Wired for Love (6 page)

Recently, much has been written in popular psychology about the differences between female and male brains. For example, thanks to research by Bente Pakkenberg and Hans Jurgen Gundersen (1997), we know males have more brain cells at birth than do females. However, the neuroscientist Paul MacLean (1996) found the female brain tends to have more symmetry and connectivity than does the male brain. From an evolutionary standpoint, the male brain is heavily wired for reaction to threat. In
Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers
, Robert Sapolsky (2004) reported that males are more likely to quickly spring into action when threatened, and to stay alert longer, than are females. Females, on the other hand, tend to be wired to pull in others to huddle for safety. Despite minor differences between the brains and nervous systems of men and women, as humans we all share the common drives of survival and of relationship. The fundamental mechanics of our brains are the same.

Primitives and Ambassadors

The parts of the human brain that specialize in survival have been around for a long time—actually, since the dawn of our species. I like to call these warring parts our “primitives.” You can think of your primitives as your beasts within. The primitives operate without your permission. They are first in the chain of command with respect to survival reflexes, and function to trump all your other needs and wants. They are agents of war (fighting and running away) and defeat (surrendering and playing dead).

Fortunately for us, we also have a more evolved, social part of our brain. In contrast to our warring brain, this functions as our loving brain. We can legitimately say it has been wired for love. I like to think of this part of the brain as the “ambassadors.” Unlike the primitives, the ambassadors interact with other brains in a refined, civilized manner. You can think of your ambassadors as your diplomats within. In reality, some of our primitives function as ambassadors at times, and some of our ambassadors have primitive functions, as well. But for our purposes in understanding couple behavior, it is useful to oversimplify a bit and view them as opposing camps. Let’s look more closely.

The Primitives

Our primitives are naturally geared to wage war. Whether it’s a little battle or a big battle, they’re ready to defend us, whatever it takes. They allow us to sense, feel, and react, and tend to be the first receivers of information, both inside and outside the body. This makes them fast at identifying dangers and threats, and expedient when dealing with those dangers and threats. In fact, our primitives have all the advantages millions of years of evolution can afford, such as integration, efficiency, and speed. They were the first to arrive on the scene and will likely be the last ones standing at the end (death).

So, how exactly do the primitives operate (table 2.1)? And more importantly, how can you identify them in action in your relationship?

Table 2.1 Your Primitives in Action

In essence, the primitives operate according to a chain of command, similar to that used by the military. When threat or danger is perceived, a sequence of events unfolds that leads either to war or to the primitives going off alert. All this takes place within our brains and bodies, often very quickly, at a level mostly beyond our awareness. Yet if we learn to look carefully, we can detect the evidence. And once we’ve done that, we can think about how we might influence the process. To make the sequence easier to detect, I’ve defined three critical stages: Red alert! Ready the troops! All-out war.

STAGE 1: RED ALERT!

The first line of defense among the primitives is to perceive danger and sound the alarm, loud and clear: “Watch out! Danger is present!” This is carried out by one of our most primitive structures, the
amygdalae
, almond-shaped structures in the brain. The amygdalae continually sweep the environment for signs of danger, and do so in a down-and-dirty fashion. In other words, they indiscriminately grab whatever information they find. They don’t have much of a strategy, nor do they stop to analyze whether the threat is real or imminent. They just scream red alert, and assume one of the ambassadors will conduct a more careful assessment and step in to correct any errors or erroneous assumptions made by the primitives in the heat of the moment. Intelligence should always be analyzed before going to war, right? However, analysis takes time, and time is a problem when danger is afoot.

The amygdalae largely run the show between a couple when they feel threatened by one another’s facial expressions, vocal inflection, sharp movements, or harmful words. Instead of two whole brains at war, it is a case of dueling amygdalae—sort of like Wild West gunfighters honing in on that twitch before reaching for their pistols. Like Darius and Shenice, partners are on constant lookout for threatening signs and signals. Specifically, the right-side amygdala picks up on dangerous facial expressions, voices, sounds, movements, and postures. The left-side amygdala picks up on dangerous words and phrases.

Consider Franklin and Leia. After dating for more than a year, Leia is frustrated by Franklin’s hesitancy to ask for her hand in marriage. She is all but ready to move on and date others. While driving to dinner one evening a week after Valentine’s Day, they get into a fight.

After a long period of listening to music, Leia, on the passenger side, suddenly shuts off the stereo. “Can we talk?” she asks, looking ahead.

Franklin’s body stiffens as he utters, “Sure.” His amygdalae have picked up the tone in her voice and the events that just occurred: the silence, the turning off of music, the question “Can we talk?” His amygdalae have grabbed onto all this in a manner not available to Franklin’s full awareness, and his body prepares for something vaguely warlike.

Moments before, Leia had been contentedly listening to a song with the words “Goin’ to the chapel….” The image captured her amygdalae, and she suddenly felt disturbed for no apparent reason. Her attention drifted to the previous week, when she had expected a Valentine’s Day proposal. Almost before she knew what was happening, the question escaped her lips. She froze with fear, anticipating Franklin’s reaction to her bringing up the dreaded subject…again. Now, even though she avoids looking at him, her amygdalae have registered the slightest hint of exhalation in the pause before his response, “Sure.” Her body remembers, recognizes, and anticipates war. Although she may know it would be reasonable to check for errors in her perception, that isn’t foremost in her attention.

STAGE 2: READY THE TROOPS!

When the amygdalae have sounded an alarm, the next primitive in the chain of command jumps to attention: the
hypothalamus
. The hypothalamus is the main primitive responsible for getting our minds and bodies ready for action; it directs the
pituitary and adrenal glands
to release chemicals necessary for action. These glands are messengers and foot soldiers under the direct command of the hypothalamus.

Together, these primitives form the bulk of our stress response system, releasing substances—such as the acute-stress response hormones
adrenaline
and
cortisol
—into our bloodstream. The fast-acting adrenaline amps us up and gets us ready to fight or flee, while the slower-acting cortisol helps us adapt to stress by reducing inflammation and damage in our body. The continual balancing act between these chemicals feeds messages back to the hypothalamus: should we continue to fight, or is it time to withdraw the troops?

As soon as the alarm for war has been sounded, the hypothalamus gives us three options: we can fight, flee, or momentarily freeze while we decide whether to fight or flee. One way or the other, the call is made: “Ready the troops!” Just as the amygdalae sent out an alarm without questioning the accuracy of information, the hypothalamus responds to the amygdalae without questions. Again, the assumption is made that the ambassadors will come along later and clean up, as needed.

In our example of Franklin and Leia, their hypothalami gave marching orders almost simultaneously with the sounding of the first threat alarm. We can see the evidence just by looking at the couple: Franklin’s muscles stiffened, preparing for a fight. Leia’s body froze in fear, unsure whether she could stomach another fight (although if their past battles are any indication, she’s unlikely to flee). Both their lips began to smack, activating saliva and digestive juices. Their pupils dilated, and their faces reddened with increasing blood flow. Energy and alertness increased in both partners as each readied for war.

STAGE 3: ALL-OUT WAR!

At this stage, the primitives have the run of the place. The ambassador who was supposed to be busy in the background checking for errors has shut down—or worse, become overwhelmed by the urgency of the primitives. Often the relatively slow ambassadors are beaten to the scene by the fast-moving, chaos-producing primitives. So, for the couple, it’s all-out war, and there will be no clarity until the fog has cleared. Then they’ll have a chance to gather the dead and count their losses.

Couples at war have certain tell-tale behavioral signs. Some partners get very excited, while others become slow, sleepy, or even collapse. Whichever posture they take, partners at war say and do things that are decidedly unfriendly. Each time they fight, they tend to recycle the same complaints, the same examples, the same theories, and the same solutions. Of course, their battles can expand, as well—to include other people (“Even so-and-so says you’re self-centered”); other moments in history (“You did the same thing when we first went out”); and other topics (“When you do that, it drives me nuts, too”). Couples often spend inordinate amounts of time debating facts and struggling to reconstruct and sequence stressful relationship events, leaving them no time or resources to sort out the real reason for their conflict. In chapter 9, we will look at how you can escape from old patterns of fighting.

For now, let’s return to where we left Franklin and Leia, and see what all-out war looks like for them.

Leia takes a deep breath and launches into the dreaded topic: “Remember Valentine’s Day, when you got upset with me about bringing up marriage?”

“What?” says Franklin sharply. “You’re mixing that up with the scene at my mom’s, days before. I said I was tired of everyone pressuring me about a proposal.”

“No, I’m talking about Valentine’s,” Leia counters. “I asked you to give me some idea if you’re ever going to…”

“Here we go again,” Franklin groans. “Why do you always distort everything? I said I love you and want to marry you. I said I’ll ask you. And I
will…
Oh, just forget it!”

“Don’t tell me to forget it!” shouts Leia. “You didn’t say anything of the kind. You just told me to shut up. And I’m not distorting anything! You ignored me that whole night.”

“That’s not true!” screams Franklin as he swerves to avoid a car stopped ahead.

“Watch out!” yells Leia, bracing herself against the dashboard. “You’re going to kill us!”

“Don’t say I was ignoring you,” says Franklin, trying to appear calm. “You always do this! You can’t say I ignored you and also say you loved how affectionate I was.”

“When did I say that?” Leia shoots back.

“You said it that night.”

“No, I didn’t. You’re always accusing me of doing something I didn’t do.”

“I can’t believe this!” Franklin grips the steering wheel so tightly his hands shake.

Leia sits in silence, jaw set, arms folded. Then she says icily, “Just take me home.”

Franklin violently spins the car around. “Ya’ got it!” he hisses. “Just what ya’ wanted.”

Not every couple at war is as dramatic as Franklin and Leia. War isn’t necessarily a matter of volume, harsh words, and violent movements. Partners at war can engage or disengage, loudly or quietly, rudely or politely. What determines war is the partners’ experience of threat and the degree to which their primitives are in control.

THE AFTERMATH

Fighting can be very stressful for couples, no matter how long or short their relationship may be. Often the primitives remain in charge of one or both partners for a while, after the obvious battle is over.

The day after their argument, Leia wants to talk to Franklin, to try to clear the air. Her ambassadors are ready to assert themselves. However, Franklin doesn’t phone or stop by after work. She has learned that whenever they fight, he withdraws for several days. He goes home to his apartment after work and lounges around with the lights down low and his phone turned off, watching television until the wee hours. Leia doesn’t know how to reach out to him, and she feels abandoned. After a few days, he will pop out of his depression and phone her again.

The primitive dictating Franklin’s response is the so-called
dumb vagus. In scientific parlance, it is known as the dorsal motor vagal complex
, but scientists sometimes refer to it as the dumb vagus because it isn’t discerning or subtle in its response to threat. If we get cut, stabbed, or otherwise physically wounded, the dumb vagus protects us by lowering our heart rate and blood pressure and signaling the hypothalamus to dump pain relievers (beta endorphins, our natural opiates) into our bloodstream. When you have blood drawn, do you become queasy or light-headed? If so, that’s your dumb vagus protecting you from bleeding out. Of course, you aren’t in any danger, but that overreaction is why the dumb vagus is called dumb. It also comes in handy if we are about to be eaten by a lion and can’t fight or run away.

In addition to physical injury, the dumb vagus can be triggered by emotional injury and threat. It likewise responds by shutting down. Blood leaves our face, our muscles lose their tone, our ears ring, and our stomach hurts. We slump, drop, collapse, and sometimes even faint. Gone is our sense of humor, our perspective, and our life energy. We descend into a valley of darkness, where it seems no one, not even we ourselves, can hurt us. This is what happens to Franklin following a fight with Leia. High on his body’s natural opiates, his depressed body and brain go into an energy-conserved state, and stay there until his ambassadors finally pull him out.