Showing posts with label psychology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label psychology. Show all posts

March 3, 2021

Never say “I don't have time to.”


There are some things which I don't have time for. I could not walk 100 miles a day. I could not read 100 books in a day (well, maybe kids' books). 

But have you noticed that when people say “I don't have time to” they are never talking about activities that are actually, physically, impossible to find time for? 

“I don't have time to...cook, exercise, read, keep the house clean.” But other people do all those things. Do they have more time than you do?

A variation is to extend “I don't have to” to pretend that literally no one can do the thing. “I don't understand how anyone can work full time and still find time to cook.” Or: “once you have kids, you won't have time to exercise.”

These lines always trigger me because they are so obviously false. Look around you and you will see many examples of people who work and have kids and still manage to do X.

(We have a cultural taboo about talking about success, so the people in your life who actually do do the things might never tell you about it, unless you actively ask. [I'll tell you, but I have no social skills.])


So why do people claim that things they want to do are impossible? Partly because they don't have successful role models. Partly because it palliates the pain of failure. “No one with kids has a clean house.” “Of course I'm fat, I'm an American haha.” “Only rich people can save money.” Stop doing this. To invest in convincing yourself your goals are impossible is to commit to failure rather than success.


To steal a line from another domain: you have time for anything, but not everything. 

Note that I am not telling anyone what to do. You understand your own circumstances best, and I don't have the information or the right to tell you what your priorities should be. If you've looked into the costs and the benefits and you're happy not exercising, not reading, or whatever, that's fine with me. I hear TV is great lately.


What I want readers to get out of this is the understanding that their life choices are choices. Distinguishing between a choice you are making and a fate you have to accept is surprisingly hard. It took me about 20 years to break out of that sort of learned helplessness. No institution, and no parent, really has an interest in helping you build an independent life—they want you to conform, consume, and defer to them. It's hard—but you have to build the life you want for yourself yourself.


To a first approximation, your life is not imposed on you by Fate. You choose what your life looks like.

February 17, 2021

You choose how much free time you have.

 

Will you buy a house or rent? Live close to work or further away?


Do you want a pet? Multiple pets? What kinds?


What about a child, or multiple kids? Will you wait until you're in a stable relationship to get pregnant?


Will you see friends or family every week? Less often? Not at all?


How many hobbies will you have, and how much time will you spend on them?

We don't usually think of it this way, but when we make these decisions we are deciding how much free time we will have. You get to choose!

 

What inspired this post is the vibrant debate in the personal finance community about whether it makes sense to hire a housecleaner. Some are violently opposed. Obviously, being time-rich makes it easier to make choices on principle, whether it's cleaning your own house, living with one or no cars, or cooking your own meals. The time-poor have less slack, due to their choices.

Some choices are more easily reversible than others. Once you've decided to have three kids, two dogs, and live in a big house an hour from work, it's going to be hard to impossible to get back to having more free time. 

Are those bad choices? Eh. Everything's a tradeoff.


The more I write about this, the better the analogy between time and money seems.


“But I can't sell my house, I'd lose a fortune. And I can't give away my dogs! And of course I can't abandon my kids.”

Actually, you can. People make these choices every day. They don't make them without cost, or effort, but they make them.


Now don't confuse the statement that you CAN do something with the statement that you SHOULD do something. Of course you shouldn't abandon your kids, or give away your pets (exception for vicious dogs). But making that mental step from thinking of your life as your fate, to thinking of it as your choice, is crucial.

December 15, 2018

When I was kidnapped, they took away my books. If you know me, you'll understand how bad this was. What do people do with free time, without books? Within a few weeks, I talked my therapist into letting me have a copy of the Bible. I figured they couldn't refuse, because religion, and although the therapist was well aware I was not a believer, he was, and must have figured it would be good for me.

The Bible I was given was a thick, cheap paperback, and after a month or so tumbling around in my hiking backpack and being read while I was in my sleeping bag on the desert ground, the pages were folded and dirty and the cover came off. So, when I went to my boarding school, they wouldn't let me keep it. I tried playing the "but it's the Bible!" card, but it didn't work. They said I could have another Bible, but I couldn't have this one, because it didn't look nice. I never got another Bible.

September 16, 2017

On being likable


It's occurred to me lately that some people like me. I don't mean people being friendly to me because they want to have sex with me, or because they're trying to be professional, or because they're generally friendly people. I think--and bear with me here--that some people actually enjoy my company for its own sake. So much of our socializing is somewhat forced--you hang out with people because they are in the same school, or workplace, or social group. I always thought that I was being tolerated as part of the group. But--maybe--not always?

This opens up whole new vistas for me. The best I generally expect of other people is that they will tolerate me if I am quiet and don't cause trouble. (Legacy of a childhood being told to talk more, and then told I was crazy when I talked.) What would it be like if I instead believed that there was a real possibility some people would enjoy being around me?

Deep question. I wish I had known this earlier. I've started reaching out to people a bit more as a result. A friend called me this morning and I called him right back. On the telephone!

August 20, 2017

Psychosomatic illness: final post



Physical manifestations of unhappiness are something we all experience; they are not personality flaws or signs of weakness, they are a part of life. Life is hard sometimes. It is harder for some than for others. We all manifest that hardship in different ways.

Each of these diagnoses is considered either entirely medically unexplained or only partially explained and with a large psychological component:
 
Amalgam poisoning, irritable bowel syndrome, candida syndrome, chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, chronic Lyme disease, Morgellon's syndrome, formication, electromagnetic poisoning, environmental or chemical sensitivities, food intolerance.

 I recently went to a dinner party where every person bar two, at a table of ten, reported that they had an intolerance of or allergy to at least one foodstuff. Most had developed the allergy in middle age, which is not how an allergy typically behaves...People look for explanations for changes in their bodies, something to account for every unpleasant feeling. There is an unwillingness to accept behavioral or emotional factors, or the effects of aging, as an explanation. Society and the media are often available to provide a more agreeable answer and to add to the symptom pool available

The question that we, the unaffected, must answer for ourselves is, can we give a disability that has its roots in behavioral or psychological factors the same respect that we offer to a physical disease? If the answer is yes, then none of the other controversies matter any longer.

The placebo effect is another illustration of the mind-body connection--you might call it the psychogenic cure. Also widely and deeply misunderstood. Did you know, for instance, that the placebo effect works even if you are aware of it? Understanding this makes me skeptical of some of the self-experimentation people sometimes do. "Try X, it worked for me!" is a terrible, terrible argument. And it remains terrible no matter how much useless precision the author gives you about so many milligrams of whatever at whatever time of day immediately after exercise. I'm looking at you, Tim Ferriss! (Scott Alexander is also guilty of this to a lesser extent.) Did you do a randomized double-blind study on yourself? I don't fucking think so. You have no idea whether a given treatment worked on your body or your mind.

This doesn't mean that you should never try unproven remedies. My personal conclusion is that we should pay a lot more attention to the costs of the treatments we choose. Lots of home remedies are acceptable for this reason. If you think that valerian tea helps you sleep or ginger ale alleviates nausea, go ahead and use it without worrying too much about randomized controlled trials—your cost is only a small amount of money and trouble. In other words, the cost-benefit ratio is more likely favorable when the cost is negligible.

But with treatments that are much more costly, such as surgery, medications with serious side effects, and any involvement with the mental/behavioral health system, you need to be a lot more careful in assessing the likely benefits. For example, do you think the doubtful benefit of antidepressants is worth the 40-60% chance of loss of libido, to name just one of their costs?

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3108697/

I have my own answer to this, of course (sex is great), but my real message is to pay attention to the costs, and to be skeptical of the success stories you hear.

Psychosomatic illness 6: the feminist position



I'd like to devote a special post to the feminist objection to the concept of psychosomatic illness. This objection deserves some respect, drawing as it does upon the long and troubled history of women being labelled mentally ill for specious and doubtful reasons. The concept of mental illness is of course a means of social control, and one that has weighed particularly heavily on women. Female eccentrics such as me have often been defined as mad. And of course, women are sometimes called “hysterical” as a pure insult, with no factual content, as when Kamala Harris, the new Senator, was called “hysterical” for her prosecutorial style of questioning a witness. (For more, see Phyllis Chesler, Women and Madness, or Elaine Showalter).

This line of thinking has been popularized in the feminist blogosphere, so that many people have a kneejerk negative reaction to any suggestion that a woman's illness is “all in her head.” Some have gone so far as to conclude that the very word “hysteria” ought to be banned as sexist. These people have never read Breuer.

Because if you read Breuer, or Freud, Charcot, or Janet (okay I've never read Janet), you get the other side of the story of hysteria. Of course mental illness is a means of social control, and I'm generally the first to make that point. But mental illness also causes people to suffer, which is why, even today, most adults who are treated for mental illness undergo that treatment voluntarily. And many of them would still be suffering even in the Feminist Utopia. The vast majority of cases of Victorian/Edwardian hysteria weren't a matter of "she wants a job, she must be crazy," they involved painful and disabling symptoms that any doctor in any era would identify as meaning that Something Is Wrong. Symptoms like paralyzed limbs, weeks of catatonia, hysterical blindness and muteness, inability to eat, seizures, fainting, as well as abilities that some observers saw as supernatural, such as gaining the ability to speak new languages, withstanding needle wounds with no sign of pain, and sustaining bizarre arched postures for hours at a time.

We need, therefore, to treat mental illness, including psychosomatic illness, if we want to help suffering people, but we also need to rein in those who would use mental health care as a tool of oppression. A good rule of thumb is the libertarian principle; let others do what they want with their own minds and bodies as long as they don't harm anyone else. Don't call the police on your suicidal friend; he has the right to die if she wishes. And be very, very skeptical when children, the elderly, or institutionalized people have “treatment” forced upon them by their keepers.

I rate this objection: Half-right.

July 6, 2017

Psychosomatic illness 5: how do you pick your symptoms?



What determines the type of psychosomatic symptoms a person experiences? Why is it that one person shows up with seizures, another with a numb leg, another with a paralyzed hand?

Personal life experience is
a great molder of psychosomatic illness. People learn, probably in childhood or young adulthood, what sort of symptoms get people attention and care. In addition to genetics and environment, this is why certain families tend to be robust or to be sickly. One family's culture is to downplay sickness and keep a stiff upper lip; another family dwells on, analyzes and magnifies every twinge of pain, and gives the sick person a great deal of deference and respect. Children who experience the serious illness of a sibling or a parent are more likely to develop psychosomatic illness, and tend to develop symptoms similar to those of the physically ill relative. Parents pass on strategies that make life easier, whether that means embracing illness or turning to alcohol, drugs or food for comfort.

O'Sullivan says, Early exposure to chronic ill health can inadvertently encourage illness behavior and, as we have seen, shape how psychosomatic illness presents, with patients often suffering from symptoms they have come across before in others. The tendency to respond to every bodily sensation, rather than ignore them as the majority of us do, may be learned at a very young age. They are reacting to symptoms that others might dismiss, and these reactions serve to heighten the symptoms and awareness of them.

Psychosomatic illness 4: Why denial?


What does it look like (and feel like) when someone refuses to accept a diagnosis of psychosomatic illness?

Often, the person denies the possibility of psychosomatic illness, not just because they want to avoid lowering their status, but because they are consciously not aware of any of the stress or trauma that outside observers can identify in their lives. Psychosomatic symptoms are themselves evidence of denial.

Last year I got sick right after graduating from law school; another illness hit me a few weeks later, after my first triathlon. The second illness was pretty bad, and I had no choice but to spend weeks resting, physically and mentally, something I hardly ever do. No more studying or eating or going to the gym or leaving the house; even a visit to the art museum exhausted me. My husband suggested that law school, the triathlon, and studying for the bar might have stressed me out. Ridiculous, I said. Sure, *other* people might find those things difficult, but not me. Look at the statistics. What do I have to worry about?

This is common. When a person denies the possibility of psychosomatic illness, it may be because they fear lowering their status, but it may be because they are consciously not aware of any of the stress or trauma that outside observers can identify in their lives. Psychosomatic symptoms are themselves evidence of denial.

[Patients say] “I had the most wonderful life until I fell ill. I hardly ever had a reason to feel stress.” And I think, how could that be? I have not had a day in my life with no stress at all. In the absolute rejection of stress in these sufferers is there something for us to learn? Ask somebody with dissociative seizures how they feel, and you may get the answer “tired” or “cold”--neither answer containing anything of their emotional state. Perhaps those who deny stress do so because they do not feel stress, having converted it to something else.

June 30, 2017

Psychosomatic illness 3



How can you tell if someone's suffering is psychogenic?

You can do tests and give the patient a list of normal test results. But tests are imperfect, and “when a person is paralyzed or blind or suffering from convulsions, it is not difficult to see why they find that a very unsatisfactory explanation.“

Very often you can't prove that a person's distress is psychosomatic, especially with vague symptoms like fatigue, pain and weakness. This is one reason why symptoms like these are often undertreated: I thought for years that my daily headaches were the result of the stress I was under, and so did everyone else; turns out I just needed glasses.

There are some facts that tend to suggest that an illness is psychosomatic, however. You can figure out whether the patient is under unusual stress, and if so, whether she is able to consciously acknowledge it. You can look at the patient's history of mental illness or other unexplained symptoms. This is of course a controversial and inaccurate technique; a person's past mental illness doesn't make it impossible for them to later develop physical illness, and what it can seem like to the patient is “you think I'm lying because I had a mental illness”---the standard experience for people labeled mentally ill.

Another technique is to look at the nature of the symptoms--is the symptom consistent with anatomical and biological facts? What treatments does the symptom respond to? O'Sullivan is lucky in that neurological symptoms can be assessed more easily than most.

Conversion disorders are usually a poor mimic of neurological disease. Symptoms that arise through stress or anxiety are produced in the mind and are dependent on what the sufferer understands about the body and disease. The subconscious mind reproduces symptoms that make sense to the individual's understanding of how a disease behaves. In the absence of detailed knowledge of the body, disabilities that arise in the subconscious rarely obey anatomical rules. Aspects of the examination can be assessed objectively, without the participation of the patient.

So, for example, one patient, worrying about a harmless lump on the right side of her head, developed numbness all done the right side of her body. Because she didn't know that the right brain controls the left side of the body, her subconscious had imagined her symptoms wrong.

Another person was unable to straighten his leg when sitting on the exam table. But he was able to use the same quad muscle to stand up from a chair without using his hands, establishing that the muscle weakness was not physically caused.

A third patient was given an injection of botulinum to treat a painful muscle spasm which had incapacitated her hand. Immediately, she reported she was cured--even though the botulinum only takes effect days later.

In the case of psychosomatic seizures—horrifingly common—the cause of the symptoms can be assessed through monitoring the patient's brain waves 24/7 until the person has a seizure. Normal brain function while a seizure is going on rules out epilepsy.

None of these techniques, however, will convince a patient who is firmly in denial. If I don't have epilepsy, maybe I have some previously unknown seizure disorder. Or my subconscious might come up with a new set of symptoms as soon as the previous symptoms have been found psychogenic. And there's always that old standby, “Medical science doesn't know everything, does it?” Even an experienced and tactful doctor like O'Sullivan finds a number of patients walk away, refusing to accept the diagnosis.

Psychosomatic illness 2b

These psychosomatic illness posts are inspired by a recent book by Suzanne O'Sullivan. I've been waiting for this book for a year, and it was worth the wait. The author, a British neurologist, writes about her experiences with the significant minority of her patients who show up with neurological symptoms, such as seizures, paralysis, or numbness, that turn out to be psychogenic. As a neurologist, she has an impressive array of tools that allow her to rule out organic illness, and as an NHS doctor, she seems to be freer to tell patients the truth and to deny them the tests they ask for than the average U.S. doctor.

Psychosomatic illness is treatable—in fact, “if addressed early enough, many of the manifestations of psychosomatic disorders spontaneously disappear without treatment.” But it's hard to treat--first, because the doctor must consider the possibility of psychosomatic illness, and second, because the patient must accept it. The media's narrative about illness doesn't help. When you read about medically unexplained symptoms, the story is: patient suffers, callous doctors can't help, until finally she finds the one doctor who knows what's going on. Doctors' suggestions that the problem may be psychosomatic are treated as insults directed against the patient. (Examples of this kind of narrative can be found at http://wapo.st/2qxCMm2 and http://bit.ly/2pkcswZ).

A patient in the latter article describes how she resisted suggestions of a psychosomatic illness: “When I found out there was an actual physical thing wrong, it was such a relief, because it meant I wasn't just a hypochondriac or a sissy—it was real." She's happy that she has a physical illness, because having a psychosomatic illness would mean being weak and ridiculous. Because she doesn't want to think of herself as weak or ridiculous, she must have a physical illness. She must reject suggestions of psychosomatic illness and go on doctor-shopping until she gets a diagnosis of physical illness. Of course, it's true that doctors are not perfect diagnosticians, and getting a second or third opinion may be a good idea. But we should consider the possibility of a psychosomatic illness as fairly as we consider the possibility of a physical one. In fact, according to the author, it's more common for a psychosomatic illness to be misdiagnosed as physical than the reverse.

And this harms patients. “The more completely somebody has denied the psychiatric diagnosis and imagined a particular physical paradigm to explain an illness, the more prolonged that illness becomes.”

"The harm that comes from incorrectly labeling a psychosomatic illness as organic, while often underestimated, can be immeasurable. If somebody has been told they have epilepsy and has been allowed to believe that they have a serious, potentially life-threatening brain disease, then this belief alone may be so enmeshed in their mind that it affects their ability to recover...It might lead to toxic unnecessary treatment. It might lead a person to make unnecessary life changes to accommodate the disease. But most importantly, the wrong diagnosis will deny the person the correct treatment. When illness functions as a crutch, it may be difficult to relinquish and something is required to take its place. I have told two patients that they had psychogenic seizures and have come back to the ward a day later to find them sporting crutches. Both patients' seizures went into full remission, but neither could walk unaided for several weeks."

The author is full of compassion and useful advice for how to discuss this subject with patients. "The exact manner in which the diagnosis of a psychosomatic condition is delivered is of pivotal importance. Seizures will often disappear completely immediately after the diagnosis has been given--if it has been given well, that is." Hearing that "The tests are normal. There's nothing wrong with you. Go home" is only going to alienate patients without helping them. Psychogenic illness is something wrong, and something that desperately needs to be treated.

Psychosomatic illness 2



What is psychosomatic illness? Here we arrive at a difficulty, because as soon as I start telling you that X Syndrome is psychosomatic, commenters will jump in to tell me that they know X Syndrome isn't psychosomatic, because their friend had it and she was really suffering and how dare I call her a liar?

This is a stupid objection, but I'm not going to get around to explaining why till later. So, for now, let's focus on less controversial examples of psychosomatic symptoms. In the author's words, “physical manifestations of unhappiness are something we all experience; they are not personality flaws or signs of weakness, they are a part of life.” If you know what it's like to cry, or blush, or tremble, or hyperventilate as a result of emotion, these are all examples of how emotions cause physical changes.

Recall the last time you felt psychosomatic symptoms. Notice that you have a very limited degree of control over these symptoms; even if crying or trembling is very embarrassing for you, you can't make the physical manifestation of an emotion go away any more easily than you can make the emotion go away. This ought not to be news to anyone who feels feelings, but it refutes one common objection to the concept of psychosomatic illness, which is along the lines of "My cousin has chronic fatigue syndrome. I've seen her, and she really suffers! She had to drop out of school and give up her favorite hobby! How can you say she's making it up? Why would she do that to herself?"

Psychosomatic illness indeed causes people pain, and sufferers are not lying or consciously making themselves suffer. It's not a pretend illness; it's an illness. As to why a person would do that to themselves, well, read Freud. Or think back to times when you've wanted to punch a wall, or start an argument, or drink till you pass out, or run till you collapse. Our psyches choose one kind of suffering to avoid another. I rate this objection: Completely Wrong.

Psychosomatic illness 1



Psychosomatic illness is one of the greatest causes of suffering in our society--one that is stigmatized, understudied, underdiagnosed, and undertreated when it is diagnosed. If you've never had a psychosomatic illness yourself, you likely know someone who has. On an average day perhaps as many as a third of people who go to see their general practitioner have symptoms that are deemed medically unexplained (quotes are in italics). For most of us, these symptoms are fairly mild: headache, upset stomach, fatigue. For some, the symptoms become crippling and cinematic: paralysis, seizures, inability to talk, loss of memory.

Almost any symptom we can imagine can become real when we are in distress--tremor, fatigue, speech impairments, numbness. Anything. Almost any function of the body can be affected in almost any way. One day a woman loses speech entirely and the next day she speaks in the voice of a child. A girl feels a lump in her throat and becomes convinced she cannot swallow. Eyes close involuntarily and no amount of coaxing or prising will open them. A boy repeatedly drops the ground; every time he stands, he falls. History has seen every one of these things described. [From a 1764 author]: The colours of the chameleon are not more numerous and inconstant than the varieties of the hypochondriac and hysteric disease.

And yet, many observers as well as sufferers reject the concept of psychogenic illness. I hope that this series of posts will elucidate what psychosomatic is, refute some common objections to the post, and give you an idea of when you should consider the possibility that you have it.

April 13, 2015

How to make a phone call

The first step in making a phone call is putting the call on your schedule. Some people might do it immediately, but you can't risk calling at the wrong time. Maybe you haven't gotten enough sleep or you are in a bad mood or something. You also have to wait for a time when the person will be at work, decreasing the likelihood that he will answer. Maybe if you give it some thought, you can get what you want without a phone call. Really a phone call would never be necessary if not for the stupidity of others. Wait a few weeks or months.

At long last, when it's the right time, find the strength to look up the number. Then, go to the bathroom. Consider your shampoo collection. Which shampoo should you use next? The "rosemary mint" from the New Orleans hotel, the "aloe vera" from Wisconsin, or the "sugared citrus" from Minneapolis? The rosemary mint looks most expensive, but Minneapolis is clearly better than New Orleans.

If you decide you like the rosemary mint best, should you use it last, so that you have the pleasure of anticipating the best? Save the best for last, as they say. Or should you use it first, because you might die before you use them all? Seize the day, they also say. You wouldn't want to die without taking advantage of the best shampoo available to you. You will probably find this decision impossible, but spend some time on it anyway.

When you have lost interest in the shampoo, put the number into your phone. Stare at it, conscious you could still turn back. Then press the call button. Count the rings, forgetting to breathe. If it rings at least five times, it'll probably go to voicemail. It does. You will have planned out precisely what to say on the voicemail in advance, so this is the easy part.

Hang up, and get as much satisfaction as you can out of crossing out the to-do list item. Then it will occur to you that getting a return call is a real risk. Remember how the person's voicemail message said "I will call you back"— so decisive. You're screwed.

Try to distract yourself with an easier task. But how can you concentrate when the phone could ring at any moment? It sits beside you, like a viper ready to strike. You have made a phone call, but it made nothing better. Someday, you will have to talk to a stranger.

August 1, 2014

An upside to sleep deprivation?

I've spent the past week complaining about the effect sleep deprivation has on my mood, concentration ability, IQ, energy, and memory--but now I think there may be an upside. I am more creative. I suppose some of the aforementioned factors--fatigue, lack of focus and IQ--weaken my usual obsessive grip on What Needs to be Done and my rigid ideas about What Ought Not to be Done. As a result, I've been less productive and done things like eat French fries and take the elevator rather than the stairs--but I also find my mind expanding. I think more, rather than constantly seeking something on the agenda to do. New ideas are occurring to me. Suddenly I have half a dozen blog posts to write.

April 28, 2013

A classic kook




For the abnormal psychology enthusiasts. This is a man who is telling the sober truth, it seems to me. The things that happen to him are exactly the same irrational, annoying, and inexplicable things that happen to all of  us. But his strong perception that everything that happens around him is all about him is what makes his thinking classically schizophrenic.

Also interesting that he seems to believe that such a simple thing as a newspaper to read in line would be a weapon against the secret police. As if some part of him knew that the real problem is what happens inside his head when the secret police start their machinations.
 


I looked at around ten apartments...since the secret police had already selected and prepared an apartment for me this proved to be a futile endeavor. It is difficult to relate to and impossible to adjust to the artificial, arbitrary and hostile living environment the secret police have created...they try to turn the most commonplace life experiences and the activities of daily life into a maze-like obstacle course.

While descending the stairs from my apartment I usually meet one or more of the “tenants” trying hard to look as if they live in the building or staging a scene for me to observe. Frequently groups of men are standing or sitting on the stoop when I go out or come in; sometimes blocking the steps so that I have to ask them to move. On days when it is felt some special intimidation is necessary a police car will drive by as I go out and again as I come home...A corner with a hardware store, a sometimes open grocery store and two abandoned buildings is not likely to be a favorite neighborhood hangout yet there are often groups of Puerto Rican and black men standing around. As I approach the intersection, a signal is given and people, most of whom are young men, start crossing the intersection from every direction; people walking on the sidewalks, boys riding by on bikes, and other people driving by in cars...

A male child or a handsome young man presents himself to be looked at while other people observe me. Presumably, if I look at the conspicuously displayed bait, the observer-witnesses claim to have seem proof of sexual interest or an attempted seduction. A few thousand such scenes were staged to create incidents that could be  used to discredit me...

On Tuesday I left my apartment intending to pay my Con Edison bill. At the Con Edison office I looked in the window; the office was unusually crowded and the bill-paying line seemed suspiciously long. I was  generally apprehensive about entering a trap, so I decided to come back the next day.

I left my apartment around 3:05 p.m. on Wednesday. Walking across 14th street, I looked at every newstand for a copy of the New York Times so that I would have something to read while waiting in line. Over a two-year period, I frequently bought or saw papers late in the afternoon at the various newstands; it is highly unlikely they would have all been sold out. I believe intelligence agents asked the newspaper sellers to hide the papers so that I would have nothing to do while waiting except to observe the planned operation. I joined the bill-paying line; there were around ten people in line and as I approached two young men placed themselves directly ahead of me in the line. There were five bill-paying windows. While I waited in line the clerks closed their windows until only one window was left open for customer service. The four people in front of me all went to the same window. I believe this was a delaying tactic to keep me in the office for a longer period of time.

While waiting in line the secret police operation being staged was very obvious. Seven young men presented themselves to be looked at and a man and a woman each walked by me twice staring holes through me...intelligence agents had set up an elaborate but thinly disguised covert operation within the office of a legitimate business. A few weeks earlier I found myself surrounded by game-playing collaborators in a line at my bank. I became angry and denounced them for participating in secret police operations. I believe intelligence agents chose to restage a similar scene in Con Edison’s offices hoping to elicit the same or a similar response; an angry outburst that could be used as “proof” that through paranormal powers I had somehow triggered the transformer malfunction and resulting blackout.


--Kooks: A Guide to the Outer Limits of Human Belief, Donna Kossy

November 12, 2009

Football, dogfighting, and brain damage

I know, I know, sports are boring, but what about this:

"How many people who we assume have Alzheimer’s—a condition of mysterious origin—are actually victims of preventable brain trauma?"

November 7, 2009

The Sixties

The Sixties, by Jenny Diski, has remarkably little to say about the Sixties as such. Most of the book is a personal meditation on the nature of youth--and one of the best such I’ve read, for instance this passage of realistic psychology:

I was sure, the first time I sucked on an LSD-soaked sugar cube, that it would be the end of me. I knew my depressive tendencies. I had had bad trips even on cannabis. The ether and the Methedrine had turned nasty. I was certain that my chances of becoming irredeemably psychotic on acid were very high. I said a serious goodbye to myself as I put the sugar cube on my tongue.

Nonetheless, I took it. Was it because taking a risk was worth the marvellous insights I believed I would get if the trip went the other way? Or, more likely, because risk was by definition good, or at any rate, necessary? There was no choice but to take whatever risk was on offer.


In the last two chapters, the author uses three of my favorite sixties and seventies theorists--Ivan Illich, R.D. Laing and Thomas Szasz--to explore guiltily how “liberation got confused with libertarianism” and the Sixties became the Thatcher era.

The author describes radical teaching practices in the sixties, echoing some of the criticisms her political opponents make today:

We tended devotedly to the lower end of the ability spectrum but paid little attention to the more able. They were us, after all, and we were quite ashamed of our privileges. It got to the point where in some sense we punished the brighter kids for not being underprivileged...The radicals couldn’t always cope with education actually having an effect. If the oppressed stopped behaving like the oppressed, we ddin’t really like it.

Diski’s work as a teacher was influenced by Illich’s ideas, which she now says were both more radical and more right-wing than she had realized. Here’s a sampling of Illich, the author of “Deschooling Society” and the man “too radical for the radical generation”:

The existence of schools produces the demand for schooling. Once we have learned to need school, all our activities tend to take the shape of client relationships to other specialized institutions. Once the self-taught man or woman has been discredited, all nonprofessional activity is rendered suspect...In fact, learning is the human activity which least needs manipulation by others. Most learning is not the result of instruction. It is rather the result of unhampered participation in a meaningful setting.

Even the seemingly radical critics of the school system are not willing to abandon the idea that they have an obligation to the young, especially to the poor, an obligation to process them, whether by love or by fear...


Illich seemed like a leftist at the time, but in fact, when his sort of libertarianism is opposed to paternalistic statism, Diski and her generation are usually on the side of the state.

The majority of the activists in my generation were never as interested in individual liberty as we were in finding ways to implement our own ideas of how the world should be. I’m not sure, on Illich’s still startlingly strict definition, if we were interested in liberty at all...

Illich could well have joined Thatcher and Reagan’s theoretical advisers. I’d resist the claim that the Sixties generation were responsible for the Thatcher years, as I would resist the notion that the Jewish community in Germany were responsible for the advent of the Nazis, but sometimes I can’t help but see how unwittingly we might have been sweeping the path in readiness for the radical Right...


I will refrain from comment on the supposed Thatcherite/Nazi connection. Perhaps if the author were American, she would realize the Right gets a lot more radical than Margaret Thatcher.

Anyway, a less pejorative way of describing Sixties leftists is to say that they were concerned with caring for people rather than simply leaving them free to take care of themselves as best they can. Here’s where Szasz comes in--Diski, a former mental patient, rightly criticizes the author of “The Myth of Mental Illness” for being more concerned with the rights and freedoms of the so-called mentally ill than with their happiness and safety. (Although Szasz would probably point out that the nature of happiness and the value of safety are highly subjective.)

[Szasz believed that] the State had no business interfering with matters of the mind, or even supposing that Mind existed...He refuted the concept of madness in order to refute any claim for civic responsibility towards others...Everyone made their own individual choices: the rich, the poor, the mad, the sane. That was their problem.


Szasz also suggested that when the so-called mentally ill cause real social problems (by stealing, committing violent crimes, or just being a public nuisance) they should be prosecuted like other criminals. Diski takes this suggestion as a sign of Szasz’s lack of compassion for suffering. In fact, Szasz thought that the mentally ill would be protected by being treated like criminals, since those accused or convicted of a crime have many rights and privileges those accused or convicted of mental illness don’t have. (Tangent: an accused criminal has the right to counsel and the right to a fair trial (usually by jury). Most of those convicted of a crime are given a specific, limited sentence, one that cannot be extended indefinitely for the same offense and one that does not depend solely on the discretion of their jailors. From within a prison, prisoners can teach themselves the law, appeal their cases, sue, complain about their treatment. A person accused of mental illness or incarcerated in a mental asylum has none of these advantages.)

Despite this misreading, Diski, in characterizing Szasz and Illich as ‘radical’ ‘far right’ thinkers is pointing to a real and unresolved tension between the idea that people should be free and the idea that society should care for its members (whether they like it or not). The school versus the market, if you will. In the Sixties, the author thought that communitarianism and liberty were naturally joined in leftist political theory--after Thatcher, she knows better, and seems quite willing to abandon liberty along with libertarianism.

Tune in next time for a discussion of Marxist theories of human nature, why Asian people don't understand sidewalks, and, of course, Proust!

October 24, 2009

On magical thinking

Why is it, that, before a job interview, I obsess over my shoes and think of the answers to interview questions, instead of accepting that the result of the interview is almost entirely out of my control? Malinowski* has the answer!

When a man feels himself impotent in a practical situation, whether he be savage or civilised, whether in possession of magic or entirely ignorant of its existence, passive inaction, the only thing dictated by reason, is the last thing in which he can acquiesce. His nervous system and his whole organism drive him to some substitute activity....The substitute action in which the passion finds its vent, and which is due to impotence, has subjectively all the virtue of a real action, to which emotion would, if not impeded, naturally have led.

Now that my attention has been drawn to it, I see such magical thinking everywhere I look. Whenever I start to care about petty things, it's because subconsciously I think these details have magical power over things that matter. If I brush my hair more often, people will like me. If I do the dishes, it means my life is under control. And other absurdities. The antidote is provided by La Rochefoucauld, who says:

Those who concern themselves too much with little things usually become incapable of great ones.
Ceux qui s'applique trop aux petites choses deviennent ordinairement incapables des grandes.


*Bronislaw Malinowski, the early 20th-century Polish-American anthropologist, used to be rather famous in social-sciences circles, but his ideas have since been discredited/assimilated into the mainstream. I am not ashamed of being behind the times.

July 24, 2009

Defining disease

A Slate article on the prevalence of medical overdiagnosis is mostly skippable summary of what we already know. The interesting part comes near the end:

Many critics of modern medical care see overdiagnosis everywhere they look and don't reliably separate the wheat from the chaff. They derisively state that coughing children are too often labeled asthmatic; "twitchy legs" and "impaired sex drive" are inexplicably considered medical problems; those who can't read are for some reason called dyslexic; those who are just sad are instead said to be depressed; and people with joint pain are termed arthritic. The subtext of their comments is, There's nothing wrong with these people. Yet they're still patients who can't sleep, breathe, read, or enjoy sexual relations. They seek help, and it's wrong to ignore them...let's not blame people with dyslexia, erectile dysfunction, or restless leg syndrome for the mess.


Here are the errors. First, the assumption that anything which can be given a fancy name is a disease. Remember that "erectile dysfunction" has only been a disease since Viagra was invented. Before that, men dealt with their psychological problems through psychological means. It's nice that we have drugs now, but they shouldn't be portrayed as the only way to solve a person's problems.

Second, the idea that people who are suffering should be helped does not imply that 'we' (doctors, health insurance companies) should help them. But of course if we were to admit that these conditions are largely within the patients' power to change, we would have to give up our power over them and our ability to define them as 'patients'.

Third, the idea that denying 'disease' status to these conditions amounts to 'blaming' people who suffer from them. Because a person who 'has a disease' deserves our pity and forbearance, while a person who has a simple psychological problem doesn't. This way of thinking is why people like gathering meaningless diagnoses in both the medical and psychological fields. 'Having a disease' allows them to deny their own responsibility for their lives.

Fourth, the error of believing that every problem needs to be solved. It's not okay for people to have flaws and weaknesses; people should be equal, with no personality differences; if some people are bad at reading, they have a disease which needs to be cured. If some people are sad, they need to be argued or drugged out of it.

All common themes in modern medical discourse. All wrong.

May 15, 2009

Another thing to disagree with.

The book, “American Therapy”, by Jonathan Engel.

The basic intention of this book is to describe the history of psychotherapy, from its birth in Europe with Charcot, Breuer, and Freud, to whatever it currently is in America. Insofar as the author confines himself to history, the book is useful. For instance, I never knew how much influence Breuer had on Freud. (He was Anna O.’s sole physician, and came up with the basic idea that talking about memories alleviates hysterical symptoms.) But the author, while positioning himself as a social historian, refuses to confine himself to the discipline required as a historian. He ought to question the veracity and objectivity of his sources, which he hardly ever does. It is therefore a crucial mistake, in fact a mistake which invalidates the entire enterprise of the book, implicitly to assume that the findings of a modern study always invalidate past findings, and that what modern psychologists believe is always more true than what people thought in the past.

As a Freudian, I take offense to sketchy, unsupported statements like, “Studies repeatedly demonstrated that psychoanalysis did not work.” Engel makes no effort to examine how the structure of or the assumptions of these studies might have led to such a conclusion, and he brushes past the question of what it means to be ‘cured’. Orthodox psychoanalysts are described as “clinging to their dogma in a mixture of denial, professional fear, and blind belief.” The author attempts to argue against the existence of an Oedipus complex by quoting Jane Goodall’s observation of chimpanzees! In the epilogue, he justifies the unpopularity of psychoanalysis by appealing to patriotism! “Our can-do nation, often skeptical of intellectualism and scholasticism, was unlikely to embrace an ideology [!] born of fin-de-siècle European angst.”

Is he not aware we are living in another fin de siècle?

Moreover, the author has a rather happy-go-lucky attitude towards institutionally sanctioned medication. (He repeatedly quotes a pro-medication writer saying that Prozac makes people ‘better than well.) Contrast his uniformly condemnatory attitude towards people finding their own medication. His chapter on alcohol is the A.A. philosophy, chapter and verse. No opposing point of view is presented. He even quotes, with approval, some guy who published a study arguing that no one who drinks regularly is psychologically healthy--!--we’re all either alcoholics or future alcoholics, and the ‘social drinker’ doesn’t exist. His chapter on narcotics is similarly subservient to the public health official’s overcautious point of view. (On the first page, he introduces the concept of ‘psychological addiction’--but never does he bother to define this problematic idea or differentiate it from, say, a ‘choice’.)

More crucially, the author repeatedly says that we ‘now know’ that mental illness has an organic basis. What justifies this assertion? Most of the time, he doesn’t bother to tell us. When he does attempt an explanation, it’s insufficient or bafflingly irrelevant. For instance, schizophrenics and control subjects responded differently when given antipsychotic drugs. “The discrepancy in response to the drugs indicated that the brains of schizophrenics were physiologically different than those of healthy people. Schizophrenia was very much a biological condition, even if rooted partially in environmental stressors.” Now, people who have already been categorized as schizophrenics are in a much different emotional and social environment than people casually engaging in a medical study. Might that not produce different responses to any drug in the two groups?

Then, scientists find that schizophrenics’ brains are different from healthy people. Therefore their brains were different when they were born, and they subsequently became schizophrenic because their brains made them. This is the only possibility discussed. But I remember reading that the brain continues to develop long after birth--that’s why malnourished infants are often retarded. Couldn’t a person’s harmful experiences in the womb or as an infant affect the development of his brain, so that psychological traumas à la Freud might precede the organic change in a person’s brain?

Engel’s consideration of psychiatric skeptics like R.D. Laing and Thomas Szasz is confined to four pages. He starts off by calling them names-- “kooky”, “radical”, “pernicious”. “[Alcoholics who quit drinking] would take offense at the accusation of the antipsychiatrists that they had simply stopped drinking because they no longer felt like drinking. In their minds, they had conquered a dreadful disease...” So, when people find it convenient to believe they have a disease, they do? And look at this--Jesus Christ, the blindness--Engel says,
“Many mental illnesses...responded well to medications and shock, further validating an organic understanding of mental illness. Szasz’s worldview, predicated on the assumption that mental illness simply did not exist, could not stand up to clinical and laboratory inquiry.”
First off, has he read Szasz? If he has, he hasn’t read him well. Szasz doesn’t deny that what we call mental illness exists---instead, he says that metaphorically describing this phenomenon as an illness is a harmful and deceptive linguistic strategy. His example is the contrast between a person with a brain tumor and a depressive. We know how the brain is supposed to work (in general...), and we can objectively say the brain tumor gets in the brain’s way. That’s an illness. But on the other hand, we don’t really know how the mind, or the whole person, is supposed to work. Rather than calling certain people sick lunatics who have no control over their actions, it’s more scientific to describe them in neutral terms, as people who act in unusual ways, only some of whom think they ought to change. (And, if we were to go back to Freud, these people might be described as people who _think_ they are slaves to their own minds, while in fact all their actions are freely chosen by the unconscious.)
Second, let’s decode that first sentence. Many mental illnesses responded well to medications and shock. By ‘mental illnesses’ here, he means ‘people’. By ‘responded well’, he means, ‘started acting differently’. So people who acted unusually were imprisoned, drugged, and shocked, and subsequently began to act more in accordance with their keepers’ wishes. In what way does that validate “an organic understanding of mental illness”?

Then he presents, without comment, directly contradictory evidence. If mental illness is organically determined, how does he explain the finding that “spontaneous remission of psychiatric symptoms was observed consistently in a third of all patients”? Doesn’t this suggest that people have some amount of control over their actions, even if those actions are what psychologists prefer to describe as ‘symptoms’?

On the second-to-last page, the author leaves us with his most infuriating mot yet. The psychiatric skeptic Peter Breggin wrote, truthfully I might add, that “[the psychiatrist] can prescribe drugs or shock, lock you up against your will, talk behind your back with your husband, wife or parents, and make plans for your future without consulting you.” Szasz might add a criminal’s being deemed insane might make the difference between a prison sentence of a few months and being committed to an asylum for life. But to Engel, all concern with institutionalized persons’ civil rights and the distrust of institutional authority it stems from is ‘bizarre’. And on the very last page--I didn’t think he would go there, but he did...Those who argue people shouldn’t be locked up and drugged against their will are “among the Neville Chamberlains of the psychological world...willing to surrender hope, standards, and the civic enterprise for the lure of psychic autonomy.”

No one concerned with what life is really like should be a damn shill for the damn system. This book, cursory and easy to read, will be more popular than it deserves.

Well, at least I feel better now.