Showing posts with label Psychology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Psychology. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

Can you become a creature of new habits?

By Janet Rae-Dupree
Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Habits are a funny thing. We reach for them mindlessly, setting our brains on auto-pilot and relaxing into the unconscious comfort of familiar routine. "Not choice, but habit rules the unreflecting herd," William Wordsworth said in the 19th century. In the ever-changing 21st century, even the word "habit" carries a negative connotation.

So it seems antithetical to talk about habits in the same context as creativity and innovation. But brain researchers have discovered that when we consciously develop new habits, we create parallel synaptic paths, and even entirely new brain cells, that can jump our trains of thought onto new, innovative tracks.

Rather than dismissing ourselves as unchangeable creatures of habit, we can instead direct our own change by consciously developing new habits. In fact, the more new things we try — the more we step outside our comfort zone — the more inherently creative we become, both in the workplace and in our personal lives.
But don't bother trying to kill off old habits; once those ruts of procedure are worn into the hippocampus, they're there to stay. Instead, the new habits we deliberately ingrain into ourselves create parallel pathways that can bypass those old roads.

"The first thing needed for innovation is a fascination with wonder," says Dawna Markova, author of "The Open Mind" and an executive change consultant for Professional Thinking Partners. "But we are taught instead to 'decide,' just as our president calls himself 'the Decider.' " She adds, however, that "to decide is to kill off all possibilities but one. A good innovational thinker is always exploring the many other possibilities."
All of us work through problems in ways of which we're unaware, she says. Researchers in the late 1960s discovered that humans are born with the capacity to approach challenges in four primary ways: analytically, procedurally, relationally (or collaboratively) and innovatively. At puberty, however, the brain shuts down half of that capacity, preserving only those modes of thought that have seemed most valuable during the first decade or so of life.

The current emphasis on standardized testing highlights analysis and procedure, meaning that few of us inherently use our innovative and collaborative modes of thought. "This breaks the major rule in the American belief system — that anyone can do anything," explains M. J. Ryan, author of the 2006 book "This Year I Will..." and Markova's business partner. "That's a lie that we have perpetuated, and it fosters mediocrity. Knowing what you're good at and doing even more of it creates excellence."

This is where developing new habits comes in. If you're an analytical or procedural thinker, you learn in different ways than someone who is inherently innovative or collaborative. Figure out what has worked for you when you've learned in the past, and you can draw your own map for developing additional skills and behaviors for the future.

"I apprentice myself to someone when I want to learn something new or develop a new habit," Ryan says. "Other people read a book about it or take a course. If you have a pathway to learning, use it because that's going to be easier than creating an entirely new pathway in your brain."
Ryan and Markova have found what they call three zones of existence: comfort, stretch and stress. Comfort is the realm of existing habit. Stress occurs when a challenge is so far beyond current experience as to be overwhelming. It's that stretch zone in the middle — activities that feel a bit awkward and unfamiliar — where true change occurs.

"Getting into the stretch zone is good for you," Ryan says in "This Year I Will... ." "It helps keep your brain healthy. It turns out that unless we continue to learn new things, which challenges our brains to create new pathways, they literally begin to atrophy, which may result in dementia, Alzheimer's and other brain diseases. Continuously stretching ourselves will even help us lose weight, according to one study. Researchers who asked folks to do something different every day — listen to a new radio station, for instance — found that they lost and kept off weight. No one is sure why, but scientists speculate that getting out of routines makes us more aware in general."

She recommends practicing a Japanese technique called kaizen, which calls for tiny, continuous improvements.

"Whenever we initiate change, even a positive one, we activate fear in our emotional brain," Ryan notes in her book. "If the fear is big enough, the fight-or-flight response will go off and we'll run from what we're trying to do. The small steps in kaizen don't set off fight or flight, but rather keep us in the thinking brain, where we have access to our creativity and playfulness."

Simultaneously, take a look at how colleagues approach challenges, Markova suggests. We tend to believe that those who think the way we do are smarter than those who don't. That can be fatal in business, particularly for executives who surround themselves with like-thinkers. If seniority and promotion are based on similarity to those at the top, chances are strong that the company lacks intellectual diversity.
"Try lacing your hands together," Markova says. "You habitually do it one way. Now try doing it with the other thumb on top. Feels awkward, doesn't it? That's the valuable moment we call confusion, when we fuse the old with the new."

AFTER the churn of confusion, she says, the brain begins organizing the new input, ultimately creating new synaptic connections if the process is repeated enough.
But if, during creation of that new habit, the "Great Decider" steps in to protest against taking the unfamiliar path, "you get convergence and we keep doing the same thing over and over again," she says.
"You cannot have innovation," she adds, "unless you are willing and able to move through the unknown and go from curiosity to wonder."

Source: http://www.iht.com/bin/printfriendly.php?id=12604112

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

In most species, faithfulness is a fantasy

You can accuse the disgraced ex-governor Eliot Spitzer of many things in his decision to flout the law by soliciting the services of a pricey prostitute: hypocrisy, egomania, sophomoric impulsiveness and self-indulgence, delusional ineptitude and boneheadedness. But one trait decidedly not on display in Spitzer's splashy act of whole-life catabolism was originality.

It's all been done before, every snickering bit of it, and not just by powerful "risk-taking" alpha men who may or may not be enriched for the hormone testosterone. It's been done by many other creatures, tens of thousands of other species, by male and female representatives of every taxonomic twig on the great tree of life. Sexual promiscuity is rampant throughout nature, and true faithfulness a fond fantasy. Oh, there are plenty of animals in which males and females team up to raise young, as we do, that form "pair bonds" of impressive endurance and apparent mutual affection, spending hours reaffirming their partnership by snuggling together like prairie voles or singing hooty, doo-wop love songs like gibbons, or dancing goofily like blue-footed boobies.

Yet as biologists have discovered through the application of DNA paternity tests to the offspring of these bonded pairs, social monogamy is very rarely accompanied by sexual, or genetic, monogamy. Assay the kids in a given brood, whether of birds, voles, lesser apes, foxes or any other pair-bonding species, and anywhere from 10 to 70 percent will prove to have been sired by somebody other than the resident male.

As David Barash, a professor of psychology at the University of Washington in Seattle, put it with Cole Porter flair: Infants have their infancy; adults, adultery. Barash, who wrote "The Myth of Monogamy" with his psychiatrist-wife, Judith Eve Lipton, cited a scene from the movie "Heartburn" in which a Nora Ephronesque character complains to her father about her husband's philanderings and the father quips that if she'd wanted fidelity, she should have married a swan. Fat lot of good that would have done her, Barash said: we now know that swans can cheat, too. Instead, the heroine might have considered union with Diplozoon paradoxum, a flatworm that lives in gills of freshwater fish. "Males and females meet each other as adolescents, and their bodies literally fuse together, whereupon they remain faithful until death," Barash said. "That's the only species I know of in which there seems to be 100 percent monogamy." And where the only hearts burned belong to the unlucky host fish.

Even the "oldest profession" that figured so prominently in Spitzer's demise is old news. Nonhuman beings have been shown to pay for sex, too. Reporting in the journal Animal Behaviour, researchers from Adam Mickiewicz University and the University of South Bohemia described transactions among great grey shrikes, elegant raptorlike birds with silver capes, white bellies and black tails that, like 90 percent of bird species, form pair bonds to breed. A male shrike provisions his mate with so-called nuptial gifts: rodents, lizards, small birds or large insects that he impales on sticks. But when the male shrike hankers after extracurricular sex, he will offer a would-be mistress an even bigger kebab than the ones he gives to his wife — for the richer the offering, the researchers found, the greater the chance that the female will agree to a fly-by-night fling.

In another recent report from the lubricious annals of Animal Behaviour entitled "Payment for sex in a macaque mating market," Michael Gumert of Hiram College described his two-year study of a group of longtailed macaques that live near the Rimba ecotourist lodge in the Tanjung Puting National Park of Indonesia. Gumert determined that male macaques pay for sex with that all-important, multipurpose primate currency, grooming. He saw that, whereas females groomed males and other females for social and political reasons — to affirm a friendship or make nice to a dominant — and mothers groomed their young to soothe and clean them, when an adult male spent time picking parasites from an adult female's hide, he expected compensation in the form of copulation, or at the very least a close genital inspection. About 89 percent of the male-grooming-female episodes observed, Gumert said in an interview from Singapore, where he is on the faculty of Nanyang Technological University, "were directed toward sexually active females" with whom the males had a chance of mating.

Significantly, males adjust their grooming behavior in a distinctly economic fashion, paying a higher or lower price depending on the availability and quality of the merchandise and competition from other buyers. "What led me to think of grooming as a form of payment was seeing how it changed across different market conditions," Gumert said. "When there were fewer females around, the male would groom longer, and when there were lots of females, the grooming times went down." Males also groomed females of high rank considerably longer than they did low-status females with nary a diamond to their page.

Commonplace though adultery may be, and as avidly as animals engage in it when given the opportunity, nobody seems to approve of it in others, and humans are hardly the only species that will rise up in outrage against wantonness real or perceived. Most female baboons have lost half an ear here, a swatch of pelt there, to the jealous fury of their much larger and toothier mates. Among scarab beetles, males and females generally pair up to start a family, jointly gathering dung and rolling and patting it into the rich brood balls in which the female deposits her fertilized eggs. The male may on occasion try to attract an extra female or two — but he does so at his peril. In one experiment with postmatrimonial scarabs, the female beetle was kept tethered in the vicinity of her mate, who quickly seized the opportunity to pheromonally broadcast for fresh faces. Upon being released from bondage, the female dashed over and knocked the male flat on his back. "She'd roll him right into the ball of dung," Barash said, "which seemed altogether appropriate."

In the case of the territorial red-backed salamander, males and females alike are inclined to zealous partner policing and will punish partners they believe to have strayed: with threat displays, mouth nips and throat bites, and most coldblooded of all, a withdrawal of affection, a refusal to engage. Be warned, you big lounge lizard: it could happen to you.

Source:http://www.iht.com/bin/printfriendly.php?id=11209673


Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Feel like a fraud? At times, maybe you should

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Stare into a mirror long enough and it's hard not to wonder whether that's a mask staring back, and if so, who's really behind it.
A similar self-doubt can cloud a public identity as well, especially for anyone who has just stepped into a new role. College graduate. New mother. Medical doctor. Even, for that matter, presidential nominee.

Presidents and parents, after all, are expected to make crucial decisions on a dime. Doctors are being asked to save lives, and graduate students to know how Aristotle's conception of virtue differed from Aquinas's conception of — uh-oh.

Who's kidding whom?

Social psychologists have studied what they call the impostor phenomenon since at least the 1970s, when a pair of therapists at Georgia State University used the phrase to describe the internal experience of a group of high-achieving women who had a secret sense they were not as capable as others thought. Since then researchers have documented such fears in adults of all ages, as well as adolescents.

Their findings have veered well away from the original conception of impostorism as a reflection of an anxious personality or a cultural stereotype. Feelings of phoniness appear to alter people's goals in unexpected ways and may also protect them against subconscious self-delusions.
Questionnaires measuring impostor fears ask people how much they agree with statements like these: "At times, I feel my success has been due to some kind of luck." "I can give the impression that I'm more competent than I really am." "If I'm to receive a promotion of some kind, I hesitate to tell others until it's an accomplished fact."

Researchers have found, as expected, that people who score highly on such scales tend to be less confident, more moody and rattled by performance anxieties than those who score lower.
But the dread of being found out is hardly always paralyzing. Two Purdue psychologists, Shamala Kumar and Carolyn Jagacinski, gave 135 college students a series of questionnaires, measuring anxiety level, impostor feelings and approach to academic goals. They found that women who scored highly also reported a strong desire to show that they could do better than others. They competed harder.

By contrast, men who scored highly on the impostor scale showed more desire to avoid contests in areas where they felt vulnerable. "The motivation was to avoid doing poorly, looking weak," Jagacinski said.

Yet if feelings of phoniness were all bad, it seems unlikely that they would be so familiar to so many emotionally well-adapted people.

In a 2000 study at Wake Forest University, psychologists had people who scored highly on an impostor scale predict how they would do on a coming test of intellectual and social skills. An experimenter, they were told, would discuss their answers with them later.
Sure enough, the self-styled impostors predicted that they would do poorly. But when making the same predictions in private — anonymously, they were told — the same people rated their chances on the test as highly as people who scored low on the impostor scale.
In short, the researchers concluded, many self-styled impostors are phony phonies: they adopt self-deprecation as a social strategy, consciously or not, and are secretly more confident than they let on.

"Particularly when people think that they might not be able to live up to others' views of them, they may maintain that they are not as good as other people think," Mark Leary, the lead author, wrote in an e-mail message. "In this way, they lower others' expectations — and get credit for being humble."

In a study published in September, Rory O'Brien McElwee and Tricia Yurak of Rowan University in Glassboro, New Jersey, had 253 students take an exhaustive battery of tests assessing how people present themselves in public. They found that psychologically speaking, impostorism looked a lot more like a self-presentation strategy than a personality trait.

In an interview, McElwee said that as a social strategy, projecting oneself as an impostor can lower expectations for a performance and take pressure off a person — as long as the self-deprecation doesn't go too far. "It's the difference between saying you got drunk before the SAT and actually doing it," she said. "One provides a ready excuse, and the other is self-destructive."

In mild doses, feeling like a fraud also tempers the natural instinct to define one's own competence in self-serving ways. Researchers have shown in careful studies that people tend to be poor judges of their own performance and often to overrate their abilities. Their opinions about how well they've done on a test, or at a job, or in a class are often way off others' evaluations. They're confident that they can detect liars (they can't) and forecast grades (not so well).

This native confidence is likely to be functional: in a world of profound uncertainty, self-serving delusion probably helps people to get out of bed and chase their pet projects.
But it can be poison when the job calls for expertise and accountability, and the expertise is wanting. From her study, McElwee concluded that impostor fears most likely came and went in most people, and were most acute when, for example, a teacher first had to stand up in front of a class, or a new mechanic or lawyer took on real liability.

At those times feeling like a fraud amounts to more than the stirrings of an anxious temperament or the desire to project a protective humility. It reflects a respect for the limits of one's own abilities, and an intuition that only a true impostor would be afraid to ask for help.

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