Monthly Archives: March 2014

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

Bright copper kettles with warm woolen mittens

Brown paper packages tied up with strings

These are a few of my favorite things

Really? A drippy wet flower, a high maintenance cooking utensil and an anonymous package waiting to be swarmed by the airport bomb squad? These are someone’s favorite things?

They must be to someone, sometime. (And apparently to Rodgers and Hammerstein in 1959.) At least a few hundred million listeners over the last half century have found the list plausible, no matter how stupid I think it may be.

How a list of favorite things can be judged differently isn’t tough to understand. Finding middle ground on items of taste, style and personal grooming habits is possible. I hate dogs, you hate cats. No big deal, we’ll adopt a rat.

When differing opinions, however, involve the actions of one person that impact another, things get messy. Emotions erupt, entitlements are claimed, and suddenly my action seems overtly stupid to you, no matter how reasonable it seems to me.

How can perfectly reasonable people be such experts at doing perfectly unreasonable things? In other words, why do you think what I do is stupid? I believe assumed intent is the likely culprit. When we observe someone’s action, we assume their intent to be the same intent we would need to cause the same action. The same process is used when reverse engineering an app.

Reverse engineering an app re-creates the code (or script) responsible for the app’s action. It typically involves skill, guessing and luck. Reverse engineering the script of a predictable digital processor is tough, so assuming an accurate script of a human brain must be nearly impossible.

Nearly.

A good first step in reverse engineering an app is to identify and break down actions that repeat, then find the catalyst for the repetition. The result is a few lines of action code followed by a branch of logic.

Using this process on much of the repetitive human behavior I’ve observed, I come up with this generic, low-level script:

1. Get what I think I want.

2. Do I want what I’ve got?

3. if no then go back to step 1.

4. Enjoy life.

The logic of this script is prickly. If you don’t identify your wants until step #3, you’re liable to get stuck in an endless loop.

Now, may I introduce you to my friend John, the endless loop?

When John was a college senior, on the night of his 22nd birthday, he had way too much to drink and ended up having a hot time with a hot sophomore with a hot first name. He remembers his handsomeness and irresistibility rising exponentially with his increased blood alcohol level. He remembers how good it felt to be attractive. He remembers the pride he felt as he strutted from the bar with his bounty. That’s about all he remembers.

John is now a poorly preserved 59 year old workaholic who watches prime time TV at bars near college campuses. He thinks he wants to take home a hot sophomore, so he drinks. He imagines himself becoming more funny and handsome so he has another. He wants to be desired by the clutch of college age hotties across the bar so he has another.

John’s script has worked a few times since the first. Years ago it worked thanks to John’s collegiate youth. Now it occasionally works thanks to a stranger’s collegiate pity.

John thinks he wants to take home a sophomore. He lives the endless loop. If he would explore what he really wants, he would discover a desire to feel good and to be proud. But the further he teeters toward his sophomoric (literally and literarily) ambition, the further he gets from feeling good and being proud. Endless loop.

Socrates advised to “Know thyself.” That goes a long way to ending this loop. With it, the edited version of the low-level script becomes:

1. Find what you really want. “Know thyself.”

2. Don’t skip step #1. Struggle with it, if necessary.

3. Get what you want.

4. Enjoy life.

Am I a simpleton to think that finding contentment in life starts and ends with truly knowing what you want? Is every gulp of the alcoholic and every punch of the abuser and every curse of the offender and every [stupid act] of the [person who doesn’t know what they really want] just a wrong move at step one? An endless loop in the low-level script?

My best guess is yes.

I find myself increasingly surprised and annoyed by mostly sane people who won’t think for themselves. Do you really need a session with your ear-nose-throat specialist before you pick your nose? Is our hippocampus envy so severe that we can’t make basic decisions on our own?

It seems we’ve gone so soft in our decision-making capacity that we are unable to put one foot in front of the other without consulting an expert in walking. Of course you’ll need a follow up session to review the proud moment of motion.

There is no need to feel rushed since momentum in motion can lead to stumbling (and physics-defying feats of speed). And momentum in thought can lead to confusion (and life-changing flashes of brilliance).

I’m sure the decline of sober deciders didn’t happen overnight. Perhaps the increased accountability because of technology or the heightened fear of litigation has made everyone think twice before making a decision. Maybe thinking more than once is our downfall.

An interesting study on the timing of decision-making found the “outcome of a decision can be encoded in brain activity of prefrontal and parietal cortex up to 10 seconds before it enters awareness.” Is the ability to delay a decision long enough for a “second thought” short-circuiting our ability to make good decisions?

While the quickness of a decision may be part of the problem, I suspect another reason for our collective decision dulling is our habit of turning experts into celebrities. If I have to hear one more story about your world renowned, high priced, one step from God podiatrists, I may chop off your pinky toe so I can witness this divinity.

I was recently asked for advice on what to do about a sore calf muscle. My suggestion was to identify what recent activity had made it sore, and to consider refraining from that activity for a time. I thought it a cleverly cloaked punch line to the classic line, “Doctor, it hurts when I do this.”

Even as I was delivering the line, I realized it was not going to be taken seriously. Without quoting a bold study that sacrificed the dignity of several humans and the lives of many mice, my two cents was not even worth that.

My common sense answer didn’t stand a chance of credibility without warranting a new high powered drug, a reference to an immutable DNA marker and a Hail Mary to the slightest probability of endocrinological culpability.

“You worked out too hard yesterday. Take a day off” has been demoted to the ranks of, “Nurse, this is serious. I’ll need my bucket of leeches”.

Before I go on, I must disclose a prejudice. I come from a long line of solid thinking folk who consider, “He has book smarts” to be synonymous with, “He’s dumb as a box of rocks.” I was taught that learning school room lessons prepares you for a school room but learning life lessons prepares you for life.

I try to maintain a healthy balance of common sense and book smarts. I am not terrified by a subject expert with an education level beyond fifth grade, and conversely, I also believe my mom can grow better tomatoes than most with a PhD in horticulture. As old fashioned as it may seem, I think you still need to have a look at the nut before you can choose a wrench.

Is it too much to ask that people step up their game of effective decision-making? I know every decision can’t be made by your gut in under two seconds, but a whole lot of them can. I also know that some decisions need collegiate consideration and glacially paced research, but most don’t.

Sometimes it’s OK to take your time, phone a friend or hire an expert. But sometimes the only expert you need is the expert that had the answer 10 seconds before you were aware of the question. Your gut. Your instinct. Your inner expert.

The next time you’re on the fence about which expert to consult, think about the hourly rate of your inner expert. But don’t think about it too long!