The Secret Life of Pronouns (16 page)

I had always been close to my mother. The divorce had nearly killed her and she was so happy with Jock. If she had known what Jock was doing to me, it would have broken her heart. I wanted to tell her so much. Do you know what it is like to be in a family like that? I’d get up in the morning and Jock and my mother would come down together. He would smile and be friendly, like nothing had happened. I hated his guts but could never tell anyone why. Every morning, every evening, every time I saw that bastard, I felt sick to my stomach.

Looking back on it all, the very worst thing was that I couldn’t talk to my mother anymore. I had to keep a wall between us. If I wasn’t careful, the wall might crumble and I’d tell her everything. The same was true of my friends. I’d go out with my girlfriends and we would all giggle about boys and dating. Their giggles were real, mine weren’t. If they had known what was happening in my bedroom they would have died.

I have heard or read variations on this theme hundreds of times over the last twenty-five years. In Laura’s case, the fondling was horrible but the collateral effects were worse. All of her close relationships with family and friends were damaged, her physical health deteriorated, and she was not able to talk about the experience to anyone until several years later.

Not talking about a major emotional upheaval violates our natural ways of behaving. As we have seen, emotional events provoke conversations. If we witness a terrible accident, discover that our favorite sports team has won an important game, learn that our closest friend has just left her husband, we feel the need to talk about it. This urge to talk about unexpected and upsetting events is fundamentally human. It is found in all cultures that have been studied. People talk about emotional experiences to learn more about them. Talking, it seems, is one of the primary ways that we are able to understand complex experiences. Conversely, when people are not able to talk about emotional events, they tend to think—even obsess or ruminate—about them.

TRANSLATING SECRETS INTO WORDS: EXPRESSIVE WRITING

As described in the first chapter, the links between secrets and illness motivated me to turn this idea on its head. If we encouraged people to talk or write about upsetting experiences, would their health improve? The answer turned out to be yes. In our first experiment, college students took part in a writing study where they were initially told that they would be writing about assigned topics for fifteen minutes a day for four consecutive days. After agreeing to participate, half of the people were told that they would write about deeply traumatic or stressful experiences for the four days. The other half of the students were instructed to write about superficial topics, such as describing objects or events.

Overall, people who were asked to write about emotional topics exhibited better physical health than those who wrote about superficial topics. Those in the experimental condition who wrote about traumas went to the doctor at half the rate of people in the control condition in the six months after the experiment. Later studies found similar patterns. Writing about traumatic experiences improved people’s physical and mental health.

Other researchers soon found that expressive writing affected immune function and other biological processes associated with health and illness. Josh Smyth from Syracuse University and his colleagues published a powerful study with arthritis and asthma patients showing that writing influenced the course of the diseases. Other projects with people dealing with AIDS, cancer, heart disease, depression, cystic fibrosis, and a range of other physical and mental health problems benefited from expressive writing. Now, almost twenty-five years later, over two hundred scientific articles have been published pointing to the power of writing.

The early writing studies were the impetus to develop a text analysis method that could help us figure out why writing worked. Awakening people’s emotions about earlier upheavals forces them to think differently about them. Exploring emotional topics demands that people look inward (as we see by their increasing use of first-person singular I-words). It helps them to organize their thoughts and construct more meaningful explanations or stories of their lives (as seen in the increasing use of cognitive words). By tracking the ways people write about their traumas, we are witnessing how they are changing in their thinking.

Writing is not a panacea and its effects are limited. For example, there is no evidence that writing about an emotional upheaval immediately after it occurs is helpful. Although writing for a relatively brief time over a few days has generally worked, it is unclear that long-term diary writing is necessarily helpful. In fact, writing too much about a particular problem may be a form of rumination. My recommendation is if you are interested in expressive writing, try it out for a few days. If it is beneficial, great. If not, try something else.

TYING IT TOGETHER: EMOTIONS AND THINKING STYLES AS TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

Remember Rex Ryan, the coach of the New York Jets football team who cried in front of his players after losing an important game? His emotional display reflected a change in the ways he was thinking about his team and its potential. Equally important, his tears were a powerful social signal to the players. You will recall that one of his players was quoted as being impressed by the coach’s commitment to the team and how his crying brought the team together. In a separate article, the same crying scenario signaled to a sportswriter that the New York Jets were falling apart.

Emotions are not just reactions to events. Different emotions can change the ways we think and influence how we respond to others. Emotions are intensely social in that they can draw us closer or push us farther apart. Emotions are also meaningful signals about other people’s motivations, goals, and intentions. The intimate connection between function words and emotional state naturally follows. Emotions make us think about the world differently and function words reflect this change in thinking.

The relationship between thoughts and feelings has been the subject of heated debate in philosophy and psychology for centuries. Both Aristotle and Plato argued that logic and emotions were fundamentally different processes. Descartes, writing in the seventeenth century, went farther by claiming that emotions undermined people’s abilities to think rationally. The early American psychologist William James also emphasized how emotions and passions frequently blinded people’s judgments. Sigmund Freud argued that fundamental emotional issues were the driving force of personality and behavior.

We are now beginning to think very differently about emotions and reason due, in part, to discoveries in the brain sciences. One of the most eloquent spokesmen for this new perspective is Antonio R. Damasio, a neuroscientist who has studied and written about the behaviors of people who suffer damage to the frontal lobe of the brain. The frontal lobe integrates information from primal emotional centers as well as regions associated with abstract reasoning and language. Many of the connections are so extensive that it makes no sense to make a sharp distinction between emotions and thoughts.

In his book
Descartes’ Error
, Damasio describes a procedure whereby people play a competitive card game. Healthy people with no brain damage are highly sensitive to rewards and punishments in making their decisions. Those with damage to their frontal lobes, however, seem to ignore the feelings they get from failure. He concludes that the emotions associated with losing help people to behave more rationally. Emotions inform thoughts.

That our feelings affect the ways we think about the world is the take-home message of this chapter. Our emotions influence our thinking, which is reflected in the ways we use function words. By extension, function words can give us a sense of how other people are thinking and feeling. They also serve as subtle public announcements alerting others to our own emotional states, our thinking patterns, and where we are paying attention.

CHAPTER 6

Lying Words

L
IE DETECTION EXPERTS have always known that lying is associated with specific biological changes. What is the biology of true confessions? Early in my expressive writing career, volunteers came to the lab and were asked to describe a powerful emotional event while they were hooked up to sensors that measured their blood pressure, heart rate, breathing, muscle tension, and skin conductance (sometimes called galvanic skin response, or GSR). They were then left alone during the time they talked about a traumatic experience into a tape recorder. One student stands out in my mind. An edited version of what he said:

On December 20, at 10:35 P.M., my father would have been driving north on State Highway 27. He was going approximately sixty-five miles per hour in a 1990 Buick LeSabre when a deer jumped in front of his car. He could not stop. His car swerved and lost control which caused it to roll over three times before it would have hit a tree. According to the coroner’s report, he would have died instantly. My mother would have received a phone call at approximately 12:15 A.M., who then reported the incident to me. Although fourteen years old at the time, the death was manageable for me and its effects have been minimal …

The student’s voice on the recording was matter-of-fact and eerily distant, much like his language. Biologically, however, he evidenced signs of tremendous conflict and stress. While talking about the event, his heart rate and blood pressure levels were elevated and his facial muscles were tense. Nevertheless, on a questionnaire he completed immediately after the study, he reported that talking about the traumatic event was not at all upsetting or stressful.

THE LANGUAGE OF SELF-DECEPTION

Rarely had I seen such a clear case of self-deception. The student was fully aware of the facts of the experience but he failed to acknowledge the emotional impact of it while describing it and, I suspect, in the months and years after his father’s death occurred. His case reminded me of other studies involving expressive writing where the occasional participant would write about terrible traumas but not mention negative feelings or emotions. In fact, people who were unable to acknowledge their emotional reactions to disturbing experiences rarely benefited from expressive writing. The people who are honest with themselves when exploring their past are the ones who find the greatest value in writing.

The costs of self-deception are somewhat controversial. Much of modern religion and psychotherapy is based on the premise “To thine own self be true.” There is a bit of irony in that Shakespeare’s famous quotation was spoken by the deceptive Polonius to his deceptive son Laertes, who eventually killed the deceptive Hamlet in a deceptive way. Nevertheless, there has been a long tradition of thinking that self-awareness is associated with greater mental and physical health. It makes sense. People who know themselves should be better able to gauge their strengths and limitations in making decisions.

The alternative view is that harboring positive illusions about ourselves makes for a happier life. If Maya Angelou had truly understood the infinitesimal odds of becoming a world-famous author and poet, would she have done it? If Phil Hellmuth knew that the odds of winning the World Series of Poker were less than one in ten thousand, would he have entered? (Hellmuth has won eleven times.) And if Uncle Jake really appreciated that the odds of winning the lottery were one in several million, would he continue buying lottery tickets? (Yes. And he has never won.) From the beginning of time, humans have been compelled to try things that are unlikely to pay off. They are motivated by a self-deceptive belief in their abilities. Statistically, virtually no one becomes a world-famous poet, champion poker player, or lottery winner. Nevertheless, a small group of people succeed in these domains and their successes often fuel our illusions.

Holding positive illusions about our abilities, relationships, and the world around us can be reassuring and stress reducing. One downside is if the overconfidence we have in our abilities leads to a gross distortion of reality that produces disastrous consequences. Examples, of course, abound. In his intriguing book
Deceit and Self-Deception
, the evolutionary biologist Robert Trivers details catastrophic results of self-deception, from airplane crashes to ill-advised wars to worldwide depressions.

Self-deception comes in many forms. As evidenced by the student who spoke about his father’s death, people can deny or fail to appreciate the emotional impact of an event. Another form is a brash overconfidence in one’s own abilities or situations. Yet another is a firmly held belief that is either demonstrably false or not proven. Examples include the man who is convinced of his ex-girlfriend’s love even after she has married someone else and has issued a restraining order against him. At the extreme, delusions by people suffering from serious mental disorders such as schizophrenia could also be an example of this form of self-deception.

Can self-deception be captured by language? To some degree, yes it can. Look back to the student’s story about the death of his father. Three language features jump out:

•  
Impersonal language.
Most people, when writing about a personal upheaval, take the experience, well,
personally
. They use phrases like “I saw” or “I felt.” Notice how the student never uses the word
I
.

•  
Lack of emotions.
Despite his writing about the death of his father when he was fourteen years old, the student uses virtually no emotion words, especially negative emotion words. His only emotion-related words, in fact, are implied—the experience was
manageable
and
minimal
.

•  
Concrete, stiff, and oddly distant language.
You can see he tends to use a high rate of concrete nouns (as measured by his use of articles—
a
,
an
, and
the
). He also uses a large number of verbs, especially words like
would
. Words such as
would
,
could
, and
should
introduce a type of distance between the actual event and the person’s perception of it.

SELF-DECEPTION IN LITERARY CHARACTERS

Self-deception of all forms is frequently portrayed in literature. Consider Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens’s
A Christmas Carol.
At the beginning of the story, Scrooge is an emotionally cold older man who is contemptuous of the Christmas season, family, and close human connections. We first see Scrooge in his business office on Christmas Eve excoriating his clerk Bob Cratchit about his plans to not work on Christmas. When Scrooge’s nephew drops by to invite Scrooge to Christmas dinner, Scrooge replies:

What else can I be … when I live in such a world of fools as this?… What’s Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books and having every item in them through a round dozen of months presented dead against you? If I could work my will … every idiot who goes about with “Merry Christmas” on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart.

Self-deception at work? Indeed. Dickens later lets us see a younger Scrooge whose childhood was difficult but who was close to his sister and had warm ties to his first mentor in the business and especially an old girlfriend whom he lost. We see that he was actually a decent human being who now hides his emotions in his greed. During the night of Christmas Eve, a series of ghosts appear at Scrooge’s bedside. Horror and havoc ensue. And by Christmas morning, the real Scrooge emerges. As soon as he awakens, he opens his window and exclaims:

I don’t know what to do!… I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a schoolboy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A merry Christmas to everybody! A happy New Year to all the world!

He eventually runs to his nephew’s house, where dinner with Bob Cratchit’s family is about to begin:

Now, I’ll tell you what, my friend … I am not going to stand this sort of thing any longer. And therefore … I am about to raise your salary … A merry Christmas, Bob … A merrier Christmas, Bob, my good fellow, than I have given you for many a year. I’ll raise your salary, and endeavour to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob. Make up the fires, and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another
i
, Bob Cratchit!

Dickens nicely captures the language of self-deception and self-awareness. Scrooge uses I-words half as often in his first speeches as in his last. He is also slightly less emotional at the beginning. You can discern more distancing in the first dialogue as well. In addition to greater use of discrepancy verbs such as
would
and
could
, he deflects attention away from himself by using much higher rates of words like
you
at the beginning. The only anomaly is Dickens’s overuse of concrete nouns and articles in the second speech. If only he had had LIWC when this was written in 1832, he would have known that Scrooge needed to say more
a
’s and
the
’s at the beginning of the book.

SELF-DECEPTION IN EVERYDAY STATEMENTS ON THE INTERNET

The language of the student whose father died and of Scrooge points to the type of self-deception associated with the denial or avoidance of emotion. How about the self-deception of overconfidence? There are a number of simple yet fun ways to answer the question. One is to think of common phrases that we all use when we are almost too certain of something versus when we are reasonably certain. For example, the phrase “There is absolutely no doubt that …” would only be used by someone with a tremendous amount of confidence—some might say overconfidence. But the phrase, “There is a possibility that …” would likely be embraced by speakers who are more tentative.

When people start sentences with these two differents phrases, what do they actually say? With search engine queries (using something like Google, Yahoo, or Bing), it is easy to answer the question. Here are some of the statements that resulted from each of the searches.

There is absolutely no doubt that:

superficial breathing ensures a superficial experience of ourselves.

high definition television is the way to go.

all who entered the Summer Holidays Picture Framing Competition produced pieces of an exceptional standard.

blackjack is a beatable game [and] you can have an edge over the casino.

God will forgive sex before marriage. God’s love for a person is not diminished because of the mistakes that person has made.

boxer shorts rule the planet for the ultimate comfort and style. Now crushing the hat industry will be HEAD BOXER HEADWEAR!

taking a few minutes to locate the rabbit breeder hobbyists near you is well worth the time.

anyone who does hear or read this amazing story will join in the fight to save our Country and our Nation’s Youth.

It is interesting to look at each of these statements for which there is absolutely positively no doubt. Maybe it’s just me but I harbor some serious doubts about a few of them. Did
everyone
who entered the framing competition really produce pieces of exceptional standards? And will boxer-short headwear really destroy the hat industry?

The language of these certainty statements is also striking. Phrases starting with “There is absolutely no doubt that” included few I-words, high rates of positive emotion words, and sentences that are simple and less specific. Now compare the certainty statements with those that start with a more humble, “there is a possibility that.”

There is a possibility that:

you could be pregnant. Arrive twenty minutes prior to your appointment time to complete registration.

I will be grounded if my parents find out about their car.

your former spouse may be entitled to financial information about your spouse from your second marriage in certain circumstances.

you may receive this survey from more than one source; if so, I apologize in advance for the duplication.

Who could disagree with any of these statements? The tone for most of the statements is measured and reasonable. You will also notice that the language is less formal and more personal. For example, phrases starting with “there is a possibility that” use more personal pronouns, especially I-words. The sentences are more complex and specific. A good way to evaluate specificity is to see if there are references to time, space, and motion. Finally, the tentative phrases are actually less emotional—especially in the use of positive emotions. It is almost as if the overconfident writers make up for truth with optimism.

SELF-DECEPTION IN LETTERS OF RECOMMENDATION

Most university faculty members write a large number of letters of recommendation every year. These letters are for undergraduates trying to get into a graduate or professional school and for graduate students trying to land jobs. In addition to writing letters, we also read letters of recommendation—for people applying for graduate school and jobs. Over the years, my colleagues and I have noticed that it is very difficult to distinguish among letters. They all seem to be quite positive. Is there a way to sort out the genuinely positive letters from the pro-forma positive letters?

I like to think of myself as an honest, straightforward person. When I sit down to write a letter of recommendation, it is important that what I say is truthful but also portrays the student in a positive yet fair light. One thing I’ve noticed is that as I start writing a letter I gradually start to see more and more positive things about the student. By the time I have finished, I come away with the belief that
there is absolutely no doubt that
the student I’m writing about is perfect. Ouch. That sounds a little like self-deception. In talking with colleagues, many report the same feelings.