I wait at a bus stop. A car passes by at high speed, and a woman that was standing too close to the road has just the time to jump clear of a shower of slush. Note to self: be aware of this danger, never stand too close, as there is no benefit but potential for ruining your clothing. Next time I notice myself standing too close to puddle/slush on the road, I move away and reinforce the heuristic.
A person from my department at work admonishes me for breaking the standard procedure for connecting to the Internet, which resulted in me being able to work that evening while causing no harm. I attempt to reason with the man, relying on my usual analytic ability to clearly explain the situation to everyone’s satisfaction. Since the argument matches the template some of my psychological adaptations recognize as confrontational, emotions start to interfere with my normal cognition, and as a result I’m unable to think carefully and my argument is much less persuasive than expected. Note to self: when expected to enter a situation that can evoke strong emotions, plan what to do and what to say in advance, before emotions start interfering with ability to think, rehearse the plan in your mind, and only then allow the exposure. Next time I notice that I started to argue with emotions rising up, I cut myself short and regroup. Later, I reflect on the signs that could allow me to notice the situation approaching in advance (such as an unusual social interaction, something I wouldn’t already have the heuristic associated with), and rehearse the response of recognizing the situation when exposed to appropriate cues.
I slip on an iced street, but recover without falling. I look around, and realize that a low fence that goes along the road has sharp spikes on its top, and the adjoining building a sharp stone border, so that unlucky fall on either would have me injured. There is potential for harm in falling close to them, and no benefit in choosing to walk close to them as opposed to giving enough room to fall clear. So I adopt a heuristic of not walking close to dangerous structures on slippery surface, or going much slower where necessary. Next time I notice that I’m unnecessarily close to a dangerous structure while there’s room to walk clear of it with no additional inconvenience, I correct my trajectory, thus reinforcing the heuristic.
“Since the argument matches the template some of my psychological adaptations recognize as confrontational, emotions start to interfere with my normal cognition, and as a result I’m unable to think carefully and my argument is much less persuasive than expected.”
I’ve trained myself to notice when I start to get emotionally involved in a confrontation, and to make a conscious effort to take “one step back” and I deliberately apologize to the person for something, though not necessarily what we’re arguing about. That one step will a) snap me out of the confrontational mode, and b) convince whoever I’m talking to that I’m reasonable and open to their point of view. This method has helped me a lot at work and with family, and I wish I could remember to use it all the time.
This method has helped me a lot at work and with family, and I wish I could remember to use it all the time.
Just keep on using it as much as you can, perhaps periodically reminding yourself, and the habit will reinforce itself.
If you want to improve faster, you could try something like Benjamin Franklin’s incredibly nerdy method: he would pick some good habit to reinforce (or bad one to avoid) and he would remind himself of this daily. Every time he fell short of his goal, he would make a check mark on a spreadsheet. When he’d gone a week without a single check mark, he would proceed on to the next habit on his list.
(Irrelevant story: Back in high school English class, we were assigned two essays about morality from the same time period. One was Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, which was every bit as creepy as the title suggests. The other was Franklin’s description of his spreadseet-of-virtue experiment, which would not have been out of place as a top-level post on Less Wrong. Reading these together produced some of the most severe mood whiplash that is physically possible.)
Note to self: when expected to enter a situation that can evoke strong emotions, plan what to do and what to say in advance, before emotions start interfering with ability to think, rehearse the plan in your mind, and only then allow the exposure. Next time I notice that I started to argue with emotions rising up, I cut myself short and regroup.
Addition a year later: I’m currently doing a study group with a friend based on a book called ‘Crucial Conversations’, which is entirely about being more effective at communicating in emotion-laden situations. Highly recommended.
Nice point. Can you give examples of noticing such errors, and of what it looks like to notice such errors?
I wait at a bus stop. A car passes by at high speed, and a woman that was standing too close to the road has just the time to jump clear of a shower of slush. Note to self: be aware of this danger, never stand too close, as there is no benefit but potential for ruining your clothing. Next time I notice myself standing too close to puddle/slush on the road, I move away and reinforce the heuristic.
A person from my department at work admonishes me for breaking the standard procedure for connecting to the Internet, which resulted in me being able to work that evening while causing no harm. I attempt to reason with the man, relying on my usual analytic ability to clearly explain the situation to everyone’s satisfaction. Since the argument matches the template some of my psychological adaptations recognize as confrontational, emotions start to interfere with my normal cognition, and as a result I’m unable to think carefully and my argument is much less persuasive than expected. Note to self: when expected to enter a situation that can evoke strong emotions, plan what to do and what to say in advance, before emotions start interfering with ability to think, rehearse the plan in your mind, and only then allow the exposure. Next time I notice that I started to argue with emotions rising up, I cut myself short and regroup. Later, I reflect on the signs that could allow me to notice the situation approaching in advance (such as an unusual social interaction, something I wouldn’t already have the heuristic associated with), and rehearse the response of recognizing the situation when exposed to appropriate cues.
I slip on an iced street, but recover without falling. I look around, and realize that a low fence that goes along the road has sharp spikes on its top, and the adjoining building a sharp stone border, so that unlucky fall on either would have me injured. There is potential for harm in falling close to them, and no benefit in choosing to walk close to them as opposed to giving enough room to fall clear. So I adopt a heuristic of not walking close to dangerous structures on slippery surface, or going much slower where necessary. Next time I notice that I’m unnecessarily close to a dangerous structure while there’s room to walk clear of it with no additional inconvenience, I correct my trajectory, thus reinforcing the heuristic.
“Since the argument matches the template some of my psychological adaptations recognize as confrontational, emotions start to interfere with my normal cognition, and as a result I’m unable to think carefully and my argument is much less persuasive than expected.”
I’ve trained myself to notice when I start to get emotionally involved in a confrontation, and to make a conscious effort to take “one step back” and I deliberately apologize to the person for something, though not necessarily what we’re arguing about. That one step will a) snap me out of the confrontational mode, and b) convince whoever I’m talking to that I’m reasonable and open to their point of view. This method has helped me a lot at work and with family, and I wish I could remember to use it all the time.
Just keep on using it as much as you can, perhaps periodically reminding yourself, and the habit will reinforce itself.
If you want to improve faster, you could try something like Benjamin Franklin’s incredibly nerdy method: he would pick some good habit to reinforce (or bad one to avoid) and he would remind himself of this daily. Every time he fell short of his goal, he would make a check mark on a spreadsheet. When he’d gone a week without a single check mark, he would proceed on to the next habit on his list.
(Irrelevant story: Back in high school English class, we were assigned two essays about morality from the same time period. One was Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, which was every bit as creepy as the title suggests. The other was Franklin’s description of his spreadseet-of-virtue experiment, which would not have been out of place as a top-level post on Less Wrong. Reading these together produced some of the most severe mood whiplash that is physically possible.)
Addition a year later: I’m currently doing a study group with a friend based on a book called ‘Crucial Conversations’, which is entirely about being more effective at communicating in emotion-laden situations. Highly recommended.
Still recommended?
Still recommended.