Through the Prism

After passing through the prism, each refraction contains some pure essence of the light, but only an incomplete part. We will always experience some aspect of reality, of the Truth, but only from our perspectives as they are colored by who and where we are. Others will know a different color and none will see the whole, complete light. These are my musings from my particular refraction.

9.03.2022

The Acquired Sociopathy of Power


I recently wrote, in a conversation about how adults don't treat children with the same respect they treat other adults:
To me it all seems based in a power imbalance (real or perceived). Adults see children as lesser beings, so they treat them differently than they would other adults. Just as you DO see adults who feel more powerful--for job position, maleness, race, etc.--treating other adults they view as lesser in a way similar to how they treat children; less deserving of respect, more deserving of rudeness, unkindness, and demands. Power imbalance. I know when I feel most frustrated with my children--when I can make myself stop and reflect--I realize I'm frustrated because they are not being subservient and obedient to my wishes--that they're not submitting to the power I want to have over them. I don't feel that kind of frustration with other adults.
A few days later, I read:
People in power display the same tendencies [as those diagnosed with 'acquired sociopathy']. They literally act like someone with brain damage. Not only are they more impulsive, self-centred, reckless, arrogant and rude than average, they are more likely to cheat on their spouses, are less attentive to other people and less interested in others' perspectives. They're also more shameless, often failing to manifest that one facial phenomenon that makes human beings unique among primates.

They don't blush.

Power appears to work like an anaesthetic that makes you insensate to other people. . . . 

One of the effects of power, myriad studies show, is that it makes you see others in a negative light. If you're powerful you're more likely to think most people are lazy and unreliable. That they need to be supervised and monitored, managed and regulated, censored and told what to do. And because power makes you feel superior to other people, you'll believe all this monitoring should be entrusted to you.
That's from the book Humankind: A Hopeful History by Rutger Bregman. More on it later. Bregman writes mainly about the power that bosses have over their workers, but I think the dynamic transfers to all situations of power--and, as I said, both real and perceived. Adults with power over children. Caregivers over the elderly. Men over women in patriarchal societies. As a dynamic of racism. On and on. When one person believes they hold a position of power compared to another person, it automatically causes them to dehumanize that other. To believe, at least on some level, that person is "other," is a lesser type of being. Less deserving of respect, empathy, and compassion. Less trustworthy. All because of power. Of a power imbalance.


For context, here is the full exchange we had on Facebook. An overseas friend shared this image:


They led with this introduction:
this is good. would work well with tiny [their son]. i always tell people to let him be invisible until he decides to make himself visible: let him feel like he can observe while totally unobserved, and just let him see you be kind and friendly for a bit.
And the image came with this explanation:

Some adults seem to have a hard time accepting that children don’t always want to talk to them. They act like making a child engage or smile or laugh or just react is part of some mission in their mind that they must achieve. Or perhaps social norms about “politeness” forces adults into a child’s space. 

Whatever it is, may I introduce what I call The Cat Approach. You may already do this without even realising and your points along the left hand side may differ from mine, but this is how I approach both cats and children. I just be myself and let them choose their level of interaction, and to me this feels the most natural and respectful way to be. 

And if someone doesn’t know how to be respectful to a timid cat, you should probably be wary of them 🙀😸🧠💜

**** Do I really have to put a disclaimer about this being my own interpretation of addressing cats and ‘shy’ children and that yours may differ?? Probably. It’s the internet 🙃😆****

[Image text: “The Cat Approach

For those children who are 'shy' or 'anxious' around new people. You modify your behaviour as if you were dealing with a timid cat... 

Low key minimal recognition.

Little to no eye contact.

Give a lot of physical space.

Indirect talking without using their name.”]
It reminded me of one of my favorite quotes from a book, from the introduction to The Well-Dressed Ape: A Natural History of Myself by Hannah Holmes, which I shared.
I am one of those people with a reputation for being a "natural" with children. Because I produced none of my own, my friends often make the observation with an air of puzzlement, after I've beguiled their offspring out of a sulk or into a game quieter than hurling pot lids.

The honest explanation has seemed too impolite to share: Of course I'm fluent in child. I've spent my whole life around wild animals. . . .

This is why I don’t find children baffling. They are young animals, unrefined in their instincts and impulses. If an animal is shy, I don’t gaze or grab at it, because those gestures are predatory. Instead, I avert my eyes and display something enticing. To avoid frightening the young human who has approached, it’s essential to project positive feelings. When a horse detects the stiffening of a fearful rider, the horse tenses because it has evolved to respect any indication of danger. Inversely, a fearful horse can be soothed by a rider who is at ease. And so it is with the young human: He monitors other humans for hesitations, signs of doubt, signs of danger. I try not to embody any. Thus, by exploiting an animal’s instincts, it’s possible to manipulate its behavior to suit yourself.
The friend and a few of their friends responded:
people are so weird with kids, right? imagine greeting an adult the way people greet children: WELL HELLOOOOO THERE, BUDDY!!! HOW ARE YOU TODAY?! WHAT IS *YOUR* NAME?! WOULD YOU LIKE TO PLAY A GAME?! most adults would run for the hills at such a greeting from a stranger; why should we expect kids to be any different?

-

This. Also, sure you have to make sure kids are safe and okay, but kids are under no obligation to like or adore you or find you exciting and compelling just because you are in their space, old, and often giant.

-

or even talk to you. yep totally. just generally, we all tend to forget that in pretty much 100% of the situations kids find themselves in, they have not (validly, efficaciously) consented to be in that situation; they are not obliged to be amiable.
To which I shared another book quote:
The mistake of every young person is to think they're the only ones who see darkness and hardship in the world. . . . 

The mistake of every adult, though, is to think darkness and hardship aren't important to young people because we'll grow out of it. Who cares if we will? Life is happening to us now, just like it's happening to you.

And then followed with my thought about power:
To me it all seems based in a power imbalance (real or perceived). Adults see children as lesser beings, so they treat them differently than they would other adults. Just as you DO see adults who feel more powerful--for job position, maleness, race, etc.--treating other adults they view as lesser in a way similar to how they treat children; less deserving of respect, more deserving of rudeness, unkindness, and demands. Power imbalance. I know when I feel most frustrated with my children--when I can make myself stop and reflect--I realize I'm frustrated because they are not being subservient and obedient to my wishes--that they're not submitting to the power I want to have over them. I don't feel that kind of frustration with other adults.
And then I included a link to the article Why Aren’t We Rude to Grown-ups the Way We Are Rude to Kids?, which I shared a few years back in Connecting Seemingly Disparate Fields of Knowledge. An excerpt:
Even the most well-behaved kids get talked to this way every single day. Our collective inability to treat kids with basic respect provides one consistent message: you’re irritating and in the way.

I, however, don’t get spoken to the way kids do. People just…don’t shout at me. I honestly don’t remember the last time anyone spoke to me the way I heard literally dozens of kids being spoken to throughout the day in a variety of settings yesterday. Not when I’m at home. Not when I was employed. Not when I’m on the subway. Not when I make mistakes. Not when I’m a bit lazy. Not when I skip out on brushing my teeth before bed. Not when I lean back in my chair. I’m not a particularly intimidating person, but people don’t roll their eyes and grit their teeth and talk to me like it’s all they can manage to just keep from punching me in my big, fat, stupid face.

I also don’t remember the last time I spoke to another adult that way, but I probably raised my voice or spoke impatiently to my kids yesterday. I don’t remember because, honestly, it wouldn’t really stand out as unusual. . . .
It's because of the power imbalance. Adults feel the power we have over children allows us to treat them as lesser beings. Less power means less worth, less respect, less dignity. Lesser.

(I should have added to the Facebook discussion that I've had a long history of using "The Cat Approach" with children as youth services librarian. And with animals. It works.)


This seems related.

Roessler recently led a study that found jumping spiders experience something like rapid eye movement sleep when they rest at night. . . . 

The team filmed jumping spiders overnight and observed behaviors that mirror REM sleep in other species. . . . 

REM-like activity has been observed in almost all mammals and birds, as well as some insects and cephalopods.
One of the big things wrong with the world is how humans believe other creatures--and all of nature--are lesser. We view them with sociopathy--a pattern of antisocial behaviors and attitudes, including manipulation, deceit, aggression, and a lack of empathy for others.


Also related, from my biased position.

Social-emotional learning — often referred to by its acronym, SEL — existed in Kansas classrooms ever since the one-room schoolhouse. Teachers have long encouraged children to try hard, set goals, control their anger and treat others with respect. . . . 
The same curriculum strikes conservatives as a back-door way for secularists to promote gay rights, racial guilt and something that blurs fundamental differences between boys and girls. . . . 
“If you ask a parent, ‘Would you like your child to work well with others? Would you like them to develop strong communication skills? Have employability skills?’ … The answer, unequivocally, is yes,” said Jessica Lane, a specialist in education counseling at Kansas State University. “It’s just that the terminology has, for whatever reason, sparked a lot of controversy.” . . . 

More than 20 years of research shows that students who feel safe and learn self-control not only behave better in the classroom — they also get higher grades and test scores.

“Our reading, our writing, our arithmetic, all of our other subjects are impacted and interrelated with our ability to have positive social experiences, knowing how to regulate ourselves in different areas,” she said.

A study published in 2015 showed that boosting social skills in kindergarten can predict a child’s success more than 20 years later. Children with more developed social and emotional skills had better attendance and were more likely to graduate from high school on time and to earn a college degree.

“The fact that people are saying you can extricate (social-emotional learning) from academics – really, we wouldn’t want to,” Yosai said. “These two things go hand in hand.”
When I shared this on FB I added this note critical of the critics: A willingness to cooperate, share, and work together has been rebranded "socialism," and now learning to be nice, get along, and communicate is "social justice." It seems suspicion, judgment, division, and hatred are the only acceptable values; in practice, the mantra of "personal responsibility" seems to amount to me vs. everyone.

They're mad we're trying to undermine their worldview that sees everyone as other and everyone other as lesser.


Speaking of adults and children, here's something else I recently shared on FB:
When you and your spouse have been nagging the children to get ready for school for what seems like all morning and then you walk down the hall from your bedroom to hear "The game is over; you're almost late for school," and see one child belly crawling across the floor while the other dances around him playing a wild beat on a drum.

Also, a still life representing what our chairs and couches look like more often than not.

I like this poem. It is ekphrastic, which means it was written in response to the picture.
Christopher Shipman


Fun fact: during a thunderstorm
more raindrops fall than there are people
in the world. You can look it up.
I’ll wait. Go ahead. But I won’t bother.
My eight-year-old daughter—
everything she says deserves to be believed.
Besides, I’m driving. It’s all true
anyway. Oz is over the rainbow. Just listen
to the tautology of water. Just look
at the summertime street—how it stretches
its torrid tongue beneath us.
A ghostly heat up ahead flails infinite arms.
We watch the rain fall, offering
platitudes in torrents. She says Blue Bird
(our Prius) can handle it. I know
the small human in back who says it
can handle it. The way she takes in the sky
over Benjamin Parkway—I’d
call it a bruise and be done with it. She uses
the opportunity to remind me that
girls see more shades of color than boys.
Now she insists it’s her favorite
shade of purple. This sky the same she used
for a surreal sketch of her mama’s face
before we left the house. Now
she dangles a bracelet made with a friend—
late birthday present. The purple
meretricious gems. The fake feather barely
hanging on even with the windows up.
And just like that, she grows
taciturn, silent as the drenched blur of trees
scrolling by. I try not to, but I wonder
if she sees in her reflection
a semblance of how fractured we all end up.
How momentarily whole. How we
spread ourselves thin as we go. Raindrops
down a windowpane in a movie
about grief, we’re reshaped—smudged over.
Each of us a palimpsest with a pulse.
At the risk of sentiment, I’ll say nothing
is meretricious. Nothing is fake.
It’s all true. Inside every face a palatial sky.
Go ahead. You can look it up.
I’ll wait beneath the rain of platitudes.

July 2022, Editor’s Choice
My eight-year-old daughter—
everything she says deserves to be believed.


This complicates things even more. A whole new type of intelligence to learn to respect.
A.I.-generated art has been around for years. But tools released this year — with names like DALL-E 2, Midjourney and Stable Diffusion — have made it possible for rank amateurs to create complex, abstract or photorealistic works simply by typing a few words into a text box.

These apps have made many human artists understandably nervous about their own futures — why would anyone pay for art, they wonder, when they could generate it themselves? They have also generated fierce debates about the ethics of A.I.-generated art, and opposition from people who claim that these apps are essentially a high-tech form of plagiarism. . . . 

This summer, he got invited to a Discord chat server where people were testing Midjourney, which uses a complex process known as “diffusion” to turn text into custom images. Users type a series of words in a message to Midjourney; the bot spits back an image seconds later. . . . 

Eventually, Mr. Allen got the idea to submit one of his Midjourney creations to the Colorado State Fair, which had a division for “digital art/digitally manipulated photography.” He had a local shop print the image on canvas and submitted it to the judges. . . . 

Several weeks later, while walking the fairground in Pueblo, Mr. Allen saw a blue ribbon hanging next to his piece. He had won the division, along with a $300 prize.
I have to admit, I like the artwork (at the link).


I'm drifting away from my theme, but I really enjoy this quote from The Beatryce Prophecy by Kate DiCamillo 
There are twenty-six letters in all. You will learn each of them, and once you know them, you can mix them as you will, and then use them to form the words of the world and the things of the world. You can write of everything--what is and what was and what might yet be.
It's one of the books I've read since my last post.


I love this meme that recently came across my feed.

I have made it my mission to unteach children that "fiction is fake." Here are my new definitions I started teaching today:

Nonfiction = learning through information
Fiction = learning through imagination
I reshared it with the following introduction:
My preferred explanation for what is in a library's collection: "Information and Stories."

In books, in periodicals, in music, in video, in video games, online, etc. Format doesn't matter, so long as the content is information or stories we try to provide it in the library's collection.

And stories aren't "fake," they're truth imagined wearing various guises. We define ourselves by the stories we tell about ourselves (individually and collectively) and know others by the stories they tell about themselves. Stories connect us.
I wonder
if she sees in her reflection
a semblance of how fractured we all end up.
Nothing is fake.
It’s all true.


Here's another photo I recently shared, a moment from my backyard in reaction to my kids:
You must always be alert and attuned to mystical possibilities, because you never know when or where you might come across something as amazing as a mermaid.


hashtag magic is real
It's all true.

To leave my theme completely behind, this is a moment from my life that I'm sharing just because I like the face in this photo so much.


When you turn the water to your house back on to test the new faucet the plumber installed, only to have him come running, "Turn it back off--you have water coming out of your wall!"


No idea how it wasn't already leaking. We're actually lucky it happened when the plumber was already here, because he was able fix it up with new pipe just like that. And now our wall has a new decorative hole . . .


These two came across my feed on the same day:

My extended break from the U.S. also got me thinking about the word “freedom”—a word that Americans have largely monopolized, but which means different things to different people around the world. There’s the freedom we associate with individual rights: my freedom to do what I want with my property, for example, or my freedom to bear arms. But there’s another variety of freedom, one that isn’t bound by human laws or edicts: the social freedom to coexist with others in peace; the economic freedom to spend time on activities other than work; the emotional freedom to gather in a square without worrying about an active shooter. 

Europe certainly isn’t heaven. There’s a long, violent history here of wars, colonization and racialized resource extraction. But one thing they seem to have figured out that we in the U.S. could learn from is the balance between collective and individual self-interest. Here, things are weighted more towards the former, and, by and large, people seem to be happier because of it. Experiencing such a subtle but radical difference has been something to remember—and a reminder that these are choices all of us can make.

-----


"I can't think of anything comparable to China's heat wave of summer 2022 in its blend of intensity, duration, geographic extent and number of people affected,” meteorologist Bob Henson, a contributor to Yale Climate Connections, told Axios.
One of the big things wrong with the world is how humans believe other creatures--and all of nature--are lesser.


And, finally, that book from the opening; Humankind: A Hopeful History by Rutger Bregman. Here is my review:
Bregman believes the main thing wrong with the world is our collective view of human nature. The narrative that controls our government, economic, education, and social institutions is that humans are, at base, selfish and self-centered. So we have created a world based on that expectation. Rules, consequences, incentives and punishments, all meant to control those base instincts, and they've become a self-fulfilling prophecy. We think people are bad so we treat them as they are and they react accordingly.

And Bregman thinks we have it all backwards. His research has led him to conclude that people are instinctively cooperative and social, well-intentioned and compassionate, and most interested in the general well-being of everyone. So he believes that if we could change our outlook and expectations and the way we structure our cooperative ventures in line with that framework, we would act and experience each other much differently.

He offers a compelling argument. He deconstructs much of the evidence and the controlling myths that have lent support to our current understanding of human psychology, then offers a wealth of science and studies that tell a different story. He concludes by sharing examples of institutional structures that flip the narrative successfully. At times I felt he was a bit too intent on confirming his own biases even as he critiqued others for doing the same, busier trying to construct his own convincing narrative than simply presenting findings. Nevertheless, he is convincing. And is certainly engaging and interesting.

It's a fascinating and inspiring book.
And here is the full section about power that the opening quote is from, part of the chapter "How Power Corrupts." It's worth reading in its entirety.
Professor Dacher Keltner is the leading expert on applied Machiavellianism. When he first became interested in the psychology of power back in the nineties, he noticed two things. One: almost everybody believed Machiavelli was right. Two: almost nobody had done the science that could back it up.

Keltner decided to be the first. In what he termed his 'natural state' experiments, the American psychologist infiltrated a succession of settings where humans freely vie for dominion, from dorm rooms to summer camps. It was in precisely these kinds of places, where people meet for the first time, that he expected to see Machiavelli's timeless wisdom on full display.

He was disappointed. Behave as The Prince prescribes, Keltner discovered, and you'll be run right out of camp. Much as in prehistoric times, these mini-societies don't put up with arrogance. People assume you're a jerk and shut you out. The individuals who rise to positions of power, Keltner found, are the friendliest and the most empathic. It's survival of the friendliest.

Now you may be thinking: this professor guy should swing by the office and meet my boss - that'll cure him of his little theory about nice leaders.

But hold on, there's more to this story. Keltner also studied the effects of power once people have it. This time he arrived at an altogether different conclusion. Perhaps most entertaining is his Cookie Monster study, named for the furry blue muppet from Sesame Street. In 1998, Keltner and his team had small groups of three volunteers come into their lab. One was randomly assigned to be the group leader and they were all given a dull task to complete. Presently, an assistant brought in a plate containing five cookies for the group to share. All groups left one cookie on the plate (a golden rule of etiquette), but in almost every case the fourth cookie was scarfed down by the leader. What's more, one of Keltner's doctoral students noticed that the leaders also seemed to be messier eaters. Replaying the videos, it became clear that these 'cookie monsters' more often ate with their mouths open, ate more noisily and sprayed more crumbs on their shirts.

Maybe this sounds like your boss?

At first I was inclined to laugh off this kind of goofy experiment, but dozens of similar studies have been published in recent years from all over the world. Keltner and his team did another one looking at the psychological effect of an expensive car. Here, the first set of subjects were put behind the wheel of a beat-up Mitsubishi or Ford Pinto and sent in the direction of a crosswalk where a pedestrian was just stepping off the curb. All the drivers stopped as the law required.

But then in part two of the study, subjects got to drive a snazzy Mercedes. This time, 45 per cent failed to stop for the pedestrian. In fact, the more expensive the car, the ruder the road manners. 'BMW drivers were the worst,' one of the other researchers told the New York Times. (This study has now been replicated twice with similar results.)?

Observing how the drivers behaved, Keltner eventually realised what it reminded him of. The medical term is 'acquired sociopathy': a non-hereditary antisocial personality disorder, first diagnosed by psychologists in the nineteenth century. It arises after a blow to the head that damages key regions of the brain and can turn the nicest people into the worst kind of Machiavellian.

It transpires that people in power display the same tendencies. They literally act like someone with brain damage. Not only are they more impulsive, self-centred, reckless, arrogant and rude than average, they are more likely to cheat on their spouses, are less attentive to other people and less interested in others' perspectives. They're also more shameless, often failing to manifest that one facial phenomenon that makes human beings unique among primates.

They don't blush.

Power appears to work like an anaesthetic that makes you insensate to other people. In a 2014 study, three American neurologists used a 'transcranial magnetic stimulation machine' to test the cognitive functioning of powerful and less powerful people. They discovered that a sense of power disrupts what is known as mirroring, a mental process which plays a key role in empathy. Ordinarily, we mirror all the time. Someone else laughs, you laugh, too; someone yawns, so do you. But powerful individuals mirror much less. It is almost as if they no longer feel connected to their fellow human beings. As if they've come unplugged.

If powerful people feel less 'connected' to others, is it any wonder they also tend to be more cynical? One of the effects of power, myriad studies show, is that it makes you see others in a negative light. If you're powerful you're more likely to think most people are lazy and unreliable. That they need to be supervised and monitored, managed and regulated, censored and told what to do. And because power makes you feel superior to other people, you'll believe all this monitoring should be entrusted to you.

Tragically, not having power has exactly the opposite effect. Psychological research shows that people who feel powerless also feel far less confident. They're hesitant to voice an opinion. In groups, they make themselves seem smaller, and they underestimate their own intelligence.

Such feelings of uncertainty are convenient for those in power, as self-doubt makes people unlikely to strike back. Censorship becomes unnecessary, because people who lack confidence silence themselves. Here we see a nocebo in action: treat people as if they are stupid and they'll start to feel stupid, leading rulers to reason that the masses are too dim to think for themselves and hence they - with their vision and insight - should take charge.

But isn't it precisely the other way around? Isn't it power that makes us short-sighted? Once you arrive at the top, there's less of an impetus to see things from other perspectives. There's no imperative for empathy, because anyone you find irrational or irritating can simply be ignored, sanctioned, locked up, or worse. Powerful people don't have to justify their actions and therefore can afford a blinkered view.

That might also help explain why women tend to score higher than men on empathy tests. A large study at Cambridge University in 2018 found no genetic basis for this divergence, and instead attributed it to what scientists call socialisation. Due to the way power has traditionally been distributed, it's mostly been up to women to understand men. Those persistent ideas about a superior female intuition are probably rooted in the same imbalance — that women are expected to see things from a male perspective, and rarely the other way around.
(My plan is to have much more from this book in my next post. This is just the teaser.)

Power, whether real or perceived, makes us Machiavellian. In our natural state, we're not. And we can choose not to be.


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