“Don’t Jinx It,” my last column before my usual August break, dealt with superstitious behaviour. (For a real analysis of superstitious behaviour, check out Joe Rochford’s blog). It is the second time I addressed the issue in Métro. The first time was in the pre-blog era when I published Knock on Wood which appears below after Don’t Jinx It. (La version Française se trouve à la fin).

I don’t have much more to add to what I have already written (a testament either to the quality of what I have previously written or to the lack of room in my brain for any creative or interesting new idea). So, rather than repeat myself, I’ll just copy the two relevant columns. Enjoy.

Don’t jinx it!

(Source: La crainte du mauvais sort. Journal Métro, July 27, 2010)

I was talking about buying a second hand car with a friend the other day when she said, “I want to say something but I won’t. I don’t want to jinx things.” With a little coaxing I managed to pry it out of her. It turns out that she has had no trouble at all with her car and she wanted to recommend the same model to me. She was afraid that as soon as she mentioned how reliable her car has been to date she would start experiencing problems.

She is certainly not alone. It is a common fear. Many people get an anxious feeling in the pits of their stomachs whenever they tell others how happy they are and how well things are going. It is as if a little voice in their heads says, “Oh yeah! Just you wait and see, Mister.” This usually prompts them to knock on wood.

The fear of the jinx is a reflection of the natural survival instinct in humans. Bad things can and do happen. Having a sense of control over them helps us manage the anxiety created by this reality, even if the control is purely wishful thinking. In our efforts to avoid harm, our emotions can often tell us to do some pretty crazy things like touch wood or avoid saying certain words.

This is where the more developed rational parts of our brains can help.

Where’s the connection?

For a statement such as “I haven’t had any problems with my car to date,” to actually create problems implies that there is some sort of connection between the statement and the car’s mechanical reliability – that some higher power, for example, hears the statement and screws up the car on purpose. I don’t know about your beliefs but I would sincerely doubt that any being with that kind of power would concern him or herself with the transmission or brakes of this woman’s little Mazda.

Our rational brains know there is no connection between our superstitious statements or gestures and the actual outcome of events. Those who listen to their reason will learn to accept their fates. Those who listen to their emotions will try many things to avoid theirs, but in the end, fate will always prevail. And I haven’t jinxed anything by saying that.

Here is the older column:

Knock on wood (March 6, 2007)

My elderly parents are still alive and my kids are all healthy, knock on wood.

Have you ever wondered why we knock on wood or engage in other superstitious behaviours? Why, for example, some hockey players decide not to change their socks after a win? Or why at some point their loved ones might secretly pray for a loss, and cross their fingers while doing so?

Many things in life are unpleasant or even horrible to imagine. When we think of them it is natural to want to control destiny and do everything in our power to avoid those outcomes. But most misfortunes are unforeseeable and can happen at any moment. Accepting this fact is not something human beings do easily. Instead, we look to do something that can give us a sense of control such as knocking on wood, rubbing a rabbit’s foot, or praying to a piece of raisin bread that bears a striking resemblance to the Virgin Mary.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we had that kind of control over our destinies? Of course it would, but wanting something to be true does not make it so. These behaviours have no real impact on our lives and do not ensure safety. However, given the fact that horrible events do not happen to us every day, they will almost always appear to have worked. We can easily knock on wood hundreds of times without anything bad happening the next day. This spurious connection tells the emotional part of our brain that knocking on wood is a good thing. Even though the rational part of our brain knows that it makes no sense, this constant repetition continually strengthens the emotional connection.

Although superstitious behaviours are for the most part harmless, they illustrate well the frequent battle between reason and emotion. Human beings need both to survive. Emotion protects us from more immediate dangers such as an oncoming bus, while reason protects us from longer-term harm. It is what makes us try to eat properly or to exercise more. In this battle, sometimes our emotions win out and we do irrational things. Let’s just hope we don’t let these odd behaviours overly control our lives, knock on wood.

Voici la version Française de la chronique de 2007:

Toucher du bois

Mes vieux parents sont toujours en vie et mes enfants sont tous en bonne santé… je touche du bois!

Vous êtes-vous déjà demandé pourquoi nous touchons du bois ou adoptons d’autres comportements superstitieux? Pourquoi, par exemple, certains joueurs de hockey décident-ils de ne pas changer de bas après une victoire? Ou pourquoi, certains de leurs proches, à un certain point, vont secrètement prier pour une défaite tout en se croisant les doigts?

Plusieurs événements de la vie sont désagréables, voire horribles à imaginer. Lorsque nous pensons à ceux-ci, il est parfaitement normal que nous souhaitions contrôler notre destinée et faire tout ce que nous pouvons pour éviter qu’ils ne surviennent. Cependant, la plupart des malchances sont imprévisibles et peuvent se produire à tout moment. Les êtres humains ont du mal à accepter ce fait. Nous avons plutôt tendance à rechercher quelque chose qui nous procure un sentiment de contrôle, qu’il s’agisse de toucher du bois, de caresser une patte de lapin ou d’adresser nos prières à une tranche de pain aux raisins qui ressemble étrangement à la Vierge Marie.

Ne serait-il pas agréable d’exercer un tel type de contrôle sur notre destinée? Bien sûr! Mais le fait de souhaiter que quelque chose se produise ne veut pas forcément dire que cet événement va se réaliser. Nos comportements superstitieux n’ont aucune incidence réelle sur nos vies et n’assurent pas notre sécurité. Cependant, puisque nous ne sommes pas tous les jours victimes d’événements horribles, nos superstitions sembleront pratiquement toujours avoir eu l’effet escompté. Nous pouvons ainsi facilement toucher du bois des centaines de fois sans que rien de désagréable ne survienne le lendemain. Ce lien fallacieux transmet, à la partie émotionnelle de notre cerveau, le message que le fait de toucher du bois porte fruit. Même si la partie rationnelle de notre cerveau sait pertinemment que cela n’a aucun sens, cette répétition constante contribue à renforcer continuellement le lien émotionnel.

Bien que les comportements superstitieux soient, pour la plupart, sans danger, ils illustrent bien les fréquents conflits entre la raison et les émotions. Pour survivre, les êtres humains ont besoin autant de la raison que des émotions. Les émotions nous protègent de dangers plus immédiats, comme d’un autobus qui se dirige vers nous lorsque nous traversons la rue, tandis que la raison nous protège de dangers à plus long terme. C’est elle, qui nous incite à mieux nous alimenter ou à faire plus d’exercice. Nos émotions sortent parfois gagnantes de ce conflit et nous posons alors des gestes irrationnels. Espérons tout simplement que nous ne laisserons pas ces comportements étranges occuper trop de place dans nos vies…touchons du bois!

“I’m like a fish out of water / a cat in a tree /I got a big chain around my neck / and I’m broken down like a train wreck / well it’s over, I know it but I can’t let go.”
- Lucinda Williams from the song “Can’t Let Go”

When you’re thinkin’ of things that you might have said…let it go / When you’re dreamin’ of your lips on the back of her neck…let it go / Should’a done…that’s the devil’s game, just ask anyone that’s been driven insane / Should’a done, could’a done…give it up and let it go.
- Tom Russell from the song “Let it Go”

Sounds like Lucinda could use some advice from Tom. Let it go. It’s the kind of thing we hear from the thousands of friends and experts ready to advise us when something gnaws at us. But how exactly are we supposed to do so? And is it even possible?

Life may be difficult at times but that doesn’t mean it is complicated. Sometimes our options are quite simple; we fix what we can and we accept what we can’t. It is in the application of these options that things can get quite complicated. Most of the time, we address problems. It is the way our world is structured. We see a doctor when it hurts, we look for work when we need money, we offer to help a grieving relative when someone dies – it is natural to try to fix situations we don’t like.

Of course when this option is closed, there isn’t much left to do except “get used to it,” or “let it go,” or “accept it.”

Yeah! Nice advice…but also advice that can make us want to poke the eyeballs out of the person giving it.

Perhaps I’m being a bit harsh here but “let it go” is one of those pithy recommendations that are easy to make to others but nearly impossible to apply to ourselves. In my July 13th column for Métro, I briefly discuss the subject.

When people face a problem, they go into action mode. They think of solutions and take appropriate action – or at least what they feel is appropriate action. The problem with this natural approach is that it doesn’t distinguish between things that can be changed and things that can’t. When we do face such a situation – in my column I use the examples of chronic illness, death, and failed relationships – the act of searching for solutions becomes obsessive rumniation. Obsessing or ruminating over things that have no solution is an endless exercise. (An obsessive person who fears his hands are contaminated can wash his hands until he feels they are clean, but a person obsessing over the possibility of an illness or other potentially negative events, will never have the satisfaction equivalent to clean hands. This person’s doubts will never be eliminated.)

I think the main problem with ruminations is that they are active attempts at finding solutions. Although it can seem completely automatic (i.e., beyond our control) there is actually quite a bit of voluntariness to ruminations. If we hope to find a solution, or at least some form of reassurance, we embark on a cognitive search for it. If we know there is no answer, we are less likely to obsess endlessly. As I mention below, the key to controlling ruminations lies in changing our expectations. To let it go, we must first recognize there is no solution (this is the easy part) and then (and here is the tough part) we must resist our tendency (or the temptation) to search for one. It is this futile search that compounds our pain and frustration and does nothing but make us feel worse.

You will notice that this advice will not fix things. It will only keep things from getting worse. As unsatisfying as this solution is, it is far superior to the alternative – endless rumination.

By the way, the history of humans is full of horrible events of both natural (disease, earthquakes, floods, etc) and man-made origins (war, terrorism, etc). In the face of such events it is not difficult to understand why many cultures developed a number of acceptance-based solutions. These include stoicism, yoga, Tai Chi, and many forms of meditation, to name a few.

These principles are now influencing practices in clinical psychology. When we deal with chronic conditions such as pain disorders or recurrent depression, for example, acceptance-based approaches such as mindfulness (where you focus on your breathing while turning away from all distracting thoughts) are becoming popular.

We must still focus on fixing or changing what we can. It is always the best solution whenever possible. However, it is also important to understand that when this option is closed, it is time to consider the alternative. Let it go.

How to “Let it go”

(Source: Comment lâcher prise. Journal Métro, July 13, 2010)

It is one of those pieces of advice we hear all the time from both professionals and friends alike – Let it go. We are sometimes plagued by frustrations that eat us up inside. Of course if we can resolve them, all is well. But what happens when we can’t fix what’s wrong. When problems have no solutions the only option left is to accept them and learn to live with them. In short, let it go.

As obvious as this piece of advice is, how on earth are we supposed to let it go when the “it” is important to us? It is one of those pithy aphorisms you might hear on a talk show or read on a bumper sticker. It’s like telling someone, “Just be happy.” Well, thank you very much, Mr. Genius, now my problems are over!

A natural tendency

The natural thing to do when faced with a problem is to try to solve it. This natural tendency works well when there is a solution to be found. When there isn’t, this tendency leads to nothing but endless ruminations and ends up torturing us.

This is why we suffer so much when we must face our impotence in situations we cannot change. This happens when we are confronted by things such as the death of a loved one, or the fact that a person no longer loves us, or by a chronic illness, or many other nonreversible realities. 

Fighting a natural tendency

Letting go is not a miracle solution. It will not make us feel good. What it will do, however, is prevent us from feeling worse. This is because the search for a resolution to a situation that cannot be changed will keep hurting us. Our impotence hurts again and again with each failed attempt.

The key to letting things go involves changing our expectations of what can be achieved. “Letting go” really refers to letting go of our attempts to change the unchangeable. It means to simply let bad feelings run their natural course. Like waves, they will sweep over us and then dissipate. All we can do is let them pass and then continue focusing on what we are doing at the moment. We only add to our suffering when we search for solutions that do not exist. Sometimes the best solution is an imperfect one – just let it go.

The reason for this is the human stress response. Stress is the body’s way of responding to and protecting itself from a threat. When I know what’s out there – a bear, a raging river, a pit of snakes – I can protect myself from the danger. When the danger isn’t known, I have no idea what I need to do. My stress response goes into hyper-alert mode as a means of protection. This is why the unknown is so stressful. (It is also why people have such a hard time with change.)

An interesting thing about stress and anxiety is how most of us deal far better in a real crisis than we would have thought.

I once had a client with a fairly serious case of Crone’s disease. As bad as it was, it barely registered on his radar. As a hypochondriac, he was far more worried about an infinite number of other possible conditions he could have – many of which were less serious than his Crone’s.

Such is the nature of imagination. It is pretty fertile.

Here is my column from last week. It explores some of these issues.

Cancer or fear of cancer

(Source: Le cancer ou la peur du cancer? Journal Métro, June 29, 2010)

Would you rather have cancer or a fear of cancer?

Whenever I speak to an audience about anxiety, I always ask the above question. Given the choice, the vast majority of them respond they would rather have the fear of cancer than the actual disease. From the outside it’s a no-brainer. We can easily see that one of the options is a deadly disease while the other is “just a fear.”

This is when I ask the follow-up question. What if the fear made you believe you really had cancer, would you feel better or worse than the person with the actual disease? This is why there is always a small minority of audience members – those with a history of debilitating anxiety – who indicate they would rather have the cancer.

Reality versus imagination

Anxiety is a mechanism that works well to protect us from real or potential dangers. Our imaginations help us prepare for as many of them as possible. Unfortunately there are few greater dangers than the ones conjured up by the limitless imagination of the fertile human brain. This is, by the way, the reason movies are rarely as captivating as the books on which they are based. An alien creature in your mind is always scarier than an actor in an alien suit on screen.

When imagination – and the anxiety it produces – is taken out of the equation, we can be more rational about our situations. It is for this reason that unknown threats are usually more difficult to deal with than known ones. In the cancer example, a person with the disease may have a treatable case. Even when it isn’t, the patient often can accept the inevitable and adopt a “one-day-at-a-time” attitude.

People who are afraid they have cancer, on the other hand, never imagine that it is treatable. They always imagine drawn-out, agonizing, and certain deaths. There is no opportunity for optimism or a positive outlook in the mind of an anxious individual.

Anxiety is a motor that drives us to protect ourselves from dangers. Unfortunately, without the ability to separate reality from imagination, our anxiety mechanism can go from protecting us to torturing us.

Anxiety is a film that can paint some scary pictures. This is why we must be able to step back from our emotions and recognize that fear is ultimately in our minds. After all, a scary movie is still only a movie.

While the following column is very basic, it does have implications for the way we interpret more important issues. The desire to know and to understand is what drives our society to discover and to make advances. Unfortunately it also opens the door to things like wishful thinking, or the creation of public myths, or the occasional hysteria over the latest “chemical,” to name a few. This also makes us vulnerable to charlatans and pseudo-experts. (Real experts, by the way, have very few answers and use phrases like, “It depends” and “Well, this may be a contributing factor.” These are not the kind of answers that generate a whole lot of headlines.)

If a man has 5% of the answers and an expert has 10% of them, the man will obviously be impressed by the expert. Whenever the man seeks answers he will go ask the expert. The problem is that, just because the expert knows more than the man, it doesn’t mean that he has any more of the missing 90% of the answers. This opens the door to the expert being given too much credit. If the expert is dishonest, or stands to make a lot of money, or is self-deluded into believing he really does know everything, then the man can be easily misled or manipulated.

(see also: Knowing the Limits of Knowledge)

Here is my Métro column from last week:

What does it mean when you like red?

(Source: Pourquoi aime-t-on la couleur rouge? Journal Métro, June 15, 2010)

When I was still at school my neighbour would regularly ask me questions like, “What does it mean when someone likes red?”

My smart-alecky answer was usually something like, “It means you like red.”

One of the irritating things about being a psychologist is that people assume there is some hidden meaning in everything humans do and that we, the so-called experts, have in our possession the secret code that explains all behaviour and thought. They believe that not only do we know why people do things but also how to change them in significant ways.

There is no doubt that there are reasons why people act the way they do. Unfortunately there are so many factors influencing us that rarely is there any great significance to a single act. The range of factors that influence our behaviours can include instinctive drives, the development of habits over time, the influence of cultural beliefs, our inborn temperaments, and the uniqueness of our personal experiences. Complex interactions do not make for simple answers.

This brings me back to the question about liking red. The sarcastic answer I gave is also an accurate one. Sometimes the only significance is the obvious one. If you like red, it simply means that you like red. Trying to go beyond that is likely to point you in all kinds of crazy directions that lead nowhere.

What about a man who likes to walk down the street wearing a panama hat with a large feather sticking out of it? Can we say something about him? Well, if he lived in a society where it was the norm to do so, all it would signify is that he enjoys that look and is happy to conform. If, on the other hand, no one wore such hats it would suggest he had unusual tastes and did not mind sticking out in a crowd. Beyond that, there isn’t much else we can conclude.

Why is this issue so important? Because life is so complex that we are constantly searching for answers. This opens the door to a wide range of quacks ready to take advantage of our desire to know and to tell us how significant all our behaviours are.

Beware of such quacks. They may not always be dressed in red.

My June 1st column was called Toilet Paper Wars, a fictional tale that explores the tendency to want things done a certain way. Hobbies and indulgences such as wine or bikes won’t cause problems if they can be afforded and if they do not interfere in other people’s lives. But our obsessive tendencies almost always have a way of affecting others. In the column, I take some minor examples and show how they can grate on the nerves when we keep insisting on them. Living with other adults almost invariably will result in clashes when it comes to questions of how things ought to be done. Some of us are better at letting these things go than others. When two people both rigidly hang on to their views, or when one just doesn’t care enough to pay attention, all hell breaks loose! No matter how small a problem is, without the ability to let go or compromise, it will soon become a big problem.

I think one of the problems is that we get caught up in our standards. When we are in a mindset of having a specific goal in our heads (“The toilet paper roll is better when placed this way in the dispenser”, or “This bike is quicker when accelerating up a hill”), anything short of that goal is upsetting. On the other hand, if we make a minor change to our mindsets (“I suppose the toilet paper still w***s well even though it came off the dispenser from the bottom” or “This bike is still really, really good, I only lost .00002 milliseconds going up that hill!), we may find it easier to let go. It’s kind of like getting a minor slap on the back of the head as a wake up call…kind of like my Italian mother used to do to me when she would say, “Stop being an idiot!”

Toilet paper wars

(Source: Les guerres de papier de toilette. Journal Métro, June 1, 2010)

Joe has one of those crazy obsessions. His toilet paper rolls must have the first sheet coming over the top rather than from underneath. That’s just the way it has to be! His roommate, Bob, likes to mess with Joe’s mind and flips the toilet paper roll over each time he uses the bathroom. One day you may read about Joe and Bob in the newspaper. The story will undoubtedly involve a dead body found in a pool of blood. At the scene of the crime, Joe will be taken away in handcuffs mumbling something about Bob having had it coming.

Our little obsessions

This little fictional story, perhaps without the tragic end, is lived in almost all of our homes. When two people live together, they will inevitably run into each other’s little obsessions; Should the ketchup bottle be kept upside down in the fridge? Should the car be backed into the driveway or go in straight? Should the TV channel get changed at the first hint of a commercial? And what about leaving the lights on…or the lid up…or hair in the sink…or smothering every damned meal in hot sauce before you even taste it?!!!

Dealing with our obsessions

I too am irked when the toilet paper comes out from underneath. But while I don’t know what on earth would possess someone to put it in that way, I won’t insist on it – not usually anyways.

The problem with obsessions is not with their existence, but with our insistence on them.There is nothing wrong with standards, but in the extreme application of such standards things can get pretty ugly.

The issue is one of mindset. When we think there is a problem, we naturally want to fix it. When the solution appears simple and obvious, at least to us, it should be easy to implement. This leads to a greater expectation that the right thing will be done, which of course leads to greater frustration when it isn’t.

Change your mindset or change your roommate

If we have a mindset of insisting on things being done the “correct” way, something will have to give. Other people will either have to do things our way or we will have to give up on some of our crazy obsessions. Taking a step back from our automatic assumptions will go a long way in changing that mindset. No one, when being rational, will think that toilet paper configuration is a big deal.

Unfortunately, some people would rather change their roommates than their mindsets. Just ask Joe.

This little anecdote illustrates a simple psychological reality called classical conditioning. Any stimulus – a sight, a smell, a sound – can get attached to a memory and trigger an emotional response. These memories can be positive and fun while they last – like a song from our childhood triggering a wave of nostalgia – or simply odd and curious – such as the school bell. But they can also bring back painful memories that remind us of horrible events. Most of us remember what we were doing on the morning of September 11, 2001. It would not be surprising if one day an image, or a place, or a sound, triggered a specific memory in us from that fateful day.

These associations are like the ones that triggered salivation in Pavlov’s dogs. In his classic observation, the bell over the laboratory triggered a digestive response in his dogs even when they were not being fed. They learned to associate the sound of the bell with the meat they were served at mealtime from a tray brought in through the same door. The important thing here is that a REAL PHYSICAL RESPONSE was triggered in the body from something that was COMPLETELY NEUTRAL. No bell would ever cause a dog to salivate.

How is this relevant to everyday life? Well, just imagine any strong emotional event such as a car accident, an assault or even a panic attack. If a person panics in a restaurant, they experience this strong physiological response in the presence of specific smells from the kitchen, the clinking of glasses, the din of countless conversations, the candles and dim lighting, and many other specific stimuli. What happens is that these stimuli can then later trigger emotional memories of the panic. It becomes somewhat of a vicious circle where one panic gets associated with stimuli that trigger the next panic and so on.

This is not the only thing that affects panic and anxiety but it is an important factor to consider. Unless we learn to deal with these unexpected triggers, we will be paralyzed by fear for a long time.

Anxiety gets better if we simply face it without trying to over-control it. If we avoid it, we tend to confirm to our brains that there was some sort of danger to be avoided in the first place. We will never achieve the ultimate goal of anxiety management, which is to learn that we have nothing to be afraid of.

One of the challenges is to confront these emotional triggers without making them worse. To do so, I talk to clients about the positive ones they experience; ones such as smells that trigger memories of Grandma’s cooking, or songs that remind them of a great time of their lives. I then ask them what they do about them. Most say, “Nothing.” They simply experience them and enjoy them while they last. These flashes don’t last very long. They simply run their courses.

I use this to illustrate the process. Painful memories act the same way. They come in unexpectedly but they also run their course. They do not normally last very long – or at least they shouldn’t. The difference between positive memories and negative ones is not in the nature of the memory process. The difference is in how we handle them. The reason negative memories last long and even get worse over time is because we often fight them or try to avoid them. If we avoid memories, they will still tend to pop up at unexpected times. This contributes to anger and frustration and triggers a series of questions and analyses that prolong the memory.

The best strategy is to treat negative emotional memories in the same way we treat the positive ones. That is, let them be. I like to think of them as a wave or a passing storm. We must let them pass naturally. They may not be pleasant but they won’t last long. More importantly, if we do not strengthen them by our efforts to fight them, they will weaken over time. If Pavlov’s dogs stopped being fed through the door with the bell over it, eventually the bell would be, well, just a bell, and longer trigger the salivation.

As a human, of course, I am far too rational to allow bells to affect my body as much as Pavlov’s dogs. Bells, while they might make me feel like I’m late for class, will simply never make me salivate.

Oops, gotta go. My microwave just beeped. Mmm, lunch!. I’m already drooling!

Psychological Ouches!

(Source: Gérer ses douleurs psychologiques. Journal Métro, May 18, 2010)

What do you do when you stub your toe or bump your head? While these things can sting quite a bit there really isn’t much we can do except wait for the pain to subside and then continue going about our days. Although most of us would prefer not to experience such pain, we aren’t given much choice. It is a reality of life.

This simple reality applies to psychological pain as well.

Trauma, loss and Pavlov’s dog

Sometimes life hits us with a serious blow – car accident, rape, sudden death of a loved one. One of the toughest things for people to deal with following such traumatic events are the painful memories that keep coming at them like a locomotive. Memories and flashbacks are lingering psychological effects that continue to exact a price from the victims. Just like Pavlov’s salivating dogs, the body reacts to any reminder of important events.

These reminders are felt at an emotional level. Normally, an emotional response serves to protect us. It is like a voice in our heads that screams, “Do something!” Unfortunately, when it comes to grief and trauma there is often nothing to actually do. Our emotions push us but there is no place to go.

Pavlov’s pleasant flashes

When we walk down the street we sometimes smell something, or hear something that transports us back in time. When these memory flashes remind us of pleasant events such as grandma’s cooking or the music of our youth, they temporarily make us feel good. We simply experience them until they pass.

Pavlov’s unpleasant flashes

The same applies when these flashes are painful. They are emotional memories of past trauma that cannot be erased. We have no choice but to learn to live with them and the best way to do so is to treat them the same way as the pleasant flashes, that is, let them be and accept them as normal. They will soon dissipate. Just like stubbing a toe, there really isn’t much to do except wait for the bad feeling to pass and then move on. If we try to avoid unpleasant memories they will intrude at unwanted times and in surprising ways, eventually controlling our lives. If instead we accept them, they will weaken over time and lose their emotional punch. This is the only was to get our lives back.

“What the hell happened there?” is a question I often find myself asking when the golf ball I just hit goes sailing off into the forest. More often than not I just scratch my head and really have no idea. On the other hand I have noticed that when my drives fly down the middle of the fairways I am usually standing in a balanced position on my follow through. Hmm, I wonder if that means anything?

The reason I bring this up is because there is a trend in clinical psychology championed by Martin Seligman called Positive Psychology. Now let’s get one thing straight. There are far too many of the “touchy-feely” types in clinical psychology. It is already a profession susceptible to fuzzy thinking and quackery that the last thing we need is another positive thinking guru (see also The Power of Positive Thinking?). Nevertheless, positive psychology merits attention and has the potential to influence research and practice in important ways.

The concept is not all that revolutionary but it is a question of the mindset we have when treating people. Whether it concerns psychological well-being or physical health, clinicians are trained to address problems. When you go to your emergency room you are asked where it hurts. If you’re limping, no one will ask you how your hearing is. The same is true in clinical psychology. The first item in all files is “Presenting Problem.” There is a cursory review of other areas, and these sometimes reveal which of them are functioning well, but this is only to ensure that other problems are not missed.

Let’s take an example of physical health. Doctors in a given geographic area can determine the rate of a given disease, such as diabetes, in the population and plan for adequate medical resources. Sometimes hospitals and governments are lucky enough to be able to respond to the demand but more often than not, they are stuck managing crisis situations. On the other hand, there is merit in determining which factors contribute to healthy living and putting resources into promoting them. Prevention is a no-brainer – and a lot cheaper.

The same applies to mental health. Although we cannot always prevent problems and we must address them when they do arise, we mustn’t ignore the lessons of our successes. Yes, if we are depressed, we need to question our circumstances, or our beliefs, or behaviours, or biochemistry, or whatever may be going wrong. But there is one thing for certain. If we remember a time when we were really happy and trace it back to the factors that led us there, we can sometimes surprise ourselves. Successful times can have resulted from specific circumstances or behaviours, or from a different mind set, or from altered expectations, etc. In the process, we may find a way out of depression faster than if we focus solely on fixing problems.

Adding a positive focus when we analyze ourselves and others can unlock many secrets and act to prevent problems before they begin. Of this I am posi……certain!

Learning from your successes

(Source: Apprendre de nos réussites. Journal Métro; May 4, 2010)

We spend a great deal of time trying to figure out what goes wrong in our lives and how to fix it, don’t we? Rarely do we wonder what went right and try to learn from our successes.

What did I do wrong?

The natural thing to do when we are unhappy or when problems arise is to examine the situation and try to learn from our mistakes. This applies to many areas of life. When there are traffic tie-ups we try to identify bottlenecks. When countries go to war we look for the causes. When we are depressed or sick, we struggle to understand why and what we must do about it.

These are important things to do but they can only teach us so much. We may not always find the answers to all of our questions. More importantly, not all problems can be fixed once they occur.

What did I do right?

How often have you felt better after asking yourself the question, “What’s the matter with me?” Perhaps a better question should be, “Why did I feel so good that other time?”

I once worked with a couple that was constantly fighting. After many frustrating attempts at improving communication by trying to examine conflicts, I decided to ask them to try to remember the last time they had a great time together. They both picked the same evening.

In examining a time when they were happy together, we were able to identify the factors that led to that feeling. It turns out that they had a mindset where they expected less of each other and were better able to appreciate the qualities in the other person that made them fall in love in the first place.

Trying to change expectations and behaviours from the perspective of conflict or failure often gets us nowhere. We get defensive and closed-minded. When upset, emotions like anger or depression obscure our ability to see clearly.

Learning from success

While we can learn a lot by examining our failures we mustn’t miss out on the opportunity to learn from our successes as well. When we get along with others, when we are content, when traffic is moving smoothly, when there is peace, or whatever the positive circumstances, let’s not forget to ask ourselves why.

Of course, trying to figure out whether experience feeds attitudes or attitudes feed experience may be a chicken and egg argument but prejudices certainly feed themselves once they take hold. They may start innocently enough, fed perhaps by someone else’s attitude or by a single observation, but once they get a hold of us, selective attention and self-confirming attributional biases keep them going strong for years.

While prejudicial attitudes have important implications for societies, very little attention is paid to how they affect our attitudes about ourselves. The same process that creates bias toward others can also create bias against the person making the judgment. My April 20 column for Métro revisits this principle (see also: self-confirming negative biases).

When working with people with low self-confidence, I like to use prejudice toward racial or ethnic groups as an illustration since most of us can see how unfair the process is. I then propose to use the same questions to examine the client’s attitude toward him or herself. The striking thing about people who lack self-confidence is how they tend to dismiss anything that seems to be a positive achievement – “It was easy. I was lucky. They complimented me to be nice. etc.” – while blaming themselves whenever there is a problem.

Changing an unfair attitude is tough enough but it starts with the recognition that a bias exists. If we think we are seeing the world accurately, we are unlikely to listen to anyone who disagrees with us -like my naive psychologist who is paid to be nice to me. If we can see that we are biased, on the other hand, then we can step back and try to look at the facts from a more objective perspective.

In the column below, I use an analogy of a courtroom where the judge is biased and must step down from the case. It is a no-brainer. Unfortunately it is easier to conceptualize a solution than to put it in place. The process is actually a long one but once a client recognizes the bias, he or she can begin to question observations and develop a more scientific attitude over time.

Recuse yourself

(Source: Oubliez vos préjugés envers vous-mêmes. Journal Métro, April 20, 2010)

If you were a judge and found yourself assigned to a case where your best friend stands accused of a crime, would you not step down?

What if you were the alleged victim of the accused man? Would you not expect the judge to step down?

These are pretty simple questions with obvious answers but what would happen if you were the one accused of a crime and the judge was a friend of your accuser? Worse still, what if the judge was also paid to rule against you?

Of course, if you knew about the bribe and the personal connection, you certainly would demand that the judge step down, but what if you were unaware of the bias? In such a bizarre scenario you would be guilty every time, no matter what the facts were.

Our own biases

The situation I painted is pretty far-fetched but we actually live with similar ones all the time. Many people who lack confidence feel as if we they are losers or defective in some way. This translates into a belief system that acts like any other bias or prejudice.

Prejudice means to pre-decide. Those who feel they are defective have already ruled against themselves. The actual facts in question are irrelevant. All biases are self-confirming. If I think I am stupid and make an honest mistake, I will blame it on my stupidity. If I succeed, I will tend to say the task was easy or that I was lucky. This tendency will feed my lack of confidence.

Self-confirming biases work in reverse for people who think too much of themselves. If I think I am always right, I will always take credit for anything that goes well and find a way to blame other when they don’t. This tendency will feed my arrogance.

Let someone else decide

We all carry our baggage of biases. Some prejudices work against others while some work against our own selves. The first thing we need to do is become aware that they exist. Once we do so, we must recuse ourselves. Just like the judge who lacks impartiality, we must let someone else decide. Our own self-judgments are simply not going to be fair or accurate. Whether we think too little of ourselves – or too much – we have little choice but to rely on the judgments of others.

…and to trust those judgments.

There was a great editorial a while back in the Los Angeles Times written by Allen Frances MD. In his article, Dr. Frances bemoans the tendency to medicalize relatively normal tendencies. While some of these tendencies may cause problems for people, is it necessary to call them psychiatric illnesses?

The Montreal Gazette also ran an excellent series of articles on the issue written by Sharon Kirkey.

Disease classification serves three main purposes. First, it facilitates communication. If I were to tell you I had agoraphobia, for example, you would have a pretty good idea of how my life is affected. Second, it facilitates research. If we all agree on the definition of agoraphobia, we can conduct research into treatments that work for each category. Finally, if specific treatments exist for each specific illness, then diagnosis becomes an important consideration in treatment planning.

The problem with psychiatric diagnoses is that very few of them have any clear and reliably observable patterns – and almost none of them have measurable physical markers. The result is a classification system based largely on clinical judgments. Clinical judgment may sound nice but it is notoriously unreliable. The sad reality is that a typical psychiatric dossier has almost as many different diagnoses as doctors who saw the patient. You would never see this in any other medical specialty. Someone with diabetes will have diabetes no matter how many doctors he or she sees. In addition, there is so much overlap in psychiatric diagnoses that almost every patient has one, or even several, “co-morbid” conditions. Not only that, but most conditions respond to the same types of treatments.

The reason for this problem with the classification of mental conditions is that people’s lives and personalities do not fit neatly into categories. There are times when our personalities may cause us problems – or cause them for others – but does this oblige us to find a name for every problem condition?

I do think we should look for patterns in people’s lives and we should continue to conduct research into techniques that help individuals overcome some of the more maladaptive ones. However, I do not believe that most of these diagnoses are particularly relevant to day-to-day clinical practice.

The media are fascinated with classifications and statistics. We like to read quotes about how many of us suffer from a specific disorder and what type of treatment will be needed to overcome it. In reality, however, most diagnoses represent some sort of prototypic conditions – an artificially defined cluster of symptoms that are seen in certain individuals. They are not truly distinct conditions. I like to think of them as points in a cloud. If people were represented by a cloud of behavioural and experiential patterns, we could arbitrarily define some points in this cloud. The result would be that some of us may find ourselves close to a single point but most would be classified somewhere between two or more points.

Prototypes and averages are important to help us advance knowledge but not necessarily to categorize people. For example, if research showed that as family size increases, there is a concomitant increase in financial stressors, sibling rivalries, and conflicts, would it make any sense to use a cutoff and say that family sizes of 7 or more have particular psychological needs? Of course not. It would make far more sense simply to look at family size as a factor to consider? Larger families may have additional challenges facing them than small families. For some it may cause no distress, for others it may be a significant issue. The only thing to consider is one of how each family copes with this particular factor.

Similarly, psychological factors can lead to anxiety and unhappiness and may have to be dealt with. When a person is struggling with depressive feelings, I will do my best to help him or her. Does it really matter on which side of a subjective line clients find themselves on? I prefer to consider the person’s life as a whole and examine the factors that influence the upsetting feelings. Research into prototypes guides my treatment but I never really see any of these pure prototypes in my clinical practice.

Perhaps it may be time to leave diagnoses to researchers or to use them only when a clear biological disease exists (psychosis, bipolar disorder, autism, etc.). I think we are becoming a little too obsessed with the notion of categorizing the uncategorizable.

Here is My April 6th column:

My mother thinks I’m not normal

(Source: Ma mère pense que je ne suis pas normale. Journal Métro: April 6, 2010)

Am I normal? Well, according to my mother, my wife, my kids, and most of my friends, the answer would be, “Umm…No!”

Now that we’ve established that, does this mean I am mentally ill?

We often hear the statistic that 20 to 25 percent of us have or will have a mental illness at some point in our lives. How accurate is this number and how meaningful is it?

The problem with statistics regarding mental illnesses is that it makes about as much sense as asking how many of us will suffer from a physical illness at some point in our lives. If we were to include the common cold, 100% of us will suffer from a physical illness, plus of course the one that eventually kills us.

When do we decide that a psychological issue is actually a disease? If mental illnesses are to include broad definitions of what is and is not normal, we can all be classified at some point. How many of us have felt depressed enough to contemplate death at some point…or avoid airplanes or dentists…or have trouble focusing on our tasks…or have bad habits…or have trouble getting along with others? Depending on how far we are prepared to cast the net, the percentage of mentally ill people can be staggering.

A small percentage of mental illnesses are just like any other brain disease. These include schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and autism, and are likely due to some clear abnormality in the brain. It makes sense to classify these conditions as diseases.

For the rest of us, mental illness categories are extreme cases of everyday experiences. Where we draw the line is purely arbitrary. We need to classify mental illnesses in order to facilitate research and develop treatments, but very few of us fit neatly into these categories.

It makes far more sense to simply talk about how psychological issues affect our lives. When depressive feelings, fears and worries, or interpersonal conflicts cause us to suffer, or affect how we function, then we may choose to seek treatment. This should be the only determining factor rather than whether or not we meet any specific criteria.

As for what my mother thinks, I agree I am nowhere near normal but I do not believe I am mentally ill. My oddness is simply not extreme enough to affect my functioning or to cause me any suffering.

How I make others suffer is a whole other matter.