April 18, 2009 · 2:31 pm

"Be good. But if you can’t be good…"


“…be careful!” [Traditional Mancunian maternal admonition to young people, heading out for a good time] In 1960, I was lucky enough to get in on the ground floor of one of the longest-running, universally beloved [the Queen watches] telly shows in the UK, Coronation Street [Corrie, to its fans]. Filmed in Manchester [yeah, yeah, our family has visited the set at Granada Studios], it has portrayed the “rich tapestry” of multi-generational community life in a working-class neighborhood, written and acted with such “kitchen-sink,” warts-and-all authenticity, that the characters become a part of one’s own extended family. All the humor is character-or-plot-driven; and, of course, there is no laugh track. Whether they were so regarded before 1960, all Northerners are now assumed to be witty and wise–the source of such useful aphorisms as, “When in doubt, say nowt [tr. ‘nothing’].”

Profundities come on little cat feet. [See opening Corrie shot.] A child from The Street was feeling poorly and the doctor came round to see what was wrong with her. [Until very recently, GPs made housecalls]. A local shopkeeper asks the Mum what the matter turned out to be, and she replies, “Oh, it were summat and nowt [tr.’something and nothing’].” Don’t you wish that diagnosis were in the ICD-9? It describes so many fleeting ailments, for which Big Pharma wants to sell you an expensive cure. Alas, Summat & Nowt is only available on the National Health, innit?

Consider the societal benefits, if every young person were admonished, “Be good. But if you can’t be good, be careful.” [Sanctimonious hypocrites may need to go lie down for a bit in a darkened room.] [Who am I kidding? They aren’t reading this blog.] [Incidentally, a bit of a lie-down is what GPs prescribe, for a bout of Summat & Nowt.] It acknowledges the wolf. It avoids might-as-well-be-hung-for-a-sheep-as-a-lamb reasoning. [That is, that once a person has strayed from the straight & narrow path of their code of conduct, they rationalize that the day–or their soul–is going to hell, anyway, so they might as well be really self-destructive.]

Although she hailed from Tennessee rather than Manchester, a college friend of mine had the perfect antidote for the sheep-for-a-lamb slippery slope: “Well, the day is long, and I can redeem it.”

In cognitive psychology, sheep-for-a-lamb reasoning is called black & white thinking. Either you adhere perfectly to the code of conduct you were raised with, or you deserve bad outcome. Not to put too fine a point on it, folks, this logic says, “Either you practice abstinence, or you deserve AIDS and/or an unplanned pregnancy.” [Even to carry condoms on your person amounts to premeditated shenanigans.] Well, here’s what I say. Tech-savvy youth of the world, turn this picture of Lili in her raincoat into a Public Service Ad poster, bearing the motto: “Be good. But if you can’t be good, be careful!” Post it wherever condoms are [or should be] available. Help acknowledge the wolf, and reduce the incidence of preventable, undeserved human misery in the world, eh?

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Filed under black and white thinking, understanding shenanigans

April 20, 2009 · 9:17 pm

"The Wolf Is at the Door"


Although we each have our own, personal associations to this metaphor [possibly involving 3 little pigs, Little Red Riding Hood, a Russian boy named Peter, even Kevin Costner…or Sarah Palin?], the received meaning of the phrase for several centuries has been, that one has fallen on hard financial times. [Everything old is new again.]

Since many of these scenarios end with the scary, intrusive wolf being shot dead, it’s a wonder that more bailiffs and repo men don’t get blown away on the beleaguered householder’s doorstep. One could argue that, by doing the dirty work of the householder’s creditors, these “heartless mercenaries” become de facto Silent Partners, who are prepared to destroy the lives of the debtor and his/her family. In many recent lost-his-job-and-went-on-a-killing-spree-including-himself stories, this Silent Partner dynamic is obvious.

But, even for those fortunate enough [for now] to remain solvent, the wolf-at-the-door is an archetypal symbol of threat. To understand why, let’s go back to Vienna, to the 300-year-old Spanish Riding School, for another animal story [attributed to Freud]. The Lippizaners are the horses that do “ballet” [high-level Dressage moves] to Mozart, whose shows are a notoriously hard ticket; but whose rehearsals are open to the public. I like to think that it was while watching such a rehearsal [perhaps seeing a groom leading two high-spirited stallions around the arena] that Freud asked a friend, “Which would you choose–to be pulled apart by two horses, or to be charged by two horses?” If you’re like most people, you would choose to be charged. The usual logic behind this is, “If they’re coming at me, I can try to jump out of the way.” Freud used this metaphor to illustrate the defense mechanism of projection. Rather than feel “torn apart” by two powerful, opposing impulses [such as the urge to act out antisocially vs. the desire to “be good”], an individual externalizes [projects] the impulse to behave badly onto a scapegoat [or wolf], and then tries to “jump out of the way” of it [saying, “That is so not who I am!”]. The problem with this temporary fix, is that the wolf can circle around behind you [called in psychoanalytic parlance–like a B movie title–“The Return of the Repressed”], and thus overpower your good intentions, causing you to act out antisocially, willy-nilly.

So, sometimes, the Big Bad Wolf at the door is not a sinister stranger. It’s an unacknowledged part of ourselves.

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Filed under Freud meant..., lesser of two evils, semiotics, silent partner theory

April 23, 2009 · 2:17 pm

Backgammon (Bear Off)


While both backgammon and chess are war-games, the former is way older [3000 B.C. vs. 600 A.D.] and–in Geneva Conventions terms–way more soldier-friendly. In chess you can sacrifice all your troops, except the King, in the name of victory; whereas in backgammon you cannot win until you rescue all your troops from their captivity [on the Bar], and bear off every last one of them to safety.

Without getting too name-droppy about it, I was lucky enough to meet [separately] with two of Freud’s analysands [his patients], who went on to become noted psychoanalysts [both now dead–this was in the 70s]; and one of them [can’t remember which] told me that Freud preferred the metaphor of backgammon to chess, for the Game of Life. As we slog through the vicissitudes [Freud’s oh-so-prissy translator, Lytton Strachey, chose this term, instead of ups & downs, or snakes & ladders, or swings & roundabouts] of life, we get stuck in some boggy patches. [If A.A. Milne had been Freud’s translator, more people would have gotten the benefit of the useful bits.] These have to do with tricky dilemmas discussed in previous posts [such as “To be smothered with attention, or to be left utterly alone?” and “To be a Goody-Two-Shoes, or to be a Black Sheep?”]. In our earliest struggles, grown-ups represent the opposing side [the Giants, Freud said, because these battles took place When We Were Very Young, therefore, small].

In each of these skirmishes, we lose a few soldiers; but we carry on with our remaining troops, to face the next dust-up. For some people, these encounters are not so bad, and only a few soldiers are lost. For others, it’s a hard-knocks life; and the Bar is crowded with their captive troops. Freud thought of troop strength as the Vital Force [or psychic energy] needed to confront life’s challenges. Let us think of it as blood to the hippocampus, shall we? Not enough of it, and the hippocampus shrivels up, leaving us unable to remember important stuff or to problem-solve. We lose traction. We are in danger of being gammoned or even backgammoned [losing the Game of Life very badly].

So we need to make like the Red Cross [Crescent, whatever], and negotiate for the release of these PoWs. In backgammon, it’s a roll of the dice–if a useful number comes up, a soldier can be liberated and head for home. In real life, we need to go back–to revisit the hard-knock event–and see if we can reframe it in such a way that we get the captive soldier back. The most current treatment for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder encourages the individual to recollect the traumatic event: to write about it, or to talk about it into a taperecorder and listen to it repeatedly, until it loses its power to arouse the amygdala. Then the “wolf-work” can begin. “What got up your nose, about the event?” “Are you bummed because you lost a buddy, or do you blame yourself for his/her loss?”

As in all real wars, we may never recover all the fallen or captive soldiers, but it is vitally important that we try. Those who say that we should simply “Move on,” from traumatic events, without any attempt to understand what really happened–what we were thinking, what got up our nose–are ignoring human nature and brain physiology. What we have not acknowledged and understood, we are likely to act out–against ourselves and others. Before we can truly move on, we need to look back.

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Filed under Freud meant..., gets right up my nose, limbic system, post-traumatic stress

April 29, 2009 · 9:31 pm

Crazy Like a Fox


Remember the post called Hayfever? Let’s say you wanted to avoid the common symptoms of that “dreadful lurgy,” so you invested in the latest over-the-counter nostrum for it. I know this will sound like one of Stephen Colbert’s sotto voce adverse-side-effects-warnings for a bogus health product, but I’m quoting from the PDR: “Somnolence [needing a nap RIGHT NOW], fatigue, dry mouth, pharyngitis [sore throat], dizziness, headache, GI upset/pain, cough, diarrhea, epistaxis [nosebleed], brochospasm, irritability, insomnia.” Sort of like Mexican Swine Flu in a bottle, no?

Psychodynamic theory [the kid brother to Freudian psychoanalysis] posits that whenever an individual faces a choice between two courses of action, s/he is ambivalent [“on the one hand…on the other hand”], but ultimately, s/he chooses the one that seems like “the lesser of two evils.” It is, however, a matter of personal opinion, as to which would be worse–sniffles & sneezing, or the daunting list of side-effects listed above.

Same with the Four Horsemen of What Gets Up Your Nose & Makes You Angry. We humans, as well as Lili the dog, “do the math” in our heads, calculating which of two irritants will cause us less misery, and choose accordingly. Let’s put some meat on the bones of this theory. A young woman dreads the humiliation of being judged “less than Vogue model thin,” so she opts for the pain & suffering of an Eating Disorder. A teenager cannot abide the intrusion of parental limits, so s/he runs away, opting for the fear of “being on your own, with no direction home…like a rolling stone” and having to make a deal with the skeevy dude in the song, who’s “not offering any alibis.” In either case, the casual observer might say, “You’re crazy to ruin your health, just to be a Size 2,” or “to risk your life, just to play by your own rules.” The individual who has made the choice thinks, “Yeah, crazy like a fox.”

Back in the day, I treated a young woman in Detroit who kept losing high-powered jobs because she was chronically late for work; and once there, stole money from her boss. How could this possibly be the lesser of two evils? [Even in the 90s, good jobs in Detroit did not grow on trees.] What could be worse? Well, submission to The Man was worse, in her book. She was willing to risk the financial pain & suffering of job loss, and the fear of her husband’s disapproval [that she had “screwed up again…what are you, crazy?”], rather than endure the humiliation of having to play by the same rules as everybody else. Once she grasped this, she was able to find less self-defeating ways to rebel [such as wearing a Che T-shirt under her corporate suit].

So, look at Lili and guess what trade-out of irritants she is making. Is some predator after her [causing fear]? Is there an intruder up the hill, whom she feels she must challenge? Was she told [by my husband, who took this picture] to stay put [“Zen-zen!”], and she cannot abide the humiliation of obeying his command? Actually, I am hiding behind a tree at the top of the hill, and she is rushing to join me, to avoid the pain & suffering of abandonment. [As if!]

Next time you’re faced with a Hobson’s choice of potentially risky actions, you do the math.

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Filed under aggression happens, ambivalence, lesser of two evils, understanding shenanigans

May 1, 2009 · 1:02 am

Give it some welly!


This idiom from the UK in the 70s means “Do your utmost!” In my youth, especially when my sister & I were sitting around, engrossed in a game of Cribbage or War [or some other frivilous activity], our father would ask us to fetch him a beer; and we would stall him, saying, “Aww, not now. When this game is over.” He would retort, “C’mon, how many Therbligs would it cost you?” The Therblig is a unit of effort, devised in 1908 by Frank Burke Gilbreth [inventor of Time & Motion analysis, and the author of Cheaper by the Dozen], to quantify units of work [such as search, find, select, grasp, hold, and so on]. It’s an anagram for “Gilbreth” (sort of). It’s definitely a metaphor.

Talk about “doing the math,” we all can make instant calculations of how many Therbligs it would cost us to do a task for a Loved One who asks us; and it is human nature to expect a quid pro quo. If we expend more Therbligs than we receive credit for [in praise, gratitude, success, financial recompense, or other forms of positive reinforcement], we experience the humiliation of having been “hoodwinked” [schmized] into doing something “for nothing.” Let’s say we use up a certain amount of Therbligs studying for a test, and then flunk it anyway. [Or training for an athletic event, and then lose.] For some individuals, the misery of having “put it all on the line” and still failed, is so mortifying that they write themselves a life-long, face-saving Note to Self: “Never Let Them See You Sweat.” In fact, the Note advises, “Make It Obvious That You Didn’t Try Very Hard, at All.” Then, if you don’t succeed, you have only the pain & suffering of your loss to cope with–not the mortification, as well.

It takes a certain amount of bravery, such as Lord Louis Montbatten urged, to risk the humiliation of defeat, by “giving it some welly”–going at your goal full-tilt boogie–knowing that the you may still be judged to have done the thing “badly.”

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Filed under ambivalence, lesser of two evils, therbligs

May 4, 2009 · 3:04 pm

"Chotto matte!"


In 2007, the pre-frontal cortex emerged, from the cinder-strewn hearth of neuro-anatomical and behavioral research, to the dazzling ballroom of the chattering classes–conveyed thither by a New Yorker cartoon. Parents, to their fashionably disheveled adolescent son: “Young man, go to your room and stay there until your cerebral cortex matures.”

Who knew? Turns out Disney was right. There’s a Jiminy Cricket area of the cerebral cortex, that acts like a Hollywood producer–red-lighting or green-lighting various hare-brained scenarios the amygdala pitches to it: “Too risky! Have to run that by legal. Too controversial! We’ll alienate our demographic. Will it be banned in Boston? Condemned in Cleveland? Banished in Baltimore? Better lose some of the obscenity, but keep the gratuitous violence.”

One slight glitch. As the New Yorker cartoon implies, you can’t hurry “Good Taste, Good Judgement, and Self-Control.” [Anyone who recognizes that phrase went to Duke before 1968.] The pre-frontal cortex doesn’t reliably begin to exercise Exective Function until one’s mid-2os. [Results may vary, depending on Nature, Nurture, and Proximal Events.] For the purpose of mounting a legal defense, “Proximal Events” have been known to include temporary insanity, due to jealousy [la crime passionel], circadian rhythm disruption, and/or Twinky toxicity.

Incidentally, in the 1980s neuro-anatomical researchers were publishing articles tracing the pathways of the dog’s pre-frontal cortex to various other brain areas, thereby scandalizing the ethological community, who had insisted a priori, that one had to be at least a primate, dear, to have impulse control. How old were the dogs in the research study, I wonder? Had they matured past that harum-scarum phase, where all rabbits are fair game…well, let’s face it, where all game is fair game? Here’s a fun fact: predator [carnivore] animals have a relatively larger cerebral cortex [and a relatively shorter gut], than prey [herbivore] animals. Not to get too anthropomorphic about it, it takes alot more Executive Function [not to mention Therbligs], to find, select, and pounce on a sentient, mobile animal, than on a stationary plant [pace Prince Charles…who talks to plants…but hunts foxes…oh, never mind].

My favorite nemesis, Big Pharma, is even now working on a drug to hasten the growth of the pre-frontal cortex. There should be a contest, to predict what the adverse side-effects [or unintended consequences] of such a drug will be. Those of us who studied psychology in the 60s recall that in the 1950s the panacea for all manner of “insanity”[ranging from schizophrenia, to mood disorders, to antisocial behavior] was the Pre-frontal Lobotomy, wherein all connections between the pre-frontal cortex and the rest of the brain were surgically severed. Those who studied Filmography, instead, will tell you that Frankenstein was the research scientist, not the monster.

Before that Brave New World comes to pass, the best course of action, for enhancing the self-control of dogs, young people, and those of us with Overactive Amygdala Syndrome, is the daily exercise of what pre-frontal cortex we do have. First of all, make sure it gets enough blood flow [by identifying what is getting Up the Nose of the amygdala].

For what is second of all, readers will have to “Chotto Matte” [Japanese for wait a little while], for the next post.

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Filed under ethology, gets right up my nose, murky research

May 5, 2009 · 8:04 pm

"Crime and Punishment"


We’re talking Dostoevsky’s pre-Russian-revolution novel, which has what a Hollywood producer would call a “high-concept title” [like “Snakes on a Plane”]. We’re also talking Kohlberg’s first stage of moral development: “If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.” So, that Note to Self takes 22 years of living and learning to develop? [In humans, that is. Still no word on how long it takes in dogs.]

Alas, doing the Right Thing turns out to be a bit more complicated than just following the rules. To begin with, whose rules? In the Royal Navy they have a little [inside] joke: “We have a code. We don’t live by it, but we have a code.” In the 1970s Marvin Harris, an Anthropology prof at Columbia, published an instant cult classic [in my reference group, anyway]: Cows, Pigs, Wars & Witches. His premise was that the Code of Conduct is not universal, but regional, often determined by geographical considerations, such as weather patterns. Thus, in the Subcontinent, where it is very dry except for the monsoon season, if no rains come one year, a farmer might be tempted to eat his draft animal, it being pointless that year to use it to plow the arid soil. Ah! But if he does, then next year when the rains come again, he will be SOL. So this culture devised the no-eating-cattle taboo, to keep the idle beasts off the menu, preserving them to plow another year. Hence, the Sacred Cow.

My generation of social scientists took this model and ran with it, seizing on every cockamamie cultural taboo we could find, and asking: “What’s the local survival payoff? Does it involve the health & safety of the community?” Thou shalt not eat oysters in months without Rs. [Hint, cuz it’s hotter then, at least in the Northern Hemisphere.] Play along at home.

Now comes along another anthropologist, Jonathan Haidt, with his 5 Moral Spheres, the relative importance of which vary by geographical region and [intriguingly] by political leaning. Liberals are all about Do No Harm to Others, and Social Justice for All; whereas Conservatives are all about Be True to Your School [or Tribe, or Reference Group], Respect Authority, and Remain Pure. This is why it takes so long to stock the brain’s Code of Conduct library. Back in the day, when people tended to live their lives where they were born, and didn’t have so much access to information about other places and their exotic folkways, it was easier to know what the Right Thing to Do was. Nowadays, not so much.

Reductionists insist that there are–always were, always will be–absolute commandments, so to speak, concerning the human Code of Conduct. “Thou shalt not kill,” for instance. Do me a favor, guv! What about combat troops? Are they supposed to kill no one? So, why do we spend so much on weapons? “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Oh, so we’re cool with extreme interrogation methods being used against our troops? Once again, I invite you to play along at home. Find me a rule, in any Code of Conduct, that applies to everyone, without exception.

Which brings us back to Dostoevsky’s fictional student, Raskolnikov, a Nihilist [Remember Durkheim’s WTF anomie?], who had just written an article on moral philosophy, justifying the killing of undesirable individuals for the greater good of society. He murders a “disgusting, old, dishonest” pawnbroker, and then has to do away with her friend, who witnessed the incident. The rest of the book is a psychological cat & mouse game between the student and the detective assigned to the murder case, Porfiry Petrovitch.

So, it all depends on “when you come in to the movie,” whether you think a specific act of aggression should be lauded or condemned. In this scene, is Lili in jail for her acts of unjustified aggression, or is she policing other incarcerated individuals? Plot twist: she’s returning to the scene of her two crimes–the Lacrosse field–where the little boy “rattled her cage”and she growled at him, and where she ran up the hill to challenge the out-of-the-blue dog. Spoiler alert: Raskolnikov does, too.

So, the “second of all” thing to do, to promote development of the Pre-frontal cortex, is to learn from our own trespasses [and, far less costly, from those of compelling fictional characters]. As the London cabbie’s brain actually expands when he gains The Knowledge [the cognitive map of the city], so our Pre-frontal cortex grows, as we lay down ever more complex pathways for navigating between Right and Wrong.

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Filed under aggression happens, lesser of two evils, pro bono publico

May 7, 2009 · 5:24 pm

"Yoshi!"


In high school we put on a Sigmund Romberg operetta which included a cynical little ditty about Being Good: “Always do what people say you should. You never can be happy, child, unless you’re good. I did what I was told. I was as good as gold. And I know I shall be happy, cuz I am so good.” If sung sarcastically enough, it always brought the house down.

At the risk of sounding like a curmudgeon, I recommend Romberg to modern fMRI researchers on altruism. The most frequently cited study involves 19 graduate students [in good health], who voluntarily participated in a study in which a radio-active isotope was “introduced” into their bloodstream. They were given a starting “float” of $128 each, which they could opt to keep or to donate [some of] “anonymously” to various charitable causes. The headline finding of the study was that [gasp!] the same part of the brain lit up when a participant gave away money, as when they received it. I call “Sampling Error!” I would like to see this result replicated, using 19 [or 190] randomly selected people, from all walks of life, including, oh, for instance, the have-nots. I put it to you, that these volunteers were no more “a cross-section of humanity,” than the folks who answer the phones for a PBS pledge drive. It takes a certain level of altruism to agree to go radio-active, not to diagnose or treat a serious health problem of one’s own, but simply to “further theoretical knowledge about in-born altruism.” Don’t you think?

More to the point, these volunteers were all 20-Somethings, already “in the zone” for having an up-and-running Pre-frontal cortex, as well as millions of stored memories associating Being Good with Getting a Reward. Why does Lili shut open doors? Out of save-the-earth’s-resources Green-ness? To make herself feel like a [very specialized] service dog? I believe she does it because I took the time [10 minutes] to lay down neural pathways in her brain between the command “Shimaru,” her shutting the door, the praise word “Yoshi!” (Good job!), and a small ort of dried lamb lung. Now, she need only be intermittently reinforced with the morsel of food [or even just with praise] to keep the behavior in her repertoire. Mostly, we mark and reinforce all kinds of pro-social behavior, simply by telling her “Yoshi!” And, folks, she’s just a dog, not a graduate student.

I’m saying, I think the 19 so-frequently-cited subjects [just listen for it, next pledge week] were all sub-vocalizing their personalized version of Romberg’s “So Good” song, right up there in their cerebral cortex; and the reason their Reward Center lit up when they were Being Good was because of a conditioned response. Yikes! That makes me sound like a Behaviorist! [Which I’m not. Well, only on the weekends.]

This stuff matters, because the ugly step-sister of fMRI research on Being Good is research on what used to be called psychopaths, suggesting that there are neuro-anatomical [perhaps even genetic] differences in their brains, that predispose them to anti-social behavior. This is chillingly reminiscent of eugenics, if you ask me; and much of it is based on the same methodologically flawed research design as the 19 Altruists study.

I believe that experience is at least as important a determinant of behavior as DNA. If it isn’t, why even bother to lay down neural pathways rewarding Good Deeds? Why ever say “Yoshi”?

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Filed under murky research, pro bono publico

May 11, 2009 · 2:11 pm

"Hearthrug!"


Jus’ like ol’ Rhymin’ Simon says, “Detroit, Detroit got a hell of a hockey team.” In honor of whom, today’s post will use a sports metaphor. Our dog trainer left two commands to the discretion of the dog owner. The first, today’s topic, was to be in English [not Japanese], so that visitors to one’s home could easily use it [without consulting the cue card of Japanese commands we hand all who enter here]. We were to designate an area in the home as the Penalty Box, to which the dog would be sent, briefly, for incidents of “unnecessary roughness” [to borrow a sports term]. No G-water would be served there, however. In our household, typical infractions include: too vigorous herding of our 3 cats, too emphatic barking at intruding neighborhood dogs on our property, and–most egregiously–challenging guests who have been designated by the Management as “Welcome.” A second guest-challenge results in being tethered, by a longish leash, to the hearthrug area, and commanded to “Fuse” [pronounced Foo-say, lie down]; and a third challenge results in being sent off to the “locker room” [her downstairs dogroom, which is larger and more comfortably furnished than either of my kids’ college dorm rooms].

The hockey metaphor is apt, because no one in this household is kidding themselves that Lili subscribes to a policy of absolute non-violence. There is presumed in hockey to be a certain degree of “necessary roughness” [euphemized as “checking”] that is part of the game. I grew up hearing droll Midshipmen at Dahlgren Hall hockey matches chant, “Impede him! Impede him! Make him relinquish the puck!” Likewise, another old chestnut from Coronation Street is “Why keep a dog and bark, yourself?” The English telly dog trainer, Victoria Stillwell, advises that when one’s dog first barks to announce the approach to one’s home of a non-resident, one should say “Thank you!” [in our case, “Arigato!”], since that is what dogs were bred to do. Only if the dog carries on barking after being thanked, should s/he be corrected.

Let us apply this principle to the barking dog in our head [the amygdala]. It was “bred” to warn us of potential danger. [It’s just trying to keep us alive. Give it a break, already…and maybe some G-water.] Upon first noticing our hackles rise, we should be grateful. It means we’re alive and taking notice of our surroundings. Now, let’s assess the threat: pain & suffering, or just fear, or an annoying intrusion, or our old nemesis, humiliation? At this point, the barking dog should “belt up,” so we can start dealing with the situation.

But, what if it doesn’t “belt up”? What if it winds itself up into a frenzy of over-the-top, adrenaline-fuelled fury? Well, then, we need our own personal command to send it to the Penalty Box. [Coincidentally, in Cognitive Therapy, this is often called “Thought Checking.”] Here’s where the Emotive Speech Function can help. Back in the day, well-brought-up English boys were trained to say “Rats!” [as opposed to an actual oscenity or profanity], whereas girls were encouraged to say “Crumbs!” These quaint bowdlerisms are fun to collect: “Crikey!” “Gor blimey!” “Gordon Bennet!” Whatever the outcry, the meaning–to others and to oneself–is clear: “rush of blood to the head” [amygdala]…”am about to flee, fight, or freeze”…”need to chill.” Interestingly, although being told by another person to “chill” or “relax” [melded these days into “chillax”], only increases one’s sense of humiliation, telling oneself “You must chill!” is often just the ticket, to drain the adrenaline, stop flailing around, and start dealing.

Personally, these days I tell myself “Hearthrug!” [Incidentally, I have never had G-water. It might be vile. I just notice it’s what the Red Wings drink, while chillaxing in the Penalty Box.]

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Filed under aggression happens, leading a pack, limbic system, pragmatics

May 19, 2009 · 2:44 pm

Dog Eat Dog


Lili is “on vacation” this week, chillaxing at the Ashram while we visit our “other” daughters in Chicago and SoCal. She’ll be back next week. Meanwhile, meet Napster and Zanzibar, both rescue cats–as different as night & day, in nature and life experience. Napster came to us as a kitten 9 years ago, joining two old biddie female cats, and immediately assumed the omega position in the “pack.” [He’s a ‘fraidy cat.] Six years later, after the passing of one of the old cats, young Zanzibar came out of the West, fresh from a gig in Chino, California–charismatic, affable, and totally alpha.

Our topic today is zero-sum-gaming: the perception that all endeavors in life–not just hockey and beauty pageants–yield one winner [and a bunch of losers]. The amygdala is a big player here, ever on the alert for the Big Four threats to our sense of well-being. Let’s visit the luxurious Fitness Center at the Drake Hotel at dawn, shall we? Spoiled by two decades of in-home exercise equipment, where the dress code is casual [no threat of humiliation] and long-established family schedules assure no waiting [intrusion] for one’s machine of choice, when staying at a hotel I always try to beat the crowd by being the early bird. So, at 0-dark-hundred I am alone, halfway through my usual routine, grooving to an eclectic [some would say eccentric] set of songs on my iPod, eyes shut, when I sense the body heat of another, on the nearest elliptical [there being no less than 7 others he could have chosen]. I have no fear, except for his welfare, given the audible signs of his pain & suffering. [Will I have to administer CPR?] I try to imagine his motives in choosing that particular machine. [“Of all the ginjoints in all the world…”] Need for affiliation? For affection? For affirmation? As I finish, so does he, whistling his way into the elevator, then remarking, “That’s not even half of what I usually do. I had a late night. I’ll come back this afternoon and do a real workout.” Of course! It is a zero-sum game! Although I am probably 20 years his senior–and female–I am the only game in town; and he is playing to win. So, trying for the unilateral disarmament [“Why can’t we all just get along?”] option, I reply, “Hey! At least you showed up and showed willing. We are both to be commended for our efforts, at this early hour, don’t you think?” [No, he does not.] “I’ll do better this afternoon,” says he. [Subtext: I’m guessing he does not mean “better than I did this morning,” he means “better than you.”]

This time, I was amused; but how many times a day do I–do you–engage in equally petty zero-sum-gamesmanship? Everything can become a contest: “I am a nicer person than you.” “Oh, yeah? Well, I am more aware of my inner wolf than you.” What contests of “wonderfulness” do you enter, on a regular basis? [We can’t all be Miss Congeniality.] I’m not saying, don’t enter. Just notice that you’re in, and ask yourself, “What do I win, if I win?”

Zanzibar has been a tonic for Napster. They happily play-fight all the time, and sometimes double-team old Ruth, who is pushing 20, and not amused. However, they must be fed in separate rooms, or Zanzibar would leave the other two starving. He is also Lili’s best friend, licking her ears when she is asleep and allowing himself to be herded when she is awake. They seem to have devised a fragile non-aggression pact. If a cat and a dog can do it, folks, can’t we?

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Filed under pro bono publico, semiotics, zero-sum-gaming