Description
"Why do we do what we do?"
Google that phrase. You'll bring up self-help speeches by Tony Robbins, the Amazon page for the book
The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg, an article on a
New York Times blog, a
Harvard Business Review blog, and many other references links to blogs, book reviews, news articles, etc. There's no shortage of pondering about the reasons behind our actions. But up until a few months ago, I thought of the answers only in terms of philosophical conjecture, with theorized assumptions about human behavior.
But then in March I stumbled across a neuroscience textbook in a small thrift shop while driving through the frozen and snow covered plains of Idaho.
And I'd just been thinking about reading a book on neuroscience! I thought to myself as I thumbed through the pages. I'd been planning to read something more friendly to the liberal arts student, but if it was going to land in my way, I was going to read it.
It was published in 1996, but I figured I could catch up with some other, more recent things that had happened since then. As it turned out, there was quite a lot - the textbook doesn't even mention the MRI or fMRI until the last chapter. Any neuroscience book on the shelves today will be at least 75% filled with references to lessons from MRI studies.
But I learned a hell of a lot anyways, since much of our knowledge comes from animal studies. Like it or not you animal rights activists, but most of the time what we know about how the brain works comes from sticking electrodes into the brain of monkeys (or other primates, like college students) and mice. And then I kept it up with more books that report on what we've learned about the brain and what we can do with that information:
The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg,
Imagine by Jonah Lehrer,
Brain Rules by John Medina, and
An Alchemy of Mind by Diane Ackerman. Let me tell you, I recommend any of those books even if you haven't read a neuroscience textbook, but I was just glad I had read the textbook so I was already familiar with the parts of the brain these authors reference in their books.
And after all this studying up on the science of the brain, you know what I've learned: most of what we do is more reaction than action.
Think about it: our brains are wired to react to events in split-second increments. Most of the time, we rely on instinct or on learned habits. Something happens, our brain defaults to previous patterns, and we act based on past behavior. Or we experience a flood of emotion (i.e., a flood of chemicals flowing from our neurons) and we act in response.
What you hear in your brain from that endless self-talk telling you why you're doing what you're doing? That's just the language center in the left side of your brain lending a voice to describe what you're feeling and what you're doing about it. But the fact is, that language center (most likely Broca's area, just above your left ear, FYI) is playing catch-up: you're in the act long before you describe to yourself what you're doing. Hence the reason we often reply "I don't know!" when someone asks us why the hell we did what we just did in a heated moment of panic. We haven't had time to tell ourselves why we did it.
So you know what this means to me? I don't know what actions could legitimately be called "original." We think we're doing things for our own original reasons. But you know what? It's not original We're reacting. We're responding. We're acting out of habit, just the way we did it last time. Maybe we'll try something a little different this time, hoping for a better outcome. But is that an original idea? Did we come up with that ourselves, or did we borrow it from something we read about, heard from a friend, or saw in a movie?
We are big, organic robots, and yet the best computers still can't perfectly replicate our actions. Perhaps it's because they act from rules of logic instead of rules of learned habit.
Okay, my essay is over. So what's the goddamned hare-brain idea?
Figure out how to act not from habit or emotion, but from that deep, untapped well of insight in my brain.
Steps
1) Understand better my reasons for doing things. Identify cues, responses, and rewards.
2) Figure out where to substitute better responses.
3) Meditate, and therefore learn to separate myself from the responsive mind (the mind that only reacts to impulses, emotions, and cures).
3) Act with original, untarnished intention.
Enthusiam: On-going. I devour any book, magazine article, or news report on brain science.
Practicality: Depends on the consistency of practice.
Difficulty: When is self-discovery ever as simple as it sounds?
One note: the image of the brain pasted above is from the newest, most advanced and detailed high-definition 3-D imaging of the human brain ever created. In case you think I'm exaggerating, consider this: for most of human history, the way we have viewed the brain was either with a corpse (with no brain activity to observe) or through images of the living brain that showed clusters of activity. PET scans, MRIs, fMRIs - all of these shows bright lights where clusters of activity in the brain respond to things like questions asked of the subjects or images viewed by the subjects, or actions made by the subject. (Fun fact: we've learned about the brain on sex by putting people in MRI machines and having them masturbate).
But you know what each bright light on one of those brain images represents?
Millions of neurons firing at that moment. Neurons fire for very specific reasons: one fires when it recognizes a line you see at 90 degrees, another fires when it recognizes a line at 95 degrees, and so on. One fires when you see the color red, another fires when you see a different shade of red, and so on. Add that up, and you can imagine how many neurons are involved in looking at just a red square. Multiply that by millions more, and you can see why scientists estimate the number of neurons in the brain to be in the 100's of billions. And all we can do right now is
make a
rough estimate as to what parts of the brain respond when you ask someone a question, or show them a picture, or have them perform an action.
So my point is that we are finally getting to the point of narrowing our views of the brain down to extremely tiny proportions. That high-def 3-D scanner can view brain structures as small as 20 microns, which is 50 times smaller than than images from the best MRI scanners. Fuckin' amazing, no?
http://news.discovery.com/tech/biotechnology/brain-ultra-high-res-3d-130620.htm
Not that I think it's a scam. They do pay out the prizes, as far as I know. These fledgling literary journals or magazines need the cash flow - not lot of people paying for thick books of short stories, poems, and essays these days. While there are more websites presenting magazines and journals in a more well-designed manner, like Issuu.com (looking through Writer's Market's list of publications, there's a lot of publications out there who haven't even updated their websites since the 1990's), but it's not certain that the Internet won't eventually destroy literary journals willing to pay writers for their work. The only ones that really provide exposure are the university-subsidized ones put out by the Creative Writing Department staff and students.
