Anticipation has been described as “emotional rehearsal for possible future situations”. At the moment I am emotionally rehearsing for a holiday to Iceland, getting excited by imagining floating lumps of ice in frozen lakes and exploding geysers.
Research into anticipation shows that we get more excited about picturing a future experience than anticipating a future material purchase. People feel less excited about waiting to receive a shiny thing they have bought than waiting to have an experience they have paid roughly the same amount for.
Studies also suggest that we get more intense feelings of pleasure from anticipating something than we do reminiscing about the same event. The same is also true for negative experiences: our anticipation of them is worse than our recollection of them. Van Boven and Ashworth showed just this in 2007, by devising a series of five experiments, asking people for their recollections and their anticipations of a diverse range of experiences, including a hypothetical skiing holiday, an annoying noise, and menstruation. People’s feelings before all of the events were reported as stronger than their feelings afterwards.
In a similar vein, a classic experiment from the eighties by Loewenstein showed that people were willing to pay three times as much to kiss their favourite celebrity if it was three days in the future, instead of immediately, suggesting they wanted to be able to savour the anticipation of the snog as well as the snog itself.
These studies highlight how much more fun we can get out of doing things than buying things, and they also make me think about the virtue of advance planning. If we can see a positive experience coming towards us from over the horizon then we can squeeze even more pleasure out of it than if it takes us by surprise. It might be worth booking a few more holidays in for next year.
It smells of back to school today. There is something about the change of season from Summer to Autumn that makes me feel, even in my mid-thirties, that I should be buying a new pencil case and trying on new shoes.
Research on memory suggests that smells are very powerful cues. One study, by Willander & Larrson, gave 93 older adults one of three different types of memory cue: a word, a picture, or a smell. The researchers asked the adults to relate any event from their life to the cue. The memories triggered by the smells were older than those triggered by the words or pictures. Smell-triggered memories were mostly from the first 10 years of life, whereas word or picture-triggered memories were most from early adulthood. The older adults who took part reported more of a sense of going back in time with the smells, and also reported that the memories they recalled were ones they hadn’t thought about as much as the memories that the words or pictures brought up.
I remember the night before the new term started as being quite terrifying, even though I liked school in general. I wonder if the smell of Autumn means that there is a collective feeling of that same anticipatory anxiety for us all as grown ups at this time of year. An excuse to have a minor existential crisis and not feel bad about it, perhaps. Or at least to buy a new coat.
Lovely to have this longform piece published by Mosaic Science a few weeks ago – have a read if you’re interested in how some children survive and thrive despite difficult childhoods.
I’ve been behind with posting on here recently so here are a few links of some things I’ve been up to:
Huffing about on Huffington Post on The NHS Bill here.
Chatting online for the Guardian with other health and social care professionals about the use of mindfulness here.
Blogging about how we can get a sense of perspective by thinking like an astronaut here.
I’m now away in Shropshire on a writing week, enjoying the sound of sheep and the English sun, working on a longer thing on child development. There’s a longform piece brewing too – with Mosaic Science later this month, so I’ll be sure to publish the link here when it’s up – the 21st of June I think.
The National Institute for Health and Care Excellence (NICE) write guidelines which draw together available evidence and make recommendations for what treatments are best for different diagnoses.
A recent article in The Lancet suggests that the guidelines they wrote for bipolar disorder are biased in favour of recommending psychological therapies without enough evidence. One of the authors wrote a piece for The Guardian about this critique.
I wrote a response from a clinical perspective, about why I hope that this critique will encourage more research in this area, not limit access to psychological therapies. Have a look here if you’re interested.
NICE are writing a response to the critique soon too – so the conversation is just starting.
Two posts on Huffington Post from me about The Psychology of Making a Change and The Psychology of Sticking to a Change.
Useful for trying to keep those New Year Resolutions…
Mindfulness has been written about loads in the last few years. From some of the articles you’d think it was a magical cure all, and perhaps inevitably, it seems to me that recently the worm has turned, and people have got bored, or irritated, with mindfulness.
Only a few weeks ago I was interviewed by a CQC inspector who rolled his eyes when I said that I ran a mindfulness group on the ward where I work. He was fed up of hearing about mindfulness, which reminded my of this piece a few weeks back by Eva Wiseman, on how she’s had enough of mindfulness colouring books being sent to her. To me, the backlash is interesting for a few reasons:
- Reasons behind the backlash. The pattern here feels familiar to me – setting something up to be brilliant then rubbishing it, when the reality is somewhere in the middle (as the evidence base suggests).
- The experience. The boredom and irritability that people describe feeling about mindfulness actually reminds me a bit of what it’s like to sit and practice mindfulness sometimes. It isn’t about having a blank mind, it’s about having your mind as usual, watching your mind do its thing, which often is boring, or annoying, and not always calm and peaceful.
- The idea of mindfulness having grand claims. Mindfulness itself has never claimed anything – it just is. It isn’t mindfulness practice that has big promises, marketing strategies and glossy packaging. That’s what we, as people, do with it. Mindfulness is just being in the here and now, instead of getting caught up in the past or the future.
- Mindfulness aids. You can use a colouring book to do it but you don’t have to. There are a growing number of mindfulness resources, like these books, available, and they are not for everyone, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with trying to use new ways to help people meditate.
One group who are brilliant at explaining mindfulness to children using clever resources (and no colouring books) are the mindfulness in schools project. They use this clip from kung fu panda to explain what mindfulness is. Check it out if you want to see what Ugway is talking about.
If you aren’t bored or irritated by the idea and you want to give it a go then you could try the ubiquitous Headspace app or Mark Williams‘ down to earth introductory book: Finding Peace in a Frantic World.
Mindfulness might not be a panacea, and it might be boring sometimes, but I’d still really recommend it.