better under pressure, and were more confident; whilst those who did not defer gratification were more moody, indecisive and prone to jealousy and envy.
This kind of behaviour is not just something we are born with. Zimbardo argues that outside influences - such as culture, social class, and education - affect such time-related behaviour.
Past, present and future-oriented behaviour
Some people live in the past - for some this is a happy place, and they will value the continuity that memory brings. But for some (e.g. the depressed) memories are negative, and living in the past is a kind of constant repetition of the same negative experiences. People who live in the past can be loyal with a strong sense of identity, but can be change-resistant.
For some the present is for the impulsive gathering of immediate pleasure – the classic person who lives in this way is the hedonist who does not think about consequences. Manifestations may include the party person always surrounded by their friends, or (Zimbardo argues) the gambler who loses their sense of time in a casino without clocks or windows. Present-oriented people tend to seek novelty and immediate stimulation, but have less consistency and self-control, and can be prone to addictions.
For some, the future is so important that they will do tomorrow’s work before they take today’s pleasure – they will defer immediate pleasure for future goals. Future-oriented people tend to be very conscientious and better able to control themselves, but can be overly performance-focused, anxious and socially isolated.
Sustainability
Present-oriented people do not take into account the risks involved in present action. Extreme cases don’t imagine getting caught out in the future for anything they do now. In practice, then, extreme present-orientation is less likely to be sustainable.
In contrast, future-oriented people are more likely to respond to environmental programmes, more likely to save money for the future, less likely to fall prone to addiction – in short, more likely to show many behaviours considered desirable for sustainability of the person or the environment. Statistically, for instance, conscientious people live longer (Kern and Friedman, 2008).
Changing behaviour
Is it possible to generate future-oriented action in present-oriented people? Zimbardo suggests education can help, but only education that engages constructively with present-orientation. With regard to influencing individuals, another psychologist, John Boyd, points out a technique often used by sports psychologists: ‘mental simulation’, where people are led to imagine achieving a near-future goal, and then encouraged to achieve it… and then the time-lag is increased. This seems to be a technique that can cause progressively better planning ability, and deferral of immediate pleasure, in individuals.
But, Zimbardo argues, we must remember that all views are important, and a balance is good: the past view gives you roots, the future view gives you wings to improve your environment, and a present-orientation gives you energy to enjoy, and be creative with, what you have.
To view the full lecture that prompted this article, go to:
http://www.openculture.com/2008/11/the_new_psychology_of_time.html
As psychologist Philip Zimbardo points out, when making a decision, we have three cognitive options. Firstly, we can focus on the past, attending to our memories. Secondly, we can attend to the present, responding to the stimulus of the immediate situation. Thirdly, we can attend to the future, and think about the anticipated consequences.
In the ‘marshmallow experiment’, a study by Walter Mischel, pre-school children (about 4 years old) were offered a dilemma: one treat now, or two treats later. Some children waited for two treats later; whilst others didn’t wait, and took the treat now. Mischel interviewed these 4-year-olds much later, when they were 18. He found that the children who had resisted temptation did better at exams, did better under pressure, and were more confident; whilst those who did not defer gratification were more moody, indecisive and prone to jealousy and envy.
This kind of behaviour is not just something we are born with. Zimbardo argues that outside influences - such as culture, social class, and education - affect such time-related behaviour.
Past, present and future-oriented behaviour
Some people live in the past - for some this is a happy place, and they will value the continuity that memory brings. But for some (e.g. the depressed) memories are negative, and living in the past is a kind of constant repetition of the same negative experiences. People who live in the past can be loyal with a strong sense of identity, but can be change-resistant.
For some the present is for the impulsive gathering of immediate pleasure – the classic person who lives in this way is the hedonist who does not think about consequences. Manifestations may include the party person always surrounded by their friends, or (Zimbardo argues) the gambler who loses their sense of time in a casino without clocks or windows. Present-oriented people tend to seek novelty and immediate stimulation, but have less consistency and self-control, and can be prone to addictions.
For some, the future is so important that they will do tomorrow’s work before they take today’s pleasure – they will defer immediate pleasure for future goals. Future-oriented people tend to be very conscientious and better able to control themselves, but can be overly performance-focused, anxious and socially isolated.
Sustainability
Present-oriented people do not take into account the risks involved in present action. Extreme cases don’t imagine getting caught out in the future for anything they do now. In practice, then, extreme present-orientation is less likely to be sustainable.
In contrast, future-oriented people are more likely to respond to environmental programmes, more likely to save money for the future, less likely to fall prone to addiction – in short, more likely to show many behaviours considered desirable for sustainability of the person or the environment. Statistically, for instance, conscientious people live longer (Kern and Friedman, 2008).
Changing behaviour
Is it possible to generate future-oriented action in present-oriented people? Zimbardo suggests education can help, but only education that engages constructively with present-orientation. With regard to influencing individuals, another psychologist, John Boyd, points out a technique often used by sports psychologists: ‘mental simulation’, where people are led to imagine achieving a near-future goal, and then encouraged to achieve it… and then the time-lag is increased. This seems to be a technique that can cause progressively better planning ability, and deferral of immediate pleasure, in individuals.
But, Zimbardo argues, we must remember that all views are important, and a balance is good: the past view gives you roots, the future view gives you wings to improve your environment, and a present-orientation gives you energy to enjoy, and be creative with, what you have.
To view the full lecture that prompted this article, go to:
http://www.openculture.com/2008/11/the_new_psychology_of_time.html
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Me, I come from my muzza!
Where do you come from?
This morning, a radio journalist asked that question to a group of Ethiopian kids. He was trying to show how the football World Cup had reached every corner of the globe. Some answered with the name of their remote village.
And then one little boy gave such a simple answer.
"And you - where are you from?" asked the journalist, full of professionalism, emphasising our differences.
"Me, I come from my muzza!" said the boy, without hesitation.
"From your mother?"
"Yes!"
Pause.
"A good answer," said the journalist, a little deflated.
A good answer indeed.
This morning, a radio journalist asked that question to a group of Ethiopian kids. He was trying to show how the football World Cup had reached every corner of the globe. Some answered with the name of their remote village.
And then one little boy gave such a simple answer.
"And you - where are you from?" asked the journalist, full of professionalism, emphasising our differences.
"Me, I come from my muzza!" said the boy, without hesitation.
"From your mother?"
"Yes!"
Pause.
"A good answer," said the journalist, a little deflated.
A good answer indeed.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Have a little faith
I often wake to the radio and a cup of tea. This morning, to the background of the song 'Have a Little Faith', author Mitch Albom told a story. It was the story of how he had come to speak at the funeral of a rabbi.
Albert Lewis had been the rabbi at his local synagogue when he was a child, but Mitch wasn't particularly religious any more. But he was honoured when the rabbi, at 82 years old, asked him to write a eulogy for his funeral. In the coming years, he often spent time with the rabbi, in order to have the right things to say when the time came.
When the rabbi finally died - later than expected at around 90 years old - Mitch had to rush to the funeral to get there on time. He could not collect all the prepared notes he had made. But he found, strangely enough, that, by heart, he was able to give the speech that the rabbi would have wanted.
Perhaps the rabbi knew, in some way, that asking Mitch to write the eulogy would have that effect - to instil into Mitch's heart something of faith, through listening, through observing. Whatever the case, I'd say it was a 'wise event', and so beautiful.
Albert Lewis had been the rabbi at his local synagogue when he was a child, but Mitch wasn't particularly religious any more. But he was honoured when the rabbi, at 82 years old, asked him to write a eulogy for his funeral. In the coming years, he often spent time with the rabbi, in order to have the right things to say when the time came.
When the rabbi finally died - later than expected at around 90 years old - Mitch had to rush to the funeral to get there on time. He could not collect all the prepared notes he had made. But he found, strangely enough, that, by heart, he was able to give the speech that the rabbi would have wanted.
Perhaps the rabbi knew, in some way, that asking Mitch to write the eulogy would have that effect - to instil into Mitch's heart something of faith, through listening, through observing. Whatever the case, I'd say it was a 'wise event', and so beautiful.
Friday, May 28, 2010
FREE TIME STRESS
On Radio 4 this morning, they were discussing 'free time stress'. Apparently there is a new German term, 'Freizeitstresse', to describe the generally-felt inability to switch off; and around 75% of the German population have difficulty enjoying free time in a stress-free way.
How do we get rid of that awful feeling that we 'should' be 'doing' something? Why do we often feel as though we have to report back our lives to other people? And why is it so hard to shut out the demands of the world?
I think there are three things going on here:
Firstly, we are dependent on feedback from others for our sense of identity. A workaholic gains constant reinforcement of their identity by always working; when they stop, they get scared, because there is no reinforcement, so they don't know who they are. Whatever we do most of the time, there is our identity. When we stop, we can find it painful, because there is no context telling us who we are. In that sense, we actually find demands quite comforting, because they give us an identity as 'the person fulfilling the demands'. And in that sense, not having demands can lead to a temporary loss of identity. Many people feel happy again when they 'get back into the swing of things', i.e. their usual routine, because it gives them a place in the world.
Secondly, many of us live in an environment where anyone can contact us at any time - we are 'hyper-connected'. We are not sitting in villages waiting for the next letter to be brought over the hill by horses. We have instant messaging. The faster we can communicate, the more we do so. Therefore, even though we may take 'time out', our context follows us into our personal space, and haunts us there.
Thirdly, we have a natural preference to 'answer the external' and 'ignore the internal'. The 'external' is all the urgent requests we receive for action, all our obligations to others, perceived or real. Because they feel more real, we give them more status than our obligations to ourselves (i.e. to rest sometimes, to do nothing sometimes). And if we are always answering messages, always making things right for others, we will never have time for our own priorities.
So maybe there are three things we can do:
1. Be comfortable with doing nothing useful. When we are dead, our bodies will be doing nothing for ever. So a bit of practice seems reasonable. And back in the womb, our job was to do nothing and grow. So a bit of nostalgia sounds reasonable. (That's why some of us love baths, maybe!) It is actually part of our justifiable identity to mess about sometimes, without trying to achieve anything in particular. Just to play. We need it.
2. Turn the world off sometimes. If your mobile was a person, they would be very rude to interrupt you with such noises all the time. Keep your need for contact to a manageable minimum, and go for a walk, or a swim, or a sunbathe, or to the sea... just disappear!
3. Treat your 'appointments with yourself' as equal in importance to your 'appointments with the world'. When we have meetings, why do they have to be with other people? If it's important to get time for you, you can book it in the diary and say 'I have a meeting'. You mean that you have a meeting with yourself.
In summary, we need to create a relaxed identity, turn the world off sometimes, and value ourselves. Then maybe free time can be more of a pleasure.
And if none of that works, we can turn to friends. Because that's what friends are for - to relax with, to distract us, and to give us a value independent of the busy, demanding world we live in.
How do we get rid of that awful feeling that we 'should' be 'doing' something? Why do we often feel as though we have to report back our lives to other people? And why is it so hard to shut out the demands of the world?
I think there are three things going on here:
Firstly, we are dependent on feedback from others for our sense of identity. A workaholic gains constant reinforcement of their identity by always working; when they stop, they get scared, because there is no reinforcement, so they don't know who they are. Whatever we do most of the time, there is our identity. When we stop, we can find it painful, because there is no context telling us who we are. In that sense, we actually find demands quite comforting, because they give us an identity as 'the person fulfilling the demands'. And in that sense, not having demands can lead to a temporary loss of identity. Many people feel happy again when they 'get back into the swing of things', i.e. their usual routine, because it gives them a place in the world.
Secondly, many of us live in an environment where anyone can contact us at any time - we are 'hyper-connected'. We are not sitting in villages waiting for the next letter to be brought over the hill by horses. We have instant messaging. The faster we can communicate, the more we do so. Therefore, even though we may take 'time out', our context follows us into our personal space, and haunts us there.
Thirdly, we have a natural preference to 'answer the external' and 'ignore the internal'. The 'external' is all the urgent requests we receive for action, all our obligations to others, perceived or real. Because they feel more real, we give them more status than our obligations to ourselves (i.e. to rest sometimes, to do nothing sometimes). And if we are always answering messages, always making things right for others, we will never have time for our own priorities.
So maybe there are three things we can do:
1. Be comfortable with doing nothing useful. When we are dead, our bodies will be doing nothing for ever. So a bit of practice seems reasonable. And back in the womb, our job was to do nothing and grow. So a bit of nostalgia sounds reasonable. (That's why some of us love baths, maybe!) It is actually part of our justifiable identity to mess about sometimes, without trying to achieve anything in particular. Just to play. We need it.
2. Turn the world off sometimes. If your mobile was a person, they would be very rude to interrupt you with such noises all the time. Keep your need for contact to a manageable minimum, and go for a walk, or a swim, or a sunbathe, or to the sea... just disappear!
3. Treat your 'appointments with yourself' as equal in importance to your 'appointments with the world'. When we have meetings, why do they have to be with other people? If it's important to get time for you, you can book it in the diary and say 'I have a meeting'. You mean that you have a meeting with yourself.
In summary, we need to create a relaxed identity, turn the world off sometimes, and value ourselves. Then maybe free time can be more of a pleasure.
And if none of that works, we can turn to friends. Because that's what friends are for - to relax with, to distract us, and to give us a value independent of the busy, demanding world we live in.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
What's a monster?
Yesterday's Daily Mail (the fountain of al knowledge, obviously) had a headline 'Artificial Life Created In Lab'. The story is that a team led by billionaire Craig Venter has created a synthetic cell 'from scratch' (well, he copied the DNA from a bug). The commentary on page 4 was entitled 'Has he created a monster?'
What does 'monster' mean? It's often used nowadays, especially in the press, to indicate one or more of the following:
1. I don't understand it
2. It's nothing to do with me
3. It's out of my control
4. It threatens me
When the press describe a person as a monster, they are suggesting that they are not quite human, not as we know it. The result, if we call a person a monster, is:
1. We don't have to understand the person fully
2. We don't have to take responsibility for the person or their condition
3. We don't have to try to influence the person's actions for the better
4. We have the right to hurt or diminish this person to defend ourselves
Those last four points describe the attitude of Daily Mail journalism quite well, don't you think?
What does 'monster' mean? It's often used nowadays, especially in the press, to indicate one or more of the following:
1. I don't understand it
2. It's nothing to do with me
3. It's out of my control
4. It threatens me
When the press describe a person as a monster, they are suggesting that they are not quite human, not as we know it. The result, if we call a person a monster, is:
1. We don't have to understand the person fully
2. We don't have to take responsibility for the person or their condition
3. We don't have to try to influence the person's actions for the better
4. We have the right to hurt or diminish this person to defend ourselves
Those last four points describe the attitude of Daily Mail journalism quite well, don't you think?
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Sharing money and blood supplies
Greece is in danger of defaulting on its debt. Because Greece uses the Euro, Greece's danger is, in part, passed on to other countries using the same currency. The big problem with Europe's strategy of strength in numbers, is that it causes the corresponding weakness of inflexibility.
To give a strange example: supposing my friends and I decided to unify our bodies into one. The advantages would include the free flow of blood across individual boundaries. If one friend is short of a nutrient, another can make a contribution. But what if one friend gets an infection? Because we have got rid of our individual skins, we no longer have control over how rapidly an illness affects us all. One friend cannot run to the shops for medicine while the other gets some rest.
And this is the climate of Europe for the moment. Whether Greece's illness becomes Ireland's, and then Portugal's, and leaks across Europe, remains to be seen. What is certain, is that it is hard for stronger economic powers, such as Germany, to avoid being bound up in their neighbour's struggle; Chancellor Merkel may appear reluctant to commit to too much financial help for Greece, but, if part of a body is infected, the rest of the body is already committed to a fight.
To give a strange example: supposing my friends and I decided to unify our bodies into one. The advantages would include the free flow of blood across individual boundaries. If one friend is short of a nutrient, another can make a contribution. But what if one friend gets an infection? Because we have got rid of our individual skins, we no longer have control over how rapidly an illness affects us all. One friend cannot run to the shops for medicine while the other gets some rest.
And this is the climate of Europe for the moment. Whether Greece's illness becomes Ireland's, and then Portugal's, and leaks across Europe, remains to be seen. What is certain, is that it is hard for stronger economic powers, such as Germany, to avoid being bound up in their neighbour's struggle; Chancellor Merkel may appear reluctant to commit to too much financial help for Greece, but, if part of a body is infected, the rest of the body is already committed to a fight.
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