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10 More Brilliant Social Psychology Studies: Why Smart People Do Dumb or Irrational Things

2010-02-21T23:15:00.000+02:00

10 More Brilliant Social Psychology Studies: Why Smart People Do Dumb or Irrational Things

Why We do Dumb or Irrational Things: 10 Brilliant Social Psychology Studies

2010-02-21T22:57:00.000+02:00

Why We do Dumb or Irrational Things: 10 Brilliant Social Psychology Studies

2010-02-21T22:56:00.000+02:00

I came across this very nice summary about the 10 most interesting and provokative social psychology experiments. Overall, a great blog:
http://www.spring.org.uk/2007/11/10-piercing-insights-into-human-nature.php

2010-02-02T22:00:00.000+02:00

It seems the topic of self-empowerment has a strong grip on my mind right now. Here is a nice excerpt from my scratch books from 2 years ago:

The worst of all social illusions, created to sustain basic human civilization, is the myth of the other half. Of the lost soul mate. Of the white knight, who will eventually find and rescue you. Of the happily ever after. Because the happily ever after is actually where the story begins, and not where it ends. And that, that is the greatest secret of civilization, the building block of compliance it slowly encapsulates you in.

However, it took me 27 years to realize it. And I want to share all that secret knowledge with you so that you don’t waste the precious time you are given in looking for someone right. Better, spend that time looking for yourself!
It all began when I was 2 years of age. With an innocent book of fairytales. With an innocent mention of the princess, who was beautiful, and sweet, and good hearted, and merry spirited, loving, caring, and of course, unhappy. Because she hadn’t been found yet. By the prince. Who was spending his time doing a million adventurous and mind-blowingly fun things, like riding horses, fighting dragons, enchanting damsels, traveling the world, meeting great people and experiencing life. In the end, when the prince had had it all, and was tired and wounded, and wanted to rest by a warm fire, he decided to settle with the beautiful princes. Who by all means was very happy to be chosen, and taken away from her boring everyday-the-same life.

And, wow, that sounded so easy. You just wait, and perfect your singing, and sewing, and here comes a great man, intelligent, brave, experienced, sensitive, caring, and he wants YOU, and will love you forever. And he finds you not just in one, but in one hundred fairytales. And then he starts finding you in some great works of art as well, only he changes names from time to time, and has more modern occupations. He becomes Mr. Darcy, Jack Dawson, Superman, but the fact is – you always recognize him. As that gorgeous man who is supposed to be there, somewhere, waiting for you. And you are indoctrinated so strong in believing he exists, that no amount of common sense is able to change that. Not at least in you teens, or in your twenties, and sometimes even after that… And by then, it is already too late. By then you have become cynical, chronically broken-hearted, and sick(from)love.

2010-02-02T21:49:00.000+02:00

And on the other hand, here is a nice thought, taken down from a favorite movie:
Christopher McCandless: ...you are wrong if you think that the joy of life comes principally from the joy of human relationships. Into the Wild

Does the joy of life come principally from the human relationships? Or is it in anything we can experience, in us? When you can't change reality or the people in it, you should definitely change yourself, and the way you experience reality and people. Basically, you can only work on yourself, and it is a myth that you can change anyone else to fit into your views. The greatest harm you can do to people is to take them for what you think they are; and to not see them as who they really are.

I.e. first love. For me, it was a person whom I didn't actually know. I met him 2-3 times on a dark staircase, and he told me I was beautiful. Fulstop. I did not know what he laughed at, aspired to, dreamed of. But I was deeply, passionately in love, as anyone 13 years old can be. I did not need to glimpse him for month, because my imagination was filling into the actual need for a real human presence by creating thousands of make-believe stories of how we meet, speak, kiss, and love each other.

But that person was just a shell I filled with meaning. I imagined his taste, his gestures, his interests... I was creating an image of my perfect man. But though of the same name, that imaginary creature was not the actual living man who spoke to me in the dark staircase. The huge love, swllen to some grotesque extensions, was entirely imaginary. Yet, to me it was so real.

When we eventually met in real life, I was so disappointed. He was not romantic, not so beautiful, had a boring job, and unexciting hobbies. He told me he loved me in real, but I could not feel any spark. He wrote me a poem, but it did not touch me. Yet, how was he guilty in any way... He was not. I could not blame it on him that I did not love him back. Although it was not easy to break up with the love of my life, I had to learn to love a real man. Stop imagining, listen and look, and learn to see who is that person opposite you.

I think that is one of the most important lessons in life. Not to extrapolate our wishful thinking on the external wolrd, and feel disappointed when reality does not meet imagination. Change yourself, and look the truth in the eyes.

The, the joy of life will not depend on any relationships, it will be a function only of your internal experience and your ability to perceive reality and enjoy it.

2010-02-02T14:26:00.004+02:00

Have you ever been singled out and rejected? This is one of the most traumatic psychological experiences an individual can experience, no matter whether it concerns social, or romantic, or any other type of rejection.

Because of the social nature of humans, we tend to have an intrinsic, basic need of belonging – to a society, group, family, friendship or a relationship. Actually, some psychologists even suggest that belonging is one of the fundamental motivators for human behavior. Dr. Abraham Maslow 's article "A Theory of Human Motivation " places the feeling of belonging in advance of such human motivators as recognition, status, self respect, and the quest for truth, justice and wisdom. Rejection often results into an inability to reach self-actualization, exactly because it hurts the feeling of self-esteem and leads to feelings of insecurity and fear of future rejection. Depending on the type of society, social needs may come even before needs for security and safety.

However, simple contact or social interactions with others are not enough to fulfill the need of belonging. It is mostly fed by meaningful, caring interpersonal relationships. Belonging is an integral part of the self-concept of a person, together with the physical self, character and existential awareness of the human being. Any form of rejection has psychological implications, most often resulting in loneliness, low self-esteem, aggression, and depression; and the so-called rejection sensitivity, a term defined by Karen Horney, and associated with neuroticism.

Based on all of these facts, the only way to deal with the consequences of rejection is to analyze the degree to which you can create your own happiness, and improve it. Reach out and practice, practice, practice. Your ability to interact, your ability to form meaningful friendships, your ability to express yourself, create and empower, your influence on others, your high self-esteem. The worst is to believe “you deserve it,” and internalize that pain. Most of the time, rejection is a symptom of a problem experienced by the “rejector” and not by the “rejectee”. So, don’t pity yourself. Become a stronger person, and deal with it.

I have recently come to realize the extent to which I am being affected, following a most unexpected rejection by a very close friend. Without realizing it, I have tried to cope with it by a variety of methods I use to cope with any signs of bad humor – going out, meeting people, boosting my hobbies, being and feeling prettier. Though a step in the right direction, the most healing approach would be not to shy from forming deep and intimate connections with other people, in fear of being rejected again, but to begin to seek new ones pro-actively. There is no better way to treat a traumatic experience, than head-on throwing yourself at the risk to repeatedly experience it, and as a result, overcome it.

2010-01-31T21:23:00.001+02:00

One day, Meri called and proposed to buy tickets for a theatre premiere - Apocalipse comes at 6 pm.; I said YES, and at the very entrance of the hall I was somewhat disappointed when I read on the poster the play is written by a Bulgarian author,. I often find the modern Bulgarian writers too pompous and fake. And I was most pleasatly surprised, not by the actors or their performances; but by the strenght of the text; the qualify of the delicate, powerful phragments, intelligent monologue, undialogical dialogue, and an overall very nice, very concentrated lexical experience of meeting a beutifully written, thought-provoking, humorous, deep and well-balanced text.
However, it is not the play in its entireness that I took back home, because its phragmented nature did not leave a thorough impression of a whole. It was bit and pieces, thoughts and lightnings, provoked by the meaningful text. One of the characters confessed: "As a child, I was deeply aware that there was us, and there was them. We were the good guys, and they were the bad guys. And I was so relieved, so proud, so grateful, that I happened to be born on the side of the good ones." A rough quote, inspired by a childhooh to the east of the Iron curtain, which mentally clicked to many of the people in the audience. We all loughed. Because we recognized ourselves in these words.
Come to think of it, is not funny. The deep roots of hatred, of conflict, of despair and human unhappiness come from a division of the world into us and them, me and the rest of the world. It is so much easier to have an enemy to blame and judge, than to take full responsibility of our own reality.
If there is only "I", without any "they", then the I-self should be blamed for its overweight body, bad habbits of procrastination, boring job, unloved lover, lost dreams of being a famous Holliwood actor, cheap appartment with a bad view, and all those little, tiny, smelly misfortunes which pile up into a miserable life of lost opportunities. It is essentially flourishing from a psychologically comfortable notion that there should always be someone else to blame for all of it.
It is soooooo much more dificult to perceive ourselves in unity with the world, as happy little atoms of a whole, whose own power to create miracles drives the world ahead, and makes life a more livable experience.
We are losing our battles before starting them, because we are not aware that the greatest enemy we have is ourselves. The fact that we have disowned the control over our lives, and given it over to the anonimous "they", "them", "it", which we blame for every chance that we did not take, or we did not even consider taking. Fear makes us choose comfort over excitement. And converts us into lonely enemies of our beautiful dreams and our intrinsic right to the pursuit of happiness :)

2009-12-07T22:32:00.002+02:00

On our way back home from Harmanli, we passed through a most amazing place, the mosque-church in Uzundjovo. It is one of the oldest Buglarian churches, and has a really intense and interesting history. It really pays off to visit this inspiring place, and to listen to its keepers' devoped story.

The original church was build in 1500, then destroyed, and in 1593 a mosque was built upon the remaining walls. In 1906, it is again turned into an orthodox church. Its unique architechture and interior hold numerous symbolic meanings, revealed to the curious visitor by the incredible Bay Dencho, a devoter keper of the temple, who has spent numerous hours in decipehring the "hidden code" imprinted in the iconostasis, the wall decorations and the exterior of the church.

His melodious voice will tell you an amazing story about the temple's architect and constructor, a semi-legendary master Lalyo (tulip), who has imprinted a number of tulips in his construction, leaving a vast deal of messages to his successors for contemplation and deciphering. The master was a turk of Bulgarian origin, and the mosque he build was not turned to Mecca, but followed the Cristian canon, and the entrance was directed to south-east.

Bay Dencho, a devote believer, who is not however a religious fanatic, will share his interpretation of the temple's messages - a story of religious tolerance and inclusion, a deep understanding of the singularity of god within all world religions, and a somewhat mystic totally unorthodox belief about the capacity of the human soul to reincarnate, and to expand and include clashing view and beliefs in its on-going worldly struggle for perfection. It is really amazing to listen to this man, who is definitely deeply religious, and still has a unique ability to internalize his beliefs, and make them deeply practical, relevant and valuable for his own existence. I only wish I can claim the same degree of ownership over a clear, organized and internalized value-code and moral system to guide me and determine who I am in life.

The church features a number of first-time cultural treasures - like the first glagolic prayer in an iconostasis. At present, this is the biggest village-church in Bulgaria, and you should definitely go and see it!!!

2009-11-30T22:51:00.002+02:00

Closely connected to the idea of historical provincialism is yet another interesting concept, crafted by American sociologist C. Wright Mills. He wrote a book titled "The Sociological imagination," in which he closely sdudies the process of linking one's individual experience to historical change and institutional contradiction.
Here is a beautiful quote from his book: "Seldom aware of the intricate connection between the patterns of their own lives and the course of world history, ordinary men do not usually know what this connection means for the kinds of men they are becoming and for the kinds of history-making in which they might take part. They do not possess the quality of mind essential to grasp the interplay of man and society, of biography and history, of self and world. They cannot cope with their personal troubles in such ways as to control the structural transformations that usually lie behind them."
One example Mills gives, is of an unemployed man who is so focused on his personal tragedy, and even guilt at being incapable of finding a job, that seldom realizes the economic factors that have led to his present condition. A woman, raising her children alone during a state of war, will not be able to look beyond the hardship of her day-to-day struggles for survival.
Developing a "sociological imagination" will enable the individual to develop an ability to participate in social life and even create social change, by analyzing his individual condition within a broader perspective of historical or social reality. However, this is not an easy task. It requires "a quality of mind" which is trained and skilled at filtering loads of information in a contemporary society, and formulating meaningful connections between the historical reality and the individual experience.
This sense of possession and ownership on the personal within a historical context acts in both directions: on one side, it will eliminate the feeling of being trapped by an alienating social reality (a reality thight might be in contrast with the moral values or sensitivity of the individual); and on the other hand, it will equip the individual with an enpowering awareness of his own ability to participate, influence and create the present state of social reality.
The intersection of biography and history within a society creates a strong sense of self-consciousness, allowing the individual to link personal troubles to social issues, and not only understand them better, but by finding individual solutions, to also find answers to broader social issues. A truly empowering perspective, linking self to society and history in an inseparable wholistic experience of reality...

2009-11-30T20:37:00.001+02:00

While reading a book by Polish journalist Ryszard Kapuscinski, I came upon a very intriguing concept, called "historical provincialism" or "chronological snobbery".
It is hard to find many studies on the topic, however, Christopher Dawson in his book "The Crisis of Western Education," writes the following: "Until a man acquires some knowledge of another culture, he cannot be said to be educated, since his outlook is so conditioned by his own social environment that he does not recognize its limitations... he almost inevitably tends to accept the standards and values of his own society as absolute." Further on he indicated the importance of "widening the intellectual horizon by initiation into a different world of cultre," and/or, respectively, a different historical time.
This is indeed a very insightful study of the need to educate young people about history in a way which will help them build a solid understanding of evolution and historical change, which has led to their present historical and social reality. The opposition of the core, or the focus on present and reality, isolated from the periphery, or the past, which has "created' the present reality, is what characterizes historical provincialism. In other words, the unawareness of the historical change or evolution which has influenced our present state of existence.
In this sense, studying history as a mere succession of facts and dates, does not contribute to taking a person out of his provincial state of mind. What matters is creating the ability to reason on the correlations between these facts and their power to influence the present. Studying history is shifted away from the factology, more into a study of the history of ideas, knowledge and evolution.
Defining this new type of provincialism, automatically alters the understanding of what cosmopolitanism is; this is no longer a "space" category, but already a "time" category as well. Studying a different culture, is linked to studing a different period of time, and broadening our horizons on a multidementional grid. Caring for foreing ideas, becomes linked with caring for past ones.
Historical localism and illiberality is probably not as dangerous as traditional provincialism, because it is much more difficult to link it to issues such as racism, intolerance and nationalism. Historical provincialism seems like a more intellectual limitation. In an interview, titled "Curing Provincialism, Why We Educate the Way We Do", Jaques Barzun says, "the student who reads history will unconsciously develop what is the highest value of history: judgement in world affairs. This is a permanent good, not because history repeats... but because the 'tendency of things' shows an amazing uniformity within any given civilization. The great historian, Jacob Burckhardt, said of historical knowledge, it is not 'to make us more clever the next time, but wiser for all time'."
Curing our historical provincialism, will give us not only knowledge, but wisdom as well. What could be a better conclusion on the topic :)

2009-11-01T21:06:00.000+02:00

How does the world look like without our beloved diado in it? How can you ever overcome the guilty feeling that you have not made enough, showed enough that you care, or called or visited enough, when you are told for sure how he has asked for you to the last day?

My grandpa left this world on Friday. On his last day, he made his customary 1,5-hour walk, both in the morning and in the afternoon; he went to dinner, asking for a glass of this year's not-even-fully-fermented red wine; at 10 p.m. he called granny for a glass of compot, and asked for a chokolate sweet. Then, at around 2 a.m. went to the bathroom, completed his toilet, and when it took too long for him to come back, grandma called my uncle. He found him in the bathroom, and diado told him "I have no strength to go back to bed". He complained about feeling some heaviness in the stomach, cold perspiration covered him, while uncle almost carried him to bed. He tried to measure his blood pressure, and could not hear the pulse. Then he called for the ambulance. Uncle says he heard him whisper "Son, I'm leaving now". Uncle ran downstairs to wait for the albulance. Grandpa's head fell to one side, and he was gone... In less than 10 minutes. His last companion was granny, the woman he had spent 62 years together, and courted for 5 years before that.

He looked so calm, as if fallen asleep. He left this world without pain, without a single grain of pain... Without suffering or regrets. Thinking about us, his grandchildren. Only his right eye was slightly open, and it fully closed after the last of his grandchildren lay flowers at his deathbed...

On the day of the funeral, after 24 hours of rain, the sun broke the clouded veil exactly at 11 in the morning. The hour of diado's usual morning walk. The sun accompanied him during his last walk on this earth.

The day before he died, he was listening to the weather forecast. The news anchor was explaing that the winter is coming, and permanent negative tempreratures are settling in. Diado shared with granny "How will I ever live without my daily walks. I can't bear the thought of being tied to bed all winter". So he went, on the first rainy day of autumn, as if afraid of having to stay home, hidden from the cold. The only thought that terrified him was of falling sick in bed, and being a buden to his family. He told us, that he would live until he walked. So he walked, until 10 minutes before he left us forever.
The really amazing thing was, that for two days, tens of his friends, relatives and neighbors were coming to say goodbay to diado, and all of them came smiling, and telling funny stories about him. He had the most amazing sense of humor, and was the most positive person we all knew. Even gathered around his dead body, we would remember stories, and burst into laughter, and for sheer seconds, it would look as if he was also smiling, and sharing these moments with us.
For him, the greatest joy in the world was when the whole family gathered together at holidays. So I am pretty sure, he was so happy to have us all there, loughing, tasting his new wine, remembering all the unforgettable moments together. Aven after that, he succeeded in bringing us together, and making us laugh... with him.

I hope that while his soul is still with us, he will come to me at night, and listen to me when I whisper to him that I lvoe him, that I miss him, that he has given me so much, and that all my life I have been immensely proud of him. I have his letter in my name. So he will stay with me forever.

Rest in peace, dear, diado. We all love you so much!!!

2009-10-18T22:05:00.000+03:00

It's been an especially gray day today, cold, rainy and cheerless; so I tried to protect my downsized spirits by cozing in a comfortable big shaw, drinking a bottle of red wine, and, of course, watching a romance. I have a theory about romantic love, proven to a certain extend by my own experiences.
I have noticed that we tend to experience a big crash-boom-bang when we are going through a hard period of our own lives. Whenever I an extended period of crashed self-confidence, unsatisfactory social life, and work-related routineness, any unexpected, out-of-the-box meeting with any funny, above-mediocre, ok-looking guy send flutters down my stomach. I don't fall head over heel with him, of course, but I kind of expect him to fall for me, and come to my rescue... and introduce me to a piece of magic in an overall unmagical world.
So imagine that he does, and imagine that he is even half as gorgeous as you pre-imagined him to be, and you also begin to feel something for him - and there it is, the perfect formula, the perfect romance. Most of its beauty happens in your own head, most of the time, it is your own imaginaiton filling in the gaps...
Unfortunately, this kind of love is flawed at it very heart, because it stems from your weaknesses. From your mutual desire to live out a fairytale, in which someone devoted, and caring, comes to your rescue, and changes the world for you... And then you forget, that it is you who should change the world, and bring about the incremental differences that would make you a happier and more accomplished person. No one else should do it for you, no one else should place the plate with the ready dish on your table...
So, differently from a great romance, a great love will come to you not when you are down, and feeling bad about your life, and will come when you are flying out high, egoistically creating a world of your fashion, building and doing, and making, and loving yourself above anything else. Only then will you recognize love as what it is. The scary urge to compromise your fears and sterotypes, in order to become a little more perfect for someone else. No saviors, no tears, no ending your life for him... just the pure joy of becoming a better person and doing it together with someone else.

2009-08-29T01:04:00.000+03:00

I tend to become obsessively interested by movies on a certain topic. After my Indian period, followed by portrayals of interracial relationships, immigration, and contemporary religious societies, I am now focused on gay interest films. If you are ever interested by the topic, I can recommend my top selection:

- Brokeback Mountain - it's haunting, literally, narrates all the drama of being a homosexual in an alienated society; to the point of ruining your entire life; and so much more...

- Shelter - the absolute opposite of BB - an absolute celebration of being who you are

- Milk

- Billy Elliot

- Latter Days

These movies remind me how amazingly dirrefent people are; but the love we feel for each other is universal. It is never whom we love, but always how we love them that matters.
I actually think that we live in a time which is so fluid and flexible; it is easier to be curious and to explore your differences in ways which have never been acceptable before. If I want to get turned on, I would look at a woman's picture, rather than a man's. How much lesbian does apreciation of the beautiful curvy shapes of a woman make me? If I kiss a girl, how much is it a celebration of the intimacy of our friendship, and how much is it a desire for something more? The thing is, you can do it, and then explore your experience; and not think about it, and never do it. That's the time we live in, and what's good about it.

Getting started

2009-08-28T22:41:00.000+03:00

A blank page is too demanding, because you feel a need to say something really clever, funny and meaningful to make your mark. A blank page spreads in front of you in all its frightening purity, and the black letters are all too visible when they are all too few.
With a couple of friends we travelled to experience the U2 concert in Zagreb a few weeks ago. They all had seated tickets, and I was the only one with a stading ticket at the field. Everyone was all too woried about me going all alone in the crowd, they tried to hook me up with some other friends, so that I had a company. I had to be really sneaky to escape all this concern. Because I really wanted to do this by myself, and experience my most favorite band ever by being a single atom in a huge crowd of exulted fans.
It felt incredible to feel surrounded by the heat of hundreds of excited bodies, just inches from my own, to hear the cries and singing of a thousand voices in my ears, and yes to have a totally singular experience within the deafening crowd. It was a totally extatic feeling, yet the carnival experience did not consume me entirelly, and all the time I could feel exactly where my own exultation began, culminated and ended.
Mintes after the concert died, I felt almost drunk with elation. In a relly funny state, in which you kind of expect that something trully remarkable should happen to you to make this moment genuinely memorable. Every person I met in that moment, every word I said, every laugh I enjoyed still stick in my memory, and I revisit them, as an inseparable part of the concert itself.
Sharing what I just experienced with total strangers around me made it so much more special. I was actually happy that there was not a single friend with me at that moment, because I could enjoy a totally different vision of myself, and experiment with who I was, right there, right then.
This incredible music totally transformed me in 2 incredible hours. All my friends thought I was crazy.
So, was my going alone to a concert the emanation of solitude and alienation; or was it a really special moment of idependence?