Using Your Brain —for a CHANGE
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How many of you are haunted by thoughts? You say to yourself, "I wish I could get it out of my head." But isn't it amazing that you got it in there in the first place! Brains are really phenomenal. The things they'll get you to do are absolutely amazing. The problem with brains is not that they can't learn, as we have been told all too often. The problem with brains is that they learn things too quickly and too well. For example, think of a phobia. It's an amazing thing to be able to remember to get terrified every time you see a spider. You never find a phobic looking at a spider and saying, "Oh damn, I forgot to be afraid." Are there a few things you'd like to learn that thoroughly? When : you think about it that way, having a phobia is a tremendous learning achievement. And if you go into the person's history, you often find that it was one–trial learning: it took only one instantaneous experience for that person to learn something so thoroughly that she'll remember it for the rest of her life.
How many of you have read about Pavlov and his dogs and the bell, and all that stuff? . . . and how many of you are salivating right now? They had to put the dog in a harness and ring the bell and give it food over and over again to teach it that response. All you did was read about it, and you have the same response the dog had. It's no big thing, but it is an indication of how rapidly your brain can learn. You can learn faster than any computer. What we need to know more about is the subjective experience of learning, so that you can direct your learning and have more control over your own experience and what you learn.
Are you familiar with the "our song" phenomenon? During a period of time when you were with someone very special, you had a favorite song you listened to a lot. Now whenever you hear that song, you think of that person and feel those good feelings again. It works just like Pavlov and salivation. Most people have no idea how easy it is to link experiences in that way, or how quickly you can make it happen if you do it systematically.
I once saw a therapist create an agoraphobic in one session. This therapist was a nice, well–intentioned man who liked his patients. He had years of clinical training, but he had no idea what he was doing. His client came in with a specific phobia of heights. The therapist told this guy to close his eyes and think about heights, Urrp—the guy flushes and starts to tremble. "Now think of something that would reassure you." Ummn. Now think about heights. Urrp. "Now think about comfortably driving your car." Ummn. "Now think about heights." Urrp. . . . This guy ended up having phobic feelings about nearly everything in his life — what's often called agoraphobia. What the therapist did was brilliant, in a way. He changed his client's feelings by linking experiences. His choice of a feeling to generalize is not my idea of the best choice, however. He linked this man's feelings of panic to all the contexts that used to be reassuring in his life. You can use exactly the same process to take a good feeling and generalize it in the same way If that therapist had understood the process he was using, he could have turned it around.
I've seen the same thing happen in couple therapy. The wife starts complaining about something the husband did, and the therapist says, "Look at your husband while you say that. You've got to have eye contact." That will connect all those bad feelings to the sight of her husband's face, so that every time she looks at him, she'll have those bad feelings.
Virginia Satir uses the same process in family therapy, but she turns it around. She asks a couple about special times in their early courting days, and when they start glowing, then she has them look at each other. She might say something like, "And I want you to realize that this is the same person you fell so deeply in love with ten years ago." That connects an entirely different feeling — generally a much more useful one — to the spouse's face.
One couple that came to see me had been in therapy with someone else for some time, but they still fought. They used to fight all the time at home, but when they came to me, they only fought in the therapist's office. The therapist probably said something like, "Now I want you to save all your fights for our sessions together so I can observe how you do it."
I wanted to find out if fighting was linked to the therapist or his office, so I had them experiment. I found out that if they went to the therapist's office when he wasn't there, they didn't argue, but if he held a session at their home, they did argue. So I just told them not to see that therapist any more. It was a simple solution that saved them a lot of money and trouble.
One client of mine couldn't get angry, because he would immediately get extremely scared. You could say he had a phobia of being angry. It turned out that when he was a child, any time he got mad, his parents got furious and scared him into the middle of next week, so those two feelings got linked together. He was own and hadn't lived with his parents for fifteen years, but he still responded that way.
I came to the world of personal change from the world of mathematics and information science. Computer people typically don't want the things in their field to have anything to do with people. They refer to that as "getting your hands dirty." They like to work with shiny computers and wear white lab jackets. But I found out that there is no better representation of the way in which my mind works — especially in terms of limitations — than a computer. Trying to get a computer to do something — no matter how simple — is much like trying to get a person to do something.
Most of you have seen computer games. Even the simplest ones are quite difficult to program, because you have to use the very limited mechanisms the machine has for communication. When you instruct it to do something that it can do, your instruction has to be precisely organized in such a way that the information can be processed so that the computer can perform the task. Brains, like computers, are not "user–friendly." They do exactly what they're told to do, not what you want them to do. Then you get mad at them because they don't do what you meant to tell them to do!
One programming task is called modeling, which is what I do. The task of modeling is to get a computer to do something that a human can do. How do you get a machine to evaluate something, do a math problem, or turn a light on or off at the right time? Human beings can turn a light on and off, or do a math problem. Some do it well, others do it well sometimes, and some don't do it well at all. A modeler attempts to take the best representation for the way a person does a task, and make it available in a machine. I don't care if that representation really is how people do the task. Modelers don't have to have truth. All we have to have is something that works. We are the people who make cookbooks. We don't want to know why it is a chocolate cake, we want to know what to put in it to make it come out right. Knowing one recipe doesn't mean there aren't lots of other ways to do it. We want to know how to get from the ingredients to chocolate cake in a step–by–step fashion. We also want to know now to take chocolate cake and work backwards to the ingredients when someone doesn't want us to have the recipe.
Breaking down information in this way is the task of an information scientist. The most interesting information that you can learn about is the subjectivity of another human being. If somebody can do something, we want to model that behavior and our models are of subjective experience. "What does she do inside her head that I can learn to do?" I can't instantly have her years of experience and the fine tuning which that produces, but I can very rapidly get some great information about the structure of what she does.
When I first started modeling, it seemed logical to find out what psychology had already learned about how people think, But when I looked into psychology, I discovered that the field consisted primarily of a huge number of descriptions about how people were broken. There were a few vague descriptions of what it meant to be a "whole person," or "actualized," or "integrated," but mostly there were descriptions about the various ways in which people were broken.
The current Diagnostic and Statistical Manual HI used by psychiatrists and psychologists has over 450 pages of descriptions of how people can be broken, but not a single page describing health. Schizophrenia is a very prestigious way to be broken; catatonia is a very quiet way. Although hysterical paralysis was very popular during World War I, it's out of style now; you only find it occasionally in very poorly–educated immigrants who are out of touch with the times. You're lucky if you can find one now. I've only seen five in the past seven years, and two of them I made myself, using hypnosis. "Borderline" is a very popular way to be broken right now. That means you're not quite nuts, but not quite normal, either — as if anyone isn't! Back in the fifties, after The Three Faces of Eve, multiple personalities always had three. But since Sybil, who had seventeen personalities, we're seeing more multiples, and they all have more than three.