This is Hidden Brain, I'm Shankar Vedanta.
You've heard the old joke.
A pedestrian in New York is looking for directions
to the city's most famous musical performance venue.
He sees a musician get out of a cab and asks,
how do you get to Carnegie Hall?
The musician answers, practice, practice, practice.
I'm guessing you didn't even crack a smile.
That joke stopped being funny a long time ago
and not just because it's familiar.
It's become something of a truism.
We all know that practice, grit and determination
are keys to success.
If you want to be better than everyone else at something,
you have to outwork everyone else.
There is much truth to the story of grit and drive.
We've explored research on the show that says that conscientiousness
is one of the best predictors of academic and professional success.
But today, in this episode and in a companion story
on our subscription feed Hidden Brain Plus,
we explore a paradox.
There are many domains in life where practice and effort
fail to work their usual magic.
In these areas, it's effortlessness that triumphs over effort.
Trying your best or trying too hard can produce worse results.
Understanding why effort and grit can sometimes backfire
and the underappreciated skill of letting go
this week on Hidden Brain.
Welcome to a trip you'll never forget in Denver
where summer sunshine sparks mountain adventure.
Denver, always welcome.
Play your trip at visit Denver.com slash summer.
There are times in our lives when we find ourselves
beset with challenges.
We toss and turn at night thinking of ways
we can extricate ourselves from our problems.
But no matter what we do, nothing seems to work.
At the University of British Columbia,
the philosopher Edward Slingelin has explored
the counter intuitive benefits of just letting go.
Edward Slingelin, welcome to Hidden Brain.
Thanks for having me.
Ted, I want to take you back to the time in your life
when you were in your early 20s and you lived in San Francisco.
You were interested in meeting women
and you tried hard to make romance happen.
Tell me what you did.
I remember vividly going through this dry spell
where I was really actively making an effort to meet people.
I would do things like go to a cafe
and leave my Chinese philosophy books
very prominently displayed on the table I was working at.
My motorcycle helmet next to me on the chair.
Thinking, okay, this is how it's going to work.
I want to walk by and think, wow, I read Chinese.
He rides a motorcycle and they'll start talking to me.
And that, in fact, never happened.
And looking back at it now, it's pretty clear.
Trying to get a date is not a good way to get a date.
So that was not very successful.
I remember being at one party
and wandering to the edge of a conversation
where people were talking about what they studied.
And they were all people worked in the restaurant industry
but were going to school part-time.
And I wasn't really listening to the conversation
for conversation's sake.
I was looking for a chance to insert myself.
And so I mentioned philosophy
and I said, oh, you know, I studied Chinese philosophy.
That's Stanford.
And everyone in the conversation got a look to me.
And they were like, yeah, it's really fascinating.
Thanks. And they turned back to the conversation.
It was just this clumsy attempt to insert myself
into a social situation.
And I was annoying.
Yeah, I understand that at one point,
this was back in the day when we all rented movies at a store.
You tried to catch the interest of a woman
who worked at the video rental store.
Pay me a picture of what you did, Ted.
I was trying to figure out some way to start talking to her.
So I was renting, went through a Vim Vendor's phase.
And when I'd return my movie, I would kind of linger
as if I was kind of looking at the latest new arrivals.
And one time she picked up the video I turned in
and I said, hey, you know, are you into Vim Vendor's?
And she just looked at me like I was speaking
of a foreign language and was an idiot
and went back to her work.
Ted was working at the time in a restaurant.
One day, he happened to have an extra busy shift.
And I got into a really good state of just, you know, flowing.
When you're working in a restaurant, when you get hit really hard,
it's a wonderful feeling.
You're part of a team.
You know, you're working together at the kitchen
and then the people out on the floor are all working together
to make things happen as quickly as possible.
There's no time to think, you know, five hours go by
and you're not even noticing it.
And so I had this really intense, satisfying shift.
And at the end of it, I went to the bar,
bartender knew I needed a drink and had to be one.
And there just happened to be this really attractive woman
sitting at the bar.
And without thinking, I just said, I don't know what I,
I don't even remember what I said.
But I just started talking to this person
from a place of calm.
And genuine kind of curiosity about the world.
So she was an exchange student.
She was German French Lebanese,
very interesting background.
And I just wanted to hear about her.
What are you doing at San Francisco?
What are you studying back home?
I was just starting to study German.
So it organically came up that I was studying German philosophy.
Oh, that turned into a very long date.
That evening.
And it's interesting.
I'd this shift in my life that happened after that.
This kind of break in the drought.
I don't know if anyone's experienced this as a single person of it.
Never rains, but it pours.
So you go through this long period.
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
You finally meet someone and have a great connection,
great experience.
And then suddenly people just come out of the woodwork.
And so I remember dropping this woman off at the train.
She was living down the peninsula and going to return a video.
So we had watched a Vim Vendors movie.
Because that was my thing.
And she was German.
I walked out of my apartment to go to the video store.
And within a half block,
these two young women walking past me kind of smiled at me.
And then about 10 paces on.
They turned around and one of them said,
Hey, my friend wants to date you.
I'm like, oh, okay.
I'm out of the blue.
Out of the blue is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me possibly.
And I just kind of smiled and waved and went on my way.
I got to the video store and dropped my video through the slot as one does.
And just turned around to leave.
And it was that woman who I kept trying to strike up a conversation with.
And this time she said, hey, you know,
I see you're watching.
There's another Vim Vendors movie.
What do you know, what do you like so much about him?
And she started talking to me and we had planned to watch a Vim Vendor movie together.
So it was insane.
It was like, I actually remember going home and thinking, maybe I shouldn't shower.
And maybe something happened to me.
Firm on wise that is, yeah, I don't want to mess with.
I should keep this shirt on for the next month.
But it wasn't, it wasn't Firm ones. It was just that I was relaxed and not trying anymore.
I want to ask you about something similar that's happened to you more recently, Ted.
In this case, it isn't about romance, but tennis.
Tell me about your experience of learning to play tennis and your interactions with the tennis pro
sometimes gives you lessons.
So I learned tennis as an adult and learning to skill like tennis as an adult is like trying
to learn a language as an adult.
It's painful and takes a lot of time.
And so I would take lessons and learn the proper form.
And then my coach would say, well, now do all that, but in a relaxed way.
So do all the things I've consciously told you, but now stop thinking consciously about it.
And it was really hard to do. And it was only typically when we kind of stopped the official lesson
and just be hitting around at the end that I would suddenly feel what it feels like to not try and to just hit the ball.
And I've experienced this as well, or recently, I started playing tennis with a colleague of mine here at UBC.
He's a psychologist, Liz Dunn.
And so Liz coined this term that I still use and I think that is now a meme going through the Vancouver tennis community.
But we would play and we both knew we weren't being relaxed and hitting the right way.
And after we finished our match, I remember when she said, let's do danger tennis.
And I was like, what's danger tennis? And she said, we're just going to hit the ball as hard as we can.
And we don't care if it goes in, what's just hit the ball.
And suddenly we were killing it and it was going in and we were hitting really well.
And so I've done this where I played matches with guys and we're both kind of a little tense and we're not hitting right.
And then I say, let's play danger tennis. And suddenly we're killing it.
And everyone I do this with says, okay, I'm going to just play danger tennis all the time.
But as soon as there are stakes, you know, as soon as we're keeping score, our conscious mind pops up and interferes with our performance.
You tell a story about visiting a local science museum that features a game called Mindball. What is Mindball Ted?
So it's a very cleverly set up game. You've got two people at either side of a long table and there's a metal ball in the middle.
And the goal is to push that ball to the other end of the table.
And if you do it falls into a little hole and your alarm goes off and you win, it's very exciting.
The trick is that you're not pushing the ball with your hand. You're using your mind.
So both players have a net on their heads and EEG monitor.
And this EEG monitor is picking up alpha and theta waves.
So this is the kind of signature brain activity that you kick off when you're relaxed, when you're not trying, when you're not thinking too much, when you're not exerting effort, you kick off more alpha and theta waves.
The way the game is set up is the more alpha and theta waves you produce, the more force you exert on the ball.
So the way to win at Mindball is to not try to win. And it's fiendishly difficult to do. So the first time I played, I put on the net, I close my eyes, I relaxed.
And you can hear the ball moving around, but I couldn't see where it was. And finally I opened my eyes.
And I was winning. The ball was most of the way toward the other end of the table. And I thought, oh, I'm winning. I'm good at this.
As soon as I thought that the ball stopped, it was like it could read my mind and started rolling back toward me.
And then I started panicking. I was like, relax, relax. And that, of course, just made it worse. And, you know, I lost terribly.
So I was playing with a neuroscientist who runs this exhibit. And she completely crushed me.
And she said afterwards her strategy, she just knows that you can't look, you can't care.
She would just go into the zone where she would think about a vacation that she had at a beach that she really enjoyed once.
And, but what I love about mine ball is it compresses into the smallest possible space.
This tension, you know that the only way to win is to relax.
But consciously trying to relax is impossible.
Ted had discovered something that many of us have also found.
Sometimes the best way to get something is to stop trying to get it.
When we come back, the science of why effort can sometimes backfire.
You're listening to Hidden Brain, I'm Shankar Vedanta.
This is Hidden Brain, I'm Shankar Vedanta.
Edward Slingerlin is a professor of philosophy at the University of British Columbia.
He's the author of Trying Not to Try, Ancient China, Modern Science, and the Power of Spontanity.
Ted, social scientists often say the human mind operates in two modes, system one or system two.
What are these two systems? How do they work?
So system one is sometimes called hot cognition. These are all the automatic processes that we are running all the time.
And the vast majority of human cognition is hot. When we are walking down the street, when we're picking up a glass, we're not consciously thinking about how to do this.
So those are the hot systems. System two or cold cognition, it's conscious. It's effortful. It takes time. It's slow.
And this is when we're consciously thinking about something or we're trying to stop a hot process that we don't want to do.
We want to turn it into something else. So these two systems work together. But most of what's going on is that hot system one cognition.
So psychologists like Daniel Coniman who wrote the book Thinking Fast and Slow, they argue that the cool headed system two with its careful cognition can save us from the errors and biases of the hot headed system one.
Would you agree with that thesis Ted?
In certain contexts, it's certainly the case that the hot system leads us astray. And so Coniman Tversky did a lot of work on how we need our cold cognition to fix our hot systems or just override them completely.
And so the early work on this, I think, tended to overlook why we have hot cognition in the first place. In other words, I think didn't give adequate attention to the power and the importance of hot cognition.
As a general rule, society constantly tells us we should tamp down our intuitive automatic thinking, our hidden brain, if you will, and prioritize effortful, deliberate, analytical thinking.
Schools teach us to think before we act, workplaces encourage us to filter what we say. The rules of social interaction highlight the importance of courtesy, politeness, and social norms.
Over time, many of us get very good at these skills. So good, in fact, that we find it difficult to turn off logical, deliberate, effortful thinking.
That's useful in a boardroom, but turns out to be a liability when you're trying say to put yourself to sleep.
So you are tossing and turning, you have a big meeting tomorrow or just worried about something, and you need to shut your conscious mind down. And so you tell yourself, relax, relax.
The problem is the part of your brain that you're trying to shut down is in fact the part you're activating when you're trying. And this is why insomnia is very difficult to get around, especially when the thing presenting you from sleeping is your mind that you need to shut down.
And people come up with various strategies to get around this, counting sheep or paying attention to your breath.
But if there was a really easy solution to this, we would all know about something with tennis. I mean, I know that I'm most effective at tennis when I'm relaxed and just not caring. And yet, if I double fault, I get all tense and annoyed at myself.
And part of my brain is scholarly part of my brain is like, hey, dude, this is a try not to try situation, relax. And yet you can know that consciously and it doesn't really help you.
So you're a fan of the great tennis player, Roger Federer, and you've asked yourself what would happen in a game if an athlete like Federer started thinking too much.
Do you think that even at the elite level when players start to think about what they're doing, it can get in the way of that game?
Especially at the elite level. So there's there's a huge literature on this. I mean, at high level tennis, these are people who've been playing since they were kids.
They've completely mastered these skills. And it's entirely a mind game at that level of tennis. It's all about really who can out relax the other person.
And supposedly, I don't know if this is a myth, but John McEnroe was kind of not the nicest tennis player in the world. He apparently took advantage of this. So the rumor is that if he was playing someone in their serve was really great when they change sides and he was walking by them, he'd say, hey, hey, your serve is really great today.
What are you doing? Something different and getting their heads and they start thinking about it. Am I doing something different? Wait a minute. And then they couldn't serve anymore.
So the great jazz musician, Charlie Parker, was a believer in going with the flow. And I'm wondering if music, especially music that is improvised, might be another domain where overthinking can lead to problems.
People in sports and music and performance, they're obsessed with this because they know that the only way to do certain things well is to relax into them.
So if it works well, it's only because everyone's kind of giving up really trying to drive it themselves. They're just listening intensely. And they kind of know like the piano knows when it's time to take over and when it's time to give it up.
And it's a very delicate dance that only works if everyone's relaxed, everyone's genuinely involved. And no one's interposing their ego into the process.
You know, Charlie Parker is supposed to have one said, don't play the saxophone, let it play you, which is of course probably easier said than done. But I can easily imagine the same thing being true and stand up comedy or acting if you're in the theater. If you're too conscious about what it is that you're doing, presumably it's going to get in the way of your interpretation of the character.
Absolutely. So people in improv are obsessed with this problem, right? Because improv, you're out there without a net and you don't know necessarily what you're doing.
The only way to do it well is to really get absorbed, to really let your partners drive it, to not try to be funny, let funny this happen.
So it's going to let the saxophone play you, you have to let the jokes play you, you have to let the situation dictate what your next step is.
I understand that you encountered this tension in your early 30s when you were trying to learn to dance the salsa. Tell me about that Ted, what happened?
Oh God. That was terrible.
I just couldn't do it. And I was taking these lessons with this instructor who got really annoyed with me and she kept saying just relax.
You're thinking too much. And the more she told me to relax, the tensor I got. It just was this terrible vicious circle.
So dancing, anything, anything where you're, anything where to be successful, you have to surrender to some extent.
And to dance well, you can't be thinking about the steps, you can't be thinking about what you look like.
You can't be thinking about anything at all really. You need to just let the music move your body and you have to surrender.
And this instructor constantly telling me to relax, made it impossible for me to do that.
Yeah. I mean, I think the challenge here is that there are situations where we care so much about the outcome that it's really difficult to an effect not care about the outcome.
You know, I'm thinking about job interviews or first dates. You know, these are situations that carry enormous weight.
People care about the outcomes of what happens. And of course, trying to harden these situations can convey an unappealing feeling of desperation.
Yeah, no, it's like trying to get a date. It's like the difference between match play and danger tennis.
When you care about the outcome, when you're attached to the, to use the language of the Bhagavad Gita, when you're attached to the fruits, you're not going to be in a state of effortless action.
Because you're just trying, you care too much about the goal instead of allowing yourself to be absorbed in the process. And, and how you turn that off is really at the center of this tension of how you can try not to try.
You know, one domain I think we all are in some ways familiar with where we see people sometimes trying too hard is in the domain of politics.
You know, politicians need to come across as spontaneous. They need to come across as authentic. But sometimes when they come across as controlled or effortful, they can come across as being untrustworthy or unappealing.
I want to play you a clip here of someone who ran for president of the United States a few years ago.
I think the next president needs to be a lot quieter, but send a signal that we're prepared to act in the national security interests of this country to get back in the business of creating a more peaceful world.
Please clap.
So, so that's a clip of former Florida, Governor Jeb Bush. What are you here in that clip, Ted?
I hear a stand up comic asking his audience to please let please laugh at that joke. And so in politics, you really see this tension where you could have someone who's incredibly qualified. They actually probably would be a great leader.
But they have problems relaxing and conveying that to ordinary people. I think this was this was the problem with Hillary Clinton is that she did not come off as relaxed and authentic.
And I think it's a real danger in politics right now. I mean Donald Trump, the guy just whatever kind of pops into his head comes out of his mouth.
And I think that's a that's a real part of his appeal is people have the sense that he is authentic. And there's a kind of charisma that comes with not having a filter with really just being who you are that people seem to find appealing.
So modern psychology has begun to explore the idea that in some domains our thinking can trip us up and get in the way of what we actually want to accomplish. The late great psychologist, Daniel Wagner, studied how difficult it was to think our way to spontaneity.
Tell me about his ideas, Ted.
Well, he's a great experiment where he asked people to not he said, don't think of a white bear. And if you save that to someone, they will think of a white bear.
His point was there's this paradoxical situation where you're activating the very concept you're trying to shut down.
And I learned about his work when I was writing, trying not to try because it's basically around it's about the same problem. This paradoxical fact that to when it comes to spontaneity.
If you are trying to achieve it, it's not going to work. And there's this this paradoxical relationship between effort and the goal that you're trying to achieve.
I understand that in another experiment, he asked people to part a golf ball. And he found that if you told people try to get it in the hole, but whatever you do, don't overshute the whole.
People systematically began to overshute the whole a lot more than if you didn't give them that instruction.
Again, in some ways, it's sort of the paradox of trying to put yourself to sleep and the more you try, the less you're able to sleep, the more you try and do something perfectly, the less well it sometimes turns out.
Yeah, his work was an important corrective, I think, to this idea that more effort is always good.
If you're not being successful in something, just put some more effort into it, try harder.
And that does work in some domains, we're just cranking it out is going to get you results.
But there are a lot of domains where that's not the case. And I think Dan Wagner did a great job of showing how there are certain types of human goals that just can't be directly attacked is like the butterfly of happiness.
If you try to capture it, it flutters away. You need to just let it come and sit in your hand.
And I don't think as a culture, we pay enough attention to the fact that there are really important goals in life that we're going to ruin if we try to attack them directly.
Thinking is a human superpower. It has helped us become the dominant species on the planet.
On a daily basis, thinking and planning and effort bring us innumerable benefits.
But like all aspects of human behavior, you can sometimes get too much of a good thing.
When we come back, techniques to stop overthinking. You're listening to Hidden Brain, I'm Shankar Vedantam.
This is Hidden Brain, I'm Shankar Vedantam.
We often believe the key to success is to relentlessly pursue our goals. Grit, determination and drive are indeed powerful tools to achieving success.
But there are many domains in life where these tools are not just ineffective, but actually counterproductive.
Edward Slingelin is a professor of philosophy at the University of British Columbia. He's the author of Trying Not to Try.
Ancient China, Modern Science and the Power of spontaneity.
Ted, early on in your study of philosophy, you encountered a passage written by the Enlightenment philosopher Emanuel Kant that made you think that Western philosophy had taken a wrong turn somewhere.
Tell me what you read and how it struck you.
There's a passage in the groundwork of the metaphysics of morals where Kant is talking about what he calls, I think, the amiable person.
Who is just good-natured and warm. And they help other people just out of the goodness of their heart.
They don't really think about it. They see someone in need. They help them out.
Kant says this person's okay, but their behavior is not properly moral.
Because for a Kant, for an action to really be moral, it has to be consciously chosen. You have to stop and you have to think, what does the categorical imperative say I should do?
And then you need to do it because the categorical imperative says you should do it.
So if you want to use that language of hot and cold, Kant believed that hot cognition had no moral qualities to it. And true morality had to spring solely from cold cognition, all through conscious choice.
And I remember reading that and just thinking it was nuts.
If I had two people and one of them helps me because they're amiable, they see that I'm in need and they want to help me. And the other person looks at me and says, okay, it's a categorical imperative say that I should help this person.
Yes, I'll help them.
I want the first person as my neighbor. I don't want to deal with the second person.
I mean, I understand his motivations. He was very worried about the variability of hot cognition and how it can lead us astray and all the kind of things that people like Kant and Tversky were worried about.
But I think he missed the fact that we need warmth. We need hot cognition and morality. And so that kind of turned me off on Western philosophy and sent me down a different path.
You know, I'm reminded of something that the Lebanese American poet Khalil Gibran once said in one of his poems he wrote, there are those who give with joy and that joy is their reward.
And there are those who give with pain and that pain is their baptism. And there are those who give and know not pain and giving nor do they seek joy nor give with mindfulness or virtue, they give as in Yanda Valley the mortal breeds its fragrance into space.
Through the hands of such as these God speaks and from behind their eyes, he smiles upon the earth.
Now, of course, that's poetry Ted not signs, but it does get at the same idea that unthinking generosity is in fact the best form of generosity precisely because it's spontaneous and unthinking.
That's beautiful. Yeah, so that's very much why I got into Chinese philosophy. So the early Chinese thinkers that I came to study in graduate school have actually the opposite ranking of Kant.
So there's actually a very interesting passage in one of these thinkers named Shunza, an early Confucian where he ranks moral people and the lowest level of being moral is the Kantian stage.
It's when you kind of know what ritual demands and you don't really feel like doing it, but you first yourself do it because ritual says so.
And Shunza says the true sage is someone who acts in a moral fashion in the way you surrender to the music of a dance when you're really dancing properly or you just are spontaneously relaxing into your environment.
That's true morality and that's a true Confucian sage so they have really the opposite valuation that we see in Western enlightenment thinking that we should be striving for.
So you say that many early Chinese philosophers were preoccupied with the question of effort versus spontaneity and many of these thinkers used a term called,
uwei, what is uwei, what does it mean to it literally means no doing or no striving. I translated it as effortless action and it's a state something like being in the zone as an athlete.
It's a state where you lose a sense of yourself as an agent, you lose a sense of the passage of time, you get absorbed into what you're doing.
You're not thinking about the results. That's effortless action. It's action that springs in a kind of spontaneous natural way. And in modern terms, we would say it's a state where your system to your cold cognition is not really involved.
Now, the sounds a lot like the modern concept of flow, which was introduced by the psychologist, Mihai Chixen, Mihai, which is that you lose yourself in the thing that you're doing. And as you extend effort, as you're doing this difficult thing, you sort of forget, you know, the passage of time hours go by and you feel like only minutes have gone by.
Is there a connection here between those two ideas?
Very much so. But the concept of who way is more expansive and helpful than the concept of flow. In the sense that Chixen, Mihai had a problem where he wanted to distinguish flow states from just sitting in front of the TV, fencing out or scrolling through Twitter or whatever.
We have these experiences that on the surface seem like flow states. So they have some of the hallmarks. We lose a sense of passage of time. We kind of lose a sense of ourselves. We get absorbed.
But we come out of it feeling crummy. Like we feel dirty or like we wasted our time.
So he doesn't want to call those states flow. And what he settled on was this idea of complexity and challenge. So he argues that what distinguishes flow states is that they're just the right level of complexity to challenge your skill level.
This fits certain flow states. So it fits rock climbing. It fits sports. But I think that his definition is too narrow. And so this is where I find the early Chinese concept or helpful.
So the early Chinese would argue that's what what is distinctive of an away experience is two parts. You've become absorbed into something that's bigger than you.
So you're absorbed into something larger than the narrow ego. It's something that you care about.
And this that explains playing with kids. You know, you love being with kids and you get absorbed in the game.
So I think it's a better definition because it captures the full spectrum of where we get into these away flow states.
So many of these early Chinese thinkers believe that a person in an away state radiated a certain quality. What was this quality?
So unfortunately in modern Mandarin, it's pronounced, which students sometimes giggle about. If I have to translate it, I would do it as charismatic power.
And if you're a confusion and you have, people want to follow you. They want to obey you. They want to they want to be part of your government. And you don't have to force them to do it.
If you're a Taoist, it's the power that allows you to relax everyone and get them to be natural instead of being unnatural as they are now.
So it's this power you have to affect other people. And in the early Chinese context, if you were in the state of a way, you're in harmony with heaven.
From a modern perspective, we can give a naturalistic interpretation of this connection between spontaneity and charisma.
And the connection is everything we just talked about in the first segment, why you can't get a date when you're trying hard, why politicians who seem to be trying too hard are unappealing to people.
Human beings are superbly attuned bull*** detectors.
We're constantly evaluating this sincerity and authenticity of the people we're interacting with. And we're built in such a way that we're attracted to people who are relaxed, people who seem confident, people who don't seem to have ulterior motives.
When I'm trying to insert myself in a conversation at a party, I don't have to know what's the talk to me. When I'm just relaxed and tired out after a long shift at work that went well, I'm in a state of a way and I have this power of duh.
So I think we can tell a very compelling cognitive scientific story that humans associate spontaneity with trustworthyness.
So besides the value of understanding how the ancient Chinese thinkers thought, that's interesting and valuable for its own sake, you argue that thinking about these terms in everyday life can also be useful.
That in some ways, knowing the terms and understanding what they mean, actually transforms many of the things that we do and you in fact use these terms in your daily life. You and your friends and colleagues actually deploy these terms.
And when you deploy them, you find that it changes your relationship to the things that you're doing.
Words are very helpful and pointing out gaps in our knowledge. So everyone experiences Shadun Foyde at some point, but we needed the Germans to give us a word for it.
So we borrow that term because it is pointing out something useful in our environment.
And I feel the same way about who way and there's no good translation for either term and English. And I think this is one powerful way in which Chinese philosophy helps us is it gives us a language for talking about this relationship between spontaneity and charisma or spontaneity and authenticity that is a bit of a blind spot in modern Western cultures.
There's a brain imaging study involving jazz musicians that tells us what's happening in the brains of people when they are in an away state. Tell me about the study.
What they found is that when the musicians were playing a set piece, so when they gave them particular music to play or when they were playing scales, everything's firing.
They're prefrontal cortex is firing. They're obviously exerting effort when they're invited to to improvise. So stop playing to your piece, just do whatever you want.
There's this interesting pattern where the prefrontal cortex of the center of cognitive control executive function doing things consciously. That part shuts down.
But what's interesting is the ACC, the anterior single cortex is very active. So it seems this seems to be the neural correlate of way where we're the PFCs shut off.
So we don't have the experience of effort or action. And yet we're alert and we're engaged and we're paying attention to what we're doing. And so it seems to be the state of kind of engagement, attention, but a feeling of no effort and no cognitive control.
So much of the story that you're telling me here, Ted, is about being less focused on ourselves and more focused on the things that we are engaged with, focused on the outside world.
You argue that in fact, a strategy for entering, who way, is to focus on the outside world rather than on ourselves. Talk about how you can do this.
You need to find something that you care about that's bigger than you. And that's going to be different things for different people.
So for me, it's, you know, it's the Northern California landscape colors of a shape of the hills. It's gardening. If I'm weeding chopping wood is great for that playing tennis. If it's danger tennis.
I'm not worrying about it too much. I'll get me into that state kayaking. I'm an ocean kayaker. I do kind of adventure kayaking. So I go out the ocean and essentially do whitewater kayaking in the ocean. So I ride waves over rocks and through channels and surf.
So I'm surrounded by this natural beauty. I have to be just completely focused on outside of me. I have to be looking at the ocean and not at me. But everyone can find some activity that will get them into a way.
I'm wondering if physical exertion is also valuable, Ted, because it's taking us out of our minds and into our bodies. I mean, when I'm doing push ups or running or playing harder to sport, it becomes harder to think.
Can you talk about this idea that one of the benefits of intense exercise is that it can actually lead us to away by essentially shutting down, if you will, some portion of the brain.
Yeah, so the neuroscientists are in a detrick did a lot of work on what he calls hypophrontality. That was looking at this phenomenon. So when you're stressing your body, our body says, okay, we need to really send some blood to the muscles into the heart.
And so this accounts for this experience, you know, long distance runners have of just euphoria.
You know, I get it through weightlifting where it's just at a certain point, the blood flow is not going to my neocortex anymore.
And I feel great. I feel exhilarated and absorbed into what I'm doing.
And this is a kind of tricky way to get into away what you're doing is using your body as a tool for indirectly shutting your mind down.
So a lot of people use alcohol as a way to shut their mind down. Is that a way of getting to away, Ted?
There's a story in the Zhuang's this early Taoist text that talks about a drunken man on a cart getting carried home from a party.
When he fall, he falls out of the cart, but he's not hurt. He didn't know that he was riding and he doesn't know that he's falling out.
So he is, he's protected because his spirit is whole.
And I remember reading that and thinking, oh, that's just something to have in college where a guy from a party at a friend of mine took a tumble down a slope and kind of popped up and bowed to us all and was like, tada.
Because he was so he was relaxed. He wasn't he didn't tense up, right. You get hurt when you fall when you tense up.
The Zhuang's a story concludes by saying if you can make your spirit whole in this way through alcohol, how much more so can you do it if you're drunk on heaven.
So in the Zhuang's it's very clearly just a metaphor that's kind of sacred power.
And you know, that's fine, but thinking about it more, I was like, but still alcohol is pretty good. It does the job in a lot of situations. You have to just drink this substance that will go into your bloodstream, go up to your brain and shut down your PFC for you.
And so I got interested in alcohol and other chemical intoxicants as cultural technologies that we've developed to essentially get around the paradox of trying not to try.
Ted credits alcohol with once helping him finish writing a book proposal. He had been stuck a long time, but something changed after he had a couple of stiff drinks.
I really felt like I was taking dictation, but what it really is is you're letting your subconscious, your hot cognition, which is really clever, which can see new possibilities.
You're letting it drive for a little while and not trying to do top down control.
And that's what sold the book. It's became the first few pages of the book. It's what everyone loves. And I don't think I ever could have gotten their pounding coffee and staring at my computer screen.
Edward Slingelin is a professor of philosophy at the University of British Columbia. He is the author of Trying Not to Try, Ancient China, Modern Science and the Power of Spontan 80.
Ted, thank you for joining me today on Hidden Brain.
Thanks for having me.
There is a powerful form of effortlessness that we have not yet explored. Think about all the people who spend years trying to learn a new language.
They take classes, spend time working with professors, pour over books in the library. Some go on lengthy foreign trips to immerse themselves in a new language.
It's all very effortful. Sadly, most people who try to learn a new language fail to do so.
But notice how nearly all of us, in the first year or two of our lives, miraculously pick up the language or languages spoken by the people around us.
Remember, this is at a time when we can barely stand. We might not know how to walk. We can't feed ourselves. But we effortlessly master something that adults take years and years to do.
How does this happen? And what can it teach us about the science of effortless action?
That and more are in our accompanying episode on Hidden Brain Plus. It's titled Letting Go.
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No matter which option you choose, your subscription helps us make many more episodes of the show. We're truly grateful.
Hidden Brain is produced by Hidden Brain Media. Our audio production team includes Annie Murphy Paul, Kristen Wong, Laura Quarelle, Ryan Katz, Autumn Barnes, Andrew Chadwick and Nick Woodbury.
Tara Boyle is our executive producer. I'm Hidden Brain's executive editor.
We end today with a story from our sister show, My Unsung Hero. It's brought to you by T-Mobile for Business.
Our story comes from Joy Diaz. Joy grew up in Mexico City. Although her parents were anything but wealthy, they devoted themselves to humanitarian work.
By collaborating with a network of people from around the world, they were able to support a community living in extreme poverty.
When I talk about extreme poverty, what I mean is these people lived inside the municipal garbage dump.
My parents had no money, but what they had was a lot of faith and they worked tirelessly to bring teachers and doctors to work into the garbage dump and help the people who live there.
Eventually, as time went by, my parents were able to build a clinic. They built a school. They built public showers. They built a dining hall.
All of that in the middle of the garbage dump. But while that was happening, we did not have a home. We were renters.
I remember one day one of those doctor missionaries. He flew into Mexico City, hopped in a taxi, came to the house, saw my mom and just gave her this paper bag full of money, full of cash.
I don't know how much money was in that bag. I am thinking about $50,000. He said, for many years, I've been wanting to buy a house for you.
So here's the money. Buy a house.
And because of his gift, we were able to move into a middle class neighborhood. And because of his gift, you know, the money that was spent in rent was now saved.
And I was able to go to college. And that changed not only the trajectory of my life, but I believe wholeheartedly that it changed the trajectory of generations.
Because today, my children live in a middle class neighborhood because I am college educated, because I am able to have a better job than I could have had before, you know, like it changed the trajectory of generations.
I want to say his name. My unsung hero is Jack Bloxham from Richmond, Virginia. I am forever grateful, Jack. Thank you.
Joy Diaz now lives in Austin, Texas. Today's my unsung hero story was brought to you by T-Mobile for Business. If you enjoy Hidden Brain, please take a moment and share your favorite episode with two or three people in your life.
What if my recommendations really make a huge difference in introducing new listeners to our work? We truly appreciate your support.
I'm Shankar Vedantum. See you soon.
