instinct – Becoming Human

Dealing with Life’s Decisions – (1) Blinded by Science

This piece is the first in two on the question of how to make decisions in life.

Some decisions we simply take too hastily, using cognitive shortcuts pre-programmed in our brains, and we would benefit from slowing down, thinking them through, applying a structured decision framework to them, and so on. A good example of this class of decision problem is investment. Provided you can frame the problem narrowly enough – i.e. that logically prior issues have been solved – investment decisions will be improved by thinking them through, because they will be freed from several cognitive errors which typically characterize them. This type of problem is simple and much has been written on it, so I will put it aside.

I also want to put temporarily aside the “big decisions” of life – whether and whom to marry, whether to have children and how many, and so on. These decisions will have consequences which, obviously, you cannot compute when taking them. I will reincorporate this type of decision in the second piece in this series.

In this article I want to look at decisions which are more everyday, which obviously may also have uncomputable effects (you sign up for the art class, at which you meet someone who changes your life) but which are usually designed to have more prosaic ones. For example: which classes to take at school; which sports to practice; dietary regime and so on. These are decisions in relation to which a certain amount of “evidence” exists, but where this evidence is not conclusive. Those are most decisions in life, and there is a reason why we have evolved cognitive short cuts to deal with them. It is not my intention to argue that there is nothing to be gained from applying more structured thinking to this type of decision (or other decision heuristics which go beyond “gut feeling”). What I do wish to do is to show that, almost inevitably, we think about this sort of decision in the wrong way. In short, we are so conditioned to acknowledge the supremacy of “rational” reasoning over our instincts that in fact we allow ourselves to be swayed by arguments which have the appearance of rationality but suffer from shortcomings which are so pervasive and fundamental that we would almost always do better to ignore these arguments altogether.

I am going to take an entirely typical example, of the kind we encounter many times on a daily basis, at least if we try to keep ourselves abreast of the news. Let us say we read a journalistic article, purported itself to be based on a scientific article, reporting on certain alleged health benefits of yoga. Those benefits speak to some issues or concerns we have with our own health, and so the idea has been put in our minds of giving yoga a go. Should we?

Please note that this example is just that. The media disseminates claims like this all the time. For example, we might read that playing a musical instrument is associated with higher intelligence. Or that bilingualism is negatively correlated with Alzheimer’s. Or that a diet rich in proteins results in more durable weight loss. And so on, and so on (I made all those examples up just to give the flavour of the type of truth claims we are dealing with and the problem which they pose).

Now, let us suppose that the underlying scientific study is at least correctly carried out and that the journalist has not entirely misrepresented its conclusions. Those are already two hefty assumptions which may or may not apply, but the context may give us an indication as to the confidence we can have that they indeed hold (for example, this is, ceteris paribus, more likely to be true of an article on the BBC than in the Daily Mail). What errors may we still make if, on this basis, we allow the article to modify our behavior?

A whole host.

Changing behavior has costs. There are the obvious direct costs, which may be greater or less depending on the case: in the yoga example they are likely to be fairly limited (yoga subscription, transit to the class, kit….). But then, there are also the sizeable opportunity costs. Yes, this may be a good use of my time, but is it the best use? Do I need to pre-commit resources up front?

This question cannot be answered unless you know what your priorities are: those outcomes which will make the biggest difference in your life. Ideally, that would be a pre-existing exercise. But even if you know you need to address a particular issue – say high blood pressure – and the evidence presented in the article actually shows some efficacy for the course of action in question (yoga), you can still go very wrong. By plumping for yoga, you go with the availability heuristic, which privileges the course of action you just heard of over what you might need to do more work to identify. By taking action, you lessen cognitive dissonance, and therefore the nagging feeling inside which might have prompted you to do more serious research or thinking customized to your own situation. Yoga will work on some cellular pathways, but those are certainly not the only factors involved in giving rise to your condition. There may be much more important ones, but ones which you are much more resistant to addressing – say your work, your relationships or where you live.

Even if the information is accurate, it has neither been produced, nor has it reached you, by chance. Someone decided to test a particular yoga program (which may have nothing to do with what is on offer in your locality). They did so because they have a predisposition to finding a favourable effect from yoga. But the same favourable effect might be produced in any of a number of other, unresearched ways – a problem which is particularly acute if the mechanism of action is not elucidated or hypothesized subject to a great degree of speculation. So there is a selection bias. This cannot be ruled out on the part of the media either, and if you got the article second hand, say through Facebook, your friend has also selected it in preference to others – with what reason?

In addition, the study may very well be partly or entirely attributable to the placebo effect (which is a great effect, but could be produced in other ways), with remaining variation explained by factors which yoga shares with other forms of exercise and/or other spiritual practices. The participants in the study may have self-selected, and therefore share attributes which differ from those of the population in general, and perhaps also from you. For example, imagine that those who do yoga are twice as likely to be vegetarian. Correlation is not causation: it could be their diet that explains all or part of the variation observed. You, in any case, are not Ms or Mr Average – you are older or younger, fitter or less fit. Yoga may be a fit for your other activities, or it may duplicate the benefit of them.

Now, I am certainly not saying you shouldn’t do yoga, nor that it doesn’t have benefits. I am saying that it’s almost worthless to read the article, and it may be worse than worthless to produce or distribute it. This article has in all likelihood not given you any new information at all. All it has done is make an incremental contribution to the “brand” of yoga as perceived by you. This, by itself, is not the core of the problem, however. The core is the idea you have that science should be your main tool to solve the problem you started out with. Although you have this idea, you have not in fact been scientific at all. You could have been more scientific – for example, read a book that discusses a series of approaches to your problem. That would probably have been a good idea (the article you read was not some kind of breaking news, so no need to be afraid that the book would be out of date). But even if you had done this, the problem would still have been orders of magnitude too complex for you to decide it on the basis of science alone. You not only will decide it on the basis of factors which you cannot really rationalize. But this is the only way to decide it. All the research you can possibly do is merely preparation, hopefully valuable preparation to make a better decision (there is, of course, a trade-off with the time you invested), but it will never provide an algorithm which decides on your behalf. Some people will choose to view this irreducible subjectivity as a lamentable concession to human nature. But, as I will explore in part two, it seems to me that all of the alchemy which turns research into outcomes is there, in the giddying sovereignty of the moment of decision.

Science, just like the mind, is a tool; something else – you – must be in the driving seat. Positivism is unscientific. Science makes a contribution, and yet if you have the belief that your decisions should be guided by science, it is very likely that, in combination with cognitive and selective biases, you in fact are led into decisions which are worse than those you would have made had you not had this belief at all.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act…
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response…

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow

T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men

Sacred sexuality

Amongst those interested in tantra, there is often a tendency to view sacred union in an abstract, metaphysical way which rarely corresponds to people’s experience. This is particularly so when tantra is repackaged as feel-good practices for couples. The striving after cosmic orgasm in union becomes, I have no doubt, a complete illusion for many, which entirely masks the essential radicalism which tantra embodies.

I suggest that, in so doing, we reify an abstraction, while allowing ourselves to maintain an ambiguous relationship towards that which concretely points towards it – its sociobiological context.

A sacred approach to sexuality has to begin at the roots and must be absolutely free of any social discourse which attempts to frame its expression. Transcendence in union, I suggest, is the end result of a process that begins in our bodies. We often try to judge and direct this process, either suppressing sexual instincts or, on the contrary, obsessively stimulating our sexual imagination in order to obtain a response which is not organically present. However, like everything else in life, we cannot productively force sexual feeling either into being or into non-being; we must let it come to us, bestow its gifts, and lead where it will.

We fear the destination of a liberated sexuality only because we bring to it too little awareness or we emancipate ourselves only from a part of the oppressive framing discourse. So many voices in society tell us that if we feel something then it “must mean” X, or if we do not feel it then it “must mean” Y. But feeling a sexual response preordains absolutely nothing, and presents a useless degree of risk only if you are not ready to be free. Otherwise it shows only that you are alive, and offers a bliss beyond analysis, just as does any other transcendent experience such as a sunset, a butterfly, or the laughter of a child. We are always free to choose how we respond to any stimulus, and to my mind this response, whilst not unimportant, is secondary. We may often be lying to ourselves if we claim to admit the feeling but manage the response, but still it is fundamentally true that no feeling requires a certain response. It merely opens our eyes to something that our biological nature wants, to a certain beauty which is already present within.

We cannot claim to consider the sexual act as sacred unless we begin by honoring the drive and allowing it to lead us into plenitude. It may well be a hard teacher, but if we are serious about living in alignment with our nature then we must embrace all of its wisdom and teachings. I see the sexual drive as an inner guru attempting to lead us into the light, but one which is so often suppressed that its distorted, violent manifestations are frequently catastrophic – a fault which is roundly to be ascribed to the distorting discourse and not to the drive itself.

To allow this energy to guide us, it is clear to me, though, that we have to abandon mononormativity. We need also, though, to maintain an incredible openness of heart and hence vulnerability; this is the only way that we will learn lessons and not simply get hurt. Paradoxically it is only by opening ourselves to feeling pain in the short run that we can avoid it predominating over the long run.

This process of opening up has of course to take place in stages. I am not advocating a great leap forwards, and it is fine for me that all sorts of things exist which allow people to take things at their own pace, and even take time out or place limits which they never deconstruct. However, I do not think that it is ethically justified, as some do, to market something in a form which does not make sense just because it allows people indefinitely to maintain a comfortable illusion.

In my opinion, mononormative tantra is simply an oxymoron. Either you remain behind in your nest, or you abandon yourself to the winds.

On the economics of therapy

The basic elements of effective personal development: bodywork, meditation and support.

In conceiving ones pathway to personal growth and healing, I think it is important to have a proper understanding of the processes involved, an understanding which is frequently lacking.

In a few words, my understanding is as follows. Within the bodymind there are two processes, both of which are needed because they depend on and reinforce each other and the end result is a product of the two. These can be characterized as a feminine and a masculine process. The feminine process involves softening of internal obstacles to the flow of energy, whether these be biophysical obstacles such as muscular hypertonicity or psychic obstacles in the form of existing representations at the conscious or subconscious level – such as the idea that certain behavior is wrong, that one should conform to certain norms, and so on. The masculine process involves increasing the quantitative level of life energy in the body so that these obstacles come under pressure from within, eventually leading to their crumbling or collapse. In terms of this masculine process there is no distinction between the body and the mind.

A simple physical model of this is as follows. We can think of water behind a dam, the release of which can be achieved both by weakening the structure of the dam and by increasing the weight of water bearing down upon it. Or we can think of the process of birth, where hormonal secretions soften the cervix which then opens under the weight of the embryo and the uterine contractions which increase the pressure applied to it.

As energy starts to flow, the process becomes self-reinforcing. We can think of water which, denied its route of least resistance, its natural pathway of flow, by the presence of the dam finds other pathways to bring rainfall to the sea. As the dam weakens, more and more of the rainfall will recommence flowing through its natural channel to the detriment of the diverted routes which had been previously established (this process of diversion is called in Freudian terms displacement).

Our bodies and our minds are always trying to rebuild the dams which we through our therapeutic endeavors wish to weaken. Many factors keep these dams in place. However, all of these factors are themselves due to displacement, because damming vital energy on a long term basis is not natural. (We can indeed restrain our vital energy over the short term by natural processes, under the force of the Reality Principle whereby expression is put off when its immediate expression would have negative consequences. We will also naturally channel that energy in different directions, partly by conscious choice and partly prompted by emotions, so that for example the energy is available to respond to a threat. This ability to control the flow of energy constitutes the biological basis for what is expressed pathologically in neurosis.)

It follows from this that there is always a weakest link in the line of defenses keeping the dams in place. This is the easiest and possibly only route to circumventing the process whereby the body heals breaches in its psychological defenses, and indeed builds stronger defenses if necessary. A direct confrontation of the front line of defense is quite counterproductive, but it may happen that when the underlying restorative mechanisms are weakened sufficiently, the whole edifice is at some point swept away.

At the deepest level, these mechanisms are representational. It is because we believe certain incorrect things about the world that we build inappropriate defenses. Only when we build new representations to replace these beliefs will we stop supplying the neurosis with the energy it needs to resist the energy naturally brought to bear on it by life processes.

All of this implies, I think, that we need to integrate two tracks in our work on ourselves.

Bodywork increases the quantitative level of energy in the body and corresponds to the masculine part of the process. All types of bodywork can help, but the most effective will be that which builds energy and allows it to circulate in the core life centers of the body, namely the pelvis where sexual energy is generated and which is at the crossroads of the flow of energy in the body and therefore the position which most naturally acts as a bottleneck.

Of course by bodywork I do not mean simply any physical practice. The practice must be appropriate, grounded and conscious to avoid being merely a vehicle to reinforce existing tensions. If it is not conscious, it will be manipulated by the mind to this end, or at least rendered inoperative.

The body will always reuse existing scripts if it can. Thus for example while a practice such as running may be marvellously energizing and, aside from its possible opportunity cost, is certainly not to be discouraged, it will not correct disequilibria in the body unless the body has really been deprived of this type of exercise before. Just as there are many ways to skin a cat, there are also many ways to run; the body is always going to use the method it already knows unless this method is not available to it. Thus if the physical movement relies disproportionately on certain muscle groups and inadequately on others, it will continue to do so because this is a perfectly viable, even if not the most natural, way to perform the task in question.

This means that running may be helpful, and there is no doubt that in principle it can lead to increased blood flow in the pelvis, but it is certainly not going directly to the heart of the problem. In order to do this you need to invite your body to do things which, while natural (if perhaps exaggerated for therapeutic purposes), it is not used to doing and therefore has no readily available script to deal with. Consciousness in this process helps to construct new neural pathways which can progressively replace, or remove the excessive strain on, the old.

Whilst bodywork is therefore an indispensable part of an effective therapeutic process, it is important to understand that it is really not adequate alone. I do not believe that bodywork is going to reprogram, in any reasonable span of time, representations in the psyche. Only the psyche itself can do this and in order to do so it needs to be exposed to a reality which is inconsistent with its prior assumptions, in a way which is safe enough to allow it to relax into the invitation which this situation provides to experience new ways of seeing the world.

This is, at a very general level, and as properly understood, the role of meditation. The choice of meditation is, however, hardly to be left to chance. Meditations should be, to a large degree, sexual and embodied. This is for the simple reason that the faulty representations are, to a large degree, sexual and disembodied. Where faulty representations are not directly sexual in nature, they are still sexual at a secondary level. Thus for example we may have a faulty representation of threats to our physical integrity, but as a result of this faulty representation a degree of sexual stasis has also resulted. Moreover, all such representations result in avoidance of behavior which sexual expression calls for, namely contact, intimacy, empathy and so on. I shall have more to say on this in a future post.

Again, both the problem and its solution are fairly easy to understand. We all know that if we are afraid of something in particular we will normally be able to overcome that fear by approaching the situation and becoming familiar with it, until we realize that our fear was not justified. If necessary, we start with baby steps or we take an indirect route. But eventually we become comfortable in the situation we had feared. Progressively, we change the internal representation that we have of the world, and the old one disappears.

To take a trivial (if for me painful) example, I for a long time was afraid to urinate with someone watching. This impeded my ability to use public urinals and was beyond my conscious power to change. This type of blockage is only going to be released by actually engaging in the activity in question under circumstances which are safe enough to relax and drop the subconscious conditioning at the root of the problem. Even if we frequently avoid doing so, it really is very easy in principle. You just find someone you trust, name the problem (by itself an important step), and ask them if they would be willing to observe you urinating. If it is too hard for you, you could ask them to start by watching from behind a curtain, or using a webcam, or merely be present while looking the other way, or whatever you can think of that is sufficiently below the blocking pain threshold not to activate the unwanted reflex. And you take it from there. To actually do this encounters some psychological resistance, but it is not really difficult if you want to.

This is where the methods of tantra come in. These methods may seem physical, and you may even be tempted to label them bodywork (correctly, of course, for a part of the methods). Yet these methods are really working on our false representations of the world in order to replace them with more flexible psychic structures which allow us to experience the world naturally, whilst still safely, especially in the dimension of sexuality and intimacy. Experience of the world as it really is naturally builds trust in our instinctive nature, because we see that this nature is in fact consistent with possibilities in the outside world, and not, as we had always supposed, inconsistent. This recreates the bridge, which in fact becomes an increasingly permeable membrane, between our inner world and the outer world, so that we can recognize these as two aspects of the same reality and move between them fluidly. In this way we have an embodied presence in the world, and not a disembodied antagonism to it. Our needs for intimacy are met and we become increasingly confident that they will always be met. From this reestablishment of trust is borne compassion.

Therefore I think it is really important to recognize and acknowledge ones needs and blockages in relation to sex and intimacy and of course not to hurtle in to situations which may be retraumatizing, but to find a way back to this source of ones being.

In this process, an exclusive preference for bodywork, which I encounter not infrequently, reveals enduring resistance to psychic change and only underlines the need for a complementary approach targeting the heart, emotions and senses. Bodywork is psychologically easy because it typically confronts nothing in ones relation to the other. It is an individual practice. Meditation can only be relational in nature, because psychic representations are relational in nature. Psychic representations, unlike physical representations, do not concern the organization of our body in its physical autonomy, but rather how we relate to others around us. This framework is largely a sovereign abstraction of the mind. It has some use in regard to real threats, but is dysfunctional in relation to imaginary threats. If we wish to change it, we need to allow ourselves to perceive their imaginary nature and reestablish the trust which we have lost.

As we move, of course, along this path, psychic material which underpins these representations may surface, together with the corresponding emotions (i.e. the affect). I am not trying to suggest that it is easy (or even appropriate) simply to plough ahead at such moments. Special talents are needed to help people safely and quickly through these occurrences. It is important to understand that there is not, as such, any psychic danger from this happening, at least in the vast majority of cases which are short of psychiatric in nature. It is only a question of the rate at which one makes progress, because these are critical moments in which either breakthroughs can be achieved or, conversely, one can slip back and have to start again (not of course from scratch, but the material will recede into the subconscious and this is evidence that it has not been processed and continues to affect the psyche). Whence the benefit of an experienced facilitator, coach or therapist.

So that’s the recipe: conscious bodywork (including breathwork), embodied and sexual meditation (once this type of meditation has reached its goal it can be replaced or complemented by others), plus ideally someone you can rely on to help you through the more challenging moments.

Good luck everyone 🙂

Why eschewing religion is a prerequisite of spirituality

It is a glorious spring day in Brussels today, inviting to indulge a certain melancholy over the passage of time and the meaninglessness of existence.

In melancholy we sense, simultaneously, the beauty of both life and death; it may, if we let it, overwhelm us. But usually we are too frightened to let go.

This fear of being our mortal selves and clinging on to our misperception of separateness finds its origin in the survival instinct of animals. But although our biological nature impels us to seek to survive, it does not mandate fear when that survival is not threatened or simply because, ultimately, we all will die. Mortality anxiety takes root in a misformation of the ego.

Consciousness is not life without fear, but it is life without fear of fear. We know fear to be instinctive and survival to be a basic drive, but we also know that whether or not we survive, existence will go on. We know ourselves to be a tiny part of existence and this only now; and yet, if we are aware, a vital part, in a sense, however, which transcends vastly our self-identification.

Such awareness is the goal of spiritual practice; it is embodied spirituality. But our spiritual drive and our mortality anxiety are expertly captured and deviated by religion. Theistic religion promises an absurdity, namely the survival of the soul as a differentiated entity. In order to achieve this absurdity, devotees are ready to accept the most insane of sacrifices. Living is fully subordinate to an illusory survival. Even the Eastern doctrines of karma and reincarnation are not much different. Indeed they are possibly worse, since existence is seen as a chore which colossal efforts are required to escape.

Religion is not only the opium of the people; it is predatory on their enslavement and the sworn enemy of their emancipation. Today, take time to live, to experience one exquisite moment fully. The ecstatic character of life in which we partake is our birthright and the sole immensity there is.