reframing

Just how free are we to choose?

March 13, 2017

We all make choices every day; we gather information, assess our options, and come to logical decisions about our choices. Or do we?

I think most of us would readily admit there are subconscious factors at work influencing our choices. Our past experiences have given us a vast repository of information that informs our logic. And we have personal preferences we develop from those experiences, whether we consciously recall them or not.

But what I’m curious about today is the choices we make that are not informed by our logic or those idiosyncratic experiences singular to each of us. They are the choices that are influenced by things of which we may quite unaware, and that influence all of us in similar ways.

I’ve been reading Nudge: Improving Decisions About Health, Wealth and Happiness by Richard Thaler and Cass Sunstein. The authors do a fascinating job looking at how we present or frame choices for people predictably affects their behavior. Diners in a cafeteria, for example, more often choose food that’s near the front line and at eye level. The book’s examples get increasingly complex, dealing with everything from pensions and health insurance to encouraging energy efficiency. How we’re presented with choices is every bit as important as what the choices are; we can be ‘nudged.’

Other things I’ve been reading lately show that subconscious influences on our choices don’t stop there. Researchers at the University of Toronto Chen-Bo Zhong and Geoffrey Leonardelli* ran two experiments. They found that people who are socially isolated reported feeling cold (as determined by their assessment of the room’s temperature.) In the second experiment, they offered socially-isolated subjects a choice of warm or cold drinks and food, and found they preferred warm food (presumably, to warm up.)

There’s certainly plenty of evidence in our language that supports this sensory/social association. We commonly use metaphorical expressions like “being left out in the cold”, “getting the cold shoulder” or describing a person as “cold-hearted”—all examples of being rejected or identifying a person as unfriendly. Contrarily, we use phrases like “a warm and friendly person”, a person or idea getting a “warm reception”, and seeing something positive as “warming my heart.”

The same is true for connecting other sensory experiences and our more abstract experiences. We talk, for example, about the sweet smell of success, the betrayal that leaves a bitter taste in the mouth. We might talk about the rough road ahead or declare it’s all smooth sailing from here. A heavy topic of conversation is one that is to be taken seriously, while keeping the conversation light means the conversation should be superficial and pleasant.

So we don’t just use our senses to navigate our way in the physical world. Since conception, they’ve been helping to create a personal dictionary that we refer to, consciously and subconsciously, when we seek words or images to describe a feeling or experience. We make sense of a new experience by comparing it to something we’ve already experienced, and we encode it, with all its sensory/physical nuances, with a metaphor found in that personal ‘dictionary.’ Then we use these stored metaphors as part of our processing of every living moment.

Interestingly, Zhong and Leonardelli found it didn’t matter if the social isolating of their subjects was occurring in the room or simply being recalled. It seems once the association has been catalogued by the mind/body, the physical associations are part of the response.

Sounds good, right? Kind of impressed with our cleverness, yes? So creative and efficient! But there are pitfalls. You’re probably familiar with something like this scenario: you happened to be eating cherries just before you came down with a stomach bug. Now you can’t stand even the smell of cherries, though logically you know there was no causal connection.

In regards to social experiences, the problem with our sensory/social associations is we’re too quick apply them in reverse. Researchers have found that if we go into a cold room, we are more likely to perceive a person we meet there as unfriendly. If we are holding a warm cup of coffee, we’re more apt to perceive the person we meet as friendly.** We infer that heavy objects are more important, and subjects were more rigid in negotiations when influenced by hard objects.*** So, we don’t always reach accurate conclusions when we let those associations color our assumptions. But, as we’re not aware of the influence, we don’t question our reactions, checking them against more logical input.

What an intriguing thought: how much of what we judge to be true about the world, about others, about our situations and experiences, is influenced by these erroneous, subconscious associations we’re making? It gives a whole new level of challenge to avoiding assumptions!

Curious for more details ? References:

Nudge: Improving Decisions About Health, Wealth and Happiness by Richard Thaler and Cass Sunstein (Penguin, 2009)

*Cold and Lonely: Does Social Exclusion Literally Feel Cold?, Chen-Bo Zhong and Geoffrey J. Leonardelli, Univ. of Toronto, Psychological Science, 15 September, 2008 . Click here for a concise review of the experiments and results.

**Experiencing Physical Warmth Promotes Interpersonal Warmth, Lawrence E. Williams and John A. Bragh, Science 24 October, 2008, vol.322

***Incidental Haptic Sensations Influence Social Judgments and Decisions, Joshua M. Ackerman, Christopher C. Nocera, John A. Bargh, Science 25 June, 2010, vol.328

Must we tend our children like we tend our fields?

May 12, 2010

I always knew our agricultural needs influenced our school calendars, with their long breaks to allow children to help on the family farm. What I’d never considered was the influence of the metaphor associated with the North American growth cycle, and how it explains why the tradition of a long summer vacation is still with us in the U.S. long after the family farm is mostly a thing of the past.

I’ve been reading Micheal Gladwell’s Outliers. In Chapter Nine, Gladwell briefly relays the history of the development of the public education system in America. Early on, basic literacy was considered essential, as informed citizens are necessary for a democracy to thrive. But what, exactly, should educating our children entail? Gladwell cites a number of sources that indicate nineteenth century educators were considering not just economic concerns, but that too much study could lead to an over-stimulated mind and mental disorders. Saturday classes were cut, and long school days and short vacations were adjusted to give students more rest.

Gladwell concludes that the metaphor being applied was that “effort must be balanced by rest”—just as fields rest in winter, and may need to lie fallow for a season to recoup. “We formulate new ideas by analogy, working from what we know toward what we don’t know, and what reformers knew were the rhythms of the agricultural seasons.” (p.254) Gladwell draws a contrast to the parts of Asia dominated by rice paddy agriculture and its rhythms. Planting two or three crops a year, rice farmers had no prolonged periods of rest. Nutrient-rich water used for irrigation enriches the soil, so the more it is cultivated, the better for the soil—unlike wheat or cotton crops. There developed, then, no guiding metaphor that suggests rest is good for the growing mind—and Japanese children, for example, go to school 243 days per year compared with 180 days for American children!

What Gladwell gives us is an example of the way metaphors can structure our thinking. A growing child is like a cultivated field, we think. Sic, what we know about cultivating crops can be applied to children. Utterly subconsciously, we can come to such conclusions, and they can limit our ideas about what might be possible or undermine our willingness to be open to new ways of doing things.

It’s precisely this sort of metaphorical sub-structure that can emerge with a Symbolic Modeling session. When I think about “effort must be balanced by rest”, I notice the implied metaphor in the word “balanced”. It’s a word that comes up frequently in client sessions, usually as something the client wants more of. My clients are far more likely to have an underlying belief that they are allowed to rest only when sick or completely exhausted than to think they rest too much. So, who is doing the allowing to rest, or not allowing, as the case may be? “Ah, interesting question,” the client usually replies. And then we are off, hunting for the guiding metaphor!

Are America’s Metaphors about Women Changing?

November 23, 2009

If you’re interested in metaphors and how powerfully they can affect not only our everyday lives and personal selves but our country and culture, you’ll be intrigued by Susan Faludi’s The Terror Dream: Fear and Fantasy in Post- 9/11 America (2007). Faludi has meticulously researched the US and, in particular, the media’s response to the terrorist attacks in the days and months that followed. What is astounding…and frightening… is how ardently and ruthlessly the powers-that-be sought to promote and protect their comforting metaphors/myths of male heroes of the day, exaggerating both their potential and actual effectiveness, and marginalizing the efforts of women, both those that helped that day and those that raised uncomfortable questions afterwards.

What I found even more intriguing was Faludi’s theory as to why these deliberate misrepresentations were perpetrated—consciously or subconsciously. She looks at several hundred years of US history when traumatizing Indian attacks on the homesteads of early settlers repeatedly found the men unwilling or unable to protect themselves and their families. Faludi concludes that the myth of the American hero, tough and resourceful, saving the weaker women and children, evolved as a way to assuage the hurting male egos. Faludi backs up her theory with plenty of historical facts and examples that make for a fascinating read.

Included in the book is Faludi’s description of solider Jessica Lunch’s ordeal in Iraq in 2003. A dramatic rescue that was plastered all over the media for weeks turns out to have been basically a staged event. I was reminded of the story recently when America was horrified by yet another mass murder, this time in Fort Hood, Texas, where Major Nidal Hasan killed 13 people. He was shot by Sgt. Kimberly Munley, a civilian police officer, in a gun battle during which she was shot three times.

I happened to be watching the news coverage on MSNBC. Two female reporters gushed over the heroism of Officer Munley. How astounding that a small woman should stop this killing rampage (as if being short and small is a disadvantage when you’re dodging bullets; you might think it would be an advantage not to be a large target!) Nevertheless, their honoring of her heroism seemed genuine. But it was a final comment that got my attention, and called to mind Faludi’s theory. Noting that Officer Munley is the mother of two young children, the reporter added, “As fine a cop as she is—she’s an even better mother!” She offered no information to support this claim beyond the fact that Munley has children.

Now, here’s a civilian police officer, a former solider trained in ‘active shooter scenarios’, a firearms instructor, and a special response team member whose quick and aggressive response is credited with saving a significant number of lives (based on the amount of ammunition found on the suspect)—and this reporter emphasizes her mothering abilities?! I certainly don’t mean to downplay Officer Munley’s courage, skill or heroism, but then, this is what she is trained to do. While I respect all officers for their willingness to put their lives on the line, I would expect no less of a fine and dedicated officer. That she is a woman and mother has nothing to do with it.

All this made me curious: was the MSNBC reporter’s response typical of the media’s, similar in ways to what Faludi describes post 9/11? This time the media was not minimizing Munley’s role in stopping the rampage. If anything she was a media darling, her picture appearing repeatedly, the story on every newspaper’s home/front page. But was it common of the media to maintain a slant to the story that emphasized Munley’s exemplary motherhood? I did a brief and informal survey on the Internet, and while I did, indeed, find numerous headlines or first sentences of articles that read something along the lines of “policewoman and mother Kim Munley…”, overall I did not find an overemphasis on Munley’s sex, parental status or stature or which had a patronizing tone.

Unlike in Faludi’s description of the media’s response to 9/11 or to Jessica Lynch, the media this time did not minimize this female’s officer’s role in incident. If anything, they seized on the opportunity as ‘great copy’. In fact, I feel for Munley’s partner, Sgt. Mark Todd, who responded to the scene with her. In some articles, no mention at all is made of him; in others he is simply identified as “her partner”. Perhaps because he wasn’t shot, he was overlooked. Or maybe it was because he isn’t a 5”2” and 120 pound mother.

So, I’m left with the question: are the times a changin’? Is America rewriting its metaphors of the female ideal–or at least broadening its parameters? Eight years ago, the media airbrushed the female firefighters, EMTs, etc. out of the 9/11 rescue efforts. Six years ago, Pvt. Jessica Lynch became the Army’s poster child for the weak female needing to be rescued. Today, Sgt. Munley is hailed as a brave heroine, but there still seems to be a compelling need to assure ourselves that this female icon is both a solider and a mother.

If you notice other examples of current media mythology about women in the news, please share it with us. Meanwhile, here are some links you may find interesting if you want to read more.

Here’s an article which can give you the flavor of Faludi’s book.

An article by a BBC reporter gives you an idea of how Jessica Lynch’s rescue was staged.

Metaphors and Drug Policy

May 26, 2009

Metaphors matter because they frame the way we think about an issue–and the solutions we consider. I’ve been noticing recently that the Obama administration knows this too. (Guess they’ve read George Lakoff’s Don’t think of an Elephant!(2004).) A few weeks ago Secretary of State Hillary Clinton announced that the administration would no longer be using the term “War on Terror.” This was followed by an announcement by Gil Kerlikowske, the drug czar, that the administration will no longer refer to seeking solutions for the drug problems in this country as a “War on Drugs.”

When we started referring to addressing the drug problem in this country as a war, we started thinking in terms of military/police solutions. Drug users became the enemy, and it was only logical to construe treating their health problems with compassion as being ‘soft on crime.’ Changing this approach when our attack wasn’t succeeding would have been tantamount to surrendering–which no politician wants to do.

I think our war metaphor had an even subtler, more insidious effect. When we started using battle metaphors, we started thinking terms of winners and losers. And pretty soon there was an us vs. them mentality that became so intrinsic a part of our culture that we forgot that us and them are one and the same.

“We’re not at war with people in this country,” said Kerlikowske.

Hallelujah! Maybe now we have an administration that is really ready to reframe drug use–this time as a health issue. And, thinking of Clinton’s quote, that is ready to rethink its approach to healing (rather than combating) the root causes of the anger that fuels people’s resorting to terrorism.

Wonder what new metaphors the administration will come up with? Keep us posted if you spot any.

Just how free are we to choose?

Must we tend our children like we tend our fields?

Are America’s Metaphors about Women Changing?

Metaphors and Drug Policy

Gina Campbell, offering Clean Language trainings since 2005

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