Here’s another story from my Just Because It’s In The Newspaper Doesn’t Mean You Should Believe It files.
The New York Times Magazine ran a piece last week about some new—though not exactly groundbreaking—social psychology research on willpower. Seems that people have more trouble making decisions and act more rashly when they’re tired or hungry. Any parent of a cranky toddler could tell you that. But, wait, there’s more.
This so-called decision fatigue, according to one economist who studied (I am not making this up) soap-buying decisions among poverty-stricken villagers in rural India, explains why the poor remain trapped by their financial circumstances. He believes diminished willpower causes crime, alcoholism, poor school performance, and other problems that maintain the cycle of poverty.
“Shopping can be especially tiring for the poor, who have to struggle continually with trade-offs.” That’s why, he says, the economically disadvantaged eat junk food at the mall; they can’t resist the allure of the food court because all the trade-offs deplete their willpower.
The author goes on to talk about the mitigating effect of sugary foods on “ego depletion” (the draining of mental energy used for self-control). And then he makes the following statement: “The ego-depletion effect was even demonstrated with dogs . . .After obeying sit and stay commands for 10 minutes, the dogs performed worse on self-control tests . . .But a dose of glucose restored their willpower.”
Whoa! There’s so much wrong here I hardly know where to begin.
Problem 1: How do you measure willpower?
In one experiment, self-control was measured by how long the subjects could hold their hands in ice water before giving into the urge to pull them out; in the Indian study, it was tested by seeing how long the subjects could squeeze a hand grip. What about individual differences in cold tolerance and grip strength? And couldn’t the poorer Indians have weakened more quickly because of malnutrition rather than lack of willpower?
Problem 2: Correlation does not equal causation.
Any Statistics 101 student knows this cardinal rule. Impulse-control problems may be more prevalent in poorer populations, but that doesn’t mean poverty causes weak willpower. Other factors could just as easily enter into the equation—fatigue resulting from having to perform a physically taxing job, say, or the draw of money-making criminal activities for a person desperate to find a way out of bleak circumstances. And, if the sheer volume of decisions depletes willpower, what about the CEO who constantly has to make decisions to run a company?
Problem 3: Generalizing about human cognition from animal studies is silly.
To say that dogs suffer from “ego” depletion after exercises in sustained self-control is just plain wrong. The concept of ego implies a capacity for self-awareness, which dogs lack. If they look in a mirror, they don’t recognize the image staring back at them as themselves. This has been tested in many different species by painting a dot on an animal’s forehead and presenting it with its reflection in a mirror. Elephants investigate the spot with their trunks; gorillas poke at it; and human children after the age of eighteen months or so notice it. But dogs don’t. They have no sense of self and, hence by definition, no ego.
In all fairness, I haven’t read the original studies, so I don’t know if these problems are in the research or in the way the reporter interpreted it. Still, the average newspaper reader wouldn’t go back to the original sources, either. Most of us take what we read or hear in the news at face value.
It’s easy to confuse fact with fiction if you don’t question the evidence.
https://www.complexbuilders.com You know the iconic sculpture, Rodin’s The Thinker? Man pondering, hunched over, chin resting on fist. Angst personified.
That’s what came to mind when I read about a new (but, really, old) type of therapy called philosophical counseling. Out-of-work philosophy PhDs who lack marketable skills are retooling themselves as therapists to help people cope with problems of living—garden variety crises like losing a job, getting divorced, or entering midlife. The idea is that these folks can benefit more from the wisdom of the ages than from working with a mental health professional. True for some, maybe, but still disturbing.
My hackles aren’t raised because I sense a threat to my turf. With only 300 certified philosophical counselors in the world, the field isn’t about to encroach on my profession. And don’t think I’m not open to alternative treatments. If it has a sound, research-tested track record, then I’m all for using any method that works. But this approach seems naïve at best; it could even cause significant harm if a practitioner– with only a three-day course required for certification—failed to recognize the signs of a more serious psychiatric problem.
Sure, we can all stand to heed the advice of the sages and put our modern-day worries into a broader perspective. But if you’re choosing a therapeutic approach, stick with a well-trained professional and evidence-based practice. That’s not philosophy, just good common sense.
Today something happened that I never thought I’d experience in Washington, DC: an earthquake. I was in my office with a patient when we heard a rumbling above us. Thunder? But then the room started to vibrate, lights flickered, and a large mirror crashed off the ledge. We hightailed it out of there down seven flights of stairs.
Never having lived on the West Coast, where, I’m told, an event of this magnitude (5.8 on the Richter Scale) barely gets noticed, I felt pretty shaky. I didn’t know what precautions to take. Was it safe to go back into the building? What about aftershocks? Nobody else on the street seemed to have a clue about what to do, either. Worse yet, there was no cell phone service, and no authorities to instruct us on proper earthquake protocol.
It turned out to be an interesting opportunity to observe how people put their personal spin on an ambiguous occurrence. I overheard several bystanders speculating that there had been a terrorist attack. Not an implausible explanation given that my office is only eight blocks from the White House, but not the first one to pop into my mind.
Twenty miles away in his home office, my husband saw the walls shake and jumped to his own conclusions. He immediately assumed that the incompetent contractors who had renovated our house were even worse than we’d thought, and our addition was collapsing. What a relief when he found out it was only an earthquake.