HOW DO WE UNDERSTAND LANGUAGE?

Understanding language is a funny thing. We start listening before we have even heard anything, with a preset expectation depending on our surroundings; then we hear a stream of sounds which we immediately connect with a set of words in our heads. We know they are significant, especially if they are uttered in the cadences of our own language, or a familiar one. How does that happen? And reading is equally strange – how do we make sense of so many peculiar signs?

Psychologists think that listening to speech is a much older use of language than reading words; evolutionary psychologists suggest that man was making complex noises well before he invented written language, with the corresponding necessity to read.

How do we divide up what we hear into the right words? If you have ever learned another language, you will know that a difficult task for the novice is to learn to tell when one word ends and another begins. It seems to be a constant stream when spoken quickly, without breaks which could give clues as to the word boundaries. Some cues, such as rhythm, are ‘pre-lexical’, meaning that they don’t depend on vocabulary knowledge and recognition. In English, for instance, we often stress the first syllable of each important word, giving the listener a strong clue that a new word has started. Different languages have different rhythmic habits, which give different clues as to word boundaries. Even babies have the ability to pick up patterns in their own native language.

Where syllable stress doesn’t work, however, we may have to rely on ‘lexical knowledge’ – a kind of dictionary in our heads which picks up parts of words and tried to make them into complete ones. Some models of language comprehension suggest that when we hear a part-word, we ‘activate’ in our brains a whole set of words which might fit – for instance, when we hear ‘wh-’, we may instantly trigger ‘what’, ‘why’, ‘where’, and other possible words in our heads. Then, when we hear more of the word, we may get to a point when there is only one possible interpretation. The important thing in these models, is that we are constantly coming up with theories and possibilities, all the way until the point where a word is certain. Some psychologists have come up with computer models to simulate how we activate some words, and inhibit others, in an interactive way (e.g. the TRACE model of McLelland and Elman, 1986).

Reading is different. With reading, we can already see where the words start and end, because there are spaces. The clues we have available include the shapes of letters and groups of letters – so we can build up, ‘bottom-up’, an idea of words from featural cues. However, we are also constantly making assumptions, ‘top-down’, about what words might be. Have you ever seen a road sign and interpreted it, only to discover later that you were wrong about the words? That is your ‘top-down’ assumptions jumping to a conclusion without listening enough to your ‘bottom-up’ perception!

When we read, it seems that we focus on the early part of a sequence – we often fixate at a point around 4 letters into our usual 18-letter reading span. Our vision is only detailed in the middle of our sight (the ‘fovea’), so we prioritize, and choose the earlier information, as it is likely to be more important.

When we read words, we can do it in two ways: all-at-once, or by dividing them up into sections. For example, some children learn to read in whole-word chunks, just by familiarity; and some children learn in word-sections, by trying to build up a rule-based understanding of words. Both ways are equally valid. Coltheart and others incorporated both routes in their ‘dual route’ theory of how we read. It explains why some words are very slow to process – irregular words, for instance, have no rules to hang on to; if, furthermore, a word is rare as well as irregular, then there will be no quick way of either recognizing it or working it out, and we will be slow to respond. Other factors affect how quickly we can respond to words – for instance, we respond faster to words which have a lot of similarly-rhyming words in the same language!

You will notice that words split up into recognizable bits, called ‘morphemes’. These are the basic sounds of a language. Theories vary as to whether we just recognize whole words, or decompose what we see. In 1958, Berko found that children were quite good at adding bits to new words (e.g. ‘s’ for plural), as if they understand rules and can apply them to ‘bits’ of words – this suggests that we all use some ‘decompositional’ functions, not just recognition.

But, in addition to recognition and rules, also influential is whether we expect a particular meaning. There is evidence that we can be ‘prepared’ to interpret words in particular ways, and do not just read with an open mind. Underlying conceptual thinking seems to be always influencing how we interpret what we read. Even so, in the early stages of seeing a word, it may be that ALL possible meanings get triggered initially (autonomous processing). Although there is evidence for this, some psychologists have also found evidence that the context of a sentence, and any dominant meaning, can influence very early word perception.

Finally, we read words in sentences, which are amazingly creative things, full of variety. Here we cannot use recognition all the time, because most sentences are unique. We must use our deeper brain to construct meanings and interpretations. A sentence begins as an unknown, until we begin to be able to assign words to particular roles (i.e. syntax). Some psychologists have assumed that we do this in a carefully sequential way, putting a sentence together in a single ‘best fit so far’ interpretation. But some (e.g. MacDonald et al., 1994) take a different view, and feel that we constantly play with many different possible meanings, treating a sentence a bit like a jigsaw.

What seems clear in all cases, is that, even where there are established rules and understandings, extra clues such as rhythm, pitch and timing make a difference. A word’s frequency of use in a particular context makes a difference. And even the non-verbal environment – the contextual setting outside the words – has been shown to have an effect.

So next time you speak or listen, read or write – just remember how much processing is going into the interpretation of what you produce. With all that energetic computation and theorizing going on, it’s a truly wonderful thing that we understand anyone’s thoughts at all!

INFORMATION AND CONFORMATION

The more I think about it, the more I think that we have missed something in cognitive psychology. We have been obsessed with information processing, as though all information were somehow the same, and as though presentation didn't matter. True, most experimental approaches, and theories, now allow for a degree of influence from format - i.e. we know that HOW something is presented makes a difference to HOW MUCH is retained. But our understanding of memory, particularly long term memory, seems to be inhibited by an inability to move beyond a basic concept of 'information processing'.

The problem has partly, in my view, been caused by the linguistic convention, in psychology, of calling memorizing 'encoding'. This gives us a picture in our minds of a mind soaking up line after line of computer code, as though everything were reducible to some kind of binary, sequential 'code' which is passed into and through our mind like machine code through a computer. However, if we really 'encoded' all incoming signals in this way, then we would find facial recognition an astonishingly difficult task, whereas in fact facial recognition is something we are quite good at from early childhood. There must be something else going on - some other way of processing incoming signals which has little to do with sequential processing, and a lot to do with 'all-at-once' processing.

I believe that the best name for this second type of input is 'conformation'. The idea was inspired several months ago by a visit to a design exhibition (see an earlier blog). A group of designers had considered using the shapes of map routes between locations, as the basis for jewellery. They thought they might then print out the routes in solid material, using a 3D printer, and see what the results looked like. When I heard this idea, I felt that, probably, each route would produce a uniquely recognizable piece of jewellery, with its own character. Somehow, the mind would absorb the 'conformation', without necessarily having to do any sequential coding. In fact, I thought that this type of recognition was so different from traditionally described 'information processing' that the underlying abstract format deserved a different name.

In fact, we can see the basis for these two types of format in traditional models of working memory. Conventional models of how we think still suggest that we use two main slave devices: an articulatory loop, and a visuo-spatial sketchpad. The articulatory loop is what helps us to manage heard speech - it is regarded as largely sequential in nature. This approximates to a main use of the word 'information'. The second slave device, the visuo-spatial sketchpad, is what helps us, for instance, to remember patterns. A good example of these two slave devices in action, is when we input a pin code for a credit card. The articulatory loop can recite the number; the visuo-spatial sketchpad knows the pattern on the keyboard. One manages the information, the other the conformation. Sometimes we can even input our pin number without reciting it to ourselves - merely the sight of the keypad is enough for us, in a flash, to know what we are doing.

Conformational thinking, then, can be incredibly fast, and approximates, in a way, to intuition. It is so fast that it does not rely on conscious, laborious processing, but can spot a 'conformation', a recognizable arrangement of objects or events, at a glance, and identify and react accordingly. In future blogs, I'll probably come back to this, but suffice it to say, for the moment, that this 'rapid recognition device' is, in part, emotionally-driven - we get a 'feeling' that we recognize something. This is important, because, although conformational thinking is very effective in helping us find a way through our surroundings, it can act against us at certain times. If we are emotionally driven, through past traumas, to interpret scenes very quickly in emotionally-enhanced ways, then we can find ourselves 'out of control' in our immediate reactions to events. We see a pattern, and we immediately recognize and react. This type of behaviour is seen in Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It is a useful warning system from our earlier evolution - but we need to return, at these times, to the concept of 'information' to balance ourselves. Cognitive Behavioural Therapists, then, will try to remind traumatised patients of the 'informational' truths of a situation. In this way, clients who are reacting emotionally to 'conformations', causing their minds to run wild with assumptions, can gain better control over their behaviour, by slowing themselves down, and returning to more laborious, serial, 'informational' processing. This is why talking can be good - it uses our articulatory loop (see above), and returns us to a shared, social way of thinking which avoids us 'jumping to conclusions', and 'grounds' us in a more healthy relationship with others.

HOW TO CONTROL YOUR MIND

Have you ever tried to meditate or be peaceful, and wondered why your mind won't stay still and think of one thing? It insists on wandering around on its own path, and then gets stuck in some problem or other, endlessly running round in circles, either trying to find a solution, or replaying scenes and conversations, real or imagined. It tends to focus on the 'problem of the moment', whatever that might be. We would love to settle into calm, but it is often hard to keep the mind in check.

Imagine that your mind is a forest. Like a forest, the mind grows brambles everywhere initially. That is why, if you haven't done any 'forest maintenance' for a while, you get your legs tangled when you go for a walk through your mind. Do you remember, when you were younger, trying to get through difficult bits of forest? The undergrowth was so strong, that your legs got cut and dirty from all the effort, and sometimes you got stuck in a particular place, without a hope of extracting yourself easily!

Now imagine that you can make paths for yourself to walk on, with enough width for comfort, and enough light for pleasure and safety. How can we create such paths in the mind? Meditators know that much of this is a question of habit. You will notice, in forests and even jungles, that animals cut paths with sheer force of habit, along their favourite routes. The mind works in the same way, expecially your long term memory. Where you walk the most, you will wear a path. So be careful! If you are always wearing a path to your worries, and to difficulties, then guess what? That's where your thoughts will go when you release them - down the path of least resistance! If you want your mind, your very own forest, to have pleasant paths full of happiness, then you had better start the long job of creating habits and routines which help your long term memory to establish healthy paths.

Some things are not a question of habit, and we need more than this to make a good forest. Sometimes, a good forest manager will realise that something new needs to happen, a little landscaping, or a new path. At such times, special effort is made to clear the way and shape the future, so that everything flows well. It's the same with your mind: you are the manager, and you must decide where the new big paths must go. But here's a design tip: try to make life easy for yourself! Decide where the best landscapes are, the cleanest streams, the loveliest views - and build your path to them. You can even make a map of your own mind in case you forget where your best paths are. A quick way is to go onto the internet, and choose 10 pictures which inspire you for some reason - you don't have to know why… probably, they represent favourite thoughts. Then, print them out (no larger than 6 or 7 cm wide) and arrange them on the floor in a collage that seems to work for you. It's not a perfect method, but it will get you working with your mind to make some inspiring 'mental maps' or 'mental paths'. You will find your other thoughts will gather around them, like flowers around a flower bed, following your design.

I hope some of this helps with some ideas as to how to get some control over your thoughts. All the best meditators work on this day and night, but everyone can surely do a little work in their forest, and make some nice walks! It just takes a little time, dedication and discipline.

READING POETRY

I recently went to my first 'open mic' poetry event. I had been meaning to go for years, but something, the stalling engine of the unknown, got in the way. This time, I left the house and accepted no excuse from my mind to go back.

The most beautiful thing about the evening was the chance to see and hear other characters, so different, stand and read. Some spoke from memory, their hard-won words burned into their minds like habits. Some read from a lectern in the corner with didactic poise. When it came to my turn, the feeling felt familiar, as though I was with old friends, beside a fire in some Scottish cottage after a hearty dinner. I had no idea what to read, so I had brought along a mini-variety-pack - something loving, something funny, something risky, something thoughtful. Hearing applause was strange, like unexpected rain on an old shed roof.

It felt that I had stepped into a big family of friends all over the country, doing something because they wanted to. If you listen carefully, it's a chance to glimpse a wealth of different lives, all packaged and arranged for you in lines. The stories were so varied: the aftermath of a heart attack; the pleasure and pain of visits to the gym; even a psalm recited. You couldn't ask for more - the pleasure of other's lives presented for you on a plate, to listen to with eyes closed, on a gentle autumn night.

WHY IS MEDITATION GOOD FOR YOU?

I'm sitting in a patisserie in Brighton. The morning sun floods a white light into the wide street. Some people are reading, some talking, some chatting. In a little while, I'll walk up the hill and join the others, to sit in peace and learn a little.

Sometimes I imagine the mind as a little democracy inside a person. When things are going well, when we are busy but not too stressed, then every element works together without too much disharmony. But when something goes wrong - maybe there is not enough food, or an internal imbalance - then the parts of ourselves start to argue and work against each other. This can also happen when things are very quiet - just as too much peace can make a democracy mischievous, so quiet conditions can make parts of the mind start to work against each other. Instead of viewing ourselves as a single individual, perhaps we can view ourselves as a little population of hundreds of different motivations. When there is something to do or achieve, they all work together. When there is nothing to do, they can start to argue a little.

Meditation is a quietening of the mind. So we shouldn't be surprised if, when we are quiet, the different elements of the mind start to talk and argue between one another.

Many meditative traditions focus on discipline. I was reading about some Buddhist methodologies last night, and was surprised at how intricate and detailed some of the systematic approaches were. They all had strange-sounding names, lots of different levels and paths, and a recommended 'order of events' to make sure people developed in the right way. I was puzzled by the dogma, by how prescriptive it seemed to be. I asked a monk, a teacher, why there was so much of it. He suggested that I thought of it, not as a required way, but as a suggested structure.

"A mental model, you mean?"

"Yes, if you like, a mental model."

This I can relate to. We have a lot of models in the scientific tradition - ways to approach truth, but none of them being the truth itself. They are just ways of disciplining ourselves so that we can develop.

I guess that's why some system is helpful in meditation. Without it, we are left to our own resources, and can easily end up in a battle with ourselves, with nothing to keep the internal chatter in harmony. Perhaps the disciplines of meditative traditions are like the rules of a peaceful society - not primarily there to control us, but to enable our parts, our 'inner population', to work together constructively.

I suppose that's why meditation is good for you. It enables you to be at peace when you are quiet. It gives you a way to keep all the elements of your 'internal population' in harmony, even when there is no external need to bind them together. A peaceful integrity.

IF I KEEP A GREEN BOUGH IN MY HEART, THE SINGING BIRD WILL COME

Such a beautiful noise on Wednesday, when a crowd of birds, suddenly and unexpectedly, landed in the garden, and sang as they splashed in the water.

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson

WHY DO PEOPLE HIDE THEIR EMOTIONS?

One of the possible functions of displaying emotion is to signal your underlying state. If you are upset, and signal this to your friends with a quivering lip and a lowered head, then they are more likely to perceive your distress, and comfort you. Equally, if you are happy, and signal this with enthusiasm and hugs, then your group can all gain a bit of wellbeing! There is thus a social incentive to externalize your emotions, whether positive or negative.

But what happens when this goes wrong? Supposing a child receives incongruous signals from a parent at a crucial stage of development. For example, supposing a child shows distress, but is consistently met with indifference. They will learn that there is no benefit in displaying their distress, and may even learn to hide that distress, if the parent is unwelcoming or violent. This teaches, very early on, the art of disguising emotion. It explains why children in such circumstances often grow up with an advanced ability to hide what they are really feeling. There is a disjoin between internal feeling and external display.

This can develop even further. Some theorists believe that even false emotional displays can have a social function. We can see this in group behaviour, where individuals often quickly change adapt their behaviour to match the response of their friends, even if that was not their starting emotion. In effect, they are sacrificing their individual response in order to preserve their group identity.

Where someone has learned early to disguise their emotions, this function of false emotion can be misused acutely in adulthood. Adult life can end up being viewed as essentially a game of poker. Social transactions take on the tensions and tactics of a high-stakes game of cards, where each person is perceived as 'selecting' an external display to match a power play, not a true underlying state. In this world, truthfulness takes second place to strategy, and a sense of intimacy is replaced by an awareness of power.

Thus, an adult can emerge who is not sharing who they are inside, but is constantly positioning themselves for maximum defensive effect. They will be afraid of intimacy, and will regard the concept of 'the truth' as relative, to be adapted to circumstances.

You might recognize this profile in many leading businessmen and politicians! Indeed, there is a growing body of literature suggesting that many in positions of power even have psychopathic tendencies. This makes sense when you think that the ability to disguise emotions, and awareness of power plays, are considered core competencies in these fields, and are simultaneously the very skills enhanced by parental indifference and hostility.

So, sometimes, the internal emotion and the external display become divorced from one another. The result can be an adult who does not make friends, only allies. They find it hard to truly share, because they cannot fully trust another person. Their early experience has programmed them to be two people: the inner feeling, and the external display. And it explains why allies can so quickly turn into enemies… friends can be rejected quickly if they cease to be helpful in terms of external objectives, or if they catch a glimpse of the hidden, vulnerable inner self.

How can we change? Firstly, what is probably helpful is a loving and trusting environment, with a consistently low level of threat, so that the defences become redundant. Once the tactics have no purpose, they may be dropped. And secondly, I think we should admit that we all have a little of this ability in us. Everyone develops some ability to moderate their external displays of emotion, in order to manage situations. The aim is to use these abilities for kind purposes. For example, self-restraint in the interests of other people is a sociable form of display modification. I have had situations this year where I have had to work incredibly hard to be patient and restrained, even though my insides were crying out with a sense of injustice and unfairness! However, despite this need to manage our responses, we must never lose the ability to know our own genuine emotions, and share them with others truthfully. That kind of openness and intimacy is the basis of loving relationships.