Igniting your Natural Genius - Section 2: The Conditioning
by Prasad Kaipa and Steve Johnson
Section 1 | Section 2 | Section 3 | Section 4 | Section 5 | Section 6
This chapter forms the second section of a manuscript (work in progress)
titled Igniting Your Natural Genius. This manuscript elaborates the
learning framework developed the Mithya Institute.
You can see the model or read about it by selecting
Bicycle Built for Two or
Learning Coaching and Inspiration.
Table of Contents
This stage describes this invisible box in which each of us chooses to live.
During early childhood, we form our perceptions of the culture, values, beliefs
and assumptions of parents, relatives and society in general. We feel compelled
to blindly follow the conditions, to play-act a role, because it is almost
entirely outside of our conscious awareness. We play this part for evermore.
Unless, that is, we choose to understand it better, and do something about
it....
We Can Only See What We Have Already Seen, Unless We Learn
To See All Over Again
It is a fundamental ability of the brain to recognize patterns. A newborn
baby is confronted with what must be a dizzying array of shapes and sounds,
an overwhelming confusion. After a while, shapes which are repeated start
to become recognized, and then searched for, in an attempt to make sense
of the world.
Strange shapes, sounds and smells can be discomforting until we recognize
similarities with previous experiences. Our brains constantly look for these
similarities, and they give some satisfaction when we perceive them. Metaphors
are a higher order of pattern recognition, where we notice similarities between
things that are normally unconnected.
Swiss Psychologist Jean Piaget was a pioneer of the study of cognitive
development through childhood. His observations have helped us to understand
better how the mind develops. For example, he (later Jerome Bruner) noticed
that if lemonade is poured from a glass into a taller, thinner glass, a five
year old will be convinced that the taller measure equates to more lemonade.
A six year old often is less certain, but still comes to the same conclusion.
At seven, the child knows there is no difference.
This indicates that children begin as naive realists, totally trusting things
by their appearance. Piaget asserted that cognitive development is not a
process of merely adding skills continuously, or one of maturing through
growth. Instead, children develop through occasions of unsatisfactory interaction
with the environment (states of tenuous equilibrium). It is only through
these discrepancies with the physical environment that understanding, problem
solving and logical rules develop.
Of course, adults occasionally add new patterns and revise existing ones.
Elise Estrin, a renowned educator, reminds us that the constructionist approach
to knowledge suggests that we construct our `knowing' only partially based
on what we already know (or think we know). In a Piagetian sense, although
new ideas or concepts are assimilated into existing knowledge structures,
those existing structures are modifiable based on new experience and information
(which is called 'accommodation' by Piaget). This is all part of what we
are beginning to refer to as conditioning.
This classic story is not, of course, too realistic, and it is possible that
the beggar would have chosen some other day to experiment with the experience
of blindness if he had been told about the gold. Or he may not -- we will
never know. But it does serve to highlight the topic of intention. Unless
we actively look for something, we tend not to see it.
This is true both literally and metaphorically. Our conscious mind would
be inundated with excess data if we studied everything within view with maximum
intensity. That is the great benefit of our ability to see patterns; once
glanced at and recognized, it can safely be ignored enabling us to concentrate
on newer information. But sometimes, as with optical illusions, try as we
might we cannot avoid our minds coming to conclusions that are quite wrong.
Either way, it is important to understand that when any two people look at
the same scene, they always perceive it differently. They see it in terms
of their previous experience; essentially, they see what they want to see.
In a classic piece of early research on how prior expectations alter perceptions
, film of a sports game between Princeton and Dartmouth was seen by two groups
of students who attended those institutions. The students were asked to note
any infractions of rules they noticed. Most of the Princeton students thought
the game was "rough and dirty", 90% of them believing that the other side
started the rough play, and they recorded twice the number of penalties against
Dartmouth compared with their own side. The Dartmouth students also described
the game as "rough" but said the two sides were equally to blame, and recorded
equal numbers of penalties to each side. From the combined reports, it is
difficult to believe that all the students watched the identical piece of
film.
In another experiment, a professor told his class that they would be listening
to a guest lecturer that day. He handed out a brief biographical note of
the speaker, but there were two versions of the note. Half included a sentence
that described the lecturer as a "rather cold person, industrious, critical,
practical, and determined." The other half were identical, except for the
fact that the word "cold" was changed to "warm". This single word substitution
made a significant difference in the way the students view the lecture; the
"warm" students liked the lecturer better and volunteered more in the discussion.
It seems that we are only too enthusiastic to create a frame of reference
around any subject, and key words such as "warm" and "cold" act as strong
catalysts that set the scene for what is to come.
--Emerson, The Conduct of Life, 1860
There is No Such Thing as a Boundary Until You Discover
That You Have Just Crossed One
We rarely venture outside the box. Each time we attempt it, we experience
resistance.
And so it is with the mind. We become used to a certain lifestyle, not realizing
that we have trapped ourselves inside a box. If we think of the brain as
a muscle, it is easy to understand that if we fail to stretch it regularly
it will choose to function only minimally; it becomes out of shape.
It is easier to maintain a habit than to begin one afresh. Without motivation
to change, we often reduce ourselves to functioning minimally. We easily
forget that in doing so, in creating this box, we develop a fixed way we
see the world, and the world reinforces our beliefs.
If we are inside a box, we are dependent on its windows to see outside. We
could think of the window pane as having a distorting effect, filtering the
information that passes through it. The windows could, for example, be bright,
or of stained glass, or difficult to see through. They could make the outside
look distant or frightening, playful or complex. In extreme cases they might
not let any light through at all.
Commonly, as new alternatives appear in the world, they appear either invisible
or inaccessible from inside the box because our filters reinforce the status
quo. When our box was new it might once have had bright, clear or even
rose-tinted windows through which we could see opportunities all around.
But the glass has a special and important quality; it only retains its clarity
through constant use. It conforms to our moods and developing personality.
It easily becomes darkened and distorted through non-use or lowered expectations.
It has been said that fish living in two parts of an aquarium separated by
a glass partition generally continue to stay in their original half even
if the partition is removed. Adults quickly become comfortable inside their
individual box. We become unaware of the filter on the window and even of
the shape and size of the box. We learn to adapt to its constrictions. We
therefore forget that there are boundaries; only if we tried to stretch ourselves
would we notice they are there at all.
It is natural for children to play with boundaries and continually push them
to establish the limits of freedom.
Unless children experience the consequences of their actions, perhaps boundaries
do not mean anything to them. It is all too easy to try to protect our children
from all risk, but this is neither feasible nor desirable. It is more painful
for the parent to watch the child fall and bruise than it is for the child
itself. But the child will be more careful next time because something has
been learned. Learning by experience is more valuable than learning by warning;
there can be no argument with experience, and it is unquestionably objective.
Perhaps we need to set up more suitable and immediate feedback mechanisms
for children if we want them to learn something better.
-- John F. Kennedy Address, Rice University, 1962
Thinking Can Only Come About By Developing Ways to
Avoid Thinking
The very purpose of our ability to function on autopilot is to release us
from the curse of having to reassess everything anew.
Much of our body functions with the aid of homeostasis. When an internal
state is disturbed, the organism is motivated to produce activity that seeks
equilibrium again. Our ability to maintain constant body temperature and
blood sugar levels are closely regulated systems that we rely on every day.
We become reliant on these habits, but not all habits are helpful.
One of the problems created by an addiction to alcohol or to a drug like
heroin is that a new chemical equilibrium is established in the body. Once
this occurs, homeostatic tendencies then operate to maintain this new state,
and the individual begins to experience a compulsive craving for the substance
to which he has become addicted.
Our consciousness works on a similar model. By becoming so fluent at thinking
in a particular way, we are freed from the treadmill of having to constantly
analyze everything we experience.
Household appliances take much drudgery out of keeping a home. Instead of
scrubbing and wringing our clothes to wash and dry them, we simply press
a button. But what if we use the time thus saved to buy other appliances,
so that we can press more buttons?
By thinking on autopilot, we are free. But free to do what? To think on autopilot
on other subjects? If so, eventually we will cease to think creatively at
all. In Carl Jung's words on the subject of modern man:
Every step forward means tearing oneself loose from the maternal womb of
unconsciousness in which the mass of men dwells.... Indeed, he is completely
modern only when he has come to the very edge of the world, leaving behind
him all that has been discarded and outgrown, and acknowledging that he stands
before the Nothing out of which All may grow.
-- Jean Piaget Lecture, date unknown
In Striving to Make Machines Think Like Humans, We
Merely Make Humans Think Like Machines
There are computer systems that `can diagnose blood diseases as well as any
doctor, that can play chess at tournament level and that can win the world
championship in backgammon.' The experts are divided, however, on the issue
of whether a machine can ever be built that is conscious. Indeed, there is
still much debate about what consciousness is.
Perhaps we limit our thinking if we believe that we are replicatable by computer.
We may well be able to produce computers that pass the Turing Test, which
most people interpret as a test as to whether an expert can distinguish the
machine's performance from that of a human, but it is highly arguable that
the computer understands what is really going on. John Searle argues that
no matter how powerful Artificial Intelligence becomes, because those systems
use syntax which is not the same as semantics or meaning, `instantiating
a program by itself is never sufficient for having a mind'.
Others disagree, arguing that if consciousness has a physical substrate,
it should be possible to build a conscious machine. Some of the confusion
on the subject is shown clearly in this conclusion to a paper titled `Could
a Machine be Conscious?'
Clearly we are still wrestling with the issues. In the meantime, there is
still talk of computers as though they are approaching human potential, and
this is surely more an indictment of the speaker's limited view of humans
than an accolade for recent computer progress.
Perhaps one day we will produce technology that can mimic the type of human
functions that can be easily be analyzed and evaluated. The real test will
be to see if machines can inspire, or demonstrate intuition or creativity.
Would a computer have thought of turning light into laser beams, which in
turn would initiate both weapons and CD players?
If we think like computers we condition ourselves into a tight, logical box.
In contrast, the human mind has the ability to redefine itself at will, and
the bigger the problem faced, the bigger the opportunity for breakthrough
and transformation.
-- Descartes `I think, therefore I am'--Le Discours de la méthode,
1V, 1639
Values Give Us Structure, Structure Gives Us Freedom,
Freedom Gives Us.... Our Values
We could all list our opinions on many thousands of topics, many of which
we do not consciously think about from one year to the next. How do we possibly
remember them all?
The answer is that we have a deeper level of understanding at our disposal;
we have values and beliefs. In a sense, we are what our values and beliefs
are. If ever we are asked our opinion and no immediate answer comes to mind,
we simply look to our values and the answer becomes clearer. One changed
value, one altered belief, and a huge array of changes can automatically
follow. We construct our own reality in this way.
Under all that we think, lives all we believe, like the ultimate veil of
our spirits.
Our values therefore give us structure to our lives. This gives us the freedom
we need not to have to remember every opinion in detail. We are free to think
about other things, and refer to our master table of beliefs and values when
necessary.
This freedom is a significant up from, say, the logical and factual world
of the typical computer. It allows us the chance to shape our personality
and create the very values we wish to adopt. This very circularity is both
a strength and a weakness, however. If we choose not to reassess our belief
system from time to time, we go around in predictable circles forever. One
of the most uplifting and empowering concepts available to us is the realization
that we can systematically change our beliefs and values whenever we want
to. This can have enormous transformational potential.
There is another reason to consider periodically assessing values and beliefs.
If we achieve greatness in terms that society recognizes, the prize might
not mean much to the individual unless it is closely aligned to inner fundamental
principles. This strikes at the heart of many psychological difficulties,
because many people work hard to fulfill family, business or social expectations,
often at great personal sacrifice, only to realize too late that it relates
little to their core values. It is easy to forget these values when distracted
by the agendas of others. When this happens, it is not surprising that learning
and growth potentials, peace of mind and health begin to break down even
as society applauds and `rewards' the so-called successful individual.
-- Goethe, The Sorrows of Young Werther, 1771
Much has been said about how two people can come to different conclusions
when looking at the same data. We could do a simple experiment.
Let us start with an empty glass. Let me pour water into it until it reaches
the half way point. How would you describe the glass?
Now let us repeat the same experiment with a glass full of water. I will
slowly pour its contents down the drain in front of your eyes until water
is again at the half way point. How would you describe the glass at this
moment? Is the description different?
There is not much to learn merely by looking at a glass which is 50% filled
with water. But when we know of the history and the process involved, we
learn to see it in a new way.
If we are conditioned to see things pessimistically, it is difficult but
not impossible to break the habit in later life. It is conditioning that
determines how we view the glass.
Optimistic children tend to become optimistic adults, instinctively seeking
solutions to new problems rather than being defeated by them. In fact, the
problems do not even look much like problems to them.
Society will reward the optimistic adult more than the negative one, because
problem solvers are more valuable in business and more attractive in our
personal lives. However, as problem solving is easy if the attitude is right,
their success in society is not necessarily achieved through harder work
or higher intelligence but `merely' as a result of earlier conditioning that
the glass is half full.
-- James Branch Cabell, The Silver Stallion.
We Do Research After We Come to Conclusions
People generally claim to do research and evaluate data before making
conclusions; this is a logical and reasonable approach. Surely this is how
we run our lives and our society?
No; we generally work the other way round. Much of the time we make our decisions
first and then find only the data that supports our decision. Even though
we profess to focus so much on intellectual and analytical skills, most of
our decisions are not cognitive in nature.
We do what we do based on our instincts, intuitions and emotions. We are
much more comfortable relying on these than on cold, hard evidence. It seems
that no matter how strong the evidence is, if it conflicts with our instincts
it will usually be seen as flawed data, or simply ignored altogether, or
new data will be sought that confirms the original assertion.
Two politicians of opposing parties can look at the same data and come to
opposing conclusions. In fact they do this every day, because the same data
is available to everyone. It does not necessarily mean that the politician
is deliberately manipulating facts or misleading people; it is often merely
a reflection on the filters of conditioning that each person happens to have.
But few admit that decisions are made this way.
It is not too far from the truth to think that most adults still operate
out of what they learned even before they were teenagers. They run companies
that way and they choose their partners that way. This is not wrong as such,
as long as we are being honest with ourselves in our arguments. There is
no point having two people spend time disputing facts, or spending money
researching them in the first place, if the end result is predictable anyway.
-- Finley Peter Dunne, Mr Dooley Says, 1910
We Learn The Most When We Try The Least
A rigid attachment to anything will not encourage true learning to take place.
The trick is to make the decision to change, do something about it, and then
let it happen. We have to allow our mind to do its best work; it cannot be
forced into it.
Prasad: I read this story recently in an anthology (The Song of a Bird by
Fr. Anthony De Souza):
He kept at his task for some weeks and never heard anything but the sound
of the sea. Finally he decided to give up the attempt, thinking the legend
to be false or that he was perhaps not destined to hear the bells. It was
his final day, and he went to the shore to say good-bye to the sea, and the
sky, and the wind, and the coconut trees. He lay on the sand, and for the
first time, decided not to try to block the sound of the waves but to enjoy
listening to them.
Soon he was so lost in the sound that he was barely conscious of himself.
Suddenly he heard it! The tinkle of a tiny bell followed by another, and
another and another, until every one of the thousand temple bells was pealing
out in harmony and his heart was rapt in joyous ecstasy.
Legends apart, there is no doubt that we can try too hard to comprehend,
for example by trying to cram an entire course too close to an examination,
or by becoming too tense before an important meeting.
This not a paradox; trying too hard is not the same as having too much intention
to succeed. Instead of forcing against a barrier, it might be best to step
back a moment and see if there is another way through.
Cramming for an exam is not suffering from an excess of intention to learn
something; it is more likely to be caused by fear of failing the exam. If
we genuinely want to learn the material we would do better to follow our
instincts and relax, and simply read with interest. Perhaps the worst thing
we can do when studying is be studious.
If we notice we are enjoying exploring the material, stopping every now and
then to contemplate the subject, walking about for a while, checking a reference
in another book that it reminds us of, then continuing to read with yet more
fascination, we will discover we have learned in a deep and powerful way.
This casual approach is hard to do if we are in panic mode, because we probably
feel that we should sit still and glare at the book until well into the night
in the hope that its contents will somehow transfer to our brains. Deep learning
cannot be rushed or contrived any more than laughing, or falling in love,
can be guaranteed by trying harder.
To children, fun, play and learning are essential all the same thing. When
they are laughing, making noises and trying new things, learning is taking
place at a fast rate. Learning rarely occurs when they are sitting quietly,
working alone and following rigid rules. This is not to say that discipline
is not necessary; it has its important uses but discipline does not necessarily
have much to do with learning as such. By allowing children to divert their
attention from what looks like education, we can accelerate their learning.
It is difficult to think of anything learned that was not in some way enjoyable.
Without enjoyment the most that can be gained is some factual knowledge,
but this type of knowledge generally does not become used in any deep or
creative way.
As I prepared to receive my opponent's serve, a sense of hopelessness came
over me, but then I felt a strong intention to fight. There was nothing to
lose at that point and so I loosened up. I started returning the serve
aggressively and focused only on returning the ball. Within a short time,
I was 6-6 and somehow I won the second set at 17-15 and I won the match 1-6,
7-6, 6-3.
We now refer to the state of mind that produces this type of result as the
`zone,' a place where we play like a dream and nothing goes wrong. By playing
the game and not worrying about the result we can draw from deeper reserves
of talent and rapidly develop new skills at the same time. In his famous
book, Gallwey talks about two selves: The `I' that performs, learns and plays
and the other `I' that observes, judges and evaluates. When the `observer'
gets out of the way and allows the `player' to just play, dramatic improvements
in performance can be achieved.
-- Igor Stravinsky. 1966
Movement from one stage to another is not automatic. We can get trapped in
any of these stages.
In this section, we looked at how each of us is conditioned or scripted
differently. These scripts influence us to act in ways which are reinforcing
our basic beliefs and values. This happens because at some point we unconsciously
and automatically limit our choices. We operate from the box until we eventually
see a better alternative, and we escape. What we escape to, of course, is
another box. We should not be discouraged by this, because with luck the
new box may genuinely be better in some way; perhaps larger, perhaps with
room for another person, or less rigid, or with fewer and less distorted
window filters, and so on. Luck has nothing much to do with it; we create
the box ourselves each time. The actual process of changing boxes can be
exhilarating and enlightening in itself.
Since we are not consciously aware of this process, we usually behave as
if we are on automatic pilot most of the time. Being on autopilot is not
necessarily bad and, in fact, we could not even function effectively if we
did not have this advanced feature. For example, when we are driving we do
not want to be conscious of all the detailed actions we need to take. We
would be exhausted after five minutes. We should be grateful that autopilots
do much of the thinking for us, but we should be aware what autopilots we
have, where they come from, when they are in operation, how to find a better
one, and when to choose to take manual control once in a while.
What allows us to break out of the box, to try a new autopilot? The next
section addresses our intentions in greater depth, together with the process
of unlearning our old patterns.
Such transformations lead to dramatic increases in openness and create a
space, a gap between current reality and the future vision. Learning in such
a gap is the subject of the another chapter. If you like to read the chapter
on Openness chapter, Click on Openness: Exploring
the Gap
You can see the learning framework which includes unlearning as an integral
part, you may click here: The Learning Framework
Instinct is not enough to live by; we need
to learn efficient, reliable ways to handle complex but predictable events
in our lives. This is conditioning; scripts we live by, powerful and essential
to our growth. However, there are drawbacks.
The eye obeys exactly the action of the mind.
After a break of 6 months, Prasad recently played two sets of tennis. " My
body did not like it at all and I ached all over for two days. Perhaps my
body thinks that tennis is not good for it! It has been conditioned in a
particular way for the past six months and breaking out of that box requires
work, regular practice. In medical terminology such body resistance is referred
to as 'homeostasis'."
Prasad: " I remember going to a park with my son when he was 2 or 3 years
old. He climbed upon the top of a very high structure when I wasn't looking.
I was afraid to follow him and I couldn't reach him from where I was. For
me it was a frightening experience and for him it was fun. He slowed down
only when he noticed his feet slipping and not when I told him to be careful."
The greater our knowledge increases, the greater our ignorance unfolds
Homeostasis makes it possible for an organism that is essentially unstable
to maintain itself at the maximum efficiency possible for it at a given point
in its life cycle.
The modern man -- or, let us say again, the man of the immediate present--
is rarely met with, for he must be conscious to a superlative degree. Since
to be wholly of the present means to be fully conscious of one's existence
as a man, it requires the most intensive and extensive consciousness, with
a minimum of unconsciousness. It must be clearly understood that the mere
fact of living in the present does not make a man modern, for in that case
everyone at present alive would be so. He alone is modern who is fully conscious
of the present.
Every time you teach a child something, you keep him from reinventing it.
It follows from what has just been said that knowing how to build a computing
machine is not knowing how to build a conscious machine. We do not know this
because we do not know what makes the brain conscious. If we knew what properties
of the brain made it conscious, then we would know the design of a machine
that would be conscious -- where the machine in question might precisely
duplicate the physical nature of the brain. The two questions go together.
Still, the brain is a physical entity and it is conscious, so it must have
some design feature, presumably `physical' in nature (whatever that might
mean) that makes it conscious.
The Romans were familiar with all the mechanical principles and physical
facts which would have enabled them to construct a steam engine, but all
that came of it was the toy made by Hero of Alexandria. The reason for this
is that there was no compelling necessity to go further. This need arose
only with the enormous division of labour and the growth of specialization
in the nineteenth century.
Cogito, ergo sum.
We are so constituted that we believe the most incredible things; and, once
they are engraved upon the memory, woe to him who would endeavor to erase
them.
The optimist proclaims that we live in the best of all possible worlds; and
the pessimist fears this is so.
A firm belief atthracts facts. They come out iv holes in th' ground an' cracks
in th' wall to support belief, but they run away fr'm doubt.
An ancient legend said that an island with a temple of a thousand bells sank
into the ocean, yet the bells continued to ring out ceaselessly, and can
be heard by anyone who would listen. Inspired by the legend, a young man
journeyed thousands of miles, determined to hear those bells. He sat for
days on the shore facing the vanished island and listened with all his might.
But all he heard was the sound of the sea. He made every effort to block
the waves out but to no avail; the more he tried the more they seemed to
flood his mind.
Prasad: Some time ago, I was playing in the finals of a tennis league match.
After losing 6-1 in the first set and trailing at 2-5 in the second, I was
ready to give up. I had lost hope of winning the match and I just wanted
to go home and hide my face.
I have learned throughout my life as a composer chiefly through my mistakes
and pursuits of false assumptions, not by my exposure to founts of wisdom
and knowledge.
Other Chapters of 'Igniting
Your Natural Genius'
You can send any comments or suggestions by clicking here:
comments@mithya.com
Copyright 1998, 1999, The Mithya Institute for Learning. All rights reserved.