Brain Traps

SHREWS, MEMORY, EMOTION, AND MOTIVATION

About 150 million years ago (the period of diurnal dinosaurs – for the nerds: Triassic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous), the next major evolutionary step made ​​it possible for small, complexly designed organisms to use the cool of the night as a safe biological niche. The development of the first primitive mammals (anthropological findings have shown that they were visually comparable to a modern day shrew) was spurred by the development of a metabolism that was no longer dependent on sunlight for warmth. A subsequent phenomenon in mammalian development is that mass reproduction became impossible for various reasons, but most notably due to the highly complex metabolism needed to maintain a core body temperature. It therefore became necessary to reduce the reproduction rate to around ten to twenty offspring per litter.

The behavioral frog brain program, which ensured –among other things – that females forgot everything two minutes after spawning, and which had been successfully in effect for more than one hundred million years, no longer served as a viable survival program for the first mammals. Why not? Because the probability that twenty out of twenty offspring would survive purely by chance was next to nil. We are the descendants of those species that had to develop a completely new behavioral program in order to escape the game of chance and avoid being eaten.

Today, the part of the hardware and software that primitive mammals developed through the process of evolutionary selection is referred to as the limbic system. It is generally regarded as the seat of our emotions. It seems that for the first mammals, which had to organize themselves in small herds in order to protect themselves against potential enemies, being able to assess and judge their own momentary emotional state was a fundamental advantage. If I am not able to anticipate or detect the possibility of trouble or danger lurking ahead, then I won’t be able to avoid or prepare for it, which would lead to problems both privately and professionally. I am sure you know what I mean. This ability made it possible to control the aggressive instinct, which otherwise would have made close cohabitation impossible. Being able to sense, and thus predict, one’s own and other’s behavior, along with the associated physical responses, was a key success factor in human social development. To illustrate this, it would be advantageous to consider the various behavioral patterns with which a shrew mother needed to be “programmed” so that she could successfully care for her offspring until they were able to fend for themselves. But first, we need to understand the logic behind the shrew programming. Brace yourself – we’re about to enter some emotional territory!

An evolutionary quantum leap in social behavior was needed to ensure the viable coexistence among members of the same species. This gave way to the development of memory. Without memory and the complex learning associated with it, we simply would not have been able to remember who our enemy was and who our friend was, who would be willing to stand up for us, and who might take advantage of us or try to hurt us. Brawn over brains no longer held true, because it was no longer the physically strongest who prevailed. Instead, it was the socially strongest and most skillful who, by winning the attention and respect of the others, earned a favored position and the privileges that go with it.

It’s worth taking a closer look at the basic logic of our hard drive and the installed file manager application. All information that is not filtered out by the system’s primary filters, the senses, is then stored in the memory structure. The interesting aspect of the limbic system’s file manager application is that our shrew brain is not able to create a “neutral” or emotionless folder. All newly created folders must be colored by a specific emotion. Figuratively speaking, we can look at it like this: Let’s say that dark green represents highly emotional and positive experiences, while dark red, at the other end of the color scale, represents traumatic, negative experiences. In between, there are all the other hues that are used for less highly charged emotional experiences. Consequently, the logic of this emotional grading system allows memories of specific events to determine if we choose to fear something or to look forward to it, if we are motivated or unmotivated by something. This put an end to complete emotional detachment. The color of the folder is determined by the emotion that is created through the process of opening it (i.e. remembering the event). At a later stage in the book, we will more closely examine how the color tone of the folder being opened can be influenced by the momentary emotional state one is in when remembering the experience. If we exclude traumatic experiences, we see that our memories display a great deal of plasticity.

Based upon this memory capacity, we can now understand that the social behavior of the first shrews was shaped by three specific points (three new system programs), which can be regarded as an updated Version 1.0 of the still active frog brain.

Bonding

This program activates (among other things) the mother-child relationship and ensures that, on a long-term basis, energy is exclusively invested in direct descendants and relatives. The development of the bonding program also enabled a very important feature. It made it possible for us to be able to distinguish who our friend is, who our foe is, and who would be willing to fight on our side in case of emergency. Today we know that through mirror neurons in the brain, we can not only empathize with the behavior of others, but we can even assume their physical reactions associated with anxiety, aggression, or pleasure. If my friend doesn’t feel well, then I might start to feel physically ill as well. Just like herd animals, we synchronize our behavior and physical reactions with our friends, but not with our enemies. The activation of this program has led to the development of relationships in varying intensities to other members of the same species. Word-picture branding and advertising also work using this same principle. These marketing ploys convey an image that we want to identify with, and they make use of our simple desire and expectation to gain a personal advantage in the future. Tight bonds and relationships code our brains through the production of the hormone oxytocin in varying strengths. We produce more when we see a friend and less when speaking with a disliked colleague. Ever since this correlation was set in place, we have become socially dependent, as it were, on the love, admiration, and acceptance of others. Potentially, we can even become sick if our oxytocin production sinks too low.

Security

The development of the “hard drive” has enabled us to remember experiences – the more emotional an experience, the stronger the memory. The contents of the red folder in the file manager application, which represent memories of fearful events, are always present in our shrew brains and are easily retrievable. This seems logical, because it’s all about survival.

Let’s say, for example, that a shrew mother has experienced a dangerous situation in which, while foraging for food in a forest clearing, she was just barely able to avoid being caught and eaten by a lynx. The whole scene, everything from the scents to the exact location of the event, is filed in a folder marked in red and archived in her brain. The consequence is that, in the future, if the shrew mother is confronted with a stored memory that is similar to that situation, she will get scared and her flight reflex will be activated. If she gets anywhere near that specific forest glade, her memory will trigger a sudden change in behavior.

We have descended from mammals that were able to find a way to pass this information on to their offspring and to other members of the herd. The highly interesting thing about this is that although the mother is not able to pass the information on directly due to limitations in her communication, a form of indirect communication takes place through her voice, facial expressions, and gestures. If all other shrews observe the shrew mother regularly avoiding this particular forest clearing but still entering other clearings quite calmly, then they understand this to be a rule. And without needing to know exactly why, an initial few very closely related members will imitate her behavior, then many more, until finally all members of the herd will completely avoid the glade in the future. We could call this form of information dissemination “Communication 1.0”, in which not the sender but rather the inner compulsion to receive is in the forefront. Originating from this development, we have acquired the impulse to observe the behavior of others and attempt to derive statistically relevant patterns. We try to make our complex and seemingly chaotic world a bit more manageable by identifying general rules to make it more predictable.

This need for security compels us to observe and see if we can detect any conspicuous, unpredictable (and thus unsettling) behavior patterns. When we detect something unusual, we immediately become more attentive. We pay closer attention to detail in order to try to identify set principles. Only after experiencing a certain degree of regularity in a recurring event are we able to begin to develop a sense of trust in a fixed principle. Once we are sure that we have identified the rules, we then begin to adapt our own behavior accordingly. As a result, we start to copy the behavior patterns of important reference persons.

In order for us to start to believe in something as a universal rule, we have to be able to observe relationships at least seven times. This phenomenon is better known as the Monte Carlo syndrome. Our inner statistic and forecast program is most apparent in a casino. If we were to find ourselves at a roulette table and the color black were to come up seven times in a row, then most of us would tend to believe that the probability of the color red coming up on the eighth roll would be quite high. Mathematically, we would be completely wrong. However, after seeing the ball land on black seven times in a row, we would still believe that red would be rolled next because we have been optimized to predict probabilities based on short observational periods. We believe that it is extremely unlikely that the roulette wheel would land on the same color eight times or more in a row within this short period of observation. In our minds, there is a fifty percent chance that one color or the other will come up. If the same color is rolled several times in a row, then our perceived expectation of the likelihood that the complementary color will be rolled rises with each further roll of the original color. Obviously, our brain has not been designed for the roulette table, whether in Monte Carlo or Las Vegas.

My hypothesis as to why we begin to interpret reoccurrence illogically after the seventh time is that our perception was developed on naturally observable regularities that occurred within a short life span and developed to suit the typical herd size. We will deal with the latter point later when we come back to the topic of our distractibility and declining attention span. For now, it will suffice to say that we are extremely susceptible to distraction, especially in offices with about seven employees. In groups of this size we still (need to) perceive conversations separate from each other.

In summary, this means that our brain has been optimized to predict incidents. It is constantly forming hypotheses. The more closely our hypothesis matches the actual perceived event, the more secure we feel. On the one hand, our hypotheses and perceptions are dependent on how we experienced the world yesterday and, on the other hand, on what our fellow man did and how he did it. We are emotionally connected with others and, in fact, our very own perception is dependent on them.

Curiosity

When both the frog programs (eating and sexual drive) and the shrew programs (bonding and security) are satisfied, we feel good. Biologically speaking, feeling good activates our energy saving program which prevents us from investing energy unless absolutely necessary. However, it seems that we have descended from those primitive mammals which, without any apparent external reason, started to invest energy to explore the world in search of new and interesting things. Hence, program number three was born: the curiosity instinct, which in this context means an internal drive to take risks.

It is by no means perfectly natural that we should become restless once all our primary needs have been met. Having one or more curious members in a herd obviously must have proved to be a significant biological advantage. The rest of the herd had the opportunity to observe which new behavior was worth implementing and which one was not. This explains the viewer fascination behind the countless amateur action movies on YouTube, through which we can easily discern which activities we will never personally try to do. (Well, at least most us can.) Genetic diversity in a group has always paid off. And that’s why today we find people with high or low blood pressure, with a faster or slower metabolism, with more or less muscle mass, people who are more stress resistant and others who are more sensitive, employees who are obsessed with detail and others who are more error prone.

For example, our ancestors who were genetically prone to hypertension were probably the ones who were able to react more quickly during a surprise attack, and were then able to warn all the others, thereby increasing everyone’s chances of survival. Now, before the high blood pressure patients start jumping for joy, allow me to remind you that this becomes a serious health issue when you throw a chronic lack of exercise and a poor diet into the mix. The fact is that high blood pressure has only been regarded as a health risk since people have started living longer lives. There are two ways to avoid the adverse effects of high blood pressure: Either you can move more and improve your diet, or you can reduce your life span. The latter is probably not a prudent option for most people.

I find it extremely important to clarify the interdependency of and correlation between curiosity, bonding, and security. Therefore, I propose the following formula in order to better understand our shrew brain:

Bonding + Curiosity = Security

Logically, this means that if neither bonding nor security is present to a certain degree, then the result will be a low level of curiosity and a lack of inner willingness to invest energy. From a biological point of view, it would be too risky to try out new, unknown patterns of behavior during times of insecurity. That is why we revert to established behavioral patterns that have proven to work well during these phases. Conversely, too much security can be detrimental in the long term because, as explained earlier in the section on the drive for security, the shrew brain can only form certain hypotheses by taking risks and learning about the world. Similar to the mechanics in a closed loop control system, too much security will activate the curiosity drive. Boredom creates restlessness, and we begin to look for something new to try out. We take risks and then become insecure, which in turn inhibits our curiosity to a certain degree.

When we apply this logic to the professional world, we can see why executives are well advised to invest time and effort into fostering bonding and security in the workplace wherever and whenever innovation and adaptation are required. It is also important for managers to understand that it is counterproductive to simply give in to the natural impulse to rationally explain what needs to be done.

The reason employees are not open to change and often react by saying “I’ve been doing it like this for the past fifteen years because this is the best way to do it”, can often be traced back to a loss of security and bonding and not to a lack of explanation or reasoning on the part of the executives. Creativity cannot be developed under pressure. In chapter five, we will delve deeper into the subject of brain-compatible employee management.

By the way, the same concept of the interconnectivity between security, bonding, curiosity, and risk-taking also applies to our educational system. The fact is, a coach or a teacher cannot inspire others – be they children or adults – to think in new ways or to try out new things, if they do not first create a positive relationship. A bad relationship (lack of bonding) in combination with a lack of awareness of the benefits of the new thought or behavior (Why do I need this?) is the perfect recipe for disaster. With that combination, any new knowledge is stored in an area of the brain that does not play a role in solving new problems and, therefore, this stored knowledge cannot be used for active problem solving. It was simply learned by rote for the specific context, so that practical details could be accessed, for example the page number on which you can find the information.

Now I’d like to illustrate another essential characteristic of our shrew brain through two fictional scenarios set in the Stone Age. Each scenario begins with the alpha male of the group, who gathers the others together to organize a mammoth hunt.

Scenario 1: Three males, George and his buddies Ronald and Donald, volunteer for the hunt. They head out and return after one week, having failed – no mammoth, and even worse, Ronald had been killed. The pit for trapping the mammoth had not been dug deep enough and none of the three hunters had thought about placing wooden spears in the pit to be able to kill the mammoth once they caught it. Ronald had been particularly unlucky and did not survive the hunting trip at all – he was attacked and killed by a saber tooth tiger. All in all, a failed project.

Scenario 2: George, Ronald, and Donald volunteer for the hunt, head out, and come back together safe and sound after five hours, having succeeded in bringing back a dead mammoth. On this day, they happened to have been very lucky. A young stricken mammoth calf was found lying behind a rock just a few kilometers away from their camp. The animal was quickly killed and transported back to the group. It was a highly successfully completed project and also a quick and easy win that essentially fell into their laps.

In Scenario 1, the mood was at a record low after the men returned without success, similar to the mood after any failed project which involves bitter collateral loss. The opposite holds true in Scenario 2. The three hunters were celebrated as heroes upon their return, got to eat first (after the boss, of course), and got the coolest females. Life was good for all involved.

If the boss in Scenario 1 were to again ask the group for volunteers to hunt for food and secure the survival of the group, the two survivors would most probably not volunteer again. The bad memories of the dramatic experience would trigger an avoidance strategy because that is exactly what their anxiety and reward centers had learned. Both of them had created a “red folder” in their minds, the contents of which correspond to the fearful memory, and in which all the bad images and emotions of the unsuccessful hunting trip were saved. The consequence of this learning experience is clear for each one of them: Avoid all mammoth hunts in the future. As you see, memory obviously does not only have benefits for the group, because failure results in personal consequences.

Which scenario do you think led to the practice of placing spears into pitfalls, and the realization that it makes sense to dare to try again? You guessed it, Scenario 1. Biologically speaking, energy was only initially invested in habits which secured genetic and direct individual success. That had to change with the appearance of social groups. A behavioral logic that placed the collective benefits above the increased individual risks brought enormous advantages because common goals could be more sustainably pursued. Any occurrence of individual failure leading to avoidance of future energy investment (de-motivation) needed to be prevented, a willingness for individuals to take new risks in spite of failure needed to be encouraged.

The problem was elegantly solved on a biological level by the selection of two new features that mutually support each other in our brain. A study conducted on German soldiers in Afghanistan displays the first mechanism most impressively. Our hard disk is dynamic, and the study showed that after a few months of active war duty, it actually begins to shrink. During periods of chronic stress, we no longer store memories efficiently, which has the advantage that we don’t have to remember yesterday’s drama in detail the next day. We also know that this process, with the exception of traumatic experiences, is fortunately reversible. Incidentally, the same applies to women after childbirth, and in general to people who find themselves in very stressful work phases, which is not at all surprising now that we know about this mechanism.

The second mechanism or feature is the ability to experience reward through motivation. We are all familiar with the positive emotional payoff associated with well-invested energy, as well as with the disappointment and negative emotional penalty associated poorly invested energy. In order to help us decide whether it makes sense to continue exerting ourselves towards pursuing a given goal, the evolutionary processes have selected an ingenious mechanism that is steered by the production of the hormone dopamine. The more dopamine we produce, the more optimistic, euphoric, and motivated we feel; and the readier we are to reinvest our energy in the same or similar activities and behaviors in the future. It’s almost as if we were being persuaded from within to exert ourselves again and to risk the consequences of possible failure. Dopamine has both a behavior-motivating and a success-signaling function, and is always produced in high doses when we narrowly fail or are just short of finding a solution to a problem, as observed in Scenario 1. It seems that we are programmed to fail narrowly and regularly. However, we are not programmed for permanent failure, nor are we programmed for permanent success. Permanent failure results in resignation caused by learned helplessness, and permanent success results in arrogance and laziness, which in turn inhibit learning and development. After all, if I am always successful, there is no need for improvement. All progress necessary for survival in constantly changing environmental conditions would remain undeveloped. Quite obviously, we have descended from individuals who were able to remain motivated in spite of failure over and over again throughout the course of their lives.

The logic of the shrew reward system is quite simple and, well, shrewd. For millions of years, all mammals have been rewarded with a satisfying sense of pleasure through the mere act of choosing to invest energy in a perceived success. This also happens automatically when you are able to promptly see what you have just accomplished through your own effort. The concrete completion of the project is actually less important than the visible progress in the expected direction.

This means that our inner shrew needs to have a precise idea of the possible development, the amount of effort required and the expected outcome of a desired goal before deciding whether to pursue it. It is able to do this based upon its subjective experiences, in other words, the range of its memory folders. Later on, we will see that there are other conditions that influence our belief in success, that have developed over time throughout evolution, up to and including today’s modern man. These include rational understanding (sense), the opportunity to participate in team effort (participation), and group recognition through ritualized conduct and signals (praise and attention from higher ranks, advancement opportunities for better rank and privileges, respect from peers or subordinates, and the like).

For millions of years, exertion has been the basic prerequisite for reward, and thus for pleasurable sensation. Biologically that makes sense, because the species was only able to ensure its survival through targeted effort. We can see that performance, risk-taking, and the visible and noticeable effects of targeted energy investments are a prerequisite for the body's production of euphoric drugs.

The achievements of industrialization – wealth and consumption – have thrown a wrench in this process: The conditions of our modern life have made exertion no longer absolutely necessary for the production of dopamine. We can satisfy our expectation of success quickly and easily, we can experience the sensation of pleasure without exertion, we can grab a quick little “dopamine fix” through consumption, and easily sever the experience of gaining pleasure from the exertion of strenuous effort. The fatal step occurs when our reward center learns to easily compensate for unsatisfied effort through the short-term success and reward of consumption. By severing work (only effort) from consumption (easy pleasure), we subsequently begin to perceive work as much more exhausting and not worth the effort. At the same time, we start to look for more ways to incorporate “quick wins” in our behavior through consumption.

The result is that our consumer society has a general tendency towards addiction. The bottom line is that neither reward without effort nor effort without reward results in motivation; only direct reward resulting from effort (which results in taking pleasure in our accomplishments) can and will be rewarded by motivation! If you find your work interesting and challenging, you will experience pleasure through your work, which in turn leads to a higher willingness to perform, and to greater resiliency.

By now, it should be clear that for the majority of people, our modern working world is not designed to provide a brain-compatible environment. Unless we are craftsmen, we are no longer able to see the direct results of our daily efforts. The result is that our reward system begins to interpret work as no longer worthwhile and gives rise to a culture of complaining, cynicism, motivational problems, and, in the long run, addiction and overload syndromes (such as burnout).