These are the psychological tricks both sides of the EU debate are playing on you - and how to recognise them

What sounds worse: a shortfall of 6 per cent of GDP resulting from Brexit, or a loss of £4,300 per household?

Ben Chu in The Independent


Imagine you’re lucky. Imagine you receive £50 from a benefactor. But, oh dear, there’s a problem with the gift. It turns out too much was paid out. There has to be a financial correction. So you’re faced with a choice.

So would you rather keep £20? Or lose £30? Think very quickly. Did you initially lean towards keeping £20? Many people do. But of course they amount to the same thing. You’d still have £20 whichever option you picked.

So what’s going on? Why did £20 look more appealing? That’s the brain’s “system one” at work, according to psychologists. Studies show that the reactive human mind sees the “keep” flashing in red lights before there’s any mental arithmetic (even before trivial calculations such as subtracting £30 from £50). And the word “loss” is also deeply off-putting to the mind’s system one. A quick decision framed as a straight choice between “keep” and “lose” will usually see “lose” rejected.

The mental arithmetic is “system two” and it takes much longer to be activated in most of us than system one. Sadly, many of us don’t even bother activating system two before making decisions at all.

Advertisers are aware of this bias. That’s why they often frame propositions in terms of how much money people can keep rather than how much they’ve lost in the past. “Keep more of your savings income by opening an ISA”, “Keep more of your money when you shop with us”, and so on.

Political advertisers are on to it too. That’s why the Leave campaign ahead of June’s European Union referendum have been emphasising so heavily the prize of keeping the UK’s £13bn annual contribution to the EU Budget. They emphasise what we can keep by voting to leave. Yet the Remain campaign is familiar with this tactic too. That’s why they emphasise the 3m UK jobs “linked to trade with the rest of Europe”. We naturally want to keep all those jobs, don’t we?

Both claims are actually tendentious. The £13bn is the gross contribution of the UK to Brussels – it doesn’t account for the money the UK receives back. And it’s silly to imply that 3m jobs would disappear overnight in the event of a Brexit. That would only happen if all trade between Britain and the Continent came to a sudden halt – something no one seriously expects. But the campaigners are not really trying to impart useful information with their soundbites – they’re aiming at the system one part of your brain.

That’s by no means the only psychological bias battleground in this referendum campaign. Psychologists talk of the power of “framing”. Which sounds more appealing: 90 per cent fat-free or 10 per cent fat? Advertisers know the answer, which is why one never sees the latter formulation even though they describe the same product.

Now consider which sounds like a more compelling argument in the context of an EU membership vote. “Almost half of everything we sell to the rest of the world we sell to Europe,” says the Stronger in Europe campaign. “British reliance on trade with the EU has fallen to an all-time low,” proclaim the Outers. The fact that both sound compelling - and both describe the same statistics - shows that the two campaigns grasp the importance of framing.

There’s more. What sounds worse: a shortfall of 6 per cent of GDP resulting from Brexit, or a loss of £4,300 per household? For many people it will be the latter figure, heavily highlighted by George Osborne yesterday. But, again, they amount to the same thing. £4,300 is merely the 6 per cent of GDP translated into cash terms and divided by all the 26m households in the country.

So why does £4,300 sound more off-putting to most people? Here we have the “ratio bias” at work. In any ratio there is the numerator and the denominator. In the two statistics above “6” and “£4,400” are the numerators. And “GDP” and “per household” are the denominators. Studies show that the system one part of our brain is more sensitive to big numbers in the numerator of ratios, and often neglects the denominators. So £4,300 sets off larger movements in many brains because, quite simply, it’s a bigger sounding figure than 6.

Consider another example. Which is the more compelling fact: “200,000 UK businesses trade with the EU” or: “Only 6 per cent of UK firms export to the EU”? The first is from the Stronger in Europe website. The second is from Vote Leave. Here the Outers are trying to use the ratio bias to minimise the sense of importance of the EU as a trading partner for British firms - and the Inners are doing precisely the opposite.

We are profoundly influenced by the framing of statistics. Quite understandably, politicians and campaigners seek to manipulate your system one brain. “I just feel I don’t know who to trust and I need a voice I can trust,” said a member of a panel of “undecided” referendum voters on the BBC’s Newsnight last night. But that benign and trustworthy figure does not exist. The way the facts are laid out will depend on the way the person wants the facts to be framed. Asking for someone to do the job for you - and placing your trust in them - essentially means asking that person to steer you in one way or the other.

If people genuinely want to make up their minds without bias, they are on their own. And their only trustworthy guide is their own brain’s system two.

The difficulty in saying sorry

When we are criticised it hurts our feelings, but the pain goes much deeper than that, says Paul Randolph

 

Breaking point: Michael Douglas stars in 1993’s Falling Down. Photograph: Moviestore/REX/Shutterstock


Paul Randolph in The Guardian


Why do sensible and rational people seem to lose the ability to act sensibly and rationally when they are in conflict? What makes some families tear themselves apart in a variety of squabbles which to outsiders may seem petty but which result in family members not speaking to each other for years? What drives neighbours to blight their daily lives with unpleasant, bitter and confrontational disputes? And how can otherwise placid and restrained people become almost unrecognisable when involved in road rage incidents – or even trolley rage in supermarkets?

The answer may be distilled down to one psychological phenomenon: self-esteem. It is one of the strongest motivating factors in conflict and generates powerful emotions. We all have self-esteem, whether corporate or individual; we all have a need to think well of ourselves, and for others to think well of us. Self-esteem governs many of the decisions we make daily, as we expend huge amounts of time and effort constantly maintaining and protecting our self-image.

The flipside of our desire for approval is our aversion to disapproval – or worse still, our dread of humiliation. An example of this is the fear of public speaking – a dread that can be greater than that of flying or even of death. It is explained by the fact that the disapproval of each person in the audience constitutes a potentially significant attack on our self-image. The larger the audience, the more overwhelming is the prospect of humiliation.

There is now neurological evidence demonstrating the effect that attacks on our self-esteem have on the brain. One study showed that “social pain” activated the same circuits of the brain as physical pain. Consequently any attack on our self-image is interpreted by the brain as physical pain. When we speak of “hurt” feelings, we acknowledge that any form of censure, from slight criticism to outright condemnation or rejection, affects our self-esteem and is felt as physical pain – hence our aversion to admitting fault or to accepting liability. The word “sorry” is one of the most difficult to express, despite it being the quickest, cheapest and most effective form of resolving a dispute. But our brain seems to indicate to us that saying sorry will be as painful as putting our hand into a fire.

The ability to monitor neural pathways helps us to see how our brain functions in conflict situations. For example, we now have a neurological explanation of our “fight or flight” instinct. This reflex is governed by the amygdala, two small structures in the brain that control our instinctive responses. Originally needed as a part of our evolutionary development, they enabled us to act swiftly and instinctively in the face of physical attacks in the wild.

Today the amygdala can be triggered by any attack on our self-esteem. When the brain perceives a threat, whether physical or on our self-image, the amygdala “takes control”, diverting the signals away from the cortex, the “thinking” part of the brain. This “amygdala hijack” prevents us from engaging in logical or analytical thought, instead creating instant defensive reactions.

That is why we recoil at any allegation of fault, whether in business, within the family, behind the wheel of a car – or in the supermarket. It is an assault on our self-esteem, and it is painful. It is at these moments that we need to shrink our egos, to tell ourselves that our self-esteem is unnecessarily getting in the way, and that it is far more productive to try to see things from the other’s perspective.

Expecting Sehwag to do the unexpected

Siddhartha Vaidyanathan in Cricinfo

Opposition captains always feared: what if Sehwag gets going? Everyone else just learned to accept that he would forever surprise


Going up: Sehwag constantly turned traditional batting concepts on their head © AFP



The heart wishes Virender Sehwag had retired after a rousing Test, his team-mates chairing him off the ground, the crowd bidding him adieu with a standing ovation. The mind understands that this was never going to come to pass, that Sehwag's days as an international cricketer were long past, and that he would tweet the news of his exit (as he had promised late last year) and be off without a fuss.

The end was as abrupt as it was apt. Not for him a press conference bathed in emotion, or a speech that tugged at heartstrings. There was no grand felicitation, there were no teary goodbyes. Instead he went his own way, wrapping up with a tweet that started "I hereby… " and a statement that began, "To paraphrase Mark Twain…"

None of this should come as a surprise; to have experienced Sehwag's career is to have come to expect the unexpected. During times when conventional wisdom advised circumspection, he would blast off. Where other batsmen shut shop a few overs before stumps, he saw it as an opportunity to pick off boundaries. When opposition captains pushed mid-off and mid-on back, he didn't look at it as a chance for singles; instead he was determined to launch the ball over the fielders' heads. Where team-mates used the services of a nightwatchman, he deemed it an insult ("If I can't play for 25 minutes, I'm not much of a batsman.")

Stories of Sehwag's counter-intuition are legion. He once charged a medium-pace bowler in a Ranji Trophy game, swished wildly, and missed by more than a foot. That in itself should come as no surprise, except, as his former team-mate Aakash Chopra wrote on this website, it was little but an act. On "one of the worst pitches", Sehwag was actually trying to mess with the bowler's length. Sure enough, the trick rattled the opponent. The next two balls pitched short. And Sehwag smashed two fours.



Paul Harris ended up the loser in his contest with Sehwag in 2008 © Getty Images


The common refrain while talking about Sehwag's batting is how his approach was so simple, how the see-ball-hit-ball approach served him so well. This, of course, is partly true - he has himself acknowledged the value of clearing all clutter from the mind - but it is also somewhat reductionist. Sehwag might not have analysed ground conditions and wagon wheels with a high level of granularity (and, back in 2006, he might not have known about Pankaj Roy and Vinoo Mankad's record partnership) but he was far from unschooled. He analysed his innings and dismissals, and spoke to those he respected about technical glitches, taking on advice from openers as varied in approach as Sunil Gavaskar and Kris Srikkanth. He enjoyed chatting with psychologist Rudi Webster (he was especially curious to hear about the early struggles of Viv Richards, whom Webster likened Sehwag to) and sometimes surprised team-mates by reeling off names of bowlers he had faced in stray innings.

Most significantly he was astute enough to constantly upend traditional approaches to batting. Where Sachin Tendulkar was bogged down, padding away Ashley Giles bowling over the wicket, Sehwag backed away and slashed; charged diagonally and slashed; and, in what was little short of a tight slap across the bowler's face, reverse-swept without a care in the world. None of this was blind slogging; it was a planned assault to disrupt a bowler's rhythm, nullifying his negative tactics. Six years on, when another left-arm spinner targeted his pads, Sehwag challenged him: "Come round the wicket and first ball I'll hit you for a six." Paul Harris - with a long-off, long-on, deep midwicket and a deep point - accepted the dare. And sure enough, the first ball soared over the sightscreen.

Such provocation wasn't merely an instinctive flash of bravado. Like the smartest of bowlers, Sehwag understood when to needle the opposition and when to send out a message by shutting up. Against Australia in Chennai in 2004, he made friendly small-talk with some fielders as he walked off after the first day's play. But come the end of the fourth day, with India chasing a tricky target, he pounded a drive past Glenn McGrath and strode off, chin up, with a raging sense of purpose. "You have to show the other team that you're here to win," he would later say of that unforgettable walk-off.



Fury Road: Sehwag set up India's record chase against England in Chennai in 2008 © AFP


It has often been pointed out that Sehwag averaged slightly over 30 in the third and fourth innings of Tests with just one hundred, a stat used to demonstrate his frailty under "scoreboard pressure". What is not highlighted as much is that he averaged a mighty 65.91 in the second innings of Tests, with 12 hundreds - many of which came after the opposition had piled on massive scores. When New Zealand amassed 630 in Mohali in 2003, Sehwag responded with 130; when South Africa piled on 510 in Kanpur in 2004, he answered with 164; when Pakistan erected 679 in Lahore in 2006, he blitzed 254; and when South Africa put on 540 in Chennai in 2008, he smoked the fastest Test triple-hundred. As important as it is to celebrate Sehwag the match-winner, it's vital to hail Sehwag the match-saver: the opening batsman who drew games not by playing out time but by rollicking along at berserker pace, eliminating threats of India following on.

What this meant was that, despite his poor fourth-innings record, teams were often hesitant to declare in the third innings, the fear of "what if Sehwag gets going?" never far from their calculations. There is no stat to quantify the psychological effect that Sehwag had on fielding teams but an Ian Chappell quote from 2005 sums up the sentiment: "Sehwag can change the course of a match with the ease of Moses parting the Red Sea".

Over the years there were a number of innings when Sehwag parted the metaphorical Red Sea, but the apex of match-changeability arrived on that December afternoon in 2008 - a month after the terrorist attacks in Mumbai - when England set India 387 for victory in Chennai. The odds were grim. No team had chased more than 155 at the ground and no team had achieved a fourth-innings target of more than 276 at any Indian venue.

None of this mattered to Sehwag. He had begun the fourth day by telling Ravi Shastri, "We could easily chase 300-plus against England," and then gone on to burn the batting manual, juddering a 68-ball 83 to fire-start the chase. There were rasping upper cuts and swirling sixes; the short balls ending up in the V between point and third man, the full ones in the V between square leg and midwicket. It was a kind of innings that galvanises the team to dare to dream; an innings that sends shock waves through the fielding side; and an innings that makes ten-year-olds want to reach for their bats, getting them hooked to the game for good.

Once the win was achieved, Tendulkar was asked about Sehwag's mighty eruption. "We are quite used to that," he said with a smile. "You kind of expect something which is not expected."

He may as well have been summing up a once-in-a-lifetime career.

Psychology experiments are failing the replication test – for good reason

John Ioannidis in The Guardian

‘The replication failure rate of psychology seems to be in the same ballpark as those rates in observational epidemiology, cancer drug targets and preclinical research, and animal experiments.’ Photograph: Sebastian Kaulitzki/Alamy


Science is the best thing that has happened to humankind because its results can be questioned, retested, and demonstrated to be wrong. Science is not about proving at all cost some preconceived dogma. Conversely religious devotees, politicians, soccer fans, and pseudo-science quacks won’t allow their doctrines, promises, football clubs or bizarre claims to be proven illogical, exaggerated, second-rate or just absurd.

Despite this clear superiority of the scientific method, we researchers are still fallible humans. This week, an impressive collaboration of 270 investigators working for five years published in Science the results of their efforts to replicate 100 important results that had been previously published in three top psychology journals. The replicators worked closely with the original authors to make the repeat experiments close replicas of the originals. The results were bleak: 64% of the experiments could not be replicated.
We often feel uneasy about having our results probed for possible debunking. We don’t always exactly celebrate when we are proven wrong. For example, retracting published papers can take many years and many editors, lawyers, and whistleblowers – and most debunked published papers are never retracted. Moreover, with fierce competition for limited research funds and with millions of researchers struggling to make a living (publish, get grants, get promoted), we are under immense pressure to make “significant”, “innovative” discoveries. Many scientific fields are thus being flooded with claimed discoveries that nobody ever retests. Retesting (called replication) is discouraged. In most fields, no funding is given for what is pooh-poohed as me-too efforts. We are forced to hasten from one “significant” paper to the next without ever reassessing our previously claimed successes.

Multiple lines of evidence suggest this is a recipe for disaster, leading to a scientific literature littered with long chains of irreproducible results. Irreproducibility is rarely an issue of fraud. Simply having millions of hardworking scientists searching fervently and creatively in billions of analyses for something statistically significant can lead to very high rates of false-positives (red-herring claims about things that don’t exist) or inflated results.

This is more likely to happen in fields that chase subtle, complex phenomena, in those that have more noise in measurement, and where there is more room for subjective choices to be introduced in designing and running experiments and crunching the data. Ten years ago I tried to model these factors. These models predicted that in most scientific fields and settings the majority of published research, findings may be false. They also anticipated that the false rates could vary greatly (from almost 0% to almost 100%), depending on the features of a scientific discipline and how scientists run their work.

Probably the failure rate in the Science data would have been higher for work published in journals of lesser quality. There are tens of thousands of journals in the scientific-publishing market, and most will publish almost anything submitted to them. The failure rate may also be higher for studies that are so complex that none of the collaborating replicators offered to attempt a replication. This group accounted for one-third of the studies published in the three top journals. So the replication failure rate for psychology at large may be 80% or more overall.

This performance is even worse than I would have predicted. In 2012 my anticipation of a 53% replication failure rate for psychology at large was published. Compared with other empirical studies, the failure rate of psychology seems to be in the same ballpark as replication failure rates in observational epidemiology, cancer drug targets and preclinical research, and animal experiments.

However, I think it is important to focus on the positive side. The Science paper shows that large-scale replication efforts of high quality are doable even in fields like psychology where there was no strong replication culture until recently. Hopefully this successful, highly informative paradigm will help improve research practices in this field. Many other scientific fields without strong replication cultures may also be prompted now to embrace replications and reproducible research practices. Thus these seemingly disappointing results offer a great opportunity to strengthen scientific investigation. I look forward to celebrate one day when my claim that most published research findings are false is thoroughly refuted across most, if not all, scientific fields.

How to improve your luck and win the lottery twice (possibly)

Richard Wiseman in The Guardian

A British couple have just won £1m in the EuroMillions lottery for a remarkable second time. In doing so, they have beaten odds of more than 283 billion-to-one. So are they exceptionally lucky, and is there anything we can all do to increase the chances of experiencing such good fortune?

British couple celebrate winning second £1m EuroMillions prize

 

Read more

A few years ago I conducted a large-scale investigation into luck. I studied the lives of more than 400 people who considered themselves exceptionally lucky or unlucky. There was remarkable similarity among the volunteers, with the lucky people always being in the right place at the right time, while the unlucky volunteers experienced one disaster after another.

I asked everyone to keep diaries, complete personality tests and take part in experiments. The results revealed that luck is not a magical ability or the result of random chance. Nor are people born lucky or unlucky.

Instead, lucky and unlucky people create much of their good and bad luck by the way they think and behave. For example, in one study we asked our volunteers to look through a newspaper and count the number of photographs in it. However, we didn’t tell them that we had placed two lucky opportunities in the newspaper. The first opportunity was a half-page advert clearly stating: “STOP COUNTING. THERE ARE 43 PHOTOGRAPHS IN THIS NEWSPAPER.” While a second advert later on said: “TELL THE EXPERIMENTER YOU’VE SEEN THIS AND WIN £150.”

The lucky people tended to be very relaxed, more likely to see the bigger picture, and so quickly spotted these opportunities. In contrast, the unlucky people tended to be very anxious, more focused on detail, and so missed the advertisments. Without realising it, both groups had created their own good and bad fortune.

Eventually we uncovered four key psychological principles at work in lucky people:

1. They create and notice opportunities by building a strong social network, developing a relaxed attitude to life, and being open to change.

2. They tend to often listen to their intuition and act quickly. In contrast, unlucky people tend to overanalyse situations and are afraid to act.

3. They are confident that the future will be bright, and these expectations become self-fulfilling prophecies because they help motivate lucky people to try even when the odds are against them. Unlucky people are sure that they will fail and so often give up before they have begun.

4. They are highly resilient, and keep going in the face of failure and learn from past mistakes. Unlucky people get dragged down by the smallest of problems and take responsibility for events outside of their control.

Lucky people tend to be very relaxed, more likely to see the bigger picture

In a second phase of the project, I wanted to discover whether it was possible to change people’s luck. I asked a group of 200 volunteers to incorporate the four key principles into their lives by thinking and behaving like a lucky person. The results were remarkable. Within a few months around two-thirds of the group became happier, healthier and more successful in their careers.

But is it possible to use these techniques to win the lottery? Unfortunately not. Lotteries are purely chance events, and no amount of wishful thinking will influence your chances of success. However, the good news is that being lucky in your personal life and career is far more important than winning the lottery.

Oh, and one last tip. If you are feeling bad about never hitting the jackpot, spare a thought for Maureen Wilcox who, in 1980, bought tickets for both the Massachusetts lottery and the Rhode Island lottery. Incredibly Maureen managed to choose the winning numbers for both lotteries. Unfortunately her Massachusetts numbers won the Rhode Island lottery and her Rhode Island numbers won the Massachusetts lottery. She didn’t win a penny.

Life getting you down? Learn to bounce back

Even the most fortunate of us can expect setbacks every now and again. Here are some ways to get back on your feet

• Vanessa King
• theguardian.com, Monday 5 January 2015 16.59 GMT

‘When things go wrong, resilient thinkers see it as transitory.’ Photograph: Getty Images

“That which does not kill us makes us stronger” – so the German philosopher Nietzsche famously said. Luckily, the school of hard knocks isn’t the only way to build our resilience. There are a number of tactics that can get us through tough times, help us to bounce back and make us happier. Next time you are struggling, feeling stressed or stuck, give one or more of these a try.

1. Find something you can control (even if it’s small)

Often when we are struggling we can feel overwhelmed or powerless. And it’s true: there are lots of things in life that we can’t control, including big challenges such as redundancy or broken relationships or bereavement. But taking small, positive steps in any area of our life can have a ripple effect, increasing our sense of self-efficacy and eventually enabling us to move forward in the problem area.

2. Focus on what’s right

As a species, we tend to focus on what’s wrong rather than what’s right. Psychologists suggest we developed this “negativity bias” when we were hunter-gatherers, constantly surveying our environment for dangers.

Of course looking out for risks is still important, but we can benefit from paying more conscious attention to what’s going right. In one experiment psychologists asked people to spend a few minutes at the end of each day for a week, making a note of three things they enjoyed, were pleased about or grateful for that day and the reason they found these things good. At the end of the study, participants who did this were happier than those who didn’t – and this effect lasted for as long as six months.

This isn’t about putting on rose-tinted glasses – it’s about a more balanced perspective. Good things happen even on the worst days, even if these are as small as someone making us a nice cup of tea, yet we often let them pass by without much attention. Psychologists have shown that consciously focusing on these good things helps to increase our experience of positive emotions. Over time this has a number of benefits for our resilience and wellbeing as, for example, we become more open to ideas, better at problem-solving and more trusting of others.

3. Check your thinking

Albert Ellis, one of the fathers of cognitive behavioural therapy, wrote that we are remarkably good at disturbing ourselves – in other words, the way we think can undermine our own resilience.

Let’s look at an example: the way we think when things go wrong in our day-to-day lives. Leading psychologist Martin Seligman found that the way we interpret the causes of everyday setbacks can have a significant impact on our ability to cope, our physical health and our persistence in the face of adversity. He also showed that we can learn more resilient thinking styles.

Seligman looked at three key dimensions to our interpretations:

Is it down to me? When bad things happen, resilient thinkers tend to focus on causes outside themselves. For example, if they miss a deadline they will look at the computer issues they had or the other pressing jobs they had to do, rather than only beating themselves up for being late.

How long will this problem last? When things go wrong, resilient thinkers see it as transitory, perhaps thinking: “It didn’t work this time, but next time it will be better.” Someone with a less resilient thinking style might believe it will always be that way: “It didn’t work this time, and it’s never going to.”

What other aspects of my life will this affect? When something goes wrong in one area of a resilient thinker’s life, they put boundaries around the issue, limiting it to that specific area – for example: “I went the wrong way; I find following directions hard.” We can undermine our resilience if we see the problem as spreading out to everything: “I went the wrong way. That’s typical of me – I’m no good at anything.”

This isn’t about being unrealistic or not taking responsibility when problems occur, but about being realistic and flexible in our thoughts about why these issues happened. If we are stressed or down, we can all too easily fall into the trap of thinking that everything is our fault, can’t be changed and trouble will spread to all areas of our life. This makes us feel hopeless and can start a downward spiral towards lower resilience and even depression.

So the next time something goes wrong for you, pause for a moment and think realistically: how did I, others or the situation contribute to this? What can I do that will help now or stop the problem occurring again?

4. Ask others to help

When we have problems, it is very easy to feel isolated. We are bombarded by images of people with perfect lives or who have achieved great things, which can make us feel we’re not good enough or even ashamed that we are struggling. Remember the saying “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle inside” and don’t be afraid to ask for help. We all have ups and downs, strengths and weaknesses, and connecting with other people is a source of resilience.

Human beings evolved to live in social groups. Our relationships with those around us are really important for our wellbeing and resilience (and that of our communities). By asking for help we are showing that we value and respect other people. Scientists are also finding that the act of helping actually boosts the helper’s own wellbeing. Showing our vulnerability makes others see us as human, making them feel more able to ask us for help when they need it, so building the relationship. This helps to increase wellbeing and resilience for both of you.

Your request doesn’t have to place a burden on the other person – it could be as simple as asking them to listen, share their experience, knowledge or ideas to help you move forward, or perhaps make a connection to someone they know. You could even offer to help them with something in return (that could help you too).

5. Distract yourself

It often helps to take time out from the things you are worrying about – even if it’s just a few minutes.

When we are immersed in a problem it is hard to think creatively about ways to deal with it. How many times have your best ideas come when you’ve been in the shower or tidying up? Our brains are amazing organs – they are still working on issues even when we aren’t consciously focusing on them. In fact, allowing time off from the thing we’re grappling with can work wonders.

An effective ways of taking time out is exercise. Not only does this give us a break from what we’re doing and our worries; it’s also great for our minds. Anything moderately aerobic, such as jogging or simply a brisk walk, has a physical impact on our brain, helping us to think more clearly.

Much has been written about mindfulness, and this can be very effective way to boost our resilience. Even a few minutes can give us a little space from our worries and help put things in perspective.

Take time to laugh. We have already looked at the benefits of positive emotions. Years ago I trained as an accountant (we can all make career mistakes). This involved doing a lot of difficult exams and a lot of pre-exam nerves. To deal with that anxiety, my friend Siobhan, who was doing the same training, had a tactic that we all thought was mad at the time but, based on recent psychological research, turned out to be a good one. Outside the exam room, as we waited to meet our destiny, Siobhan would immerse herself in a joke book. She said it helped to put her in an upbeat frame of mind, ready to focus in the exams (which she went on to pass).

And finally, if you can’t get to sleep because your mind won’t switch off, find a way to distract it – for example, counting back from 100 in threes or going through the alphabet trying to think of as many animals/actors/footballers (you choose the topic) for each letter as you can.

How to be fitter, happier and more successful: stop dreaming and start getting real

You can’t always get what you want, but if you try some negative thinking, you might get that promotion you actually need

• 
• • Oliver Burkeman
  •  
  • theguardian.com, Thursday 16 October 2014 13.15 BST

‘Daydreaming can be great,’ Gabriele Oettingen says. ‘Positive dreaming is problematic, because it feigns that you’ve already attained these desired futures.’ Illustration: Allan Ajifo / flickr via Creative Commons

In 2011, the New York University psychologist Gabriele Oettingen published the results of an elegant study, conducted with her colleague Heather Kappes, in which participants were deprived of water. Some of these parched volunteers were then taken through a guided visualisation exercise, in which they were asked to picture an icy glass of water, the very thing they presumably craved. Afterwards, by measuring everyone’s blood pressure, Oettingen discovered that the exercise had drained people’s energy levels, and made them relax. The implication is startling: picturing an imaginary glass of water might make people less motivated to get up and head to the watercooler or the tap in order to quench their real, non-imaginary thirst.

This conclusion is precisely the reverse of one of the central tenets of pop psychology: the idea that picturing the future you desire makes it more likely you’ll attain it. Again and again, in her research, Oettingen has shown that making a fantasy of something you want can make it harder to achieve in reality. Imagine yourself having a productive week, and you’ll accomplish less. Imagine receiving a windfall of cash, and you’ll be less motivated to engage in the kinds of activities that might bring you money. Intriguingly – though admittedly the link may not be causal – there’s even a relationship between how much “positive thinking” language American presidents use in their inaugural speeches, and how much unemployment rates change by the end of their presidential terms. The more positive the fantasy about the future, the fewer jobs in real life.

Fist-pumping motivational gurus have long claimed that your brain “can’t distinguish between reality and imagination”. Ironically, Oettingen’s experiments show they’re right about that – but also that the conclusion they draw is spectacularly wrong. Attempting to “experience your success as if it had already materialized” is a fast-track to disappointment.

Thankfully, not all kinds of thinking about the future are quite so self-sabotaging. In Oettingen’s new book, Rethinking Positive Thinking, published in the US on Thursday and elsewhere next month, she makes the case for “mental contrasting”, a technique that involves methodically combining positive and negative thoughts about your own future, in a way that seems to work strikingly well if you’re trying to replace bad habits or mindsets with good ones. Over the last decade, in studies conducted by Oettingen and other researchers, mental contrasting has been shown to double the amount of exercise people engage in; to increase their fruit and vegetable intake by 30%; and to help people suffering from chronic pain become more physically active. When low-income schoolchildren in Germany and the US were trained briefly in the method, it led to increased school attendance and better academic performance.

The technique’s full formal name is less than catchy – “mental contrasting with implementation intentions” – so in her book, Oettingen rebrands it as “Woop”, for “wish, outcome, obstacle, plan”. The acronym sets out the four stages of the process. First, spend a minute or two thinking in detail about something you wish to accomplish; second, vividly imagine the best thing you associate with having achieved that outcome. (That “best thing” might be an emotion, a promotion, praise – anything, really.) Third, ask yourself what internal obstacle’s most likely to get in the way. (This isn’t about your boss, or your spouse, so much as that weakness inside you that holds you back from better pay or a better relationship.) Finally, formulate an “if-then” plan for what you’ll do when that obstacle arises. (“If I find myself feeling terrified when I stand up in front of the audience, then I’ll recall how diligently I’ve rehearsed.” “If I find myself checking Twitter, I’ll get up from my desk immediately.”)

There’s nothing wrong with a bit of positive daydreaming if it makes you feel good, so long as you don’t expect anything more than feeling good. “Daydreaming can be great!” Oettingen told me the other day. “It’s only when it comes to actually realizing these dreams that positive dreaming is problematic, because it feigns that you’ve already attained these desired futures. You relax, your energy goes down. It’s a question of: ‘Why face the hardships of the bumpy road to achieving these things in real life, if you can float away on dreams?’”

Mental contrasting retains the most useful part of positive fantasies: it clarifies what you want, and reminds you how good it can feel to attain, say, a pay increase, a new job, a smaller waistline or a happier relationship. But then it exploits the motivating power of knowing what you have not yet attained – that there’s serious ground you’ll have to cover. (Getting fit, improving a marriage, making more money – it all takes work.) Finally, the Wooping technique nudges you to plan in advance for what you’ll do once, inevitably, your own flawed personality gets in the way.

And so mental contrasting pushes back against one of the great, disempowering lies of positive thinking: that transformative change, personal or societal, can be made effortless. It can’t. In fact, Oettingen’s research suggests, convincing yourself that life’s meant to be easy just makes it appreciably harder. The best way to quench your thirst for change, it seems, is to remind yourself that the glass is still half empty.

Debunking the Myers-Briggs personality test

By Anthony Zurcher Editor, Echo Chambers 

The popular Myers-Briggs personality test is a joke, writes Vox's Joseph Stromberg. While it might be a fun way to pass the time, he says, it has about as much insight and validity as a Buzzfeed quiz.

The test, taken by an estimated 2 million people each year, has been around since the 1940s and is based on the observations of psychologist Carl Jung. Through a battery of 93 questions, it classifies test-takers into one of 16 personality types based on four sets of binary characteristics: introvert/extrovert, intuitive/sensory, feeling/thinking and judging/perceiving.

"Several analyses have shown the test is totally ineffective at predicting people's success in various jobs, and that about half of the people who take it twice get different results each time," Stromberg writes.

Stromberg says one of the key flaws to the test is that it relies on "limited binaries". Most humans, he says, fall along a spectrum and are not easily classified into opposite choices. People aren't exclusively extroverts or introverts - and where they fall on the spectrum can fluctuate widely based on how they are feeling at the moment.

Most psychologists have long since abandoned Myers-Briggs, if they ever gave it any credence at all, Stromberg continues.

Instead, he says, Myers-Briggs lives on as a revenue generator for CPP, the company that owns the rights to the test. It makes an estimated $20m (£11.6m) a year by charging people $15 to $40 to take the survey and certifying test administrators for $1,700.

Stromberg explains why people are willing to pay such a steep fee to get the official Myers-Briggs imprimatur:

"Once you have that title, you can sell your services as a career coach to both people looking for work and the thousands of major companies - such as McKinsey & Co., General Motors, and a reported 89 of the Fortune 100 - that use the test to separate employees and potential hires into 'types' and assign them appropriate training programs and responsibilities."

Even the US government, including the state department and the Central Intelligence Agency, uses Myers-Briggs - a waste of taxpayer money, Stromberg says.

He concludes:

"It's 2014. Thousands of professional psychologists have evaluated the century-old Myers-Briggs, found it to be inaccurate and arbitrary, and devised better systems for evaluating personality. Let's stop using this outdated measure - which has about as much scientific validity as your astrological sign - and move on to something else."

In a statement provided to the BBC, CPP president Jeffrey Hayes defends the test's validity.

"It's the world's most popular personality assessment largely because people find it useful and empowering, and much criticism of it stems from misunderstanding regarding its purpose and design," he says. "It is not, and was never intended to be predictive, and should never be used for hiring, screening or to dictate life decisions."

He says that organisations rely on the test "for its practical benefits in career development, conflict-handling, team building and leadership development".

Why I have no truck with the art of the pick-up

Pick-up artists exist to help men find sexual partners but their psychosexual babble is riddled with misogyny and bad advice

• 
• • Ally Fogg
  • guardian.co.uk, Monday 24 June 2013 11.09 BST

Studying Austin Powers at work in The Spy Who Shagged Me could do more for your sex life than a pick-up artist, says Ally Fogg. But what has worked for you? Photograph: Everett Collection/Rex Features

I blame Transformers. Many of my fellow heterosexual men appear to approach potential romantic partners as if they were those complicated robotic toys with a special hidden feature. All you need to do is turn her head just enough, raise her eyebrows, utter the secret password and woop woop woop: a siren sounds, her nipples start flashing and she instantly transforms into your own personal sex machine – Bonktamus Prime.

Having met one or two real, actual women in my time, I'm not sure they operate like that. They're rather complicated creatures, with all sorts of varied and conflicting character traits, moods, tastes, preferences, senses of humour and sexualities. It's almost like they are human beings or something.

Nonetheless an astonishingly large industry has built up online over the past decade, promising to help lonely men find the elusive sex button. It's not surprising that self-styled pick-up artists (PUAs) have found a market. They offer perfect psychosexual snake-oil, cashing in on the gullibility of the desperate. Their potions are dressed up in a frilly blanket of pseudoscience, snippets of social and evolutionary psychology, stage mentalism, neurolinguistic programming and self-referential received wisdom. It is mostly marketed through far-fetched personal testimony and miraculous anecdote. Most importantly, there are so many different models offered, so many conflicting "treatments" for low sex appeal, that unsatisfied customers can drift endlessly from one treatment to the next in search of the magic sex switch.

Nonetheless, PUAs have a few PR issues to deal with. Last week a Kickstarter appeal to fund a new PUA book came to widespread attention when it was noticed that the proposed content of the book – the collected wisdom of the Reddit community called r/seduction and in particular the contributions of a certain Mr TofuTofu – were peppered with the most gruesomely misogynistic advice. Alex Hern at the New Statesman outlined the worst of it. Kickstarter has now removed the post and apologised, saying "the project has no place on our site".

The proposed book was horrible, but even the more mundane threads on PUA forums are peppered with nastiness. The phrase "last-minute resistance" is used in discussions of how not to take no for an answer. The PUAs insist that their advice is always framed with discussion of consent and respecting a woman's right to refuse, and it is true. However that often seems to boil down to "back off until she stops screaming and then try again". The PUA typically describes consent as a final inconvenient hurdle rather than the starting blocks of any sexual event.

PUA techniques are certainly manipulative, but that in itself isn't the greatest sin. A lot of the advice is a gender-mirrored reflection of the dating advice columns that have filled women's magazines and self-help books for decades. However there is an important difference. PUAs often advocate intrusive, oppressive and sexually intimidating techniques for approaching women, on the promise that it will work on perhaps one woman in 10. Even if that were true, it would mean that nine out of 10 women are being subjected to approaches they may feel are discomfiting, harassing or downright frightening. Where is the concern about the impacts of this behaviour on the other women? Nowhere.

To be fair, there are PUAs who recognise at least some of these problems, and attempt to incorporate some basic human sensitivity. It should also be noted that there may be constructive sides to the PUA experience. Feminist writer Clarisse Thorn has documented the scene with compassion and sympathy, and notes that the community often acts as a kind of self-help and personal development network for socially awkward, shy and unhappy men – something Neil Strauss, author of The Game and original PUA guru has always advocated.

The social support networks may be a major reason why so many men claim PUA tricks have worked for them – just as many homeopathy patients insist on their own positive experiences. A parable featuring the greatest of all PUAs illustrates this well.

As I'm sure you'll recall from your classics lectures, in The Spy Who Shagged Me, the great philosopher, spy and international man of venery, Austin Powers was cast into sexual inconsequence when the evil Fat Bastard stole his mojo during an encounter with Ivana Humpalot. Ninety minutes and several dance routines later, he learned the valuable lesson that it wasn't his mojo that he was missing, but his confidence.

So my advice, for what it's worth ($49.99 to my Paypal account, as it happens) is to abandon the PUA gurus and study the master Powers at work. Things will soon be utterly shagtastic for you, baby. What advice would you share? Whether you are male or female, what has worked for you, or worked on you? Let's see if the seductive hive mind of Comment is free can put the commercial PUAs out of business once and for all.

What lies beneath the mask of marriage

The dynamics of any couple - like that between Charles Saatchi and his wife Nigella Lawson - are hard to fathom, but conflict can be deceptively subtle

Charles Saatchi and Nigella Lawson: their row has ignited an important debate Photo: Alan Davidson

By Kate Figes in The Telegrapg

6:20AM BST 19 Jun 2013

The photographs were indeed shocking. Charles Saatchi’s large hand around his wife Nigella’s Lawson’s throat as they sat having an alfresco lunch at Scott’s in Mayfair, London. It’s the haunting look of deep fear in Nigella’s eyes that suggests this is more than just a “playful tiff”, as Saatchi subsequently said, hours before receiving a police caution for assault. Nigella, who has moved out of the family home, temporarily at least, is nowhere to be seen.

The media storm surrounding these photos has highlighted what those helping the victims of domestic abuse have known for a long time – that it can affect couples of every social strata, even seemingly confident and successful women who have the means to leave. Domestic violence is one of the most unreported and misunderstood crimes. Two women a week are killed by someone they know well. Countless others live silently in fear for years of what their partner might do to them should they leave.
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But perhaps what these pictures prove best is our confusion around what domestic violence actually is. In the past two days there have been mountains of speculation around the Saatchi-Lawson marriage: Saatchi’s temperament (he’s “explosive”) and Nigella’s troubled past (her mother would “shout and say 'I’m going to hit you till you cry’ ”) have been cited in an attempt to explain what must surely have been an exception rather than the rule. We don’t want to believe otherwise from such a golden couple.

But a celebrity union is no different from any other marriage, and is just as prone to the wielding of power and control, which is of course the substance of most abuse. The black eyes, the woman beaten about so badly that she is forced to seek refuge with her children in an anonymous safe house is just the thin end of the wedge.

Within all relationships there is the potential for abuse because it can be so subtle. Most domestic abuse is emotional or psychological long before it becomes physical, with men and indeed women chipping away at the other person’s sense of self and self-confidence in small but significant ways. Over time, with enough undermining day after day, one makes the other feel so bad about themselves that they believe it when their partner says that nobody else could possibly want them, or love them like they do. 

Victims of abuse are often blamed for everything, shamed or humiliated in public. Their partner makes all the decisions or they find themselves increasingly isolated from family, friends or other sources of support. “It’s the insidious level of control, the petty enforcement of rules – anything from how you wrap up the cheese when you put it back in the fridge to how you close the car door,” one married woman told me for my book Couples: The Truth. “And you think this is just a small thing; OK, I will do that because it doesn’t matter. Now I can see that what I was giving him was power. That was before he started smashing up the furniture when he got angry, and then hitting me.”

Domestic abuse can be economic or financial as spouses (usually men, because they earn more) withhold money or credit cards, make a woman account for every penny she spends, or prevent her from having a job or pursuing her own career. And abuse can be sexual, not just in the form of marital rape or pressurising someone into sexual practices they would rather avoid, but also by withholding sex.

I will never forget one young woman I interviewed whose husband refused to have sex with her for four years. “He has killed my self-confidence because I feel completely unacknowledged as a woman, and humiliated, too, dressing up for him in sexy underwear and still being rejected. If he had been knocking me about for four years that would be acknowledged as unacceptable controlling behaviour, but this isn’t.”

Affairs, too, are often a form of abuse, taunting a spouse with the evidence but denying that anything is going on. Instead, accusations of paranoia are hurled back at the victim, dismantling their psyche still further.

Abuse builds when one person in a couple consistently tries to exert that dominance, through intimidation, threats, anger and violence against furniture and walls. There are arguments in every relationship. But there is a fine line between healthy, constructive disagreements that allow people to air resentments and express what they want, and destructive rows full of character assassination and blame.

When a strong man has an anger-management problem, women understandably feel compromised about standing up for themselves. Arguing back could make matters worse. Nigella has been quoted as saying about her marriage: “I’ll go quiet when he explodes and then I am a nest of horrible festeringness.”

No one can really understand what goes on in another person’s relationship. One’s own is enough of a mystery. But if I were to turn back the clock seven years and write my two books on relationships again, I would probably structure them differently around the subtleties of abuse because of what I now know.

What is clear to me is that we find it so hard to understand the very fine line between common relationship difficulties and abusive patterns of behaviour when we are in love with someone, and when there are so many other ties that bind us such as children, reputation, lack of money and not wanting to be alone.

“Why doesn’t she just leave?” is a naive statement and one that won’t help Nigella, or any other woman in a relationship with an “explosive” man whom she probably still loves.

Our ignorance about abuse is also compounded by the taboos surrounding relationships and family life. We believe our private lives should be kept private. We shouldn’t interfere in other people’s problems. People took photographs of Charles and Nigella, but nobody approached the table to ask if they were all right. And it is this hidden nature of family life that makes abuse harder to live with and 

harder to talk about. For a successful woman, just admitting that there have been abusive situations is tantamount to failure. And so, so shaming.

I wish them both well. Perhaps the most hopeful legacy from this whole sorry affair will be greater transparency about how common abuse can be. But I also believe that too many people lack the key tools to help them build their relationships from the inside, which in turn allows abuse to flourish. We can’t trust everything to love.