On the importance of meaning and purpose in my life…

Saturday afternoon I went through a short and yet intense moment of experiencing the sense of loss over a past relationship, contemplating what exactly it was this relationship represents, and why it seemingly meant and still means so much to me. An intriguing possibility occurred to me, one I hadn’t really thought of before as clearly, but that at least at the moment seems to be fairly plausible: When I initially developed feelings for this person, I distinctly remember having a fresh sense of “this is what I want and need”, something that has been diminishing for quite a while. However, my subsequent decisions and the outcomes I observed didn’t make sense to me. So, what I have been and partly still am attracted to and obsessed about may be the idea that this relationship could give my life meaning and purpose, together with the enhanced experiences of agency and self-efficacy. And I want to flesh out each term a bit more.

My experience of agency, which, briefly put, is perceiving that actions I’m taking are self-determined, allowing me to actually take charge of my life. A typical example from psychology is that by making a decision I can bring about a specific outcome, and I would argue that spending time with someone I feel close and attracted to, interacting with that person, and observing the feedback I’m getting clearly constitutes a situation with a heightened sense of agency.

Closely related but not identical is the concept of self-efficacy. While agency can be experienced in good and bad outcomes alike–as long as it has been my actions that bring the outcome about–self-efficacy is specifically linked to positive outcomes that are congruent with my goals. As such, being with someone and observing that person’s increased sense of well-being as a direct consequence of my actions creates a higher sense of self-efficacy.

The experience of meaning or meaningful outcomes–and I think it is important to distinguish meaning from the other concepts–is something I can more or less attribute to a situation. To some degree, it is both guided by and subsequently guides future goals I have in life. As an example, even an initially negative experience I make, such as the person I feel for not returning those feelings, can be seen as meaningful if I end up with a thought that, one way or another, this experience helped me in reaching one of my goals. As such, it is highly independent from agency, as even outcomes that are seemingly caused by others or maybe even random events can be perceived as meaningful.

Semantically overlapping with the concept of meaning, I would yet separately name my sense of purpose. I would argue this sense is an expression of how I translate my appreciation of life as a whole into what I intend to do for seeking meaningful experiences. In short, it is the one highest-level goal I have in life. Obviously I can’t look into the future, but I guess that if I could, a very good reason would probably be that I’d want to verify that I will reach this high-level goal. In that sense it is like the hypothesis and synthesis of future meaning, and whenever I manage to move closer toward this goal I’m experiencing an increased sense of meaning. And for me, being with someone in an intimate way is clearly part of the purpose and meaningful.

Finally, I would add the experience of things making sense. And I think it is important to also distinguish this from both meaning and purpose. In a situation where I made a mistake and incur some form of punishment or cost, the painful part of the experience at least makes sense–which is different from a situation where I experience pain without understanding why it happened. I would say that my implicit belief in cause and effect has very little room for randomness, and I often have a fairly strong need to understand what exactly caused the things happening to me, particularly the painful ones, which is why in a situation where outcomes do not make sense they at least must be meaningful to be bearable.

More generally speaking and related to what I see as the preliminary thoughts on a neuro-computational model for human experience as a whole, I would argue that once the more basic needs we experience as human beings are satisfied–those that guarantee our physical well-being and survival–we are left with the challenge to look after those still requiring satisfaction, which I speculate could be one of the reasons why people in positions of great power might at some point become incredibly dissatisfied with part of their experience.

Coming back to my own situation in life: working in the field of psychology, albeit not as an academic in the strictest sense, has always been a continuous source of meaning. The way in which I came to the job, however, did not entail the experience of agency and purpose, at least I would argue that how I ended up working in this field came about more as a coincidence. And I somehow sense that a slow but noticeable decline in perceived meaning may very well have contributed to the intensity with which I have attached myself to the idea of finding meaning elsewhere, say in this relationship turned to obsession.

Consequently, I am now wondering to what extent my sense of loss is, to a considerable degree at least, the expression of the needs for meaning and purpose, and that if I were to find those two by other means, especially if I were to experience them with agency and self-efficacy, the sense of loss would be highly diminished. Naturally, it seems tempting to simply go for another relationship–that would afford me with a renewed sense of “that’s what I want and need.” However, I have to ask myself how stable this experience would really be, given that I have witnessed how easy it can also break apart…

The relationship between fear and violence

Over the past week or so, on a few separate occasions, I was reminded of how fear can make people accept the infringement on personal liberties, question the rights of others to exist, and even participate in horrible acts of violence towards others:

  • with me being German but (luckily) Germany not having been victorious at the end of World War II, I quite often think of how Nazi propaganda was used to instigate fear in the population against both political enemies of the NSDAP and an ethnic group, eventually leading to people either accepting or ignoring the genocide of the Jews
  • the recently (U.S.-) released movie “The Act of Killing” shows, from the perspective of a group of men who have killed hundreds, how in the mid-1960s the Indonesian population had to endure one of the worst mass-killings, when fears over a communist  take-over of the country were used to justify cruel and atrocious acts
  • even though the Civil Rights Movement changed America forever, to this day people of color, particularly men, are often faced with implicit prejudice about their intention, whether or not they pose a threat, making them the target of even non-police suspicion, as happened when George Zimmerman killed Trayvon Martin
  • since the 9/11 attacks, America has been struggling with how people of Muslim background, whether or not they are religious or fanatic, are subject to extreme scrutiny and Muslims in America are probably suffering from the continued classification as “potential terrorists”
  • the ongoing conflict between Israel and Palestine seems to be based on fears on each side that the respective other side’s main motivation is to inflict harm and pain on the own population, leading to ever renewed outbreaks of violent acts, such as bombings and retaliative airstrikes
  • recent Russian legislation now threatens people who either identify as gay or sympathize with the struggle that gay-identifying persons are facing, with the justification being that homosexuality threatens the Russian society, and the most recent events of a gay man being killed and a Dutch man being detained may just be the beginning of a much larger “campaign” that could result in a lot of violence

And the list could easily be extended… On the outside, the people involved may have strong rational sounding opinions about why the conflict, suppression, or violence continues. Often, the reasons entail a perceived but at least at face value plausible threat to society or individual well-being, and the measures taken are made out to be necessary to restore or uphold peace and justice.

However, in all of these cases, I would argue that the base issue is that one group of a population either already holds the belief or is being made to believe that another group is to be feared because of their intention to cause harm. And these fears then bring about condoning or even participating in the infringement of rights and, in part, even violence against anyone suspected to be part of the feared group.

In some of these instances, there may even be factual reasons to be vigilant. The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 actually happened, and it is normal for people suffering such a painful loss to react with fear of subsequent acts of violence. However, what is hardly ever considered is that the people on the “other side” of the conflict who are cheering at the results of these violent acts may be ultimately motivated by the same reason: fear. But is fear truly helpful when it comes to improving a conflict?

One of the results of Americans being afraid for their lives in everyday situations, I believe, can be seen by the fact that the USA is leading the statistic for number of guns per residents. Unfortunately, it seems that being afraid for your life and owning a gun doesn’t make life safer. On the contrary, overall I would argue that more or less constantly fearing for your life is probably an enormous stressor itself. And at the very least the number of people owning a gun seems to be correlated with the number of deaths by firearms.

And somehow I have the strong hunch that the level on which people “prepare for an attack”, either by individuals buying guns or the legislature passing new laws against a group of people, or entire countries procuring weapons suitable for fighting wars between nations, is relatively unimportant. As long as actions taken by individuals as well as policy makers are based on fear, I believe that violence is no longer the means of last resort but rather the next logical step…

Contrary to this approach of using force and violence, my personal vision would be to educate the public about a few things related to fear and violence, and that while these two may seem like two links in an inevitable chain of events, I believe that there are certainly methods to reduce the impact of fear–compassion can be thought of as a counter-force for violence and previous research suggests that compassion can be taught.

Eventually, I think that if humanity cannot overcome the impulse to translate being afraid of other humans into violence against the group to which those we’re afraid of belong, sooner or later someone will push the big red button and blow us all to pieces. It’s not so much if but rather when, and so I think it’s probably worth investigating how a reduction of fear can be achieved in favor of trying to find “smart solutions”, that do not overlook the actual dangers present, but do not allow the fear of these dangers to dictate decision making.

The relationship between needs, values, emotions and well-being

To figure out why emotions can be unhelpful at times, I’m currently in the process of building my own model to understand the links between needs, values, emotions, subsequent decision making, and well-being, hoping that understanding these links may help improve my own well-being as well as my interpersonal relationships.

Very briefly put together, my basic assumptions are that I, like everybody else, have a set of idiosyncratic needs (N), which I would classify into three domains–biological, psychological, and cultural or social. Those needs are represented by values (V), and that experiencing these values (including thinking back to or imagining future experiences) or the environment’s response to or challenge of them is one of the main contributors to the experience of emotion (E). Subsequently and mostly unconsciously emotions lead to a change in the trajectory of a person’s interaction with the environment, in short immediately or long-term altered behavior (B), and I would call this effect of emotion motivation (M) towards a goal (G) which is linked to the value. Given the motivational component, a person is then either propelled to unconsciously act according to genetically preprogrammed or habitually learned responses (R), or–if the emotion and motivation become conscious via awareness (A) and particularly if they are represented by language (L)–is able to select and apply a more cognitively appraised, goal-oriented strategy (S) to improve the chance of fulfilling the underlying need. Below, I will give a few more details about some of the highlighted terms, to define them more clearly and set them apart.

In my mind, needs are parameters and conditions that have to be satisfied to maintain proper function of the body, the mind, and social relations. If the needs are satisfied appropriately and in balance with the needs of our environment, including the needs of other people, this will enhance chances of individual as well as species survival and well-being. Importantly, not all needs are equally urgent to be satisfied, and both the passage of time itself as well as interacting with our environment changes the amount to which each need requires satisfying for continued well-being.

To allow behavior to be “in tune” with our needs–that is to say for our brains to figure out what needs we actually have, how urgent each of them is, and what we have to do to satisfy them–those parameters and conditions are represented by values. Unfortunately, these representations are not necessarily always the most helpful ones, but can be biased and distorted or even woefully incorrect. We may for instance greatly value something that actually doesn’t fulfill any need, or we may have no representational value for a critical need, both leading to a potential for long-term dissatisfaction. For example, people may have a high value for recreational drugs and (over-) use them even though the body reacts negatively to their consumption; on the other hand, people may have little value for (or even aversion towards) socializing and human interaction, but if they have this as a psychological need, they will also experience lower well-being. In this context and as far as I understand, I think it’s important to note that economic and neuroeconomic models only represent values, which together build the utility function (U). In other words, economic decision making is not necessarily geared towards need satisfaction, which I would call contentment, but towards increased utility, something I think of more as happiness.

While the value system we have is fairly flexible, I think it’s still worth pointing out values can be either genetically pre-programmed (such as our liking/wanting of sugary foods), learned (such as liking/wanting of receiving money), or inferred, concluded or simply “copied” from people we trust (such as liking/wanting the concept of sexual chastity). Values can be either positive, i.e. sought, desired, and preferentially chosen, or negative, i.e. avoided.

Given that psychological and social needs can be satisfied with a much larger and diverse set of stimuli and contexts, there are probably more possible values than needs. E.g. the need for social approval can be satisfied via others’ liking as well as someone’s submission, respect, etc. And some people seem to prefer being loved, others may prefer being feared or revered. Taken together, one of the most important predictors of well-being would be an accurate, helpful, and environmentally balanced value representation of needs.

At least for some needs we have a direct emotional response in case a lack in its satisfaction is registered, either consciously and/or non-consciously. And certain responses seem to be typically associated with emotional states that are triggered to generate motivation directly towards fulfilling the need or countering a threat for satisfying the need in the future. For some biological needs, emotional responses are fairly clear, such as feeling tired when we need sleep, thirsty when we need water, or hungry when we need nutrition. And a severe lack may result in higher aggression potentials, given the urgency and severity of the condition.

For psychological and social needs and their values, it is in fact much more complicated to understand typical emotional responses, given that the way in which they are elicited and expressed seems to depend on (among other factors) whether

  • a positive value is experienced (e.g. liking and pleasure)
  • a positive value could be experienced in the future (e.g. wanting/craving)
  • a negative value is experienced
  • a negative value could be experienced in the future
  • a (positive) value is threatened by the environment
  • a (positive) value is threatened by an intentional agent (other person)
  • actions of the person him- or herself make it more or less likely to experience a value
  • actions of someone else make it more or less likely to experience a value
  • whether these actions were intentional, out of neglect, or out of ignorance

Obviously, this is merely the beginning of creating a model. Once I get a little further along with it, I would like to be able to make more accurate predictions about which emotions are most likely to be elicited in specific contexts.

For my own long-term well-being it seems critical that I learn a few key things:

  • becoming aware of the emotions that I have
  • correctly identifying the value or values which led to these (complex) emotions
  • to be able do so, having the language necessary to identify the emotions
  • attempting to back-track from the values to the underlying needs they represent
  • if no need seems to exist, the value may have to be altered to improve well-being

And in situations of experience “lack or loss” of well-being (discontentment) without strong emotional responses, it may be necessary to try to identify the need or needs that are not being met and attempting to generate or set up values that represent those needs.

One of the problems I have with organized religion…

Let me jump right in, but let me do so by using a short, fictitious story to highlight what I see as a big “issue” of religion:

A man believes he is communicating with God, and God tells him to take a piece of chalk and draw a circular line in the middle of the market place in town. This circle, according to God, is sacred and no-one shall enter it. So, the next day the man goes into town, walks to the center of the market place, and draws the circle as God told him to. Then he sits next to it all day, and he tells everybody who comes by and inquires about the circle that God told him to draw it and make sure no-one enters it. Initially, most of the people don’t think too much about it, but a few are inspired and make sure not to step into the circle, and soon after the man isn’t sitting alone next to the circle, but there is a small group of people sitting there.

Once the group gets a little larger, they become more and more vocal about telling people not to step into the circle, and because people don’t really have a reason to do so, everybody in town begins to follow the rule. Then, one night, the man once again hears God speak to him, and God says that if someone does enter the circle, that person shall be punished by being put to death. And the next day the man tells his followers and they then become convinced that they are righteous in preventing people from stepping into the circle.

However, one day a stranger who has never visited the town comes to the market place and, when he gets to the circle, he doesn’t understand what the line is for. Obviously there is nothing in the circle, there is no good reason not to step into it. He also doesn’t really believe that the good people of the town would actually mind if he steps into it, and because he actually thinks that being in the circle would allow him to breathe a little more freely he steps inside the circle. Then the people of the town become so outraged that they start shouting and yelling, and before anybody can really take a moment to think, someone has picked up a stone and has thrown it at the man in the circle. Once the violence has started, people all around the circle do the same, and it feels good to punish the man, because he has broken the rule.

My questions now are: was it just for the people to kill the man? And if not who is responsible for the man’s death?

Personally, I don’t think the death of the man can be justified. Even if I were to believe God exists and that God has talked to the man who drew the circle, I would then have to say that maybe the man misunderstood God, or that for some other reason God may have wanted to change the rule and didn’t get the chance to talk to the man. In short, I believe that the man should not have been killed.

From that premise, I then wonder who is (mainly) responsible for his death. From a point of a believer in God, you could then simply say the man should have listened, but I also don’t think that this is an adequate point of view, for the same reason as to why I think the death cannot be justified. Given the somewhat imperfect means of how God “chose” to communicate his “wishes”, I think it is at least fair to assume that the error is more likely to be on the human side–even though it would of course be much easier to “blame” the man who died or, alternatively, God for giving out such a rule to begin with.

From the point of an agnostic it becomes much worse. Given that the rule, “draw a circle and no-one shall enter it,” is, indeed, entirely arbitrary–and it also doesn’t come with any good explanation for why following the rule is actually in the interest of the people–it seems that the main portion of the responsibility lies not even with the man who drew the circle but with the people who simply accepted the rule without thought.

And funny enough, I think that is exactly the point that I believe the person or persons that are now usually identified as Jesus of Nazareth tried to make, for which he (or they) was eventually put to death: don’t simply and blindly follow arbitrary rules that some religion sets, but think and feel and then decide from the wisdom of a kind heart that a rule that does not foster well-being and requires that people who not follow it should be punished is unlikely to be a rule that God would want us to follow–presuming that God exists that is.

So, in short, one of the problems I have with organized religion is that it comes with lots and lots of rules, that for many of these rules it only gives “the word of God” as heard by a few select people as “backup”, with little explanation for their benefit, particularly given the continually changing environment we live in. And the rules are not even considered guidelines but absolute.

Sometimes, a white line, such as that at the edge of a road, can be a life-saver. And everybody, even a non-religious person, would likely agree to its value and use. But if a rule, a white line, has lost its value, its meaning–or never had a value or meaning other than for those who made it, because it gives them power over the ruled–then I think it ought to be challenged by someone. And in that sense I do believe that Jesus can be someone to inspire me, just not necessarily in the direction religion points to…

S’il te plaît… apprivoise-moi! — Relationships and responsibility

[Disclaimer: this post has been (heavily) edited on July 21, 2013]

In this post I want to reflect upon my current understanding of meaningful relationships. Before jumping into the topic however, I want to explain a bit about the first half of this post’s title… It comes from one of my (if not my most) favorite books: Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

For those of you who do not know the book, it is the story of a man in a desperate and life-threatening situation–having crash-landed his own, small airplane in the desert, and not having much water to survive. He meets “the little prince”, who through conversations reveals what I would call extremely valuable truths about life: how people treat their existence, and how if they treated it differently their experience could potentially be much richer and fulfilling. The language is poetic as well as naïve, in the sense that it seems to be written for children; but for me, with every reading as an adult, I still “learn” from it. Many times, I was able to rephrase my own life in the terms the book provides and “see with my heart” to what extent I was able or not to already incorporate the notions I consider relevant and worthwhile.

To illustrate and give one of the most profound ways in which I experience relationships, I want to quote from the book–in the original French with a few comments of mine. After his arrival on Earth, but before meeting the pilot and narrator of the book, the little prince with his wheat-colored hair also meets a fox and they share a conversation. This is a part of it:

“S’il te plaît… apprivoise-moi!” dit-il.

“Je veux bien,” répondit le petit prince, “mais je n’ai pas beaucoup de temps. J’ai des amis à découvrir et beaucoup de choses à connaitre.”

“On ne connaît que les choses que l’on apprivoise,” dit le renard. “Les hommes n’ont plus le temps de rien connaître. Ils achètent des choses toutes faites chez les marchands. Mais comme il n’existe point de marchands d’amis, les hommes n’ont plus d’amis. Si tu veux un ami, apprivoise-moi!”

So, in this first part of the conversation the fox tries to explain that it is worth “taming” someone, that is to say getting close to as a friend; in fact it is the only way to make a friend, by spending time with and on someone. It is followed by an explanation on what exactly entails taming: the slow and deliberate process of establishing mutual benevolence, respect, trust, limits, rituals, and allowing natural and intuitive reliance on these relationship foundations to form over time. The little prince engages in this process, and by the end of it, evidenced by the following (shortened) dialog, has successfully tamed the fox:

(…) Et quand l’heure du départ fut proche:

“Ah!” dit le renard… “Je pleurerai.”

“C’est ta faute,” dit le petit prince, “je ne te souhaitais point de mal, mais tu as voulu que je t’apprivoise…”

“Bien sûr,” dit le renard.

“Mais tu vas pleurer!” dit le petit prince.

“Bien sûr,” dit le renard.

“Alors tu n’y gagnes rien!”

“J’y gagne,” dit le renard, “à cause de la couleur du blé.” (…) “Va revoir les roses. Tu comprendras que la tienne est unique au monde. Tu reviendras me dire adieu, et je te ferai cadeau d’un secret.”

(…) Et il revint vers le renard:

“Adieu,” dit-il…

“Adieu,” dit le renard. “Voici mon secret. Il est très simple: on ne voit bien qu’avec le coeur. L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.” (…) “C’est le temps que tu a perdu pour ta rose qui fait ta rose si importante.” (…) “Les hommes ont oublié cette vérité,” dit le renard. “Mais tu ne dois pas l’oublier. Tu deviens responsable pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé. Tu es responsable de ta rose…”

In other words, once someone has been tamed as a friend, he or she will always remain special and, as the fox says, we remain responsible for keeping it that way. At the very end of the book, the author reflects on how meeting the little prince will always be a source of joy and meaning for his own life. And with that in mind, I am turning to some of my experiences…

About five years ago, only a few months after arriving in New York–and the United States for that matter–I got to know my first ever boyfriend. While it may not have been love at first sight, we developed a great sense of comfort, and despite our differences I think it is fair to say that we tamed one another: we allowed ourselves to become vulnerable, to rely on those elements of friendship and be hurt by their absence. Over time, we both experienced hurt and pain, and looking back I would say the biggest factor in the prolonged pain was a lack of determination and courage to communicate some of the aspects that were lacking or remained unsatisfactory. At some point I felt this relationship to be no longer adequately taking care of some of my needs. At first this was unconscious, and only too late it became fully visible to me.

Unfortunately, this lack of courage didn’t allow me to communicate this sense of dissatisfaction better with my boyfriend of then four years. I very unceremoniously and not at all truth-fully broke up with him. However, both due to the fact that we had tamed one another as well as my not being able to fully appreciate and boldly accept some of my needs–in part driven by very early childhood experiences, I believe–I decided to get back together to my ex-boyfriend, only to fail again…

From the past few months, I have learned it is essential for me that, once someone opens up to me and makes him or herself vulnerable, I do actually want to accept at least part of the responsibility for how he or she becomes fragile and that I want to take care of their needs and feelings, at least to the point that is part of the promise made during the taming. And now I simply have to accept that I cannot take anything back that I did, but want to look into the future and remain open in case my caring is appreciated and wanted. So, as one important life lesson learned: after breaking up with someone, I don’t want to cut the other person off.

The relationship between friendship and altruism as well as empathy

Next week Saturday, June 8, the Helix Center will host a public Roundtable on the topic of Altruism and Empathy. Since I decided to go, I’ve been thinking about both of these concepts and how they relate to friendship and other relationships humans engage in. And as part of a pet project of my own, a neurocomputational model that I’m working on, I would argue that while many people seem to believe that altruism is related to or even based on empathy, I would argue not only that altruism itself is actually different from and unrelated to empathy, but that they are two very different types of concepts:

For me, empathy is the cognitive capability to correctly recognize emotional and motivational states in others. That is to say, someone who is high in empathy is able to correctly assess how someone else is feeling and what motivational components, such as desires, fears, goals, or plans, are in that other person’s mind. As said in the teaser to the roundtable, this capability is thought of to develop more or less naturally during childhood, but the degree to which people are capable of employing this cognitive capacity varies.

On the other hand, altruism for me is what I would call a set of values, desires, wishes, and subsequent goals that allow people to make choices which incorporate other people’s needs and wishes into their decisions to a greater extent. In other words, someone high in altruism will care about other people’s needs more strongly.

Why do I believe these concepts to be unrelated? First, from a theoretical point of view, empathy seems to be an ability or function rather than a value or parameter. I consider the difference roughly that of the ability of driving a car–without accidents, that is to say knowing how to drive safely–and liking old-timers. Both are certainly related to a common theme, cars, but one of them is a capability, the other one is more of a passion or personal value. And equally as I think that some people are damn good drivers but don’t care about old-timers, I would suggest there are people who care about old-timers but haven’t driven a car once.

The same is true I think for empathy and altruism: both are related to social interactions. However, I believe there are people who are high in empathy and low in altruism, and I believe there are people who are low in empathy but high in altruism. The former group I would say might be extremely well suited to be salesmen, spokespeople for corporations, politicians, debaters, attorneys, in short representatives of interests that are not their own and, to a substantial degree, are contrary to the interests of those they argue with. Why? Well, a high degree of empathy will allow someone to correctly identify how I feel, and paired with a high level of intelligence such a person could then make shrewd but potentially highly accurate guesses as to what it is I want to hear to satisfy a need I am currently experiencing. Once this need is satisfied, I will be more willing to engage in a quid pro quo exchange.

The latter group would be more suited to engage in activities that may not require always knowing perfectly well how someone is feeling at the moment, but having a good routine and functional understanding of people’s needs, thus allowing an interaction to be helpful for someone, even if it is not necessarily experienced as friendly. Professions I would put into this category certainly include military personnel, and to a somewhat lower degree also people working in healthcare, particularly those only interacting with patients to a small extent, such as anesthesiologists, radiologists, cardiologists, in short doctors who are highly specialized and usually only see patients in very particular situations. Obviously it would be desirable to be high on both traits for those professions, but I would yet rather be treated by someone who truly cares rather than someone who only seems to care.

Finally, getting to the actual topic of my post, I would say that the way people differ in altruism and empathy has a huge impact on their friendships. My strong hunch–and I will investigate this further–would be that people high in empathy have many, many friends. In fact, I would guess that people high in empathy are extremely popular among their friends, as they seem to always know how someone feels, which really is helpful if I want someone to talk to. They are understanding and can correctly identify my needs and thus help me figure out things. However, I would say that the number of friends does not necessarily translate into the quality or depth of friendships…

On the other hand, I would say that someone high in altruism will have very strong friendships. Those friendships may be very, very few, particularly for people who are also low on empathy, given that it is difficult to develop a friendship without the capability of reading someone’s emotions. It would seem that without empathy others would think of that person as a bit “out of touch” with them, and would have little motivation to share something personal. However, if for some reason an interaction were to happen, it is very likely that after a short while the other person would realize the great amount of care and good-will on the other side and take the scruffiness with a grain of salt but form a solid friendship. And given the willingness to give up personal gain for someone else’s needs, the friendship has a good chance to stand the test of time and deepen.

As a last comment, I do believe that being high in empathy will make someone who is also high in altruism a much more effective care-giver, as it allows this person to correctly identify needs and desires in others. But that simply doesn’t mean the person cares more than someone who is low in empathy or that they know better what needs to be done as part of the caring. It simply means that they know better how to translate their care into actions that are perceived as caring, something that enhances the experience of being cared for.

Learning about the value of our own self

Yes, I work in a lab using brain imaging to figure out how emotion and the regulation of emotion are processed and implemented in the human brain, but this is once more me trying to shine a philosophically inspired light on a matter I deeply care about.

One of the patterns that stuck out for me in several conversations I had with friends over the course of the past few weeks is that many (maybe most or even almost all) humans place upon themselves something like a “value”. This value doesn’t seem to be framed as a dollar amount, but rather as a more “relative” (or relational) value, which is flexible enough to shift a little “up” or “down” according to our needs and the context we find ourselves in. The reason for putting the terms value, up, and down into quotes is that I am convinced that those are, in fact, not one-dimensional–which is the most typical way we would think about value. Rather I think that what each of us considers to be “our value” is something much more facetted, something we learn and update over time, and that given a situation is then evaluated in a specific context, determining how we feel about ourselves.

Unpacking this last sentence a bit, I believe that the determination of this “value” has three main components: first, it is almost exclusively “fed” (learned) by feedback we receive from other people. It is true that at our most successful moments, such as when we achieve a specific goal that took enough effort to achieve, we also draw “value” (i.e. feeling good about us) from that, but unless other people reflect this back by telling us how well we have done (even if just by liking it on Facebook), the initial moment of bliss over the success may even turn into bitterness. So, first we need recognition. And as a side note, naturally it matters who we get this from. The more we care about someone in particular, the more it matters what they think of us in return…

The second component is our interpretation of the feedback. This may sound trivial, but is a crucial step! In fact it is the only of the three “parts” that is (to some extent at least) in our control. Just imagine that you have achieved a wonderful thing; maybe you just cooked the best meal ever, or finished writing a paper (or blog entry), or managed to book a vacation for an incredibly low price. Whatever it is, according to your goals and needs, you achieved! And now you tell this to a very good friend, and his or her reaction is something like, “so what?” Given that you chose this person to share your success with–or he or she is a person you share much more with in general–you were probably looking for something a lot more enthusiastic. Instead you experience quite a let-down moment. However, isn’t it possible that the reason for this so-what? reaction lies in your friend and not so much in your achievement or its inherent value for your friend? So here we do have a choice to take this personally or to allow us to consider that our friend might be very busy, feeling down himself at the moment, or some other explanation for the lack of positive feedback.

In my mind, the third component is context. For instance, someone may be a tremendously hard worker but consider himself a relatively poor caregiver. In the work context, say at a staff meeting, his momentary self-evaluation (relative value) would be quite high, whereas in a more family-oriented context, say a Thanksgiving gathering of family, he might think rather poorly (low) of himself. This might then lead to a shift in preferences, such that he would rather spend time with colleagues than with his family.

And why do I care about this topic? Well, for one I believe that whatever value we place upon ourselves goes a long way to explain how we feel about ourselves on a moment to moment basis. From a very early age on and throughout all cultures I can think of, humans learn to “collapse” evaluations of all sorts into a single dimension: good versus bad, positive versus negative, right versus wrong. And that’s pretty much what we care about most. We want to belong to the “good side”, and especially in Western cultures we are constantly bombarded with the message that positive feelings are better than negative ones–people in commercials at least are rarely feeling down, and if they are then it is portrayed as bad. And naturally, we also want to be “right” as much as possible.

Why do I bring this up? I think that this (over-) simplification of value is at the heart of a lot of suffering, given that it both enhances the force of context by at the same time also reducing the diversity in which our self-knowledge can shape context and thus endanger our emotional well-being: the more I think of myself in terms of this one dimension, the more influence will negatively interpreted feedback have on my value.

And now imagine yourself back into being a small and most likely less-competent-than-now child. You have been playing with the kid of the neighboring family, and after you get home, you overhear your parents talking about them as “bad neighbors”. Something the people next door did has upset your parents, but being nuanced and context-specific is difficult, so instead of making a complicated story, all you will hear is this one (unidimensional) judgment: they are bad–at least at that moment. And given that you are hardly in a position to argue with your parents but rather depend on their support and care, your brain may simply be forced to accept their statements as facts.

This one-dimensional thinking is so deeply engrained–although it could naturally also be genetically pre-programmed–that it seems difficult for us to overcome and look at ourselves in a more nuanced way: I for instance have done quite a few things in the past 12 or so months that certainly are not among the “proud moments” of my life; but I also achieved in certain areas (and in some areas, failures and successes even overlap!). Can I look back and learn from the things I myself consider to be less than optimal and cherish the successes at the same time? Can I feel “good enough” about myself from all of this?

When it comes to our bodies, we learn movement via self-observation and a long process of fine-tuning and adjustments. One part of the circuits involved in this feature is usually called the Mirror-Neuron-System. When we perform an action, our brains predict the outcome, including the whole trajectory to be able to correct in mid-motion, and this prediction is then compared with what we see, allowing us to continually improve our behavior. Given that we cannot directly feel the emotions in other people, we must rely on their feedback, including non-verbal cues, as indirect markers, which in turn allows us to tune our behavior. However, our emotional evaluation is being degraded from the multi-dimensional reality into a one-dimensional good-or-bad outcome. Instead of allowing the combined reality that our parents love us although they also and at the same time are feeling disappointed whenever we fail at something they predicted we would succeed in, we are made to choose, and in such moments the “I’m bad and worthless” point of view seems to prevail easily…

As a last, intriguing thought: after the financial collapse of the housing bubble on the US market in 2007/2008, many people were asking why no-one saw it coming. Well, one of the reasons may be that when it comes to our professional lives we tend to work in cohorts. And maybe only hearing back from people in your own trade, particularly when continually sending and receiving messages of success, simply does not provide a “factual enough” feedback to correctly assess the (objective) value of one’s achievements. This naturally applies to many work fields, but other professions have at least come up with ideas to improve control, such as having an internal affairs department to police the police, or having two houses to self-control government. And as much as there is financial oversight, it may simply not be “outside” enough to work properly.

In short, I think we do need opposition–or at the very least an outside perspective–to form accurate views of the world and the consequences of our actions therein. In terms of emotional value, this opposition may best be offered by people we care about, but should then be presented in a way that does not support the uni-dimensional thinking we have been raised in.

What do you think?

Who am I? — reflections on a queer identity…

Whew, while I never planned to put in some hiatus in October, I must admit it was nice to take a little break. But now, back to business!

At the beginning of last month, I went to the opening ceremony of Queer Awareness Month (QuAM) at Columbia University, and the keynote speaker, Rebecca Jordan-Young, gave a wonderful talk about how allowing aspects of identity to be defined in possibly overly narrow ways can be harmful to the individuals to which these identities are “applied”. And her insights into how studies on gender identity and sexual orientation in the past have used overly narrow selection criteria in the hope of improving observable differences between groups strongly suggest that the idea of a clear-cut biological mechanism that leads to a “female brain” or a “gay brain” may better be revisited.

Since then, I have been wondering again about where I fit into the “gay world”–or maybe better queer world, using the more general, and less easily defined term–and why people feel such a need to “label” others as well as themselves with more or less narrow and fixed categories at all? And here are some of my thoughts…

Even when I was growing up, I already had a fairly strong sense of not fitting into the mainstream. My parents did not feel any particular urge to play the “follow the fashion” game that seemed to have taken hold in the late 1970s and early 1980s in the German middle-class. A lot of my clothes were inherited from either of my three-and-a-half or five-and-a-half-year older brother, which, given the fact that fashion changed quite a bit between when they and I went to elementary and junior high school, was probably a tell-tale sign of either my parents not giving a damn about fashion or us not having a lot of money. And with young kids being somewhat consciously unaware of issues such as group pressure, my guess is that some of my class mates decided that my family wasn’t too well off… Please don’t get me wrong: that in itself certainly wasn’t the reason for me to feel “queer” (i.e. unusual or maybe even not-belong to the group), but is rather one example in which I differed but clearly one that increased that sense a lot. Even more importantly, my parents made it a point to tell their kids that, eventually and essentially, we were (and have thus learned to be) responsible for our lives. And while this led to a certain amount of friction whenever we had gatherings with wider family, I must say I am tremendously grateful that I was allowed to explore the concept of self-determination at an early age!

When it comes to applying labels to other people, one of the most important reasons I can think of for doing so is that knowing certain “facts” about someone I interact with might help me in forming more accurate expectations concerning future outcomes of those interactions. For instance, knowing that someone is married with children may suggest that, in a certain situation, this person is more likely to behave in a certain manner. In short, the added value of applying a label to someone else is gaining a (false?) sense of increased certainty when it comes to predicting someone’s behavior.

An additional reason is that different aspects of identity help in forming social groups, which usually leads to group cohesion and an increase in the willingness to share resources or defend other group members against outside aggression. On average, I might be more willing and likely to help someone who shares certain characteristics with me, such as being gay, compared to someone who is different. And naturally, this also requires me to apply labels to myself…

But this comes at a potentially hefty price: first of all, if I apply a label to someone and then have stronger expectations for that person’s behavior, my own actions will reflect or at least incorporate part of those expectations. For instance, if I assume that someone is superficial and not interested in a serious conversation, I may very well start a small-talk and then, surprise, all we will ever talk about are relatively superficial topics. And when it comes to personal liberties, which is a much graver thought, as soon as labels have been sufficiently fixed, such as what “being gay” means, other properties like rights or specific privileges and restrictions become attached to this label or identity. In the case of (e.g. gay) rights, this could mean that if someone does not fully fit the label, as with bisexual people, they may or may not be granted those rights.

For me personally, applying a label to myself naturally means that I can or will “identify” with the label and whatever traits, actions, beliefs, and values that are usually associated with it. In a way, this gives me added security because I do not have to question myself in every aspect of my life all the time. But on the other hand it may also restrict my liberty. If, for instance, I identify with being Republican, I may feel a very strong urge and motivation to publicly defend some other Republican, even though without the labeling (or shared identity) I would not do so based on the other person’s character or actions.

Additionally, I am wondering: how stable is my identity? Obviously there are aspects that are factual, such as that I was born in Germany, a historic fact, or that I am white/caucasian, something that is in all likelihood true for the remainder of my life. But besides some few identities that are unlikely to change (or even unchangeable), I would argue that the entire “rest” is up for grabs. And there are a lot of possible identities to choose from, usually depending on the context. I could for instance identify as a member of Columbia University, and more specifically as a neuropsychology researcher at Columbia, as a Harlem resident, or more generally as a New Yorker, as politically left-leaning but with strong beliefs in personal liberties and responsibility, as someone in their mid-thirties, as a dependently-employed worker, as an Apple product user, as a fan of Natalie Portman, and so on. The list of potential identities is endless, and in a way it seems that each of them both adds to my sense of self while at the same time taking away the liberty to be the opposite. To be clear: each of these identities is usually only helpful in the context of contrast, like being a New Yorker in midst of people from Texas. Being a white man in his thirties among fellow mid-thirty caucasians isn’t a very “helpful” identity at all. Otherwise we could all just identify with being human and that’d be enough!

In the end, I guess that’s why, just like Rebecca Jordan-Young, I like to identify as queer. It is a “label” with a relatively strong notion of what it adds in terms of my sense of self, allowing me to be different and unpredictable, but more importantly not restricting me in any direction (other than being absolutely and dead-center average). So, yes, I love being queer!

Contracts, relationships, and our society at large

Yesterday I had a very nice chat with a friend and colleague, and as part of this chat, a theme that I had thought about before came back to my mind: whenever people interact with one another, this usually implies some sort of contract. And I want to start by giving my own, personal definition of what I understand when I use the term contract…

Naturally, there are written contracts, many of them being pre-printed forms where people simply fill in some blanks and, by signing it, indicate they are willing and accept to be bound by the terms stated therein. But I would argue that most contracts that people enter into are unwritten contracts. In that sense, for me a contract is indeed just that, the willingness and acceptance to display a certain type of behavior in the future, sometimes based on conditional contingencies, sometimes regardless of other future events. And quite a few contracts also contain some sort of provision of what will happen if the contract is not fulfilled. In some contracts this part is left out, which then means that the person misbehaving might be dragged in front of a judge, given that there was a contract to begin with, objectively speaking.

Put differently, whenever I have a (hopefully reasonable) expectation about someone else’s behavior–or more precisely for that behavior to be within certain limits–and this person implicitly or explicitly agrees to my expectation–and of course at the same time has expectations about my behavior in the very same situation–there is some kind of contract at work. And whenever such a contract is violated by straying from the agreed-upon path, there is a conflict that needs resolution.

Now, what are unwritten contracts? For one, as far as I can tell, being in any kind of relationship, including an intimate relationship, can be seen as agreeing to a contract, most of which are never written down but actually only inferred by habitual and customary behavior. To give a practical example: whenever I go shopping for groceries and I put my items on the conveyor belt at the register, I enter into a (sort of business) relationship with the person on the other side of the register, and I have a certain expectation of what is going to happen next. Unless there are circumstances at play that I didn’t notice or I have made some kind of error–for instance, I might have put too many items out for the express check-out line–I would assume that the associate of the store will start scanning or manually processing my grocery items and, once done with this task, ask me to pay for my shopping. In turn, the expectation is then that I will pay and take the items with me when I leave. Obviously, nothing of that is written down or agreed upon on an individual basis, but rather the idea of entering a groceries (or other) store, collecting, and finally presenting the merchandise at the register is seen as my entering into this unwritten contract.

When it comes to personal, intimate, relationships, the contract between the two partners might be much, much more complicated: it contains clauses covering behavior in many, many more domains and regarding many, many more possible situations. But, apart from its complexity, the contract is probably equally unwritten, and entered into–at least in the beginning–implicitly. In fact, even a first date, when two people have little to no knowledge about one another, still comes with a contract: for one, you expect the other person to behave with at least a minimal amount of dignity and respect towards you, and if that part is broken, the date usually ends prematurely.

One of the big differences, comparing such a contract to the one at the groceries store, is that people don’t always agree on what exactly that contract says, which leaves (a lot of) room for conflict. In fact, my take on relationship conflicts in general is that, other than bad intentions, ignorance, and negligence, disagreements in relationships are almost exclusively caused by two people applying different versions of the same contract to one and the same relationship.

Imagine going to the bank and signing two copies of a loan agreement, and the two versions differ in, say, the interest rate and the payment terms. I think, unless your copy has the higher rate and more frequent payments, the bank will be quite dissatisfied and upset if you don’t make your interest payments on time, in the expected amount…

The same is true in an intimate relationship, with the difference being that there is no written contract. In that sense, a relationship without a written contract requires that, whenever a conflict occurs, the people in the relationship must be willing to “spell it out” and renegotiate: what are my expectations? Why were they not met? Are my expectations unreasonable or even unrealistic? Can we find a middle ground?

For that to be successful, however, it is important that both parties in the relationship understand that the terms must be negotiable to begin with. As soon or as long as one party insists that their terms are “right” or that their views on things are “the only way to see it”, negotiation becomes impossible–something that reminds me strongly of the current political situation, both here in the U.S., but also abroad. And it is somewhat unfortunate that in quite a few situations, one of the parties in a relationship either subjectively or, even worse, objectively is in a position of power to almost dictate the terms of the contract, which, if abused, in the long run can lead to an undermining of trust, the basis for any future success of the relationship…

And speaking of relationships, here’s another idea (I know, coming back to the economy…): naturally, people who work their entire life have the expectation that their retirement will be a reasonably comfortable one, although they no longer put their work force into the generation of wealth and produce. To a certain extent–wherever financial assets and investments exist–this expectation might even be backed up by a written contract. But this obviously doesn’t change the premise of what is supposed to happen: those people have worked for most of their adult life and simply expect that they don’t have to keep working until they are on their deathbed. Society, on the other hand, makes the promise that the elderly as well as those unable to provide for their livelihood by means of work will be taken care of reasonably well.

This social contract between the older and younger generation as well as between working and non-working members of society is now threatened. Why? Over the past 40 or so years, the percentage of generated wealth, as measured by the gross domestic, attributed to the production factor of labor paid in wages has declined slowly but irresistibly–put differently, prices for every good and service used by an actual end consumer are no longer, in the main, determined by the cost of labor, but by the cost of capital and corporate profit margins. On the other hand, more and more–though still select and elite–people are able to afford living without working at all, throughout their entire life, not just retirement, simply by paying for their consumption out of some capital gains. If this trend continues, those who actually have to generate the wealth through labor will no longer be able to provide for everyone… And as much as I believe in free markets and capitalism, I think it’s high time to start re-distributing wealth to those who actually provide for it: the working class!

Family issues…

Whaaaat? No more economy blogging? Well… I admit, I still have a couple of ideas and thoughts on the economy that are worthy to be blogged about, but I feel I don’t want to become too limited by writing about a single topic all the time. Plus, today I made two very interesting experiences that stirred up the following question in my mind: For me, personally, what are the building blocks of “family”? But first about my experiences…

My boyfriend, who is originally from the Philippines, told me that I had been invited to join his aunt and uncle’s family at a one-year commemorative service for the late mother of his uncle. When I arrived at the family home, I was surprised to find out that the service wasn’t to be held at the local church but rather at their house. And the priest, a friend of the family, was picked up at his place specifically for that occasion. Naturally, not everyone who had been at the funeral service the previous year appeared–the house would also have been too small–but I was again awed by the fact that not everybody who joined in the hour of prayer was part of the “most immediate family” (although among Filipinos that might be a much wider circle). Then again, I myself was also invited, which reminded me of the first observation of the day: family is not a “rigid” concept, something that is seen the same way in every culture, maybe even something that is differently viewed and interpreted throughout the USA, at least when it comes to “who is family”. Let’s just say that I am extremely grateful that I have been welcomed and, in a way, been “inaugurated” into their family!

The second experience occurred to me out of sheer luck. On my way home I had to take the Staten Island Ferry, and while I was climbing the steps from the Yankees Stadium into the St. George Terminal, I saw a woman with an obviously heavy suitcase who I asked if she would accept my assistance. She would, and on my way up those steps I began a conversation. As it turned out, she was on her way to work, a job in which she is helping foster parents doing the best they can in situations with children from socially and behaviorally difficult backgrounds. My interest was kindled–both of my two older brothers are working in this very field: assisting children and their families in situations where external advice and support due to social or behavioral problems is either requested or required by law.

During the conversation that ensued, which made the time that I had to wait for the ferry as well as the ride to Manhattan seem to pass in mere minutes, we touched many topics. And while the following thoughts are naturally not a complete recollection of the entire conversation, I think they capture the gist of what was said quite well:

Some of the more central elements of family have to be mutual respect, care, and interest as well as structure and dependability. When people who are, at least in the more common case of families not entirely out of choice, living together, forming a unit, it is important that each member of that unit shows respect for the other members and their situation. Equally, it is essential that in cases of distress care and support should be given to those who need it, and that to determine or rather detect those cases, a general attitude of interest for each member has to be present. In fact, I would go as far as saying that these three elements are probably the basis for any form of relationship, at least any relationship that works and lasts, and that not only refers to personal but explicitly also includes business relationships. But on top of these, it is important that a family also provides structure. Instead of having to constantly negotiate meal or meeting times, chores rosters, financial obligations and allowances, plus a general code of conduct, families usually have–in most cases unwritten and not even necessarily ever spoken-out-loud–rules, almost-laws that each member is supposed to obey.

Out of the discussion came the thought that one of the issues I perceive in “unhappy families” is that those rules are, in fact, not very well developed (so they exist), or that they are dominated by either the parents, such as in an authoritarian household, or the children, families where parents are over-indulging their offspring to the extent that those children have little reason let alone the chance to ever learn that the contract underlying a functioning social relationship should never be too demanding or disadvantageous for one of the sides, because the relationship will then sooner or later break apart or become inefficient.

To be clear, I think that love and sacrifice are equally important elements of family, like parents being there for their children, no matter what, who will undertake anything and everything to ensure that “their next generation” will have the best possible foundation available for their lives. But as much as being willing and able to sacrifice might be, if the resolve and oftentimes action shown by parents in form of a sacrifice on their part is not paired with a mutually agreed-upon “social contract”, then I do not find it surprising that parents might complain about their children who, after everything that has been done “for them”, are ungrateful or lack respect. The same is, however, true for children who complain that their parents are never available and don’t show enough interest in their lives, by which I do not only mean practical outcomes but also the internal struggle in children’s lives as well as their emotional well-being.

The funny thing is that, once this contract becomes “visible”–that is, the members of the family actually talk about what should and what should not be part of the contract–many conflicts seem manageable at the very least, even if some solutions might require “thinking outside of the box”: for instance, I remember that when I was about 9 years old, my entire family once went to some group therapy sessions in which we were asked to role-play some of the more typical conflict situations that occurred, an activity followed by a feeling of amusement about the absurdity of our own behavioral scripts–and insight!

Unfortunately, our current way of living–including the mantra of ever-increasing productivity and economic growth–simply does pose many problems for a small-income or single-parent family. What to do when school ends at 5 in the afternoon, but the mother has to work until 7:30pm to make ends meet? Well, obviously the mother cannot simply abandon her job to “fulfill” the contract: in my opinion at least, a younger child has the somewhat reasonable expectation that a parent or guardian will be available for supervision and support during the day. But to simply tell your kid, “mom will be home at 9, just watch some TV when you get home” doesn’t seem like the solution of choice either… When the mother then does come home late and something happened during the hours the child was home alone, both mother and child might end up playing a round of the “who’s-to-blame” game. An equally fruitless as well as predictable endeavor: possibly a few moments of pleasure from vindictiveness and vengeance but definitely and eventually a lot of frustration and resentment on both sides!

Looking back on my own childhood, I once again can only say that I count myself as extremely lucky. After just having returned to working as a teacher once my two older brothers could be left in the care of a nanny for at least a few hours at a time, my mom unexpectedly got pregnant again, with me–which is a story in itself, and I want to do it justice, so I’ll tell it some other time… Suffice it to say, my mother decided that she would retire from being a teacher and become a full-time housewife instead. That meant that I grew up with the secure knowledge that when my day at kindergarden or school was over, someone family would be home, usually waiting with a freshly prepared meal as well as the true interest in and support with whatever was going on in my life at the time. On the other hand, my dad, while maybe being a quantum unorthodox and unfinished in his child-rearing methods, would always allow questions, try to explain the rules he sought to implement, and share his views on things with the whole family.

This combination, a dependable structure, full of loving, kind interest and support, paired with the effort to learn, improve, and then teach how to communicate and negotiate this social contract that defined and still defines our family, is probably why, to this day, I count each and every member of my immediate family to those people I would sacrifice literally everything for.

And, as a last remark: as much as I endorse the somewhat conservative idea of a family being a couple of two loving people caring for the children so as to educate them and help them develop a good moral character of their own by providing the necessary framework, I simply fail to see why a gay couple, two men as much as two women, would be unfit to meet the challenge. Quoting from Mitt Romney’s website about values:

“The values that Mitt Romney learned in his home have enriched his life immeasurably. With his parents’ example before him, he married, had five sons, and now basks in the joy of eighteen grandchildren.

Marriage is more than a personally rewarding social custom. It is also critical for the well-being of a civilization. (…)”

If only he would have ended there, and I couldn’t have said anything against it. What I find very sad, however, is that it doesn’t say what those values are and why gay couples would be unfit to pass them on:

“(… continued) That is why it is so important to preserve traditional marriage – the joining together of one man and one woman. As president, Mitt will not only appoint an Attorney General who will defend the Defense of Marriage Act – a bipartisan law passed by Congress and signed by President Clinton – but he will also champion a Federal Marriage Amendment to the Constitution defining marriage as between one man and one woman.”

If he refers to (character) education, I must say that I am very disappointed to see that the page on his site about education doesn’t seem to mention the role of functioning families at all–I hope this doesn’t imply children are supposed to learn what it means to uphold and respect a social contract at school, a little late I would say…