I’ve often marveled at how seemingly rational people can forgo reason when engaged in public debate over a land use issue. A few years back I was involved in a community meeting about a new village scale project being proposed for the center of a small Vermont town. Even faced with a plethora of facts, figures and testimonials to the contrary, many people held fast to their belief that the project—designed to mimic the design and spacing of the clustered houses already in the village center—would result in traffic congestion, loss of views and lost sleep due to noisy neighbors. People too easily ignored the positive aspects of the project—avoidance of sprawl, better traffic flow from a new street network—and dwelled only on potential, if unlikely, negative effects. It proved difficult for people to think openly and rationally about this project. Thanks to a new book about happiness, of all things, I am beginning to understand why.
In his book, The Happiness Hypothesis, Jonathan Haidt (a professor of psychology at the University of Virginia) offers insight into where this type of irrational response comes from and why it is so hard for us to change our opinions and our behavior. Combining the wisdom of the past (from Freud to Buddha, Shakespeare to the Bible) with the latest cognitive research, Haidt engages the reader in an insightful exploration of what makes us happy and how we find meaning in our lives, and offers clues to understanding erratic personal and social behavior along the way. Many of the clues come from an understanding of the workings of the human mind—much of the book is devoted to this, starting with a very readable discussion of brain physiology and its impact on human responses. Throughout the book, Haidt provides a menu of things that we need to consider, work on, and ultimately achieve in order to find happiness. This could have resulted in a “self help” book but, thankfully, The Happiness Hypothesis avoids that fate.
Related Links
Of particular usefulness to the planning field, or at least for understanding the dynamic of the meeting I attended, is the description of how the human mind is divided and often in conflict, resulting in a situation where feelings take preference over reasoning. Haidt uses the analogy of a rider (our rational and conscious self or ego) trying to control an elephant that often has its own desires and agenda (our unconscious, emotional self) to explain why we often have difficulty behaving in a rational way. It turns out it is sometimes very hard to control what our elephant does.
Haidt takes this concept further by looking at the evolution of the brain. In order to survive, humans have learned to take quick action when faced with a threat (“that is something that can eat me”) and respond slower when faced with opportunity (“should I catch and eat that frog now or later?”). As our species evolved, the fearful and cautious response was reinforced because it helped us survive and has now been hardwired into our brains. Consequently, our brain’s automatic system, our survival mechanism, is much stronger and more developed than our controlled system which reasons and plans, weighing pros and cons before taking action. The result is that we respond first, and rational thought comes later.
We don’t necessarily need such a strong automatic response today, but remnants of it give us what Haidt refers to as a “negative bias” and explain why we react strongly to threats, like a new kind development next door, that we fear may impact our quality of life, even if our reaction is irrational or pre-rational. This makes it difficult for us to engage in new or forward thinking. It also reduces the likelihood that we will be influenced by facts or arguments that speak to the rational rider, but not to the emotional elephant. To make matters worse, our brain is hard-wired to invent a rational argument or justification for our irrational behavior (i.e., the rider will invent an explanation for why the elephant does something that makes no sense).
The take-home message—as it relates to planning and bringing about changes in attitude and behavior—is to not focus so much on conscious thought (the rider), and the typical rational analysis of a situation in order to influence a decision, but rather to find ways to train the elephant to think and behave differently. Haidt suggests personal work to understand and improve ourselves as individuals, offering up meditation, cognitive therapy and Prozac as the three main pathways to this retraining. Although a part of me is really tempted to find out what would happen if all planning meeting participants were given a mood altering drug prior to public debate, I think there are less controversial approaches worth exploring first. Perhaps we need to de-emphasize the facts and set the ground work for a better public process by finding ways to help people in our communities understand their social lives, and habitual responses and behaviors, in a way that makes it possible for them to be less influenced by the behavior of their elephant. Then maybe they can engage with others more effectively. Complete Buddhist enlightenment may be too much to hope for, but if everyone worked a little harder to acknowledge and rein in their elephants we’d all be better off.