Sunday, July 25, 2010

Our Two Selves

We should not pretend to understand the world only by the intellect; we apprehend it just as much by feeling. Therefore, the judgment of the intellect is, at best, only the half of truth, and must, if it be honest, also come to an understanding of its inadequacy.
—Carl Jung

Much of my worldview is based on the idea that our minds are modular (so I figure that I might as well make this post sooner rather than later so that I can just refer back to it in the future). The extent of modularity is debated, but I focus on one major demarcation: that between our conscious mind and our unconscious mind. By necessity, this overview will be an oversimplification, but it will (I hope) suffice as a first approximation.* The two systems are characterized as follows:

  • Conscious vs. Unconscious
  • Cognitive vs. Emotional
  • Controlled vs. Automatic
  • Reason vs. Passion
  • Rational vs. Irrational
  • Deductive vs. Intuitive
  • Reflective vs. Reactive
  • Effortful vs. Effortless
  • Cool vs. Hot
  • Slow vs. Fast

Whereas the unconscious system is thought to be largely instantiated in the limbic system (and other primordial brain systems that we share with non-human animals), the conscious system is thought be instantiated in the prefrontal cortex.

For some, this will be a novel idea. For others, this explanation will resonate as being intuitively true. Indeed, numerous thinkers throughout the years have spoken about these two systems. Take, for instance, (St.) Paul’s distinction when he said that “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” Or Medea’s introspection that “Desire and reason are pulling in different directions. I see the right way and approve it, but follow the wrong.” Similarly, Budhha used a metaphor of an elephant and its rider: “In days gone by, this mind of mine used to stray wherever selfish desire or lust or pleasure would lead it. Today this mind does not stray and is under the harmony of control, even as a wild elephant is controlled by the trainer.” For those familiar with Freudian psychology, these systems map onto the ego and the id.

This division explains diverse phenomena, such as the phenomenology of self-control, optical illusions, why you can fall “in love” with someone that you “know” isn’t right for you, why you (or I, at least) have a difficult time with calculus but can instinctively compute the ballistic trajectory of a ball flying through the air in order to catch it, moral intuitions, and judgment and decision-making biases/heuristics in general.

Going back to the metaphor of an elephant and its rider...although many people tend to identify with and assign primacy to the rider (myself included…I do study self-control after all), I feel that the unconscious often gets the short shrift. The elephant actually “knows” and does more than the rider. I’m not sure who actually said it, but s/he was right that “the heart has reasons that reason knows not.” Or, as Jung said, “Emotion is the chief source of all becoming-conscious. There can be no transforming of darkness into light and of apathy into movement without emotion.” Feelings are (or at least should be) "inputs" in decisions that involve logic. Logic provides the structure for making decisions, but feelings, intuition, etc. are the foundations of good reasoning. In Gulliver's Travels, Swift put the Houyhnhnms' use of reason/logic on a pedestal, but I don't believe it is possible to have "pure reason." In terms of a logical syllogism, we will always come down to a fundamental premise that cannot be rationalized. As an example, ask yourself why you did something (anything). You can rationalize, but eventually, the answer will be something like “because I felt like it,” “because I believe that it is the right thing to do,” or “because God/Buddha/Muhammad/Krisha/etc. said so.” Logic applied to anything that is worthwhile is useless without "irrational" feelings, values, and intuitions. Emotions/intuitions are the foundations or axioms of our logic...they are or at least should be allies, not antagonists (as they are often characterized). I, for one, tend to overthink things and am probably worse off because of it. One challenge for me is to figure out when to just trust my heart/gut/instincts. We are not just the rider (or the elephant). We are both.

*For more on these two systems, see the first chapters of The Happiness Hypothesis by John Haidt and Nudge by Richard Thaler and Cass Sunstein.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Foreword (and forward)

Due mostly to this thing called graduate school, this is my first time blogging in about three years. I mostly didn’t blog because I didn’t have time, but also because the banal routine of my life would probably bore you to tears. It would go something like this: woke up, went to the office, worked on some research, went to class, went home, studied, went to sleep, wash, repeat. Then again, even if my life is boring, I can always share my thoughts and ideas, right? Well, I’ve also come to realize that practically nothing that I think of or say is novel. As Thoreau said, “These same questions that disturb and puzzle and confound us have in their turn occurred to all the wise men; not one has been omitted; and each has answered them, according to his ability, by his words and his life.” Furthermore, in addition to just not having a very interesting life and not having anything original to say, my writing style is not very (or even somewhat) riveting. Language, written or otherwise, has never come easy to me. If you saw my first essay when I started college, you probably would have told me that I should probably reconsider going to college. But I learned, and am still learning.

Right, so long story short (or somewhat/relatively short). Why blog? For one, to connect on a deeper level with those of you who care. That’s right, both of you. Joking (I hope) aside, I want to hear what people have to say. I pride myself in having a motley yet wise (in one sense or another) group of friends. I want to hear your perspective. Second, to grow as a person. My personal philosophy is eclectic, and as a result, somewhat incoherent. In his poem entitled, “Song of Myself,” Walt Whitman said, “Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself. I am large. I contain multitudes.” If I’ve learned anything from studying psychology, it’s that humans are complex and multifaceted. We contradict ourselves. We are full of inconsistencies. Although it may be an (asymptotically) unattainable goal, I seek a coherent philosophy. I want to know the flaws and inconsistencies in my beliefs (or at least just things/perspectives that I’ve never thought of before). Think of it as a form of peer review. I want to hear your thoughts, “perception checks,” comments, questions, and criticism.

Some of my posts will inevitably sound like bragging, a call for sympathy, or just inane rambling. On my old blog, I had a saying (which I think is original, but it very well may not be): “If I make a happy post, my critics will say that I’m bragging. If I make a sad post, the critics will say that I want sympathy. If I do neither of the above, then the critics will say I am dull. My advice is to not care too much about what others think. If you try to please everyone, you will end up pleasing nobody.” This is life, my life in particular. It is laudable at times, pitiable at others, and just plain mundane most of the time.

Although a part of me wants to say that I don’t care about what others think, I care very deeply about what some people think, particularly, the people who are most likely to read this. That said, I agree to an extent with Dr. Seuss when he said, “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.” I don’t completely agree because I expect (and hope) that the people who matter will occasionally take issue with what I say. We are diverse, have our idiosyncratic values and beliefs, and inevitably will have difference of opinions. Naturalistic fallacy aside, that’s the way it is, and it’s good.

We live in an information age where knowledge is abundant but true wisdom is rare. In Jorge Luis Borges’ The Library of Babel, the titular (Lisa’s giggling right now and she doesn’t know why) library contains tomes with every possible combination of letters, thus ensuring that the profound truths of the universe are included (as well as the complete works of Bill Shakespeare). On the other hand, this also means that most of the books are gibberish and that finding the wisdom is a near-impossible feat. Moral? Although everything may have been said before, that doesn’t mean that it’s all interesting, relevant, or true. That said, I am confident that, together (i.e., your brilliant intellect and my propensity to ask, “but why?”), we can separate at least some of the wisdom from the chaff.

Like my philosophy, this blog will be dynamic and will be updated and revised as I learn new things from you (as well as other sources). People have a tendency to not comment on old blogs, but I encourage you to, regardless of whether (1) you have only recently had an epiphany and want to share, (2) you have just stumbled upon this blog and are just now going through the archive, or (3) not otherwise specified (NOS). If you do not wish to make your comments public, please send me a private message. Finally, if you have a blog, please send me the link.