Your Future Self Will Thank You

by Drew Dyck

  What exactly is a habit? According to Charles Duhigg, author of The Power of Habit, “a habit is a behavior that starts as a choice, and then become a nearly unconscious pattern.”1 These unconscious patterns determine a lot of our behavior. A Duke University study found that more than 40 percent of our actions come from habit rather than decisions. That means nearly half of our actions on any given day take place without much conscious thought. We just do them. They’re habits.

  Take the task of merging onto a freeway. The first time I did it, I was terrified. The fact that I was learning to drive in my dad’s 1987 Cadillac didn’t help. The thing was so big it felt more like steering a ship than driving a car. My knuckles whitened as my fists clenched the wheel. I checked the position of my hands. Ten and two, just like Dad said. As I rolled down the on-ramp, my torso straightened. My eyes darted between the car in front of me and the freeway. Each action took conscious thought. Shoulder check. Turn the blinker on. Gently press the gas pedal. Turn the wheel. When I finally settled into the flow of traffic, I breathed a sigh of relief. But I didn’t get too comfortable. I had to constantly check to see if I was staying in my lane.

  Today, after driving for more than twenty years, the experience of merging onto a freeway is quite different. Actually, it’s not much of an experience at all. Yes, I perform the motions required to thread a three-thousand-pound vehicle into moving traffic, but I’m only vaguely aware of the fact that I’m hitting the gas, shoulder-checking, and signaling. In fact, while I’m doing these things, my mind might be somewhere else. I could be stewing about a bad day at work or singing along to the radio or threatening a noisy child in the backseat. The actions of merging onto the freeway have become a habit.

  Don’t be too impressed by my merging mastery. There’s a simple neurological reason for why what once took effort now requires virtually none. In a process neuroscientists call “chunking” my brain has taken the sequence of behaviors involved in driving a car and turned them into an automatic routine.

  The conscious, effortful thought it took to learn how to merge took place in the frontal lobes of my brain known as the prefrontal cortex. That’s the executive region of our brains, the gray matter involved in making decisions and carrying out purposeful actions. When scientists do brain scans on people who are learning a new task, this region lights up like a Christmas tree. The prefrontal cortex is working overtime to learn how to do something unfamiliar. But as someone gets better at a task, that region goes dark. Why? Because once a behavior becomes habit, it’s relegated to a small region deep in the center of our brains called the basal ganglia. Once the habit is safely stored in this region of the brain, it frees the prefrontal cortex to tackle other novel tasks. This explains why you’re able perform repetitive behaviors (like driving) even while your mind roams to other topics. Your brain constantly seeks to turn behaviors into habits to save effort. This process frees up your prefrontal cortex to concentrate on unfamiliar and difficult tasks.

  So what do habits have to do with self-control?

  A lot. Remember the research about willpower we discussed in the last chapter? We learned that it’s a finite resource. Expend enough willpower by tackling difficult tasks or resisting temptation and eventually your willpower reserves will run dry. You can build your willpower. You can be strategic about how you use it. But ultimately you only have so much. That’s where habits help. Once a behavior becomes encoded as a habit, it no longer requires effort. Habits allow you to move behaviors from being conscious and effortful to unconscious and effortless. You outsource the work of willpower to the factory of habit.

  Habits aren’t confined to mechanical tasks like driving. They influence our moral and spiritual behavior as well. It’s by creating healthy habits that we ultimately rise above the tide of continuous temptations and live virtuously. As theologian N. T. Wright stated, “Virtue is what happens when wise and courageous choices become second nature.”

  Willpower is still crucial, but habits are more reliable. If two people face the same temptation and one has made a habit of resisting that temptation and the other is depending on sheer effort to fend it off, guess which person is going to cave most of the time? The willpower guy or gal will give in far more often than the one relying on good habits. Whether it is resisting temptation or following through on a promise or completing a difficult task, bet on habits every time. Habits are so powerful they can even override our conscious choices. One study demonstrated that even when people write out a list before grocery shopping they often end up buying different foods once they get to the store. Why? The written plan wasn’t enough to override their habits and change what they had bought in the past. Even shoppers who were trying to lose weight dumped their favorite desserts into their carts.2

  “I value self-discipline,” said business guru Tim Ferriss. “But creating systems that make it next to impossible to misbehave is more reliable than self-control.”3 Pastor John Ortberg is more blunt: “Habits eat willpower for breakfast.”4

  If habits are truly that powerful, the key to living a holy life isn’t simply to out-battle temptation at every turn. It’s to build righteous patterns into your life. It’s achieved through habits.

  INFORMATION ISN’T ENOUGH

  Unfortunately, we’re not accustomed to thinking about spiritual growth in terms of habits. We tend to believe that if we simply learn the right things, our behavior will change. Sin is the result of ignorance, we reason. We do stupid things because we don’t realize that what we’re doing is wrong.

  At first blush, this kind of reasoning makes sense. And certainly, we need a certain modicum of knowledge to be able to choose to do what’s right. But there’s a problem: knowledge doesn’t always lead to change. Even when we know what’s right, we often still fail to do it.

  I remember seeing a nurse out on his break smoking! When I saw him lighting up, perhaps having just left the room of someone dying of lung cancer, I wondered what was going through his mind as he inhaled the carcinogenic fumes. How can someone engage in that kind of risky behavior when they know full well the dire consequences of doing so? They know better than the rest of us the health risks posed by smoking, yet somehow that understanding hasn’t helped them make the necessary changes to ditch that habit. It’s hard to fathom, but it happens all the time. Knowledge doesn’t always translate into action.

  CIGARETTES AND VEGGIES

  In the 1990s, a group of students in Washington participated in an eight-year anti-smoking program. Over that time, students were thoroughly educated on the many harmful effects of smoking, including the increased risks of diseases like COPD, cancer, and heart disease. Educators caught up with the students who participated in the study and compared the rate of regular smokers with a control group that did not participate in the program. Of the group that went through the program, 25.4 percent smoked regularly. In the control group, 25.7 percent now smoked. That means receiving nearly a decade of education on the life-threatening effects of smoking caused a paltry 0.3 percent reduction in the percentage of kids who went on to embrace the habit.5 I don’t know how many millions of dollars were spent on the long-term initiative, but if taxpayers knew about the abysmal results, I’m sure they’d want their money back.

  It’s not just anti-smoking campaigns that suffer from overestimating the impact of information. Do you remember the “5 A Day” campaign? It was a crusade run by across North America to try and get people eating the daily 400 grams of fruit and vegetables the World Health Organization recommended. Perhaps you recall seeing the colorful posters displaying a bounty of fresh produce. They were ubiquitous: in school classrooms, in workplace break rooms, on the sides of buses, in magazines, on TV. On one hand, they were extremely effective. To this day if you ask people how many fruits and veggies they’re supposed to eat every day, most can provide the correct answer. But before you break out the broccoli to celebrate, consider this: though the campaign succeeded in teaching us information about nutrition, it didn’t
cause people to eat more fruits and vegetables. In fact, after the campaign, consumption of fruit and vegetables declined. In his book The Social Animal, David Brooks summarizes survey findings from the decades of social science research and concluded: “information programs alone are not very effective in changing behavior.”6

  This same principle holds true in our spiritual lives. Often our theological knowledge doesn’t affect the way we actually live. We may go to church year after year, read the Bible, and study theology—and fail to change. Witnessing that disturbing disconnect in my own life is what drove me to write this book. I believe that knowledge is crucial; it just isn’t enough.

  Philosopher James K. A. Smith has reflected at length on this topic. Why do we believe that knowledge is enough to change us? He traces that idea back to the seventeenth-century philosopher René Descartes, who defined the human person as res cogitans, a “thinking thing.” According to Smith, because of Descartes’s broad influence on Western culture, most Christians continue to share this view of human nature, which discounts feelings and ignores physicality.

  Like Descartes, we view our bodies as (at best!) extraneous, temporary vehicles for trucking around our souls or “minds,” which are where all the real action takes place. In other words, we imagine human beings as giant bobblehead dolls: with humungous heads and itty-bitty, unimportant bodies.7

  For Smith this elevation of the human intellect has implications for the Christian life. “‘I think, therefore I am,’ Descartes said, and most of our approaches to discipleship end up parroting his idea,” he writes.8

  As I read Smith’s ideas, red flags were flying up all over the place. I’m a theology geek and a word nerd. You could say knowledge is kind of my thing. And I believe knowledge of God is important, so important I’m still paying off the loans I took out to attend seminary. One of my favorite quotes is from A. W. Tozer: “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.”9

  As if anticipating my objections, Smith writes, “Well, how’s that working out for you? … Has all of your new knowledge and information and thinking liberated you from those habits?”10

  Point taken. Plus, as Smith goes on to explain, he doesn’t dismiss the need for sound doctrine or clear thinking. He just argues knowledge alone isn’t enough to form Christians who consistently act out what they believe. Pastor Todd Hunter agrees, writing, “Information alone does not produce change because it does not touch the will, the emotions, the heart, the spirit, or our social environment.”11 Even Paul acknowledges the point implicitly. After all, in Romans 7 he writes that he knew the good he ought to do. Yet despite having this knowledge of what was good, he found himself unable to do it.

  Some people believe that if only they get a better grasp of God or the nature of the gospel, they will automatically transform. They’re right to place a high premium on Christian truth. Understanding who God is and who we are enables us to embark on the journey toward change. It lights the path as we go.

  But experiencing transformation takes more than mere information. You could study the violin for years, read up on the instrument’s history, and develop a sophisticated understanding of its mechanics. Yet if you never picked one up, you’d still be a lousy violinist. All of your knowledge wouldn’t mean squat. In a similar way even the most accurate, in-depth understanding of scriptural truth won’t produce change in and of itself. It must be internalized and put into action.

  So if knowledge alone isn’t the key to transformation, what is? According to Smith, “We don’t need less than knowledge; we need more. We need to recognize the power of habit.”12

  GOOD HABITS, BAD HABITS

  As we’ve seen, habits influence all kinds of behavior. It’s not just mundane activities—like driving, dressing, and brushing your teeth—that are influenced by habit. It’s more complex and important behaviors too. A whole range of activities gets programmed into our lives. Once they’re in place, they take very little effort to continue. And that can be a bad thing.

  I travel to Chicago every couple of months for work. Whenever I land in the Windy City, I find myself driven, as if by unseen forces, into a deep-dish pizza restaurant. My recent visit was no exception. As soon as I stepped off the plane, I began craving copious amounts of cheese covered in chunky tomato sauce. And sure enough, soon I found myself in Lou Malnati’s pizzeria awaiting my handmade pizza pie with giddy anticipation.

  It was sort of a sad scene. I was dining by myself, so there was no pretext of community; I was just there to gorge myself on pizza. And that’s precisely what I did. After a few slices I hit a wall but consumed one more. There I was, filled with cheese and regret. As I maneuvered my distended belly away from the table, I swore that I wouldn’t be back. But I will. That’s the power of habit.

  I believe a lot of our repetitive failures are the result of habit. I go to sleep fully intending to start the next day with prayer and devotions. Instead I wake up and instinctively reach for my phone and check social media. I plan to do one thing—but then do something different altogether. What in the world in going on? It’s completely perplexing, until you understand the power of habit. The Bible has a vivid description for this kind of behavior. “As a dog returns to its vomit, so fools repeat their folly” (Prov. 26:11). It’s a nauseating image, but it captures something of the stubborn nature of bad habits. For the fool, folly is so ingrained he can’t help himself. He keeps returning to his behavior, no matter how dumb or disgusting it may be.

  When we use the word “habit” we usually envision negative behaviors: smoking, swearing, chewing your nails, or eating too much deep-dish pizza. But of course there are good habits too. Often we don’t think of them as habits. Perhaps it’s a way to offload guilt. The bad things we do are unconscious, uncontrollable. The good things we do, we want to take credit for, so we chalk them up to good choices. Yet all kinds of our behaviors are the result of habit.

  Since I confessed my pizza addiction, let me balance things out with a little bragging. I go to church. Every Sunday. I know that doesn’t make me Christian of the Year. But, hey, in a time of dwindling church attendance, at least I’m showing up! It’s not easy to get to church either. In order to make it to the service on time, my wife and I have to wake up early, get some coffee into our bloodstreams, and then face the real challenge: coaxing our three young children through the painstaking ballet of getting dressed, fed (oh no, Mary spilled yogurt on her dress … let’s change her), hair combed, and out the door in a timely manner.

  Even once we perform the minor miracle of getting the whole family into the van in time, we have a twenty-minute drive to get to our church. Since we attend a congregation in the urban core of the city, parking is always a nightmare. Most Sundays I duck into the sanctuary, wet from the Portland rain, dragging a stubborn child behind me. Yet somehow we get to church every week.

  You might think I have to psych myself up to go through this routine. Summon every ounce of willpower in order to make the decision to go. But I don’t. Truth be told, I don’t even think about it. I just go.

  Why? It’s an ingrained pattern. I’ve been going to church all my life. Sleeping in on Sunday mornings would feel weird. Now don’t get me wrong. Gathering with fellow believers each week to worship God is important to me. And my wife and I want to raise our kids in the church. We place a high value on worshiping with our brothers and sisters in Christ. But honestly, when I’m trudging through the motions Sunday morning in a barely conscious fog, I’m not thinking of much. And I’m doing it more or less on autopilot. We just go. It’s a habit.

  If attending church weren’t a habit for me, I’d have to expend a lot of willpower each week just to get there. If I’m used to sleeping in each Sunday, I may even forget about church and have to set a reminder. Maybe I’d have to adjust my work schedule to carve out time off on Sunday. I’d have to steel myself to get the kids ready and explain to children used to playing on Sunday morning that they had to squeeze
into dressier-than-normal clothes and comb their hair. Then I’d have to punch the church’s address into my phone and try to figure out the tricky parking situation. If I’d had a particularly difficult week, I likely wouldn’t have the willpower reserves to push through all those barriers. But since attending is a habit for me, I don’t have to.

  That’s just one habit, albeit an important one. The power of habit can be leveraged to build all kinds of healthy practices into our life, like regular prayer, Bible reading, and acts of service. Habits can be vehicles for transformation. They help us build practices into our lives that cultivate virtue and free us from sin.

  BILLY GRAHAM’S SPIRITUAL HABITS

  After the famous evangelist Billy Graham died, author Jerry Jenkins recalled a private conversation he had with the late evangelist.13 Jenkins, who assisted Graham in writing his memoirs, had interviewed Graham to collect material. Jenkins remembered how Graham waved away his first question.

  “People look to you as a spiritual leader, a model, almost like the Protestant Pope—”

  Graham interrupted him.

  “They really mustn’t do that. When I think of the number of times I’ve failed the Lord, I feel this low,” Graham said, reaching out his hand and placing it flat on the floor.

  Jenkins made several more attempts to ask a question based on Graham’s revered status, but Graham “would have none of it.”

  Then Jenkins asked, “Well, just tell me how you maintain your own spiritual disciplines.”

  “Finally, I had hit on something he was eager to talk about,” Jenkins recalled.