Feeling brow-beaten
Day after day,
I think it's over, but I just can't get away
You said, forget it,
Well, don't jump the gun,
You're laughing this time,
Next time, you might be the one
To tell...
The Story of the Blues!
First they take your pride,
Turn it all inside,
And then you realise you've got nothing left to lose
So you try to stop,
Try to get back up
And then you realise, you're telling
The Story of the Blues.
At a California university in the 1950s, a rather bizarre experiment took place.
A man is sitting in a chair with lots of electrical wires coming out of it. Some of these wires are taped to his arms, his legs and his face with electrodes. One by one, a group of student volunteers are led into an adjacent room where they can see the wired-up man through a window. A scientist in a white coat tells them that they are taking part in an experiment, that it’s quite safe, and that it’s for the good of humanity. All they have to do is follow instructions.
On the desk in front of them is a box with a big red button on. The scientist checks his watch, consults his clipboard, and then says, “Push the button.”
The student pushes the button.
The man in the next room suddenly begins to scream and convulse, his body twisting and writhing, his face stretched in agony. This goes on for a few seconds before it stops and the man slumps back into his chair.
“Did I…?” says the volunteer, looking concerned. “Was that because I…?”
“Press the button again,” says the scientist.
“Wait, no, did I…?”
“Press the button again.”
“I don’t want to hurt him. You said it was safe. I don’t think—”
“Press. The button. Again.”
The student pushes the button again.
As recommended by Ben, I’ve started reading Dr. Faith G. Harper’s Unfuck Your Brain. At first, I found her tone a little uncomfortable for a science / self-help book, because she swears. A lot. Not just in the title of the book, but pretty much every other sentence. She also uses a lot of slang and hipster / yoof speak that seems out of place for a medical professional of her age (not that I know exactly how old she is, but she doesn’t look like a fresh-faced Millennial).
However, after a chapter or two, I found myself warming to her style, even appreciating it. She clearly knows her shit (to use her vernacular), and throws a lot of heavy brain-science at you, but does so in a way that’s very down to earth and actually quite endearing after a while. Your own mileage may vary, but I’m starting to learn that we can choose how we react to things, whether we like them or not. We don’t have to follow our initial instincts… which is a good thing, since my initial instinct appears to be hardwired to dislike most things automatically… and then just go along with that, without question. This may well have something to do with a concept Dr. Faith has just introduced me too: my storytelling brain…
It's not just English teachers, frustrated wannabe novelists and people who spend far too much time writing about obscure musical trivia on the internet who have storytelling brains… we all do. Here’s Paul J. Zak, director of the Centre for Neuroeconomics Studies at Claremont Graduate University in California.
…as social creatures who regularly affiliate with strangers, stories are an effective way to transmit important information and values from one individual or community to the next. Stories that are personal and emotionally compelling engage more of the brain, and thus are better remembered, than simply stating a set of facts.
Weirdly, this is something I’ve been teaching my students for a while now in my own clumsy way, without really understanding the science behind it. The writing question in GCSE English Language Paper 2 gives students an opinion such as “Homework is a waste of time” or “Prisons are too lenient” and then asks them to write an article, speech or letter in which they argue their opinion on this subject, for or against. I regularly advise students that the worst thing they can do is to start out by telling the reader their opinion and bombarding them with facts – much better to open with a story that illustrates their opinion in a persuasive manner.
We all love stories – and good stories make us care about characters and want to know what happens to them. Even unpleasant characters. Stories help us process our own experiences, emotions and relationships. Through stories we gain empathy which helps us connect and stay connected with other people (remember how the amygdala is interested in protecting our place in society as much as saving us from danger?). You meet your mate in the pub? What’s the first thing you say after the initial greetings and small talk are out of the way? “You’ll never guess what happened to me this week…”
Storytelling is also what our brains do when they’ve not got anything more important to deal with. That’s why our brains keep telling stories when we’re asleep – dreaming. That’s why our minds wander when we’re driving home and we start to construct stories about what we’ll have for tea, where we’re going this weekend, the conversation we might have with our significant other. We make plans, which are just stories, and try to head off conflict (which is an essential part of any story, but something we go out of our way to avoid in real life). And Dr. Zak even believes it’s why we slow down to look at car accidents – it’s not out of a ghoulish desire to see mangled bodies and twisted metal, it’s self-preservation. If we can construct a story about why it happened, we can then stop the same thing happening to ourselves. So don’t feel guilty the next time you drive by a multi-car pile-up: the scientists have given you a free pass to gawk.
Stories help us learn. This is something good teachers understand. Even barely average to occasionally piss poor teachers like myself pick it up eventually. Say I’ve got to explain the imperative voice to a class. I can give them the grammatical explanation like so…
“The imperative mood is a verb form used to make a demand, issue a warning, or give advice or instructions. The subject of sentences in the imperative mood is implied to be the second-person pronoun “you,” but the word usually isn't actually included (e.g., “close the door”).”
Or I can tell them the story at the top of this post, to illustrate the power of a command sentence that uses the imperative voice.
Is it a true story? Well, I’m sure I’ve read about similar experiments that were used to explain why so many Nazi soldiers followed the orders of the Third Reich in WWII… but whether it’s true or not really doesn’t matter. The fact is, that story is far more likely to help your brain remember the definition, purpose and power of the imperative voice than reading a dozen grammar textbooks back to back ever will.
Still with me? Sorry, this is a long one.
I've been through hell
On my way to hell
I only fought with myself
So I'd have a story to tell
Stories help us learn because they create recognisable patterns which relate to our own experiences. Or, to use science talk, they create and strengthen neural pathways. Here’s an explanation from The Great Minds Clinic…
A neural pathway is a series of connected neurons that send signals from one part of the brain to another.
We already have a series of neural pathways, and we are creating new ones all the time. An example of an early neural pathway is that if a baby smiles, he or she is rewarded by a smile in return and possibly a cuddle. The same baby may work out that if he or she touches something sharp, it may hurt. Both are valuable learning experiences.
Neural pathways tell our brain how to react to whatever is thrown at us on a daily basis. That includes things we’ve dealt with before and things we’ve only ever seen or heard about second hand (which is why we’re so interested in car crashes). It’s like the basic programming language you might have learned in school, starting with IF…
IF b > 10 THEN GOTO 20.
Or, to put it into language Dr. Faith G. Harper would be more likely to approve of…
IF hungry sabretooth tiger approaching THEN getthefuckoutofDodge!
All very useful in terms of keeping us alive, which you’ll recall is our brain’s number one function.
Except…
Except sometimes we create neural pathways that are significantly less useful, using stories that reinforce negative or self-destructive responses and ultimately lead us into a world of pain and misery.
Which is where I’ll pick up next time.
(A reminder, if you're new here... I'm writing these posts for myself, to help me understand my own mental health and hopefully manage it a little better than I have been doing over the past few years. They may be of interest to you too, but I'm not preaching. Or, as Todd Snider puts it, "I did not do this to change your mind about anything, I did this to ease my own mind about everything".)
