Monday, February 1, 2016

Zen Sin

My blog post here a bit more than three years ago was a meditation on sin and Christianity. I concluded that sin was just the human tendency to f#%k things up, and one of Christianity's greatest gifts is offering humans a way through our screwups and back to grace and shalom.

In the months and posts since then--despite this potentially good aspect of Christianity and despite the wisdom I see in the teachings of Jesus-- I've wandered away from the church. Coincidentally, my interests have flowed towards mindfulness--secular meditative practices with roots in Buddhism. I'm now pursuing a Master's degree in the applications of mindfulness.

As I've written before, my interest in mindfulness is in the science of it. I am no fan of the touchy-feely-New-Agey aspects of mindfulness and I have no interest in becoming a Buddhist -- or embracing any other religion at this time. So I was taken aback to find my course instructors at Bangor (Wales) University teaching something that smacked of Christian sin: Buddhism's Five Hindrances.

This bugged me. Conventional concepts of sin often include withering condemnation of others, ignoring one's own sin, and missing out restorative processes of atonement and forgiveness. When the sin-detector gets turned on the self, it may discharge loads of self-contempt--antithetical to self-kindness essential to mindfulness.

But after some reflection, I am coming to a more elaborated view of the Five Hindrances, not unlike my revised attitudes about sin. There are similarities between "Hins" and Sins, including potential value in their recognition and avoidance, but they also seem to differ in their aims.

If you look at The Five Hindrances and The Seven Deadly Sins, side-by-side, it's not hard to spot the similarities. I've arranged the Hins and Sins to reflect what I see as the rough correspondences:

Sensual desire – Craving/wanting


Aversion/not wanting

Sloth, Dejection
Sloth and Torpor

Doubt and Hesitation

Restlessness and worry – Anger



I was interested to read on Wikipedia that the origin of the Seven Deadly Sins, like the five Hins, lies in a monastic tradition, in this case from the Desert Fathers -- ascetic 3rd Century hermits in Egypt.  The Five Hins were developed within the Buddhist tradition, according to Wikipedia, but it's unclear whether these came directly from the Buddha (who lived around 500 BCE).

The purpose of the Seven Deadly Sins included the teaching of good and evil and as a framework for confession and repentance. They evolved over the years within various traditions. Some Christians added to the list, or recombined the sins under different names.

The Hindrances likewise took on slightly different forms in different traditions within Buddhism, but generally were "identified as mental factors that hinder progress in meditation and in our daily lives," according to Wikipedia.

This was the context of the Hins in my Mindfulness course, so understanding their ultimate purpose leads to the question of the functions of meditation. For the Buddha and his followers, perhaps that meant enlightenment, Truth, Wisdom, Nirvana, or escape from endless cycles of suffering and rebirth. For contemporary secular mindfulness perhaps this would be summed up best as personal well-being.

My experiential sense of Mindfulness vs Christianity is that the former heals the self primarily for oneself, whilst the latter intends to fix the self for the sake of the larger community, God, and the afterlife. Most of the Seven Deadly Sins poison your interactions with others--your standing in the community and with God.  Soured relationships and losing face, in turn, undermine well-being. So both the Five Hindrances and  the Seven Deadly Sins impinge on happiness/well-being--but more or less directly, sooner or later; and absent or via external judgment, respectively.

Christianity has no qualms about designating things as good and bad, and fixing things is largely external. You compare your behavior to the accepted standards of wrong and right; confess, truly repent, correct the behavior, redress your sins, and you are forgiven--sometimes, perhaps, only by God and only by deathbed conversion. Go and sin no more.

Mindfulness, on the other hand, seems to me to depend largely on internal self-assessment and self-regulation. In this the Hindrances veer dangerously close to a paradox involving a prime enemy of mindfulness--the brain's "discrepancy monitor" :

". . . a process that continually monitors and evaluates the self and the current situation against a model or standard -- an idea of what is desired, required, expected, or feared. Once this discrepancy monitor is switched on, it will find mismatches between how things are now and how we think they should be . . .  [C]rucially, dwelling on how things are not as we want them to be can, naturally enough, create further negative mood." [from Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy for Depression, by ZV Segal, JMG Williams, and JD Teasdale, 2013]

It's hard-- maybe impossible--to rid oneself of the Hindrances without switching on this rumination-inducing discrepancy monitor as you notice your meditation is not "what it should be." Dissecting out the specific hindrances that are at work tends to lead me--a comparatively new practitioner--to get caught up in distracting self-evaluation and criticism.

But I'm getting better at using mindfulness techniques to avoid getting quite so embroiled. One of the recommended techniques for this is slightly diverting attention from the maelstrom of thoughts and emotions by  just observing and labelling the mental phenomena as they appear ("There's anger;" "That's a self-critical thought"). Another technique is focusing on the associated sensations in the body (queasy stomach or clenched jaw, for example).

I wonder also if I might be better off looking at the Hindrances from a wider perspective -- as I did with sin. Instead of evaluating my meditation practice per se through this filter, perhaps I should view the hindrances as factors that affect my willingness or intention to even begin practice or stay with practice whole-heartedly.

A leading scholarly dissection of Mindfulness identifies three aspects to it: intention, attention, and attitude (i.e. maintaining a kind, non-judgmental attitude toward oneself). By this taxonomy, Hindrances could divert people from meditation-in-progress by competing for attention. But beyond diverting attention, perhaps the Hindrances also undermine intention--leading to excuses, basically -- familiar to Christian sinners and anyone who's ever tried to do anything that requires disciplined practice. I'm too tired/ busy/ hungry/ angry/ expert/ restless/ doubtful / sick of doing this ... Same old.

Wikipedia's entry about the hindrances stresses that the key to dealing with them is recognizing and accepting that the hindrances that are present; being curious about them; understanding them; and not identifying with them. You see laziness has sprawled across your day  -- but you don't come to see yourself as an inherently lazy person, for example.

Beyond this, my favorite quickie crib sheet on Buddhism offers fixes for the Hindrances, described below (this scheme divides the hindrances up slightly differently). Of course when the Hindrances are throttling your intention to practice, this means invoking an oft-repeated mindfulness pointer (which works fine for overcoming excuses in any aspect of life): "You don't have to like it, you just have to do it." I've included links to mindfulness practices that you can try for free.
  • For Sloth and Torpor -- get some sunshine or change your position -- sit up or stand up, for example.
  • For Doubt and Hesitation--study, ask questions

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Coloring Mindfully

In June, five of Amazon's top-selling titles were Mindfulness/ adult coloring books (or colouring-in books, if you are of the British persuasion). The Independent, the Huffington Post and other online and traditional publications have reviewed their favorites (or favourites). Knowing of my interest in mindfulness, two thoughtful friends independently concluded this would be the perfect gift for me. I expect lots of people will find them in their Christmas stockings this year--maybe with a nice set of colored pens or pencils.
My coloring in
The Mindfulness Colouring Book

But as much as I appreciate these gifts, I have to confess I'm ambivalent about mindfulness coloring books. On the one hand, it's good to see so many people enjoying a salutary pastime -- switching off their devices and pursuing well-being. And coloring books are a lot more affordable and less time-consuming than an 8-week Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction Course (mine cost £225 in 2012).

On the other hand, I have questions: Does coloring actually promote mindfulness? Is there any evidence to support this? Are there ways to maximize mindfulness from coloring? Are there any potential downsides? Would other activities be better at inducing mindfulness than coloring?

There are plenty of reasons for pursuing mindfulness. Among the best-studied benefits of 8-week mindfulness courses are the prevention of relapse in depression and reduction in anxiety. But every week another half-dozen mindfulness studies or so are added to the PubMed database. Many of these studies find at least tentative evidence of wide-ranging mental and physical health benefits. Crossing my desk lately, for example, were articles suggesting mindfulness training improved athletic performance in darts and  Nordic sports and eased emotional and cognitive problems in individuals with Parkinson's disease and their caregivers. Previous posts in this blog have discussed other potential benefits of mindfulness.

But back to coloring books. Not all of the books pitch themselves as mindfulness activities per se. Some claim they'll help you "unplug, unwind," find "calm" or happiness, "manage stress," "boost strength and courage," "relax," "smile," or obtain "balance." Some dispense with self-help claims and aim their pitch at fans of you-name-it:  A Game of ThronesHarry Potter, fantastic cities, Old-fashioned Farm Lifesteampunk fashion, American Muscle Cars, 1960-1975Moms, ugly holiday sweaters, The Zombie Apocalypse, Eddie Redmayne, or Ellen Degeneres, for example.
My coloring in
The Mindfulness Colouring Book

Then there are the books that mock the genre -- including the Color me Drunk Drinking and Activity Book, Dinosaurs With Jobs: a Coloring Book Celebrating our Old-School Coworkers, and  Unicorns Are Jerks: A Coloring Book Exposing the Cold, Hard, Sparkly Truth." And, inevitably, there are the risqué titles that put the emphasis on adult coloring, including The Fetish Coloring Book, which claims it's "a remarkable way to say 'I love you' on Grandma’s birthday." Remarkable, indeed, had my Grandma received this.

So what connection could coloring actually have with mindfulness? In theory, just about any activity can be a vehicle for mindfulness. Jon Kabat-Zinn, a leading forebear in the field, defines mindfulness as "paying attention in a particular way: on purpose, in the present moment, non-judgementally." He writes in Full Catastrophe Living,  “It is the awareness that is most important, not the breath nor any other object of attention.” Students in mindfulness courses (such as Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction, MBSR) are typically assigned to practice an everyday activity mindfully. This could be eating a raisin, brushing teeth, or washing dishes, for example. So why not coloring?

Unfortunately, only anecdotal observations support the efficacy of mindful coloring books. The pro-Mindfulness HuffPost, for example, offers  personal testimony and interviews clinical psychologist Ben Michaelis who sites "a long history" of coloring-in for mental health. But beyond informal accounts, I've found no scientific studies of mindfulness through coloring.

It's understandable. Most of the research showing benefits of mindfulness tests people before-and-after MBSR or similar programs. Even after 8 weeks of classes and home practice, the benefits of mindfulness tend to be subtle. So, if I had to make a prediction, I'd say it's unlikely psychologists would be able to to prove large benefits from episodic coloring without additional mindfulness instruction.

My mindfulness coloring books give a brief introduction to what mindfulness is and how to color mindfully. Colour me Mindful has an introduction by Oli Doyle advising, "Mindfulness is the art of present moment awareness, of being alert and relaxed at once." Doyle invites you to take "a little holiday from thinking, stepping into the present moment," and "Take a breath and feel the air coming and going."

Emma Farrarons' introduction to The Mindfulness Colouring Book offers this instruction:
Being mindful is about paying attention to the present moment, clearing your mind of distractions and focusing on simply being. Pretty much any activity, done right, can be an exercise in mindfulness . . . But the act of colouring in -- carefully and attentively filling a page with colour, the feel of the pencil in your hand as you meditate on the beauty of the whole illustration -- is particularly suited to mindful meditation.
Would these instructions be enough to help people color mindfully--to assure the activity was "done right"? Signs suggest not.  In a glowing article about the Harry Potter coloring book, the thing that author Dasha Fayvinov likes about coloring is, well, basically the opposite of mindful:
I like to sit for hours and let my mind go . . . Now I can sit for hours and think about everything while my hands are furiously coloring ....
Fascinating research by Matt Killingsworth suggests that, contrary to Ms Fayvinov's experience, mind-wandering -- mentally roaming anywhere beyond what you're actually doing -- undermines happiness. And that applies even when your mind ventures to more pleasant times and places than the present.

Author Julie Beck says she colors while she watches television:
In the admittedly brief time that I have had this colouring book, it has filled a particular activity niche for me, which is “something to do with my hands while I watch Netflix.” Other activities in this niche include: knitting, painting my nails, texting, putting candy in my mouth. End of list. ... I really do think that a lifetime of multitasking has left me occasionally incapable of subduing the entirety of my mind with one activity."

Multitask-coloring is, again, pretty much the opposite of cultivating mindfulness.

What really tipped me off that coloring might not be leading to mindfulness was a Face Book post by a good friend:
I've been trying out coloring before bedtime as a possible way to sleep better. Most of the books I've tried I've found stressful—either the patterns are so detailed that it takes hours to color them and my arthritic hand can't color and stay within the tiny pieces, or the patterns are so large that after coloring a cat, I end up with a blob with a tail.
Reading the reviews of coloring books on Amazon showed my friend's experience was not unusual. One reviewer wrote, "Didn't relax me at all. I felt more stressed trying to stay between the lines and not let the color bleed through the paper." One Arkay Adkisson commented, "Every page is so similar that it is not fun, relaxing, or enjoyable." Other comments: "Not what I expected. Boring." and:
Almost every picture looks the same and the coloring area is very small. The book is advertised as 'relaxing'. How could it be when the spaces are so tiny? Very frustrating and I'll probably be unable to use the book. I was really looking forward to receiving the book with pencils, etc. The whole purchase delivery is a bad experience and a HUGE let-down.
These problems parallel the challenges people encounter all the time in mindfulness meditation practice, which can be unpleasant in similar ways -- boring, frustrating, not relaxing, not what you'd hoped or expected; strange; embarrassing.

Dealing with these and other challenges is maybe not the main point of mindfulness, but is certainly important. That's where a mindfulness teacher might be more helpful than the two-paragraph blurb on the inside cover of a coloring book. Mindful coaching would help you to notice discomfort, but not struggle; respond mindfully, rather than react automatically; and be more patient and kind to yourself.

An MBSR course would give you tips on how to pay attention purposefully, non-judgementally, in the present moment. As simple as it sounds, it can be really difficult--mostly because minds are predisposed to falling into the same old ruts. We do things on autopilot without noticing anything at all; we slip into rumination, mind-wandering, harsh self-criticism, and worry, for example.

Many of these problems stem from a part of the psyche that is constantly evaluating. Is our experience good or bad? Better or worse? As nice as expected? Am I more relaxed or more tense? The judging may turn unkind and self-critical. Human evolutionary history favored survival of the vigilant and thus left our species predisposed to anticipate and detect the negative; primed to freeze, flee, or fight even imagined threats. Cue the stress hormones! These reactions might have been beneficial when our ancestors were facing down sabre-toothed tigers, but deployed against coloring books and similar 21st Century problems, only compound our distress.

Mindfulness is intended to help people avoid the mental ruts--to experience the present moment, good or bad, and to find appropriate responses rather letting automatic stress reactions prevail. Mindfulness re-trains the brain through kind, gentle focusing of attention to the input from our senses. This input could be from coloring, or it could be from lots of other activities. What you use as your focus is less important than how you practice -- and that you practice. Over time, you may develop your skill at intentionally directing your brain along constructive paths--away from anxious chatter that can keep you awake at night, for example.

It was clear in the MBSR class I took that different practices worked better for different people. Some found it much easier to practice mindful walking rather than sitting, for example.  Similarly, it might be that coloring is not an easy place for some people to start mindful practice, especially without more detailed advice than is to be found in a coloring book.

But you won't know until you experiment mindfully. To flesh out your coloring book advice -- short of taking an 8-week course--I'd suggest trying the guided mindfulness practices at FreeMindfulness.Org. By listening to the coaching of a breathing practice or a body scan, you'll get a better picture of what mindful practice entails. Then just go to it -- dance, sing, knit, cook, drive, walk -- or color-- mindfully.

As my own personal experiment, I've created and recorded a script for a guided mindful coloring practice below. I'd be interested to hear what you think...

Bonus links:


Guided mindfulness coloring practice:

Click For Audio of Guided Mindful Coloring [oh, bother. Can't get this to play, but the link will take you to a page where you can click on "soundfiles" and then download the MindfulColoring mp3 file]

Finding a quiet and comfortable place to color, where you won't be disturbed for awhile. . .  Deciding now how long you will be coloring. This guided practice will be about 11 minutes, but if you are practicing on you own, perhaps you might want to set a gentle timer or some soft music that will play for the time you've made for this exercise.

Bringing together the materials for coloring--pencils or pens, pages to color, a blotter page to absorb extra color through the back of the page if that's needed. . . 

And making provisions for comfort--finding a posture that is relaxed and easy, but alert, dignified, and assuring your arms and back are supported. Perhaps a lap blanket if it's chilly. 

Before you start your coloring session... getting a sense of yourself, your body and mind in this place .... Noticing your breath as it moves in ..... and out. Noticing any sensations in your hands or arms; Noticing your thoughts. Experiencing a sense of your body in the chair, the chair in the room, amidst the sounds -- or the silence, just taking it all in...the body and mind as a whole right here, in this moment. Sitting with this sense of awareness for a few moments. 

Now considering the intentions for this coloring practice-- it's just to focus your attention on your experience for a few minutes, bringing a kind, friendly attitude to yourself and your coloring. To be fully present, fully engaged in what you're doing.That's all there is to it. The goal is not to create a pretty work of art, or to finish a project, to perfect your coloring technique, or even to relax--although any of those things might happen. The main thing is noticing your very own experience -- however it happens in each moment.

Choosing a page to color and a pen to color with . . . Remembering there's no right or wrong in this... Just focusing in detail your experience . . . Perhaps noticing, without judging, the thoughts that pass through your mind as you choose a color. Maybe you choose randomly. Maybe a color you haven't used in awhile. Maybe a color that seems right for the mood of the moment. Just noticing your thoughts and, as best you can, letting them go without self-criticism.

Beginning to color--pouring your attention into the area where the pen meets the paper. . . Watching as the color starts to fill the space, and the colored area grows . . . noticing, moment by moment, bringing intense curiosity to the process, as if you had never seen coloring before...

Perhaps some white space escapes from the color ...  gently returning to color in that spot, if you feel like it, or just leaving the gaps .. noticing your thoughts as you go, being kind to yourself, and gently returning your attention to the color filling the space.

You may find your mind wandering as you color. That's not a mistake -- it's just what minds do. When this happens, notice where your mind has wandered off to and then gently bring your attention back to your coloring . . .

Perhaps after a while... finding you want to change colors or shift to coloring a new area or a new page. Just notice where your mind goes as you do that and then returning the spotlight of attention to the color going on the page. . . in this moment, and this moment, and this moment.

Perhaps some color goes outside the lines. Notice that. And  notice any thoughts or feelings that arise -- perhaps frustration, or self-critical thoughts, a sense of rebelliousness, or even amusement. . . Gently let these mental events go and return your focus to the coloring. As long as you are fully experiencing your coloring in the moment, you are coloring mindfully. . . 

From time to time, you may feel an itch or a twitch, an ache or pain. Maybe some strain in your fingers or hand. Gently notice the sensations--or even the absence of sensations--without trying to change or avoid what you feel. You might want to pause in your coloring...  mindfully moving and adjusting your posture. You might want to experiment with imagining that you can direct your breath right into sensations that arise--seeing how and whether it changes as you exhale.

Over and over returning your focus to the coloring -- bringing curiosity to this millimeter of paper in this moment. 

You may notice emotions arising. . . boredom, irritation, or maybe pleasure and pride as you color. Or maybe you don't notice any particular emotions at all. In any case, the important thing is that what you feel is what you feel. There's no need to push away or change the bad feelings or to try to hold on to pleasant emotions. As best you can, just notice ... and return your focus to the color filling the page, moment by moment.

As you approach the end of your coloring session... moving your attention away from the coloring and returning to a sense of yourself.... Noticing your breath as it moves in ..... and out. Noticing any sensations in your hands or arms; Noticing your thoughts. Experiencing a sense of your body in the chair, the chair in the room, amidst the sounds -- or the silence, just taking it all in...the body and mind as a whole right here. Sitting with this sense of awareness for a few moments. 

Beginning to bring yourself back to your ongoing day or evening... Maybe giving your fingers and toes a gentle stretch. Putting the pens or pencils in a container, if that's where they belong. Having a last look at the page you have been working on. Without self-criticism, noticing the new colors on the page and giving yourself a mental hug for taking this time to care for yourself. 

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

On Human Nature, Bots, Grace, and a Few Good Pigs

It's depressing to listen to the news and arrive yet again at the conclusion that war and violence seem fundamental to humanity. Maybe it's The Way of Nature, a theme I mentioned at the start of this blog (echoing the opening lines from The Tree of Life film.) In this essay I offer some offbeat evidence of humankind's warlike nature, then bring in two disparate sources -- one scientific and one Evangelical Christian -- suggesting how The Way of Grace may trump the Way of Nature.

 Consider first this unlikely demonstration of humanity's warlike nature. It comes from an article about the first artificial intelligence gaming bots to pass the Turing "human-ness" test.

The Turing test, named after Alan Turing, "is a test of a machine's ability to exhibit intelligent behavior, equivalent to or indistinguishable from, that of an actual human" (from Wikipedia). Evidently, after some years of trying, videogame programmers at last created a computer program that operates game bots that fight convincingly like bots operated by humans.

The report, from October, 2012, said an ongoing challenge to develop realistic computer-run bots had finally yielded two winners:  programmed bots that fooled 52% of players into thinking the bots were being operated by real humans. Bots that were actually played by humans were guessed as being human-operated by just 40% of players, on average. The key to more-human-than-human bots, according to programmer Jacob Schrum, is their ability to mimic human foibles.
“People tend to tenaciously pursue specific opponents without regard for optimality,” Schrum says. “When humans have a grudge, they’ll chase after an enemy, even when it’s not in their interests."
“In the case of the BotPrize,” Schrum says, “a great deal of the challenge is in defining what ‘human-like’ is, and then setting constraints upon the neural networks so that they evolve toward that behavior. 
“If we just set the goal as eliminating one’s enemies, a bot will evolve toward having perfect aim, which is not very human-like. So we impose constraints on the bot’s aim, such that rapid movements and long distances decrease accuracy."
The artificial-intelligence programming of the bots operated a bit like natural selection, only in this case the selective force driving bot evolution was "appearing human" rather than survival of the fittest (i.e. leaving the most offspring). Any programming changes in the bots' behavior that led to them being judged as non-human were eliminated. Changes that led to greater apparent "humanness" were retained. The human-like behaviors the programers found were bearing a grudge-- ruthlessly pursuing an enemy (even when it was not in the interest of bot survival)--and being less than a perfect shot at high speed and long distance -- pretty much the Way of (human) Nature.

Now consider two very disparate sources on Grace in human lives:  the grandson of a Pentacostal televangelist, and a sociological study of the history of New Guinean tribal wars.  Possibly because they are so far removed from one another, I was strangely reassured by their joint message: Drawing from ancient wells of wisdom and tradition, there's a chance the human race can overcome violent natural tendencies.

I probably would never have known of or listened to  Drew Sumrall, the grandson of a famous Pentacostal televangelist but for a tip from emergent church guru Brian McLaren, who used his blog one day to tout Sumerall's online sermon. Quoth McLaren, "Pay attention to Drew Sumrall - he represents what is happening among many thoughtful children and grandchildren of more conventional conservative Christians in America."

Curious, I had a look at the pouffy-haired, smartly-suited young Sumrall. His look and the swarm of Bible quotations at the start of the video had me expecting the usual televangelist prosperity gospel. Instead, Sumrall described Jesus as an advocate for  "an egalitarian collective that suspends all tribal identities."  After flipping through examples of our 21st century tribal identities -- race, political party, gender, social networking groups, church denomination -- Sumrall said the Gospel and Pauline letters give us a Jesus that urges rejection of group affiliations. Instead, we're to join the nobodies, the "unwanted, excremental remainder of society... the refuse of humanity." Christ's blessings were "for those who would never fit in... the lost, the least, the sick, the weary."

But, Sumrall observed, that's all of us. "We're all broken," he said. From the guy sleeping on the street to the super-rich rock star, all would say they "don't fit in." We join in what Jesus was doing not by sharing our inclusion, but by joining the excluded. "To arrive at success, we must fail... empty ourselves of ourselves." Sumrall says the natural evolution of nomadic rivalry is towards "worry, envy, anger, violence, death." Alternatively, he says, Jesus calls for the end of the feral being that lies within each person -- giving up our tribal and familial ties in favor of Grace.

The next evidence of the possibilities for grace comes from the far side of the world -- warring Enga tribes in Papua, New Guinea, as studied by University of Utah anthropologist Polly Wiessner and Nitze Pupu, a blind Enga law school graduate. Their study, reported in the  Sept. 28, 2012, issue of the journal Science looked at the incidence and mortality from battles among the 110 Enga tribes.

Enga tribal village magistrates returning
from negotiating a cease-fire to a tribal war
in Enga Province, Papua New Guinea
A press release for the study says that until the 1950s, the Enga were largely isolated from the outside world, and waged their wars with bows and arrows. But in the 1990s, young people and mercenaries took up semiautomatic rifles and shotguns with devastating consequences: 500 wars over 20 years killed 4,816 people--about 1% of the Enga population.

Wiessner describes the chaos: "Missions and high schools were burned, entire valleys vacated, thousands became refugees and government services and development were disrupted." Enough was enough. Wiessner says the Enga turned to peace as they were driven off their land and "totally exhausted with war. The could see it was unproductive."

At that point, traditional village justice returned to the scene. In contrast with Western justice systems, the emphasis of the indigenous system was on restoration of relations through mediation and compensation -- traditionally involving payment in pigs. Hotheads get sent back to their villages to drink coca-cola (the modern-day substitute for chewing on sugar cane, we're told). Local politics and future relationships of the tribes are factored into village court decisions, and Christian ideology (embraced by most Enga) backs up the peace-making of the village courts.

Indigenous justice through village courts "...made it possible to control the wave of violence after the adoption of guns in a way that neither the colonial powers nor state could manage," says Wiessner. She found that wars were stopped more quickly, with fewer deaths from 2006 to 2010, and a sharp drop in the number of wars in the following year as village courts increased control. Where Western-style justice led to fines or jail terms for 10% of cases in District Courts, traditional intertribal courts produced a compensation order, mediated settlement, or agreement to settle out of court in 98% of cases. The average number of deaths per war was 3.7 in pre-colonial times. It rose as high as 19 per war in the early 1990s. By 2006-2010, there were an average of five deaths per war.

The Enga's tradtional system of dispute resolution "is built on restoring respect, accepting liability and responsibility, and paying compensation," says Wiessner. In contrast, "The Western judicial system is for a broader anonymous society. Our system is effective for taking offenders out of circulation – which theirs isn't – but often the offender doesn't accept responsibility or compensate, so the victim gets nothing."

Weissner says the Enga were able to draw on traditions that predated contact with Europeans. "Social technology from generations past was adapted to contain the impact of adopted modern technology. … New institutions build on former rules, norms and values; history matters."

When Australia assumed colonial rule in the 1950s, the Enga already possessed a 100-year history of suppressing violence through compensation via "pigs and other valuables – to make peace with enemies, boost a clan's reputation and re-establish the balance of power." In addition, the Enga developed "new indigenous, religious ceremonies ... to instill discipline in young men, honor ancestors and unite tribes." This included huge exchange networks -- tens of thousands of people exchanging hundreds of thousands of pigs.

These traditions declined as colonial armed adminsitrators took responsibility for maintaining peace. Warfare only intensified with social inequities after Papua New Guinea gained independence and  another tradition -- rejecting use of firearms in warfare -- disappeared in the 1990s. An arms race, abetted by businessmen, politicians and arms procured from the police and army led to devastating consequences.  "Extreme violence came when traditional, small-scale, face-to-face societies evolved into larger-scale, anonymous societies where people didn't know each other anymore," Weissner says. "People get into a brawl, or someone steals a pig, rapes a women or kills someone, and the clan must show that it has the strength to defend itself."

The authors allude to Steven Pinker's conclusion in Better Angels of our Nature--that humans are becoming less warring and lethal, but Wiessner and Pupu are uncertain whether the trend toward peace will continue in New Guinea. On the one hand, development and foreign aid could mean the Enga have more more to lose through the ravages of war. But on the other hand, development and population growth could lead to exploitation by multinational corporations, discontent and conflict over natural resources, and greater anonymity.
... As Enga society grows, clan members may be less likely to make compensation payments on behalf of kinsmen they barely know. If this happens, local institutions founded on principles of kinship, respect and restorative justice will not suffice, and the Enga may find themselves in another cycle of violence as the scale of their society increases, Wiessner and Pupu conclude.

Perhaps it's a stretch, but I now connect these three very different articles through a perspective I've got from an online course I took (The Science of Happiness from UCal Berkeley's Greater Good Science Center) and Jonathan Haidt's  The Righteous Mind. Riffing on evolutionary theory that allows the possibility that selection has sometimes favored cooperative human groups (rather than just well-adapted individuals), Haidt sees humans as being "90% chimp; 10% bee"-- that is, 90% devoted to self-advancement and 10% to hive-like behavior for our team, tribe, clan, group, homies, drama club, caste... etc.

He sees some sort of "hive switch" evolving in the human psyche more than 50,000  years ago. This change comprised a host of physiological, mental, and behavioral adaptations that reinforce cooperation. We get a rush of "reward" chemicals in our brain when we feel part of a team working (or singing, marching, dancing, playing, cheering, etc.) together. On the other hand, the same "hive switch" may explain a dark side of human nature: ill-will and even violence against those who are not part of our group.

Instructors for the GGSC course took us through the evidence that some of the most rewarding aspects of life come from social engagement, compassion, helping others, and involvement with goals beyond ourselves. From family to friends to contacts in the community and social capital -- engagement with others makes our lives happy, healthy, and satisfying. When this engagement extends to people outside our self-defined group, barriers, prejudices, and anxieties come down -- we start to see the outsiders as part of our tribe.

So back to the three articles above -- if the way of nature is our chimp-like, individualistic humanity, maniacally set on self-preservation (or clan-preservation) against our enemies, the contrasting way of grace is, as Sumrall recommends, identifying ourselves as family with the out-group. Or, as the Enga would do, restoring peace not with more violence, but a few good pigs.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Potentially Positive News for Cultivating Compassion

Just in time for the Christmas season ... some more evidence that it may be possible to teach people to be more compassionate. I looked at this idea in a previous post, and pretty much concluded  (bah, Humbug!) that, as much as I WANTED to believe it was true, the evidence from the studies wasn't strong enough to support that yet.

But I recently saw a "Fast Company" post about research from the Center for Investigating Healthy Minds (CIHM) at the Waisman Center, University of Wisconsin-Madison,  (self-proclaimed on its website to be "a global leader in conducting novel research that has revolutionized how we understand the mind, our emotions, and how to nurture well-being for ourselves and others." They did get a few mentions in my "Science of Happiness" class from Berkeley.) Their study offered new evidence to support the idea that compassion is a trainable skill.

The Fast Company article describes a research project by Helen Weng and others, including lab chief Richard J. Davidson, which concludes:
...compassion can be cultivated with training and that greater altruistic behavior may emerge from increased engagement of neural systems implicated in understanding the suffering of other people, executive and emotional control, and reward processing.
Unfortunately, neither the abstract nor the FastCompany article gives details such as how many people participated in the study. This makes it hard for me to know how enthusiastic I should feel about the research, but the points that emerge from the Fast Company article do make it seem like they covered thoroughly what ground they covered.

The study included participants who received just fourteen 30-minute sessions of online training in compassion over the course of two weeks. (As with the study in my previous blog post on the subject, this included imagining compassion for one's self, then a beloved friend or family member, a neutral stranger, then a disliked person.) These participants were compared to an active control group that received training in "reappraisal training, which is an emotion regulation technique that asks people to re-interpret negative events to decrease negative emotions. "

The compassion training encouraged participants "to observe the thoughts and feelings that arise as they imagine a time that each person has suffered. The goal is to give participants practice at tolerating their reactions, rather than avoiding them or getting too wrapped up in them. The next part involves actively wishing others compassion—or wishing their suffering is relieved. "

All participants underwent MRI brain scans before and after the study and were were assessed for changes in brain regions linked to compassion. They were also assessed for compassion in a computer game in which they could contribute their money to others. According to the FastCompany article,  there was a correlation between brain changes linked to key regions of the brain, as shown in the scans, and altruism in the computer game:
"The participants who were the most altruistic playing the computer game showed the greatest changes in brain activation in response to suffering. In the most altruistic participants, activation increased in the inferior parietal cortex (a region of the brain involved in empathy and understanding others), in the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex (a region involved in emotional control), and in the nucleus accumbens (a region involved in rewarding emotions). This may reflect that compassion training increases detection of others’ suffering through neural circuitry involved in empathic resonance and sharing others’ experiences. It also suggests that these individuals may have been learning to change their emotional response to a more caring response for the person in need. The participants in the control group either showed no relationship between their brain responses and their altruistic behavior or a negative relationship. "
As would be appropriate for researchers who study compassion, the Wisconsin group will let you download scripts or mp3s of their compassion training sessions if you register here: (It's a slightly odd system, in that you need to sign in, for free, and they e-mail you the link to the training 24 hours later.)

 I am going to keep my enthusiasm in check until I can actually see the full study, but in the meantime,  I've downloaded the compassion scripts and I'm going to give it a go this holiday season. It can't hurt, and who knows, maybe, just maybe, it's true -- that compassion CAN be taught (and the teaching of compassion can be scientifically studied and developed)...

Friday, October 31, 2014

Harnessing the Power of the Sun to Destroy a Village

The most divisive planning application to hit our village -- possibly EVER--has come to a head. As it happens, this is transpiring while I've been taking a marvelous "MOOC" (Massive Open Online Course) called The Science of Happiness (from UCal Berkeley's Greater Good Science Center).

At the beginning of the course, we learned about the importance of something called "social capital." I couldn't dismiss this as sociological mumbo-jumbo because it made too much darn sense. Plus it has huge implications for the health and welfare of our village--actually the happiness of people everywhere. But what's on my mind especially is my tiny village, right now, right here.

Social capital is the overall benefit that results from networks of trust and cooperation. In a village, that basically means neighborliness or keeping an eye out for other folks in big and small ways: working together on projects for charity--like the Famine Lunch; cooperating on projects to raise money for the village-- like Bonfire Night; or assisting with projects to benefit subsets of residents-- like a class to upgrade computer literacy for older folks. Social capital covers simple sociability and everyday kindness -- stopping to have a chat with a fellow dog-walker; retrieving their recycling box when the wind blows it into the street; picking up your neighbor's kid from school when you see he missed the bus. Maybe you take your neighbor some spiced nuts (you're welcome, Alf) or loan her your post-driver (thanks, Lynne!)

No one called it "social capital", but that is what led our village to rally to help residents of the four homes that were most affected by last winter's floods. People donated money, helped with cleanup and repairs, and provided alternative housing in the village--for several months--for the couple most severely affected. Village farmers and experts on the lay of the land spent hours helping with a plan to drain the floodwaters. When the main road was closed, we made arrangements to assure that a resident with medical needs would be able to get to the doctor. I'm sure there were dozens more acts of kindness during the floods that I will never hear about. People just got on with helping, because that's what we do here.

More signs of goodwill in the village include the turnout for events at the Village Hall and Fun Days on "The Rec" -- the wonderful playing fields and park in our village -- and support for art and history, including musical concerts; dragon tiles, mosaics, and a small stone carving; and interest in an archeological dig lead by the county archaeologist. We have a monthly needlework group and a weekly bowls club. We hosted a 'scratch' choir in the Village Hall this summer -- which raised an impressive sum for charity. The church has an occasional choir, the "Allerlooyas," which, like the cleaning and flower rotas, includes people who aren't members of the church. That's just what we do here, because we love our village and care for one another.

And that, as it turns out, is what would be called "high social capital." Beyond making our village the friendly, trusting place that accepted me as a foreigner and outsider these past seven years, high social capital has a host of important benefits. Sociologists have discovered that individuals living in communities with high trust enjoy: more active parental involvement with schools, higher student academic achievement, less crime, better health, greater longevity, higher voter turnout, fewer disparities between rich and poor, and reduced likelihood of economic decline.

Higher social capital is especially important for ageing populations because it helps preserve health and physical mobility as people grow older. High social capital means better health information, more frequent contact with people, and lower levels of disability. People in high-social-capital communities are more likely to volunteer and enjoy lower rates of depression, neuroticism, and Alzheimer's disease.

All this means Aller has been a great place to live. But right now, the social capital of my village is at risk in the battle over the controversial planning issue--a large solar park to be located on land rented from our village's most prominent farmer. Emotions are running high. There are threats and personal attacks, half-truths, exaggerations, assumptions, irrelevancies, and falsehoods -- all being dished up with passion and fervor in hopes of making the case for one side or the other.

I know from sad personal experience how these things go. My family's yard abuts the land of a rubber-crumb processing plant that was installed without planning permission. Folks at our end of the village opposed it for the noise and because it meant bringing a light-industrial plant--and all it requires for security, waste disposal, haulage... into a peaceful residential/agricultural area. The retroactive planning application was approved with conditions, but it was left to complaining neighbors to assure the conditions were met. We don't complain, because we see the plant owner as uncooperative and intimidating.

Call it NIMBYism, but I was devastated by the loss of peace and quiet in my garden. The wife and co-owner of the facility admitted at one point that they lived in fear of complaining neighbors, and felt rejected in the community. Years later, there is no love lost -- and limited circulation of social capital--at this end of the village. This mutual distrust disturbs my peace far more than the noise from the plant.

As discomforting as it may be, our spat over the rubber-crumb processing plant is minuscule compared to the solar park. As things are going now, the split in the village over that issue could potentially spell the end of civility, trust, and social capital throughout the village for decades.

Here's my plea to everyone in Aller: Please do everything in your power to preserve goodwill in the village, now and in the trying days ahead. The damage that will result if we fail to preserve our social capital will far outweigh the damage from EITHER building or not building the solar park.

How can you help with that? Here are some suggestions based on my "Science of Happiness" class and other readings:

  1. Pause to consider all the cooperation that you are grateful for in our village -- times you have been helped; times we've worked together to help others; groups and activities you've enjoyed. Consider, in particular, the help given to the village by people who do not share your views on the solar park.  This might mean consideration of the farmer's helping with the Great Crane and archeology projects; providing generous use of buildings and land for village and church events; and trying to improve the land for wildlife. Or this might mean consideration of many villagers' work in the many cooperative projects I've mentioned above. Count those blessings; express your gratitude.
  2. Consider the common values we share. I'll bet we all moved here for pretty much the same reasons. We love the place -- the peace, the rural character, the birds, the views, the agricultural contribution of the active farms, the walks, the fresh air, and the neighborhood full of trust, cooperation, and goodwill.
  3. Strive to see things from other points of view. Put yourself in the place of the farmer, worried about depletion of the soil, unpredictable prices for milk, and numerous uncontrollable forces, including animal diseases, legal liability for people on his land, and the weather. Put yourself in the place of the resident whose greatest treasure is the view out her window -- a view that could encompass thousands of large solar panels.
  4. Disagree respectfully. Treasure your neighbor. Try to be as kind and generous as possible, even if you don't share his viewpoint. Don't intimidate or shout him down.
  5. Don't exaggerate or misrepresent in making your case, and trust the folks on the other side to do the same. There is a strong case to be made for either side and economies of the truth are both unnecessary and likely to be remembered for a long time. Calmly accept that there really are people who don't think the views will be so awful and who do believe solar energy is more eco-friendly than fracking or nuclear power plants. There really will be sheep grazing between the solar panels. There really are people whose views and deeply-held sense of the sacred, historic site will be spoiled by the large solar installation. There are honest people who have good reason to distrust energy companies.
  6. Do not make threats of mischief, sabotage, or withdrawal of cooperation if you don't get what you want. Whether you do or don't carry out your threats, people will remember them and it will be much harder--if not impossible--to rebuild trust. No one wants to live in a village fearing they will be the next targets of malice.
  7. If you can see both sides -- or grounds for compromise -- or if you are somewhere on the fence, reach out to people to start laying the groundwork for reconciliation when this is over.
  8. Realize this psychological truth: in a year's time, the outcome of not getting your way will not be as bad as you now fear, and the benefits of getting your way will not be as great as you now expect. This is a psychological truth, and it holds for people on all sides of this issue, however it ends up. The only thing that could block you from enjoying that happy truth is tenacious lack of goodwill for the village and your neighbors.