Strong emotions—the ones that amp up adrenaline and cortisol levels—increase our confidence. When we’re angry, for example, we’re more likely to feel certain about whatever position we’ve taken. We’re sure we not only know what we’re talking about, but also that we’re right and any other parties involved are wrong.
This feeling of certainty is an illusion, generated by the amphetamine-like effects of anger, which include kicking our metabolism into a higher gear while narrowing our mental focus. The unconscious part of our brain has a natural tendency to discount anything that doesn’t jibe with what we believe. It already automatically narrows our focus. Adding anger (or actual amphetamines, for that matter) to the mix further constricts our focus, sometimes closing our mind altogether.
When we’re angry, we filter out anything that doesn’t support our position. We focus on one or two aspects of a situation, sometimes taking them entirely out of context, and ignore the rest. Our confidence swells, bolstered by the boost of adrenaline, into over-confidence, even arrogance.
Our brain craves certainty and being right. This can be difficult to compensate for under the best of circumstances. When we’re emotionally aroused, it can be impossible—especially when we don’t recognize what’s going on. We’re used to thinking that the level of confidence we have about something is an accurate indicator of whether or not we’re right about it. Sometimes we are right. But the unconscious part of our brain isn’t concerned with such petty details. It’s less interested in whether we’re actually right and more interested in whether we feel right.
The illusion of certainty can be hard to let go of. Who wants to feel uncertain? Who wants to admit they’re wrong? Who wants to think the powerful sense of confidence they feel isn’t altogether reliable? Too often, we do whatever we can, whatever we have to do, to maintain the illusion of certainty. We refuse to give up the fight, no matter what damage it causes to us or to other people. We’d rather be right than happy. We’d rather be right than free. We’re so addicted to certainty that instead of using our brain, we’re willing to let our brain use us.
Speak for yourself Jocelyn.
Scenario: I lent Jocelyn (not her real name) my favo(u)rite Oscar Peterson CD. She said she would return it on Saturday. Come Monday, I couldn’t find the CD anywhere and I had no recollection of her giving it back to me. I called her.
“Jocelyn, where’s my Peterson CD.”
“Graham, I dropped it through your letter box just after lunch on Saturday.”
“I didn’t see it, and I would have noticed when I picked up this morning’s post.”
“Graham, I can tell you. I did drop your precious CD through your letter box.”
“Oh”.
I immediately think she must be right.
Conversely, if I had borrowed one of her CDs and the scenario had been reversed I would start to question whether I had, in fact, dropped it through her letter box.
Graham,
The only Oscar Peterson CD I have is “Oscar Peterson Trio + One Clark Terry.” I’m not certain how it came into my possession. Maybe you lent it to me. 🙂
Thank you for giving me an opportunity to clarify or expand on this post. The conscious part of our brain can—and does—override the unconscious addiction to certainty. But since overriding our unconscious impulses and inclinations takes effort and energy, we’re less able to do that when conscious attention is already depleted or when we’re in the grip of strong emotions. That’s when we’re more likely to say and do things we later regret. That’s when we’re most likely to be convinced we’re right.
In the scenario you present, you sound miffed rather than angry. You quite rightfully—and consciously—imagine that you could be mistaken. And your Oscar Peterson CD may indeed be precious to you, but you could probably replace it if your friend failed to return it, which is something you’re consciously aware of.
However, if the CD were irreplaceable or if this were the fourth time your friend had borrowed a CD and failed to return it, your reaction would likely be different.
In the meantime, I applaud your cool-headed response in regard to your absent CD. Speaking for myself, I say the world needs a whole lot more of that. And I’m wondering what other Oscar Peterson CDs you would recommend.
Joycelyn (my real name)
I have no Oscar Peterson CDs. I had a couple of those vinyl things, but have no idea where they ventured to. Hopefully that is enough to get me entrance to this comment thread 🙂
So Joycelyn, there will be posts on how to deal with this rather common problem (lost cds not withstanding). Maybe meditation, mindfulness, and a few other gems?
🙂
I agree, Don, anything that enhances awareness helps, including meditation and mindfulness for the long haul and even counting to 10 in the moment. Giving in to righteous indignation can become a habit. Not giving in can also become a habit. Maybe having an “I could be wrong” haiku would be helpful. Something short enough to remember but long enough to give us pause in the heat of the moment.
What do you think?
Maybe one of these will work
take a deep breath
slowly repeat after me
I could be wrong
there is no way
just no way – OK maybe
I could be wrong
I know
what I’m talking about – Well
I could be wrong
I could be wrong
I could be wrong
I could be wrong
Click your heals
three times and repeat
I could be wrong
Don, these are great! I like all of them, especially the first and fourth. I’m going to make a copy and keep it handy. Can I share them?
Feel free to share them. I used your idea as a prompt wrote these this morning for my spontaneous haiku, so they are also posted on my Tumblr blog.
Thank you! 🙂