“The Mind Is Mainly Drawn to the Future”

“The mind is mainly drawn to the future.” So write Martin Seligman and John Tierney in “We Aren’t Built to Live in the Moment” in the New York Times on May 21, 2017. The article is based on the book Homo Prospectus of which Seligman is an author.

Well, is this a new idea about the mind? We know that when we are feeling anxious or overloaded, our mind is scrambling to avoid a danger or find a way out. I know that even in calm hours, my head streams possible conversations in which I come out ahead, drafts blog posts, and edits memories so they’ll look a little better the next time I replay them.

In the Buddhist tradition, in contrast, such future-fussing is mainly about cultivating the illusion of the self. We tangle ourselves up in the false realities of ego, time, words. Better to explore the moment, leave the worries aside. Meditation cultivates a sharper awareness of the present and of our shining mind. The future may seem to be out there, but it is the mindful moment that is real.

mind future (ideamappingsuccess.com)

(ideamappingsuccess.com)

Seligman and Tierney don’t criticize such Buddhist values directly, though the focus on the future-oriented brain contrasts sharply with them. Instead, they take exception to the emphasis in psychology on studying the brain in terms mostly of the past (memory, repetitive learning) and the present (perception). They assert that “Looking into the future, consciously and unconsciously, is a central function of our large brain….” We plan for tomorrow, we rehearse conversations, “We learn not by storing static records but by continually retouching memories and imagining future possibilities.” “Therapists are exploring new ways to treat depression now that they see it as primarily not because of past traumas and present stresses but because of skewed visions of what lies ahead.” And “Our brain sees the world not by processing every pixel in a scene but by focusing on the unexpected,” because what is unexpected might be a clue to what happens next.

This idea that we often understate the brain’s complex preparations for our future makes sense to me. No matter what other qualities of our mind we cherish, the brain’s critical function of scanning for danger and for biological necessities proceeds 24/7. As Darwin spelled it out,  we, like all organisms, are first about reproducing and surviving, and those are certainly future-oriented activities.

Thinking about the perpetually restless brain reminds me of taking our family’s young retriever Ginger for walks, years ago. My wife and I envisioned strolling around the neighborhood with Ginger calmly strolling with us. But what we got instead for the first year or three was a beast straining nonstop to charge ahead and away and pulling our arms practically out of the sockets. Eventually training and maturity sunk in a little and she walked more or less at our pace. But walking itself is a going into the future and Ginger was, like our ancient mind, never far from leaping into it.

 

“Comparison Is the Thief of Happiness”

“Comparison is the thief of all happiness*,” says former NFL star Joe Ehrmann in denouncing the pressures on boys to “be a man,” in the film The Mask You Live In. Messages overt and covert from fathers down to video games leave males of all ages struggling with loneliness and fury. Similar pressures, certainly, weigh on females and most other human groups. Comparing ourselves to others haunts and hurts us all.

comparison (fitzvillafuerte.com)

(fitzvillafuerte.com)

But there’s a catch: Comparison brings pleasure as well as pain. In How the Mind Works, psychologist Stephen Pinker concurs with the popular wisdom that “people are happy when they feel better off than their neighbors, unhappy when they feel worse off….You open your paycheck and are delighted to find you have been given a five percent raise—until you learn that your co-workers have been given a ten percent raise.” Happiness often lasts no longer than the tingle of the flattering comparison that brought it on.

So how are we to understand happiness if it is so frail, so dependent on where we stand in relation to others? Many people don’t puzzle over the nature of happiness very much; they view it as a self-evident goal that they can pursue, find, and remain in, as if it were a job or a house. “I just want to be happy.” I remember my surprise decades ago when a friend mentioned off-handedly that perhaps happiness is not the goal of life. The possibility had never occurred to me.

Happiness looks a little clearer quickly when we separate the two broad meanings of the word. One is satisfaction, as in “Overall, I’m happy with my life so far.” The other meaning is the emotional flush of joy or excitement, as in “happy dance.” Another kind of understanding of happiness and how to reach it, one that does not depend on comparison to others, is the practice of mindfulness that many find to be a path towards contentment and joy.

For me, the evolutionary perspective is also enlightening. If unhappiness comes at us in so many shapes while happiness remains so elusive, a reason may be that for any organism, many more things can go dangerously wrong than can go blissfully right. Pinker: “There are twice as many negative emotions (fear, grief, anxiety, and so on) as positive ones, and losses are more keenly felt than equivalent gains….[P]eople’s mood plummets more when imagining a loss in their lives…than it rises when imagining an equivalent gain….[H]appiness tracks the effect of resources on biological fitness. As things get better, increases in fitness show diminishing returns: more food is better, but only up to a point. But as things get worse, decreases in fitness can take you out of the game: not enough food, and you’re dead” (392).

So it’s not that happiness eludes us soley because comparisons steal it or we are incapable of finding it. It’s that we come into life in the first place equipped with alarm bells for all the gritty dangers and with only a selection of pleasures.

 

*Teddy Roosevelt is credited with the original version: “Comparison is the thief of joy.”

The Pioneers: Archaea and Bacteria

For many years I shared the common belief that living things fall into three or four basic categories. Besides plants and animals, one or two others groups with names that varied over the years—Bacteria, Protists, Prokaryotes— consisted of creatures too small to see.

phylogenetic tree wikipedia

In this evolutionary genetic tree, animals and plants, in the upper right corner, are not the main limbs.         (Wikipedia)

Today there are still three categories, called Domains, but they all refer to types of cells. The only familiar name is Bacteria. Plants and animals are now small dots in the huge Domain of Eukaryotes (you-CARRY-oats), meaning cells with a nucleus.

The third Domain is the Archaea. Archaea are like Bacteria in that they have no nucleus and are simpler, smaller and older than Eukaryotes. I’ve known so little about Archaea that I wasn’t sure how to say the word. Either AR-kee-ah or ar-KY-a is acceptable. That noun is plural; the singular is AR-kee-on, an Archaeon, sounding faintly of Star Wars.

So how are these Archaea so different from Bacteria that they get their own subdivision of living things? Biologist Carl Woese in 1977 argued they are indeed a different form of life. He showed that in much of their chemical make-up and their genetic sequencing, Archaea not only are distinct from Bacteria but are in some ways closer relatives than Bacteria to the Eukaryotic cells that form plants and animals.

I’ll describe a few features that Archaea and Bacteria have in common and then some features that are unique to Archaea. The information, from Wikipedia and elsewhere, is quite specialized and my renderings of it are admittedly general and selective.

Both Archaea and Bacteria are small, unstructured, and simple compared to the Eukaryotes that came after them. But one achievement they both share has been to try out nearly every possible chemical or environmental source possible to get their energy. Sunshine, salty water, temperatures ranging from volcanic to polar, even radioactive settings—varieties of Bacteria and especially Archaea have found ways to draw energy from, and live off of, these and many other environments.

Another similarity is that Archaea and Bacteria don’t reproduce sexually; two cells don’t mingle their genes to form a new individual that is slightly different from the parents. Instead, individual cells just multiply themselves by two and then divide to form identical clones. But despite their reproductive sameness, they had—and have—a different trick for switching up their DNA. A Bacterium or Archaeon can pump some of its DNA into another cell. Or a cell can just pick up a bit of DNA floating near it. No merging, no swapping, just fresh ingredients. It’s one reason that antibiotic-resistant bacteria in hospitals can spread their immunity to other bacteria so quickly.

archaea hot springs yellowstone nationa park (earth-chronicles.com)

Archaea at home in a Yellowstone hot spring.       (earth-chronicles.com)

This gene-sharing is called lateral gene transfer, and it has an interesting feature. It doesn’t have to take place between members of the same species. For animals and plants, successful sexual reproduction almost always takes place within one species. But DNA can be transferred from any Bacterium or Archaeon to any other variety in those Domains if the conditions are right. If plants and animals could do that, the mind boggles. You might see squirrels transferring some of their DNA into dandelions. Or vice-versa. Such promiscuity makes it easier, I think, to imagine how Bacteria and Archaea have evolved in so many different kinds and colors in so many different environments.

Despite their similarities, though, Archaea are distinct from Bacteria in notable ways. Archaea were first discovered in extremely hostile environments where Bacteria fear to tread: geysers, intensely salty water, even thermal vents at 251 degrees F, the hottest place any organism has been found living. Another feature is that, while some varieties of both Archaea and Bacteria get their energy from light, Archaea do it their own way, through a process unrelated to the photosynthesis that Bacteria passed on to plants. Importantly, too, only Archaea produce methane, essential to organic decomposition. Finally, while many Bacteria can make us sick—think Lyme, Cholera, Syphilis—Archaea may be nicer; no pathogenic Archaea have been discovered, so far.

Archaea and Bacteria had the Earth to themselves for well over a billion years. Then about 2 billion years ago, Eukaryotes appeared, evolving from their single-celled predecessors but larger and internally more developed. By then, Archaea, like Bacteria, had carried out much of the groundwork for living, pioneering what it takes to survive in different conditions, experimenting with energy sources, trying out each other’s genetic parts.

And they succeeded. They didn’t fade away after the sophisticated Eukaryotes began evolving into countless large species. Today, the total mass of Archaea and Bacteria on earth is at least equal to the mass of all the plants, animals and other organisms together. They got the basics right.