Mind Archives - Page 11 of 31

Answers to the Memory Quiz

September 15, 2016 by Joycelyn Campbell Leave a Comment

Here are the answers to yesterday’s Memory Quiz. It’s important to bear in mind that no one is immune from widespread memory distortions. We integrate things that really happened with things that are generally true. The only way you can confirm whether or not a memory is true is to obtain corroborating evidence. In many cases, that isn’t possible; so you can rarely have complete certainty.

The more confident you feel about a memory, the more likely it is to be factual.
False
Confidence is a feeling. Your level of confidence bears no direct relationship to the accuracy of your memory. You can feel as confident about a false memory as you do about a real one.
–
False memories are rare occurrences.
False
False memories are not uncommon. They can be induced intentionally or accidentally. We all have them, so when someone claims a false memory as a true one, we shouldn’t automatically assume that person is lying.
–
You remember the things that have a strong emotional component.
True
Strong emotion—positive or negative—is one of the criteria your brain uses to decide that something is worth storing in long-term memory.
–
The more details you recall, the more likely it is that a particular memory is accurate and/or true.
False
The amount of detail associated with a memory is unrelated to its accuracy. A false memory can have a great amount of detail associated with it. Your brain can’t tell the difference.
–
The more often you recall a memory, the more opportunities you have to alter it.
True
Every time you recall a memory, you put it into a “plastic” state, thereby exposing it to disruption and alteration. You reconstruct it when recalling it and again when storing it.
–
Something you’re really interested in is more likely to be stored in your long-term memory than something you’re not interested in.
True
You can remember all kinds of things that might be inconsequential to other people (sports statistics, song lyrics, movie plots, your grades) if those things are important to you.
–
You tend to recall so-called flashbulb memories—extremely vivid, powerful, and significant memories—with greater accuracy.
False
You may believe you have greater recall of flashbulb memories—that they’re somehow indelibly imprinted in your brain—but lots and lots of evidence indicates that the details you recall about such incidents are no more accurate than the details you recall about anything else.
–
The best way to get accurate information from people is to ask them open-ended questions.
True
If you ask people closed—or leading—questions (What color was her hair? or Wasn’t she a brunette?) you’re more likely to get incorrect answers. So it’s best to ask fewer questions and allow people to relate the story in their own way.
–
A confession is a reliable indication of culpability because people rarely confess to crimes they didn’t commit.
False
There are numerous examples demonstrating that the techniques used by law enforcement to induce confessions are very successful in getting people to not only confess to crimes they didn’t commit, but also to come to believe they did, in fact, commit them.
–
When you try to suppress a specific memory, you’re likely to develop other memory deficits that seem unrelated.
True
The system for targeting memory suppression has been described as “kind of dumb.” When you try to suppress a particular memory, you’re likely to end up suppressing associated memories, too.
–
Your recollection of a memory can be influenced and altered based on the circumstances you’re in when you recall it.
True
Where you are, who you’re with, how you feel, the state of your mood (and mind), how long ago the event occurred—all of those things and many more can affect your recollection of your memory. We also edit our memories, without being aware we’re doing so, to reflect our current beliefs and biases.
–
Eyewitness testimony is reliable.
False
Eyewitness testimony is reliably unreliable for many reasons. For one, if you’re the eyewitness, the memory of the event is part of your autobiographical memory and subject to all the same distortions. For another, what you recall will be, in part, determined by the questions you’re asked and the way they’re asked.
–
You don’t remember much from before the age of three because your brain hadn’t yet learned how to encode long-term memories.
True
It isn’t until around age seven that concepts critical to the storage of long-term memories (including using a calendar, understanding the days of the week and seasons, and developing a sense of self) have been learned.
–
You have equal recall of the beginnings, middles, and endings of what you remember.
False
You have better recall of beginnings and endings—especially of endings—than you do of what happened in the middle. You’re likely to base your feelings about an event on how it ended.
–
There is no evidence for repressed memory.
True
The idea behind the concept of repressed memory is that traumatic memories are automatically banished to the unconscious and “forgotten.” But the reality is that, with some exceptions, traumatic memories are more likely to be remembered than to be forgotten because remembering them is important to our survival.
–
Mindfulness meditation may make you more susceptible to developing false memories.
True
Mindfulness can lead to confusion about the source of a memory: did it actually happen to you or did you imagine it happening? Misattributing the source of a memory is the basis for the development of false memories.

How did you do?

Take the Memory Quiz

September 14, 2016 by Joycelyn Campbell 1 Comment

Here’s a quiz you can take to find out how much you know about making and accessing memories. Daniel Schacter, author of The Seven Sins of Memory, contends that the problems we experience with memory are “by-products” of adaptive and useful aspects of the human mind. If we can better understand how memory works and what its purpose is, we can better appreciate the process of memory-making. That might help us avoid getting into arguments with other people based on whose memories are right and whose are wrong. To a great extent, they’re all wrong.

Check in tomorrow for the answers.

The more confident you feel about a memory, the more likely it is to be factual. [–] True [–] False
–
False memories are rare occurrences. [–] True [–] False
–
You remember the things that have a strong emotional component. [–] True [–] False
–
The more details you recall, the more likely it is that a particular memory is accurate and/or true. [–] True [–] False
–
The more often you recall a memory, the more opportunities you have to alter it. [–] True [–] False
–
Something you’re really interested in is more likely to be stored in your long-term memory than something you’re not interested in. [–] True [–] False
–
You tend to recall so-called flashbulb memories—extremely vivid, powerful, and significant memories—with greater accuracy. [–] True
[–] False
–
The best way to get accurate information from people is to ask them open-ended questions. [–] True [–] False
–
A confession is a reliable indication of culpability because people rarely confess to crimes they didn’t commit.[–] True [–] False
–
When you try to suppress a specific memory, you’re likely to develop other memory deficits that seem unrelated. [–] True [–] False
–
Your recollection of a memory can be influenced and altered based on the circumstances you’re in when you recall it. [–] True [–] False
–
Eyewitness testimony is reliable. [–] True [–] False
–
You don’t remember much from before the age of three because your brain hadn’t yet learned how to encode long-term memories. [–] True [–] False
–
You have equal recall of the beginnings, middles, and endings of what you remember. [–] True [–] False
–
There is no evidence for repressed memory. [–] True [–] False
–
Mindfulness meditation may make you more susceptible to developing false memories. [–] True [–] False

Benefits, Celebrations, and Rewards

August 10, 2016 by Joycelyn Campbell Leave a Comment

Your brain is wired for survival—survival, that is, in the rough and tumble world of the savanna your ancestors roamed 2.5 million years ago. Part of the wiring for survival includes the reward pathway, the purpose of which is to help you remember and repeat activities that are good for you and remember and avoid activities that are bad—possibly even deadly.

Every cell in our brains—every moment of our mental lives—is intimately connected to entire history of life on this planet. —Ferris Jabr, Scientific American

As a case in point, the reward pathway is even older than we are; it evolved in worms and flies about a billion years ago.

Your brain’s reward system operates with or without your participation, which is why you can develop habits you don’t want to have that may be extremely difficult to change or stop. The most effective way to alter those habits, or any behavior you would like to change, is to make use of the reward system.

But maybe you think you don’t—or shouldn’t—need to reward yourself for doing what you want to do or what’s in your own best interest. Maybe you believe knowing what you want to do, why you want to do it, and how to do it is sufficient. You’re an adult, right? You have self-discipline and self-control. Or you can develop it. Rewards might be OK for young children. Or pets. But you don’t need them.

If that’s where you’re coming from, well, science does not support your position. It turns out all of us are hardwired to be “insatiable wanting machines.” If we don’t learn how to use the brain’s reward system, it will continue using us.

Gold Stars

I hand out a page of stickers to the clients in my Goals, Habits & Intentions course, and the reactions are always interesting. Some people love them and immediately figure out how to use them as rewards. Others hold onto them for weeks, wondering what to do with them. (“Why do I have these?”) Some have no problem connecting awarding themselves a sticker with getting a reward. Others go through the motions without making that connection.

Stars and stickers are obviously only one type of reward, but they’re easy to get and use and can provide a strong visual reinforcement, as I recently rediscovered.

There are four things I do early in the day and again near the end of the day. I can’t turn them into a routine for various reasons, so that’s not an option. They’re all things I want to do. No one told me I have to or should do them. But in the moment, at any given time, the unconscious part of the brain, which is focused on immediate gratification, can almost always find something more interesting or enjoyable for me to do.

I noticed that a lot of my self-talk was taken up with prevaricating about doing one or more of the four things. Should I do it now or later? OK, I’ll do it after [fill in the blank]. And as the day progressed, it would get easier and easier to not do something and then rationalize as to why that was acceptable. I was using a lot of conscious attention and getting mediocre results. Although I was doing these four things twice a day most of the time, I don’t want to do them most of the time. I want to do them all of the time.

Knowing what I know about how the brain works, I mentally slapped myself upside the head and got out a sheet of small but sparkly gold stars. I decided I would reward myself with one gold star after completing the four things in the morning and a second gold star when I completed them again at the end of the day. I apply the stickers to the small wall calendar in my bathroom where I also keep track of how much walking I do each day.

Instituting the gold star system has had two significant results:

I have had zero incompletions, meaning I’ve been able to award myself all the gold stars I’ve been eligible to receive.
My self-talk now serves to remind me what I have yet to do before I can get the next gold star. So instead of dithering about whether or not to do it, my self-talk serves to keep me on track.

My brain anticipates the dopamine hit I’m going to get from slapping that sticker on the calendar. And instead of having to make excuses for myself for why I haven’t done something, I get to acknowledge and enjoy the fact that I’m actually doing what I want to do.

Benefits Are Not Rewards

A benefit is something that is advantageous or good. Benefits can be short-term or long-term. They result from actions you take. (Of course, you can also benefit from actions other people take or from fortunate changes in circumstances, but you have no direct control over those things.)

If there were no benefit to you for embarking on a particular course of action (completing a project or goal action plan, changing or starting a habit, or following through on an intention), there would be no point in doing it. Benefits answer the question of why you want to do something. So it’s useful to clearly identify all the benefits that would—or could—accrue if you accomplish what you set out to do.

But a benefit is not a reward. I get a different benefit from each of the four things I do as well as a general well-being type of benefit from doing all of them. One of the four things is a series of stretches that takes five minutes or so. The short-term benefit is I feel good during and after doing them. The long-term benefit is I’m more flexible and have less back and shoulder tension. I have to do the stretches consistently in order to get the long-term benefit. Giving myself a reward each time I do them helps me be consistent.

I already knew what the benefits were before I began using the gold stars, but that kind of knowledge has no impact on the brain’s reward system. Knowing the benefit of doing something takes place in the conscious part of the brain; the reward system operates at the unconscious level of the brain (remember the worms and flies?). The reward system isn’t logical; it’s functional.

Celebrations Aren’t Rewards, Either

In behavior-change terms, a celebration is an impromptu acknowledgement of something you’ve accomplished. The difference between a reward and a celebration is in how you use it, not what it is. In order for something to be effective as a reward, you need to crave it. That’s because dopamine is triggered by the expectation of a reward. So in order for you—and your brain—to crave a reward, the reward needs to be something you really want (enjoy) and it needs to be identified ahead of time. What exactly will you get when you complete or accomplish the thing you set out to do?

I know my reward for doing that series of four things will be another gold star, so my brain pushes me to do what I need to do to get it because it craves it. (Sometimes my brain is a really cheap date.) And the more gold stars I accumulate, the stronger the craving becomes. If I were to spontaneously decide to treat myself to a movie or a glass of wine for earning the maximum number of gold stars in a week, it would be a celebration. If I planned to do it ahead of time, it would be a reward.

Celebrations are great! Go ahead and celebrate your successes and accomplishments. But don’t try to substitute celebrations for rewards because they will not help you train your brain to do what you want it to do. If you have trouble identifying suitable rewards, pay attention to how you celebrate and the treats you give yourself. You may be able to use some of those things as rewards.

The Bottom Line

Benefits, celebrations, and rewards are all rewarding to experience, but they serve different purposes in terms of motivation and incentive when it comes to effecting behavior change. Because the reward system operates at the unconscious level, you can’t simply dismiss it or try to circumvent it. The best course of action is to take advantage of it and work with it. Otherwise, you may be unwittingly reinforcing behaviors you don’t want.

When an Explanation Is the Booby Prize

August 3, 2016 by Joycelyn Campbell Leave a Comment

Trying to understand why we do the things we do—or fail to do the things we want or intend to do—is a deeply engrained habit of thought. It seems obvious. It feels useful. When our ancestors roamed the savanna, they had a practical reason for trying to determine cause-and-effect explanations for what was going on around them: survival. And there are plenty of domains and situations in modern life where it’s also important to determine cause and effect. On a personal scale, for example:

If I don’t shop for groceries, I won’t have any food to eat.
If I don’t leave enough space between my car and the one in front of me, and it stops suddenly, I’m likely to run into it.
When I eat too much citrus fruit, I get a rash.

Trying to come up with cause-and-effect explanations for our behavior is far less straightforward, but that doesn’t stop us. We think we can figure out why we do—or don’t do—the things we do. But we’ll never have access to all the necessary information since much of our behavior is initiated by the unconscious part of our brain.

We’re also under the illusion that having an explanation will make a difference. In fact having an explanation is so important to us that anything that seems to fit with our pre-existing beliefs will do, whether or not it’s accurate. Most of the time, we won’t be able to come up with a definitive explanation, and even if we did, so what? By itself, understanding something has no direct impact on our behavior.

Searching for an explanation for our behavior is often just a diversion from doing something about it. Sometimes we think we can’t take action until we after we figure out the why of what we’re doing or not doing. As I said, this habit of thinking feels useful. It has that in common with rumination. Both habits of thought seem like problem-solving but are really mental distractions that keep us stuck.

In truth, when we set out to explain our actions, they are all post hoc explanations using post hoc observations with no access to unconscious processing. Not only that, our left brain fudges things a bit to fit into a makes-sense story. Explanations are all based on what makes it into our consciousness, but actions and the feelings happen before we are consciously aware of them—and most of them are the results of nonconscious processes, which will never make it into the explanations. The reality is that listening to people’s explanations of their actions is interesting—and in the case of politicians, entertaining—but often a waste of time. —Michael Gazzaniga, Professor of Psychology, UC Santa Barbara

Essentially an explanation is a story about how or why something happened or is the way it is. It may be more—or less—accurate, but it’s still a story. And it’s often a story about dysfunction. If we want to effect behavior change, we have to let go of the old story, anyway, and craft a new one. The only way we can make that happen is by focusing on what we’re doing instead of on what we think about what we’re doing.

Counterfactual Thinking: The World of What Might Have Been

June 15, 2016 by Joycelyn Campbell Leave a Comment

Counterfactual thinking is thinking that runs counter to the facts. It consists of imagining outcomes other than the ones that occurred: the way things could have been—or should have been—different from the way they turned out. Being able to imagine different outcomes is an enormous evolutionary and practical advantage. It’s critical in regard to being creative or inventive and in not continuing to make the same mistakes over and over again. But there are different ways of using counterfactual thinking, some of which are effective and some of which are not.

Nonfunctional or Functional?

Nonfunctional counterfactual thinking frequently leads to blame (of self or others), and if carried on long enough, to rumination, stress, anxiety, and depression, as well as to conspiracy theories and alternate versions of reality.

Functional counterfactual thinking is an honest attempt to examine a situation to determine what, if anything, could have been done differently to create a different outcome. It doesn’t involve blame, rumination, or the twisting of facts.

Upward or Downward?

Upward counterfactual thinking focuses on how things could have turned out better, while downward counterfactual thinking focuses on how things could have turned out worse. Focusing on how things could have gone worse tends to make people feel better. You might think this is a good strategy, but it’s a short-term solution that can contribute to long-term difficulties because it decreases the impetus to change.

That’s because focusing on how things could have gone worse prevents people from identifying actual problems that need to be solved or behaviors that need to be modified. Sometimes it’s only a matter of dumb luck that things didn’t turn out worse than they did.

Evidence vs. Information

Perhaps the biggest difference between nonfunctional and functional counterfactual thinking is that in the former case, the events or actions leading to an outcome are perceived as evidence to support a particular agenda, while in the latter case, the events or actions leading to an outcome are perceived as information to be examined without regard to an agenda. (You can read about feedback loops for a more in-depth treatment of evidence vs. information.)

If you are dissatisfied with a particular outcome, the most useful thing you can do is use counterfactual thinking functionally by attempting to determine what led to the outcome and what, if any, changes you could make to be more effective in similar situations in the future.

Analyzing a situation and identifying what you want to change and why you want to change it uses System 2 (conscious) attention, which is why it isn’t always the go-to response. But if you want to use your brain instead of letting your brain use you, and if you want to be a creative rather than a reactive force in your own life, you will sometimes need to do what doesn’t come naturally.