Brain Archives - Page 13 of 29

Are You Chasing Squirrels?

September 11, 2015 by Joycelyn Campbell 7 Comments

If a dog spots a squirrel, it will automatically chase the squirrel. The dog may have been involved in some other activity, but once a squirrel arrives on the scene, the dog’s attention is redirected to chasing it. Dogs don’t have to be trained to chase squirrels. They have to be trained to not chase them.

In regard to chasing the squirrely things that capture our immediate attention, humans are not very different from dogs. Chasing is the default response to squirrels—be they real or metaphorical. We don’t have to be trained to chase those ideas or objects or trivial pursuits. We have to be trained to not chase them.

One of my clients has created a goal action plan to clear away the accumulated clutter in her home so the house can be cleaned before her best friend comes to visit next month. She’s done a good job of identifying both the desired outcome and all the steps that need to be taken, and she’s been able to check some items off the list.

But last week she reported that instead of proceeding to the next step, she spent several days rearranging the furniture in her living room. Rearranging things, especially furniture, is something she finds highly gratifying. Indeed, engaging in this kind of activity makes her feel good because it provides her with hits of dopamine. Given an opportunity to chase squirrels (rearrange furniture) or proceed with clearing clutter, her automatic response will probably always be to go after the squirrels.

As a result of the diversion, she fell behind on her goal action plan, and now she’s anxious about being able to finish everything in time. Nevertheless, an opportunity to plan a fun new trip just presented itself, and she has begun chasing after that squirrel.

Other members of the class she’s in didn’t understand why there was anything wrong with taking time to rearrange the furniture as long as she felt good as a result of doing it. And although she was aware of how chasing that squirrel had negatively impacted her, her awareness didn’t carry over to the next squirrel that presented itself (planning the new trip).

We’re Wired to Chase Squirrels

She’s hardly unique in her compulsion to chase squirrels. We all do it, and we all rationalize it, too. We have great, sometimes elaborate, explanations and justifications for why chasing some particular squirrel was absolutely, positively essential at the time we went after it. We don’t all chase the same squirrels, but most of the time our explanations for why we’re chasing our particular cute, furry rodents are highly fictionalized. So I give her kudos for paying attention and recognizing the cost.

We’re wired to respond to those things that will gratify us right now, not the things that have long-term payoffs. And we’re wired to do what makes us feel good. In other words, we’re programmed to chase squirrels, but that doesn’t mean we should just go ahead and do it. Chasing squirrels can get in the way of all kinds of things, including relationships, careers, projects, health, and both medium- and long-term goals. If we can’t resist the attraction, we’re at the mercy of whatever squirrel happens to shows up in our neighborhood. Squirrels are hardest to resist when System 2 is depleted. And if we aren’t committed to something that’s both compelling and urgent, the squirrels will get us every time.

But if we are focused on something bigger, farther down the road, that’s more satisfying and meaningful than the quick hit of dopamine we get from immediate gratification, we need to stop the compulsive squirrel chasing. To do that, we can apply the same techniques to train ourselves to follow through on our goal, habit, or project as we would to train a dog to stop behaving badly: repetition, persistence, and treats (rewards) for good behavior.

It can be helpful to identify the squirrels that are most likely to attract our attention so we can set some guidelines or limits as to when and how we want to respond to them. It really does come down to the sometimes painful fact that we can have what really matters to is or we can have the freedom to not have it, but we can’t have both.

What kind of squirrels do you find impossible to resist? And how do you resist them (when you do)?

Brain Dead: Is Your Mind Temporarily Offline?

September 4, 2015 by Joycelyn Campbell Leave a Comment

Your brain has two systems for processing the stimuli and experiences of your life and determining how you act upon them.

Conscious: The processing system you’re aware of is called System 2. It is logical and intentional and sometimes referred to as “true reasoning.” (A formal outline is a good example.) It is also slow, limited, and easily depleted. It processes about 40 bits of information at a time.

Unconscious: The processing system you’re not aware of is called System 1. It is associative, which means it sees patterns and connects dots. (A mindmap is a good example.) It is fast, vast, and always on. It processes about 11,000,000 bits of information at a time.

If System 1 were to go offline, you would, too. Game over! But you can still function when System 2 is temporarily offline, even for long periods of time, such as when you’re asleep. So when you think or talk about being temporarily brain dead, you’re talking about exhausting System 2 attention.

If you’re in good health, there’s not much you can do to tax or exhaust the capacity of System 1—and there are things you can do to enhance its functioning. However, your supply of System 2 attention is always limited, and anything that occupies your working memory reduces it. Some examples of things that tax System 2 attention are:

Physical illness (even minor), injury, or lack of sleep
Making numerous trivial decisions throughout the day
Stress, anxiety, and worry
Exercising will power (forcing yourself to do something you don’t want to do or to not do something you do want to do)
Monitoring your behavior
Monitoring your environment if it is new or you consider it unsafe
Learning something new, traveling an unfamiliar route, etc.
Completing a complex computation
Trying to tune out distractions
A long period of concentrated or focused attention
Trying to remember dates, numbers, or unrelated facts
Listening to me talk

Since System 1 is fast, vast, always on, and has an answer for almost everything—and since you don’t need System 2 attention for most of what you do when you’re awake—what’s the big deal if you run out of System 2 attention from time to time?

Three Categories of Errors

Optimally, the two systems work together, and neither type of processing is superior. However, System 1 is more useful in some situations, while System 2 is not only more useful but also required in other situations.

System 1 is pretty good at what it does because its models of familiar situations are accurate so its short-term predictions tend to be accurate. But that’s not always the case. System 1 sacrifices accuracy for speed, meaning it jumps to conclusions. It also has biases and is prone to making logical errors.

One of System 2’s jobs is to detect System 1’s errors and adjust course by overriding System 1’s impulses. As Daniel Kahneman says in Thinking, Fast and Slow:

There are vital tasks that only System 2 can perform because they require effort and acts of self-control in which the intuitions and impulses of System 1 are overcome.

Bear in mind that System 1 is not rational. If System 2 is depleted and can’t veto or modify the non-rational impulses of System 1, those impulses then turn into actions (or speech).

There are three categories of errors you tend to make when System 2 is depleted.

Logical Errors

System 1 thinking uses shortcuts. System 2 thinking takes the long (logical/linear) way home. So when you’re out of System 2 attention, you’re more prone to making mistakes in anything that requires logical, linear thinking. Errors of intuitive thought can be difficult for System 2 to catch on a good day. When System 2 is offline, you automatically assume them to be correct. As a result:

You will have trouble making, following, or checking the validity of a complex logical argument. You’ll be more likely to be led by the cognitive biases and distortions System 1 uses because they don’t require any effort and give you a comforting sense of cognitive ease.

You will have difficulty comparing the features of two items for overall value. If you have to make a choice, you’ll be more likely to go with what intuitively feels right or the item that has some emotionally compelling attribute (it reminds you of the one your mother had, for example, or reminds you of your mother).

You will be more gullible. You’ll be more likely to believe things you wouldn’t otherwise believe or be persuaded by empty messages, such as in commercials. System 2 is the skeptic, so the best time for someone to take advantage of you is when it is offline.

Intention or Response Errors

System 1 continuously picks up on cues and triggers in your environment to determine what situation you’re in and to predict what’s next. Any deviation from the norm requires System 2 attention. If it isn’t available, you’re likely to do not what you intended to do but whatever is normal for you in that situation. And without System 2 attention, you’re much more likely to respond automatically (habitually) to the stimulus (cue or trigger).

System 2 is in charge of self-control, continuously monitoring your behavior, keeping you polite, for example, when you’re angry. In the heat of the moment, when you’re out of System 2 attention, you’re much less likely to be able to suppress your immediate emotional reactions to people and situations.

System 1 has an answer for almost everything. But when it encounters a surprising situation (something it hasn’t previously encountered or that is unusual in that situation), it notifies System 2. You don’t need System 2 attention to drive a familiar route, but if you encounter an obstacle along that route, you need System 2 to figure out what it is and to respond appropriately to it.

System 2 is also in charge of will power. If you are in the process of trying to stop doing something you habitually do (such as raiding the refrigerator in the evening), you need System 2 to belay the impulse from System 1 to see if there’s more pie. Without System 2, you’re more likely to give in, look for the pie…and eat it.

You need System 2 if you want to take a different route from your usual one or make an extra stop you don’t normally make. Without adequate System 2 attention, you’re likely to find yourself taking the usual route and forgetting to make that stop.

Gatekeeping Errors

We all have biases, whether or not we’re aware of them and whether or not we want to admit it. While it’s easy to spot overt biases and prejudices in other people, most of your own biases are hidden even from you. In the case of biases toward specific groups of people, you’ve likely come to a reasoned conclusion they’re wrong and have chosen not to think about and treat other people based on stereotypes. But that doesn’t mean the biases have disappeared. They’re still part of System 1’s associative processing operations. It’s just that when System 1 suggests a biased response to System 2, System 2 normally overrides it. Per Daniel Kahneman:

Conflict between an automatic reaction (System 1) and an intention to control it (System 2) is common in our lives.

When System 2 is depleted, there is no one at the gate to keep the biased or prejudiced responses from getting through. You may simply have a biased thought. You may say something in the presence of others that you wouldn’t normally say. Or you may respond to another person based on a group stereotype. The thought, comment, or behavior may be something you later regret. If you were to claim it doesn’t represent what you believe or the way you really feel or think, you’d most likely be right.

But when you see a blatant expression of bias or prejudice in someone else—especially a celebrity—you might have a different reaction. You might assume their true colors are showing. We think that what we see in other people when their guard is down and they’re pushed or stressed reveals the truth about them. But the actual truth is that to the extent we have any civility at all, it’s because System 2 maintains it. Without System 2 you and I would have no ability to question our biases or prejudices, no ability to come to reasoned conclusions about them, and no ability to monitor and veto System 1’s automatic reactions.

Conclusion

It isn’t always necessary, advisable, or even possible to override System 1. But when you deplete System 2, you can’t override it even when you want or need to. Without System 2, you can’t think straight (logically and linearly). So:

Don’t try to make important decisions of any kind when you feel brain dead.
Don’t assume you’ll feel or think the same way about something the next day as you do when you’re stressed, sick, just completed your annual tax return, or have recently fallen in love.
Don’t stay up late to watch the QVC channel unless you have a lot of money you’re trying to unload.
Don’t keep pie around if you’re trying not to eat it.
Don’t get into debates about complex issues after you’ve had a few beers.
Don’t tax your working memory with details you can keep track of some other way.
Don’t take System 2’s censoring of your biases and prejudices for granted. And don’t assume other people’s mental lapses reveal deep-seated truths about them.

Are You Thinking Outside the Box Yet?

July 31, 2015 by Joycelyn Campbell 2 Comments

If you’ve ever felt stymied by the prospect of thinking outside the box, you may be relieved to find out that you can’t actually do that. The box is the mental model through which you view and interpret the world. You are always inside the box, in one compartment or another. The box constrains what you see, what you think, how you feel, and what you do. And the less aware of them you are, the more power these constraints have over you.

The concept of thinking outside the box comes from what is called the Nine-Dot Problem, first used by psychologist N.R.F. Maier in 1930. The task is to connect all of the dots by drawing four straight lines without retracing any lines or removing your pencil from the paper. The solutions to the Nine-Dot Problem all require you to extend your lines outside the “box” created by the dots.

The box has come to represent all of the things that limit our thinking, so thinking outside the box means being able to transcend those limitations. In the 1970’s, thanks in part to psychologist J.P. Guilford and his study of creativity, thinking outside the box became a popular metaphor for unconventional and original—i.e., creative—thinking.

Your Mental Model:
Don’t Leave Home Without It.

Of course the concept of thinking outside the box has spawned some contrarians who suggest there are benefits to thinking inside the box. The assumption in both cases is that we have the option of thinking either inside or outside the box and can choose the location from which we think. But that’s not the case, since we don’t have the option of getting outside our mental model.

Just as the unconscious part of our brain monitors our breathing and heart rate to keep them in the normal (for us) range, it creates a model of the world that represents what’s normal in it for us. Our particular model of the world determines what we pay attention to, how we interpret and explain what we pay attention to, and the meaning we assign to events.

Our mental model is created and (mostly) maintained by the unconscious part of our brain, which is always running. We can’t access it directly to find out what’s in it. The contents are a combination of genetics, experiences, information, beliefs, skills and talents, and assumptions. Some of it is coherent; some of it isn’t. Some of it is stuff we want to have in there; some of it isn’t. In general, the best word to describe it is functional.

Although we’ve had a hand in programming our mental model over the course of our lives, it is being continuously updated according to our brain’s set of survival-based criteria. The unconscious part of our brain processes around 11,000,000 bits of information at a time, while we can consciously process only about 40 bits. If we had to rely on consciousness to get through the day, we would be in big, big trouble.

Fortunately, our mental model, operating outside our awareness, helps predict what’s going to happen next and “readies” us to respond appropriately. In fact, many researchers have referred to the brain as an anticipation machine. When the brain’s expectations aren’t met, it actually “protests.” That’s what underlies the feelings of surprise we experience.

As long as things are going according to plan, the brain can operate at a lower level of energy, which is what it prefers to do. When something unexpected occurs, it has to shift into a higher energy consumption mode.

Aha?

Since our mental model is the lens through which we view and interpret the world around us—and even ourselves—we can’t think outside it. Some theorists on the subject claim that insight is the result of thinking outside the box, but it isn’t. No matter how mind-blowing they may be, our insights still depend on what’s already in our particular box. This seems obvious when you consider it. Someone whose mental model includes a vast amount of experience and knowledge in a particular area is likely to have more and bigger creative insights than someone else who only dabbles in the field.

When we’re learning something new (e.g., a language, how to get around in an unfamiliar city, a new artistic technique), we have to rely heavily on the conscious part of our brain. But as we continue learning, more and more information is turned over to the unconscious part of the brain. We develop greater facility. We become faster and better in part because our brain is making associations and anticipating what is coming next. As this occurs, our mental model expands and we are able to see things differently, think different thoughts, and do different things.

The physical brain has a great capacity to be plastic, which means it can change, and in some cases, we can actually see what those changes look like.

In violin players’ brains, the neural regions that control their left hands, where complex, fine motor movement is required on the strings, look as if they’ve been gorging on a high-fat diet. These regions are enlarged, swollen, and crisscrossed with complex associations. By contrast, the areas controlling the right hand, which draws the bow, look positively anorexic, with much less complexity. —John Medina, Brain Rules

Complexity is the key. The more knowledge and experience we have in a particular area, the more complex our mental model will be. Experienced violin players can not only play more complex tunes, they can also identify more complex musical problems to solve. And they can solve them faster. The situation is the same whether we’re talking about an artist, a musician, a performer, a movie-maker, a chef, a businessperson, an athlete, a hobbyist, a writer, or a world leader.

If we want a brain that can think more complex thoughts and solve more complex problems, one thing we can do to help make that happen is get in the habit of moving.

Physical activity is cognitive candy. Exercise stimulates one of the brain’s most powerful growth factors, BDNF (brain-derived neurotrophic factor). According to Harvard psychiatrist John Ratey, “It keeps [existing] neurons young and healthy, and makes them more ready to connect with one another. It also encourages neurogenesis—the creation of new cells.” The cells most sensitive to this are in the hippocampus, inside the very regions deeply involved in human cognition. —John Medina, Brain Rules

Build a Better Box

Our brain can change, which means our mental model can change, too. Instead of trying to think outside the box, we’re better served by deliberately stretching and expanding it via physical activity, learning, exposing ourselves to new situations and different viewpoints—in short, by challenging ourselves.

New ideas are not spun from thin air. Creativity involves synthesizing, remixing, and re-envisioning what’s already inside the box.

Feedback Loops: Use Them or Be Used by Them

July 17, 2015 by Joycelyn Campbell Leave a Comment

It isn’t too much of a stretch to say that feedback loops make the world go round. Among other things, feedback loops keep machinery—both digital and analog—running smoothly, moderate our weather, and maintain homeostasis in our bodies. Feedback loops also function to either maintain or disrupt the status quo within businesses and other organizations, in politics, in the economy, in interpersonal relationships, and even in regard to our own behavior.

David DiSalvo calls feedback loops “the engines of your adaptive brain.” He says research across multiple disciplines—psychology, sociology, economics, engineering, epidemiology, and business strategy, for example—has validated feedback loops as a solid governing principle.

Day in and day out, we make decisions based on the results of feedback loops that run in our minds without our noticing. None of us stops to think through each stage of the loop—how the data we’ve gathered is being processed to lead us to our next action. And yet, even without our conscious monitoring, the loops just keep moving.

Decision-making requires conscious thought. So it may be more accurate to say we react based on feedback loops rather than that we make decisions. In the same way that our brain has criteria for evaluating the data provided by physiological feedback loops (in order to, say, maintain our body temperature and signal when we need to eat or drink—or stop eating or drinking), it also has criteria for evaluating the data provided by our mental, emotional, and behavioral feedback loops. The problem is that these criteria are part of our mental model of the world, much of which is unconscious, which means we’re not aware of it.

If we don’t stop to think through “how the data we’ve gathered is being processed,” we’re more likely to maintain the very habits of thinking and behaving we’re trying to change.

What Exactly Is a Feedback Loop?

The four stages of a feedback loop as described by science writer Thomas Goetz in Wired Magazine are:

Evidence
Relevance
Consequence
Action

A feedback loop involves four distinct stages. First comes the data: A behavior must be measured, captured, and stored. This is the evidence stage.

Second, the information must be relayed to the individual, not in the raw-data form in which it was captured but in a context that makes it emotionally resonant. This is the relevance stage.

But even compelling information is useless if we don’t know what to make of it, so we need a third stage: consequence. The information must illuminate one or more paths ahead.

And finally, the fourth stage: action. There must be a clear moment when the individual can recalibrate a behavior, make a choice, and act. Then that action is measured, and the feedback loop can run once more, every action stimulating new behaviors that inch us closer to our goals.

When it comes to behavior-related feedback loops, such as changing an old habit or starting a new one, the sequence looks more like this:

Action
Evidence
Relevance
Consequence
New Action (or Reaction)

Just about any activity generates feedback of some sort. The result of an action can be large or infinitesimal, desirable or undesirable. Ideally, you notice what happens and use the feedback to determine what to do next. If you’re driving your car along a snowy road and it begins to skid, the skid is evidence that road conditions require you to make some type of adjustment to your driving. The evidence is relevant to you because you want to avoid an accident, which is a potential consequence of not paying attention to the evidence. Your reaction might be to slow down.

That’s a fairly straightforward example. Another driving-related example, one you may have encountered and which Goetz wrote about in Wired, involves “dynamic speed displays,” also called driver feedback signs. These speed limit signs include radar sensors attached to digital readouts that flash your vehicle’s speed once you get in range. Driver feedback signs have been so successful in decreasing speeding they’re springing up in more and more locations.

The basic premise is simple. Provide people with information about their actions in real time (or something close to it), then give them an opportunity to change those actions, pushing them toward better behaviors. Action, information, reaction.

The Premise May Be Simple, But the Process Isn’t.

The apparent result of an action we’ve taken—the evidence—must first be interpreted before we can proceed through the steps of the feedback loop to determine how to react. A roadside sign that tells you both the speed limit and your current speed provides you with straightforward, unambiguous evidence. If all the evidence we were faced with was similarly unambiguous, our lives would be much less complex and our decisions would be much easier to make. Alas, such is not the case.

As stated above, DiSalvo says we make decisions based on the results of feedback loops, but even in cases where we’re making decisions rather than simply reacting, it would be more accurate to say we make decisions based on our interpretation of the results of feedback loops.

Because we perceive the world through our particular mental model, we’re predisposed to interpret the results of our actions in certain ways. This can be problematic in general, but it’s especially so when we’re presented with negative evidence. Things didn’t work out the way we planned; we did something other than what we intended or wanted to do; or we’re faced with unexpected obstacles. The most useful way to respond to such information is to look at it objectively. We tried something and it didn’t work. We can then try to figure out why it didn’t work and decide whether to try it again or to try something else.

Instead of viewing the negative results of our actions objectively, however, we’re prone to interpreting them as evidence of failure. Once we interpret the results as evidence of failure, we’re much less likely to try to figure out what didn’t work and what to do next, and we’re much more likely to give up. At that point, the habit or behavior we were trying to change becomes even more entrenched than it was before we attempted to do something about it. And the goal we were trying to achieve seems even more distant.

A student in one of my classes reported struggling for several years with a particular issue of having to document, in detail, time spent caretaking a family member. Every time she tried and failed to find a system that worked, she interpreted it as evidence of personal failure. One day in class, she outlined something new to try. When she returned the following week, she was very excited, but not because the new system had worked. It hadn’t. What she was excited about was that when she realized that particular system didn’t work, rather than viewing it as more evidence of failure she was able to view it objectively. Because she was able to view it objectively, she didn’t waste time beating herself up over it. Instead, she immediately decided to try something else and that new system did work.

Confirmation bias is very powerful. If we believe we’re lazy or incapable or don’t follow through on anything, we’re likely to view the negative results of our actions as confirmation of our preexisting belief and then behave as though that belief is reality. So it’s important to remember that our automatic interpretations can’t always be trusted; sometimes we need to slow down long enough to question them.

Not everything you try is going to go smoothly or work out the way you hoped it would. Sometimes the road is slippery, under construction, or takes a detour. Noticing that what you tried simply didn’t work will allow you to use the information as feedback to help you determine the best way to correct your course—or to chart a brand new one.

Count your Yesses

May 28, 2015 by Joycelyn Campbell 2 Comments

As Rick Hanson famously says, “Your brain is like Velcro for negative experiences and Teflon for positive ones.” That’s because your brain’s primary concern is your survival, so it’s primed to pay more attention to the negative. Positive things may indeed help you survive. But negative things can kill you. As far as your brain is concerned, it’s definitely better to be safe than sorry. It’s better to expect and prepare for a possible threat (there might be a tiger behind that bush) than to be surprised (and wounded or eaten) by that tiger.

It’s easy to forget that we’re operating with essentially the same brain our ancestors on the savanna had. But if you want to overcome your brain’s negativity bias, it’s important to remember that System 1, the unconscious part of your brain that runs you most of the time, doesn’t always deal effectively with the stimulation, stressors, and sheer volume of information you have to contend with in your daily life.

It’s easier for all of us to pay attention to the negative: the threats, the slights, the hurts, the things that fall apart or don’t go our way. We don’t have to make a point of looking for what isn’t working in order to find it. Our brain does that automatically. Another aspect of our survival-based brain—its associative method of “thinking”—makes it easy to get on a negative track and stay there. One darn thing leads to another, meaning one similar thought reminds you of another similar thought. Before you know it, your mood and your attitude have soured, and your ability to refocus your attention has evaporated.

You can’t stop your brain from noticing the negative, and it wouldn’t even be a good idea to try. But neither do you have to give in to it. The advice to count your blessings comes to mind, but I find blessings to be a loaded word on several levels. I prefer to count my yesses. It’s a great way to turn the tide when I notice I’ve mentally starting traveling along that road to nowhere.

Although I tend to be pretty optimistic and upbeat, the first thing I noticed when I began this practice was how much easier it is to count my nos. Because the nos are brought to our attention by System 1, the unconscious part of our brain that is always on and processes 11,000,000 bits of information at a time, they come to mind immediately and automatically without any effort on our part. Counting yesses, on the other hand, requires intention, which is a function of System 2, the conscious part of the brain that is slow, lazy, and easily depleted.

The process of shifting my attention doesn’t just change the mental track I’m on; it also causes me to be aware of how influential my mental model of the world is at any given moment.

We don’t see things as they are; we see them as we are.

That quote has been attributed to several different people, but regardless of who said it, it’s true.

When you’re tired, stressed, or sick—or when life has dealt you some kind of blow—you simply have less System 2 attention available. So it’s easy for the nos to get the upper hand. A couple of weeks ago I went through a bout of food poisoning. During the illness itself and the two days that followed, the nos were abundant. I observed the downward trend in my thoughts, but I also understood what was happening. I was pretty sure my perspective would change once I got better (which it did), so I didn’t let the nos carry me too far downstream.

Someone I know regularly posts what she calls “The Daily Yes” on Facebook. It’s a prompt that works well for me because I don’t have a regular schedule for accessing Facebook, so I don’t always see it at the same time of day. But every time I do see it, I stop to read it. It doesn’t matter what the specific content is. It’s the word yes that’s my cue to pay attention to what’s juicy and zesty and working in my life—to who and what has said yes to me and who and what I’ve said yes to.

It’s easy for one no to outweigh many yesses, so much so that we may not even notice the yesses when they occur. That’s why I’ve found it helpful to make a list, whether it’s on paper or just a mental list. It reminds me that my brain does have a negativity bias—but that I don’t have to agree with it or go along for that particular ride.