The Idiot Brain

by Dean Burnett

  Low-ball can be used to make people work for free! Sort of. A 2003 study by Burger and Cornelius of Santa Clara University had people agreeing to complete a survey in return for a free coffee mug.10 They were then told there were no mugs available. Most still did the survey, despite not getting the promised reward. Another study by Cialdini and his colleagues in 1978 reported university students were far more likely to show up for a 7 a.m. experiment if they’d already agreed to show up at 9 a.m., than if they were initially asked to show up at 7 a.m.11 Clearly, reward or cost aren’t the only factors; many studies of the low-ball technique have shown that actively agreeing to a deal, willingly, before it’s changed is integral to sticking to it regardless.

  These are the more familiar of many approaches for manipulating people into complying with your wishes (another example is reverse psychology, which you definitely shouldn’t look up yourself). Does this make much evolutionary sense? It’s supposed to be ‘survival of the fittest’, but how is being easily manipulated a useful advantage? We’ll look at this more in a later section, but the compliance techniques described here can all be explained by certain tendencies of the brain.†

  A lot of these are linked to our self-image. Chapter 4 showed the brain (via the frontal lobes) is capable of self-analysis and awareness. So it’s not so far-fetched that we’d use this information and ‘adjust’ for any personal failing. You’ve heard of people ‘biting their tongue’, but why do that? They may think someone’s baby is actually quite ugly, but stop themselves from saying this and instead say, ‘Oh, how cute.’ This makes people think better of them, whereas the truth wouldn’t. This is something called ‘impression management’, which is where we try to control the impression people get of us via social behaviours. We care what other people think of us at a neurological level, and will go to great lengths to make them like us.

  A 2014 study by Tom Farrow and his colleagues of the University of Sheffield suggested that impression management shows activation in the medial prefrontal cortex and left ventrolateral prefrontal cortex, along with other regions including the midbrain and cerebellum.12 However, these areas were noticeably active only when subjects tried to make themselves look bad, when choosing behaviours to make people dislike them. If they were choosing behaviours that made them look good, there was no detectable difference from normal brain activity.

  Coupled with the fact that subjects were much faster at processing behaviours that made them look good as opposed to bad, they concluded that making us look good to others is what the brain is doing all the time! Trying to scan for it is like trying to find a specific tree in a dense forest; there’s nothing to make it stand out. The study in question was small, only 20 subjects, so it’s possible specific processes for this behaviour might be found eventually, but the fact that there was still such a disparity between looking-good people and looking-bad people is striking.

  But what does this have to do with manipulating people? Well, the brain seems to be geared towards making other people like it/you. All the compliance techniques arguably take advantage of a person’s desire to be seen positively by others. This is such an ingrained drive that it can be exploited.

  If you’ve agreed to a request, rejecting a similar request would probably cause disappointment and damage someone’s opinion of you, so foot in the door works. If you’ve turned down a big request, you’re aware that the person won’t like you for this, so are primed to agree to a smaller request as a ‘consolation’, so door in the face works. If you’ve agreed to do or pay something and then the demand suddenly increases, backing out would again cause disappointment and make you look bad, so low ball works. All because we want people to think well of us, to the point where it overrides our better judgement or logic.

  It’s undoubtedly more complex than this. Our self-image requires consistency, so once the brain has made a decision it can be surprisingly hard to alter it, as anyone who’s tried explaining to an elderly relative that not all foreigners are filthy thieves will know. We saw earlier how thinking one thing and doing something that contradicts it creates dissonance, a distressing state where thinking and behaviour don’t match. In response, the brain will often alter its thinking to match the behaviour, restoring harmony.

  Your friend wants money, you don’t want to give it. But you just gave them a slightly smaller amount. Why would you do this if you didn’t think it was acceptable? You want to be consistent, and liked, so your brain decides you do want to give them more money, and there we get the FITD. This also explains why making an active choice is important for low ball: the brain has made a decision, so will stick to it to be consistent, even if the reason for the decision no longer applies; you’re committed, people are counting on you.

  There’s also the principle of reciprocity, a uniquely human phenomenon (as far as we know) where people will respond in kind to people being nice to them, more so than self-interest would suggest.13 If you reject someone’s request and they make a smaller one, you perceive this as them doing something nice for you, and agree to be disproportionately nice in turn. DITF is believed to exploit this tendency, because the brain interprets ‘making a smaller request than the previous one’ as someone doing you a favour, because it’s an idiot.

  As well as this, there’s social dominance and control. Some (most?) people, in Western cultures at least, want to be seen as dominant and/or in control, because the brain sees this as a safer, more rewarding state. This can often manifest in questionable ways. If someone is asking you for things, they are subservient to you, and you stay dominant (and likeable) by helping them out. FITD fits nicely with this.

  If you reject someone’s request, you assert dominance, and if they make a smaller request they have established they’re submissive, so agreeing with it means you can still be dominant and liked. A double whammy of good feelings. DITF can arise from this. And say you’ve decided to do something, then someone changes the parameters. If you then back out, this means they have control over you. To hell with that. You’ll go through with the original decision anyway, because you’re nice, damn it: low ball.

  To summarise, our brains make us want to be liked, to be superior, and to be consistent. As a result of all this, our brains make us vulnerable to any unscrupulous person who wants our money and has a basic awareness of haggling. It takes an incredibly complex organ to do something this stupid.

  Achy Breaky Brain

  (Why a relationship break-up is so devastating)

  Have you ever found yourself in the foetal position on the sofa for days on end, curtains drawn, phone unanswered, moving only to haphazardly wipe the snot and tears from your face, wondering why the very universe itself has cruelly decided to torment you so? Heartbreak can be all-consuming and totally debilitating. It is one of the most unpleasant things a modern human can expect to experience. It inspires great art and music as well as some terrible poetry. Technically, nothing has physically happened to you. You’ve not been injured. You’ve not contracted a vicious virus. All that’s happened is you’ve been made aware that you won’t be seeing a person you had a lot of interaction with much any more. That’s it. So why does it leave you reeling for weeks, months, even for the rest of your life in some cases?

  It’s because other people have a major influence over our brain’s (and therefore our) well-being, and seldom is this more true than in romantic relationships.

  Much of human culture seems dedicated to ending up in a long-term relationship, or acknowledging that you’re in one (see: Valentine’s Day, weddings, rom-coms, love ballads, the jewellery industry, a decent percentage of all poetry, country music, anniversary cards, the game ‘Mr & Mrs’ and so on). Monogamy is not the norm among other primates14 and seems odd when you consider we live much longer than the average ape so could feasibly dabble with many more partners in the available time. If it’s all about ‘survival of the fittest’, making sure our genes propagate ahead of others, surely it would make more sense to reproduce with as many
partners as possible, not stick to one person for our entire lives? But no, that’s exactly what we humans tend to do.

  There are numerous theories as to why humans are seemingly compelled to form monogamous romantic relationships, involving biology, culture, environment and evolution. Some argue that monogamous relationships result in two parents caring for offspring rather than one, so said offspring have greater chance of survival.15 Others say it’s due to more cultural influences, such as religion and class systems wanting to keep wealth and influence within the same narrow familial range (you can’t make sure your family inherits your advantages if you can’t keep track of it).16 Another interesting new theory pins it on the influence of grandmothers acting as child carers, thus favouring the survival of long-term couples (even the most doting grandmother would probably baulk at caring for the unfamiliar offspring of her own child’s ex).17

  Whatever the initial cause, humans seem primed to seek out and form monogamous romantic relationships, and this is reflected in a number of weird things the brain does when we end up falling for someone.

  Attraction is governed by many factors. Many species end up developing secondary sex characteristics, which are features that occur during sexual maturity but that aren’t directly involved in the reproductive process, for instance, a moose’s antlers or a peacock’s tail. They’re impressive and show how fit and healthy the individual creature is, but they don’t do much beyond that. Humans are no different. As adults we develop many features that are apparently largely for physically attracting others: the deep voice, enlarged frames and facial hair of men, or the protruding breasts and pronounced curves of women. None of these things are ‘essential’, but in the distant past some of our ancestors decided that’s what they wanted in a partner, and evolution took over from there. But then we end up with something of a chicken-and-egg scenario with regards to the brain, in that the human brain inherently finds certain features attractive because it has evolved to do so. Which came first, the attraction or the primitive brain’s recognition of it? Hard to say.

  Everyone has his or her own preferences and types, as we all know, but there are general patterns. Some of the things we humans find attractive are predictable, like the physical features alluded to above. Others are attracted to a more cerebral quality, with a person’s wit or personality being the sexiest thing about them. A lot of variation is cultural, with what’s deemed attractive being heavily influenced by things such as the media or what’s considered ‘different’. Contrast the popularity of false tans in more Western cultures with the huge market for body whitening lotions in many Asian countries. Some things are just bizarre, such as research that suggests people are more attracted to individuals that resemble them,18 which harks back to the brain’s ego bias.

  It’s important, however, to differentiate between a desire for sex, aka lust, and the deeper, more personal romantic attraction and bonding we associate with romance and love, things more often sought and found with long-term relationships. People can (and frequently do) enjoy purely physical sexual interactions with others that they have no real ‘fondness’ for apart from an appreciation for their appearance, and even that’s not essential. Sex is a tricky thing to pin down with the brain as it underlies much of our adult thinking and behaviour. But this section isn’t really about lust; we’re talking more about love, in the romantic sense, for one specific individual.

  There’s a lot of evidence to suggest the brain does process these things differently. Studies by Bartels and Zeki suggest that when individuals who describe themselves as in love are shown images of their romantic partners, there is raised activity (not seen in lust or more platonic relationships) in a network of brain regions including the medial insula, anterior cingulate cortex, caudate nucleus and putamen. There was also lower activity in the posterior cingulate gyrus and in the amygdala. The posterior cingulate gyrus is often associated with painful emotion perception, so it makes sense that your loved one’s presence would shut this down a bit. The amygdala processes emotions and memory, but often for negative things such as fear and anger, so again it makes sense that it’s not so active now; people in committed relationships can often seem more relaxed and less bothered about day-to-day annoyances, regularly coming across as ‘smug’ to the independent observer. There’s also diminished activity in regions including the prefrontal cortex, which is responsible for logic and rational decision-making.

  Certain chemicals and transmitters are associated too.‡ Being in love seems to elevate dopamine activity in the reward pathway,20 meaning we experience pleasure in our partner’s presence, almost like a drug (see Chapter 8). And oxytocin is often referred to as ‘the love hormone’ or similar, which is a ridiculous oversimplification of a complex substance, but it does seem to be elevated in people in relationships, and it has been linked to feelings of trust and connection in humans.21

  This just the raw biological stuff that happens in our brains when we fall in love. There’s also many other things to consider, like the expanded sense of self and achievement that comes from being in a relationship. There’s the immense satisfaction and achievement that comes from having a whole other person value you so highly and want to be in your company in all manner of contexts. Given that most cultures invariably see being in a relationship as a universal goal or achievement (as any happily single person will tell you, usually through gritted teeth), there’s also advanced social standing from being in a couple.

  The flexibility of the brain also means that, in response to all this deep and intense stuff that results from being committed to someone, it adapts to expect it. Our partners become integrated into our long-term plans, goals and ambitions, our predictions and schemas, our general way of thinking about the world. They are, in every sense, a big part of our life.

  And then it ends. Maybe one partner wasn’t being faithful; maybe there’s just not enough compatibility; perhaps one partner’s behaviour drove the other away. (Studies have shown that people with more anxious tendencies tend to exaggerate and amplify relationship conflicts, possibly to breaking point.22)

  Consider everything the brain invests in sustaining a relationship, all the changes it undergoes, all the value it places on being in one, all the long-term plans it makes, all the familiar routines it grows to expect. If you remove all this in one fell swoop, the brain is going to be seriously negatively affected by it.

  All the positive sensations it has grown to expect suddenly cease. Our plans for the future and expectations of the world are suddenly no longer valid, which is incredibly distressing for an organ that, as we’ve seen repeatedly, doesn’t deal with uncertainty and ambiguity well at all. (Chapter 8 goes into all of this in more detail.) And there is copious practical uncertainty to deal with if it was a long-term relationship. Where will you live? Will you lose your friends? What about the financial concerns?

  The social element is also quite damaging, considering how much we value our social acceptance and standing. Having to explain to all your friends and family that you ‘failed’ at a relationship is bad enough, but consider the break-up itself; someone who knows you better than anyone, at the most intimate level, has deemed you unacceptable. This is a real kick in the social identity. This is where it hurts.

  That’s a literal comment by the way; studies have shown that a relationship break-up activates the same brain regions that process physical pain.23 There have been numerous examples throughout this book of the brain processing social concerns in the same way as genuine physical concerns (for example, social fears being just as unnerving as actual physical danger), and this is no different. They say ‘love hurts’, and, yes, yes it does. Paracetamol is even sometimes effective for ‘heartache’.

  Add to this that you have countless memories of that person that were formally happy but that are now linked with something very negative. This undermines a big part of your sense of self. And, on top of that, the earlier observation that being in love is like a drug comes back to haunt
you; you’re used to experiencing something constantly rewarding, and suddenly it’s taken away. In Chapter 8, we’ll see how addiction and withdrawal can be very disruptive and damaging to the brain, and a not dissimilar process is happening here when we experience a sudden break-up with a long-term partner.24

  This isn’t to say the brain doesn’t have the ability to deal with a break-up. It can put everything back together eventually, even if it’s a slow process. Some experiments showed that specifically focusing on the positive outcomes of a break-up can cause more rapid recovery and growth,25 as alluded to earlier in the brain’s bias for preferring to remember ‘good’ things. And, just sometimes, science and clichés match up, and things really do get better with time.26

  But overall, the brain dedicates so much to establishing and sustaining a relationship that it suffers, as do we, when it all comes crashing down. ‘Breaking up is hard to do’ is an understatement.

  People power

  (How the brain reacts to being part of a group)

  What exactly is a ‘friend’? It’s a question that makes you seem a rather tragic individual if asked aloud. A friend is essentially someone with whom you share a personal bond (that isn’t familial or romantic). However, it’s more complicated because people have many different categories of friends; work friends, school friends, old friends, acquaintances, friends you don’t really like but have known too long to get rid of, and so on. The Internet also now allows ‘online’ friends, as people can form meaningful relationships with like-minded strangers across the planet.