Psychologists use smartphones to measure ethics

What would you do if you could divert a train to save five men but kill one man as a result? Would you do so? What if you had to push that man in front of the train to save the others?

Psychologists often use these kinds of “trolley problems” on test subjects using desk computers in their laboratories to study our moral reasoning. But recently a study published in the journal Science went beyond hypothetical questions into real life. Psychologists now have a sophisticated lab tool for examining morality not just in the lab, but in everyday life: the smartphone.

In the study, 1252 participants of varying ages, ethnicities, and educational levels from the US and Canada texted—in their homes, in the streets, wherever they happened to be. At five random points each day, they would receive a survey by text message, and they would briefly describe the moral or immoral acts they had committed, been the target of, witnessed, or learned about (e.g., through gossip, news, and the internet) within the last hour. From the texts, the researchers were able to measure the frequency and content of moral and immoral acts.

They found that people who were non-religious committed about as many moral acts as those who were religious. And liberals reported more moral acts of fairness, liberty and honesty, while conservatives reported more moral acts of loyalty, authority, and purity. Committing a moral act was associated with a greater sense of purpose, and being the target of a moral act was associated with higher levels of happiness.

Overall, moral acts were reported just as often as immoral acts, but there were some interesting imbalances. Acts committed by the self or received from others were more than twice as likely to be moral than immoral. The opposite case emerged for learned-about acts: they were more than twice as likely to be immoral. The use of smartphones allowed researchers to examine interactions in real-life time, which previously had not been possible in the laboratory. This allowed them to examine how one moral act determined the occurrence of another throughout the day.

Their findings provided evidence for a kind of moral slacking that psychologists call “self-licensing”: people who commit a moral act early in the day are less likely to do so later on, and more likely to commit an immoral act. But there was also evidence for what psychologists call “moral contagion”: people who receive a moral act are more likely to commit a moral act themselves later that day. Self-licensing and moral contagion are amenable to social intervention. So we may be able to alter moral behavior by intervening in the moral course of people’s days.

Researchers foresee the ability to use the smartphone not only for data collection, but to provide interventions to increase self-discipline. According to the original paper, “Given these different mechanisms, it seems important to find out more about how the principles of moral contagion can be used in public policy interventions, and how moral slacking may be prevented.” The study is one of the first of its kind to study ethics outside of the laboratory. More studies will need to be done, but this one has made striking entrance into the real world.

It collected an impressive number of 13,240 responses, substantially more than most psychology studies. The larger the number of responses, the better that sample represents the general population of interest. This allows for robust results and generalization across large populations. But since participants were sampled exclusively from the West (US and Canada), researchers weren’t able to examine how cultures differ in their prioritization of moral values across cultures – a subject of great interest to moral scientists.

Still, the study provides evidence that controlled but artificial laboratory findings also apply to people’s everyday moral experiences. Although the findings are tentative, they provide important areas for further research, and new methods to do so in real-time, everyday situations. “I think of this as a first look of how morality plays out in real life,” says Dr. Brian Nosek, a psychologist at the University of Virginia. “The first telescopes didn’t tell us everything about the galaxy, but they gave us a tantalizing sense of what’s out there.”

Rightly Wrong: Understanding the Autism-Vaccine Misbelief

The evidence is clear: vaccines are not linked to autism (American Academy of Pediatrics, Center for Disease Control, World Health Organization, Institute of Medicine). Yet, many people (Jenny McCarthy on Oprah, John McCain) and parents refuse to believe the science. Even after various pro-vaccinations campaigns - facts, science, emotions, stories - no kind of intervention is effective in making people change their minds. If you are thinking, "Why??," so am I.

A recent NY Times article, "I Don't Want to Be Right," provides some insight.  The article is about why people refuse to change false beliefs, even in the face of clear factual evidence and acknowledgement of the truth of such evidence. Take, for example, if someone says, "I know that the world is round, but I'm going to believe it is flat." Why would this happen? 

Consider this scenario:

...not all errors are created equal. Not all false information goes on to become a false belief—that is, a more lasting state of incorrect knowledge—and not all false beliefs are difficult to correct. Take astronomy. If someone asked you to explain the relationship between the Earth and the sun, you might say something wrong: perhaps that the sun rotates around the Earth, rising in the east and setting in the west. A friend who understands astronomy may correct you. It’s no big deal; you simply change your belief. 

But imagine living in the time of Galileo, when understandings of the Earth-sun relationship were completely different, and when that view was tied closely to ideas of the nature of the world, the self, and religion. What would happen if Galileo tried to correct your belief? The process isn’t nearly as simple. The crucial difference between then and now, of course, is the importance of the misperception. When there’s no immediate threat to our understanding of the world, we change our beliefs. It’s when that change contradicts something we’ve long held as important that problems occur (Maria Konnikova, NY Times, I Don't Want to Be Right).

Why would false belief happen? It'd happen if the belief tied in strongly with your sense of self, if that belief changes beliefs about a whole range of other things, if that belief threatens something you stood for with conviction. "A man with a conviction is a hard man to change. Tell him you disagree and he turns away. Show him facts or figures and he questions your sources. Appeal to logic and he fails to see your point." So wrote the celebrated Stanford University psychologist Leon Festinger" (See related article: Chris Mooney, Mother Jones, The Science of Why We Don't Believe Science).

What can scientists and physicians do about the vaccine and autism mis-belief, then? The answer is not clear, since the topic has become one of such conviction; one highly invested in emotion for parents and caregivers. But, at least it is not an inherently ideological one. The best we can do is try to prevent it from becoming more so - and that applies to all our politics and debates. 

And that, ultimately, is the final, big piece of the puzzle: the cross-party, cross-platform unification of the country’s élites, those we perceive as opinion leaders, can make it possible for messages to spread broadly. The campaign against smoking is one of the most successful public-interest fact-checking operations in history. But, if smoking were just for Republicans or Democrats, change would have been far more unlikely. It’s only after ideology is put to the side that a message itself can change, so that it becomes decoupled from notions of self-perception. 

Vaccines, fortunately, aren’t political. “They’re not inherently linked to ideology,” Nyhan said. “And that’s good. That means we can get to a consensus.” Ignoring vaccination, after all, can make people of every political party, and every religion, just as sick (Maria Konnikova, NY Times, I Don't Want to Be Right).

We're all mad here: Rachmaninoff and Hypnotherapy

Rachmaninoff fell into a deep depression after the disastrous debut of his First Symphony in 1897, and underwent hypnotherapy as a result. He reportedly produced his Piano Concerto No. 2 through the help of regular sessions. The composer himself stated: “… I heard the same hypnotic formula repeated day after day while I lay half asleep in an armchair in [Dr. Nikolai Dahl]’s study. ‘You will begin to write your concerto. … You will work with great facility. … The concerto will be of excellent quality.’ I felt that Dahl’s treatment had strengthened my nervous system to a miraculous degree. Out of gratitude I dedicated my Second Concerto to him.” (source: Philadelphia Orchestra)

I used to believe that hypnosis was in fact, not an altered state of consciousness, but one in which one finds one's own expectations and the expectations of others vastly altered, so that you believe in yourself. I saw it as a kind of extreme placebo effect. And, as a fervent believer in the power of belief (naturally), I was satisfied with that.

But, I'm beginning to believe in the wonders of hypnosis as going behind the mind, or perhaps more aptly stated, having physical influences (mind to body), as Rachmaninoff remarks, "strengthened my nervous system to a miraculous degree". All this is more compelling by the accepted use of self-hypnosis to allow women to undergo natural childbirth with minimal pain, as one example. I'm starting to wonder, where do we draw the line between mind and body? (Related post: Body and Soul)

Interestingly though, Rachmaninoff's statement reminds me of the power of religion, which is itself the power of belief manifested in a different form--"had strengthened me... to a miraculous degree...out of gratitude I dedicated my Second Concerto to him." I'm a bit of a skeptic of hypnosis and religion, yet I have a respectful sense of awe toward both.

Just a thought. Also another thought--Rach 2 is mad. It's so often associated with madness. In Rachmaninoff's case, it's a journey out of the madness of depression. For the case of the schizoaffect-ed pianist, David Helfgott, it's said to be the piece that brought "madness" upon him. It's mad in so many ways and we love it in so many ways.

Well, I guess for us musicians, scientists, skeptics--"We're all mad here."

Paul Bloom: The Origins of Pleasure

Another great TED talk.

Why do we like an original painting better than a forgery? Psychologist Paul Bloom argues that human beings are essentialists -- that our beliefs about the history of an object change how we experience it, not simply as an illusion, but as a deep feature of what pleasure (and pain) is.

Paul Bloom: The Origins of Pleasure


This video became a "rhyming event" for me today. I watched it just seconds before going to the home society where I've been playing piano for kids with developmental disabilities this summer. As I enter, I see that John, one of the kids, has a freshly-painted finger-painting sitting on his lap. It's of a heart. He says it's for me. That meant so much to me, and I though it was such a beautiful painting. Most people would probably look at it, see a blob of red and pink, and shrug.  But I'd rather have this painting than a Vermeer. So yes, it goes to show, the "history" of an object makes all the difference in our experience of it.

Paul Bloom brings up good points about our experience of music as well. The piece, 4'33 has been under scrutiny in relation to so many topics--how do we define music? how does the fact that Cage composed it change how we view the piece? I find it amusing that not only is 4'33 on iTunes, but you can enjoy it here on youtube performed by a full orchestra and a packed audience that gives it a standing ovation (and plenty of coughing between movements). The Joshua Bell "experiment" (in quotes because it wasn't really a controlled experiment) mentioned in the video has a slew of other factors involved as well, like the environment (I disagree with the video--the listeners in the noisy subway, busy with places to be, were not listening to the same Joshua Bell played in a perfectly acousted concert hall. "History" can't account for everything of course.

Once again, psychology has shown us the power of belief in shaping our experiences.

The mind is its own place,
and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell,
a Hell of Heaven

--John Milton

Desiderata: Does Expressive Writing Make You Happier?

Written by Max Ehrmann to his diary, c.1920

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass.

Take kindly to the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

I had forgotten about this little piece of prose poetry until my little sister was assigned to memorize it for her gifted class. And I had a sudden flashback to my own eighth grade self memorizing this as well. I'm starting to realize how much that class has shaped who I am, as much as people may scoff and say, "We never learned anything in gifted."


Desiderata raises something of psychological interest: Max Ehrmann wrote this to his diary. Did that make him happier? Healthier? Pennebaker's expressive writing paradigm showed that people who engage in expressive writing report feeling happier and less negative than before writing. In the expressive writing paradigm, participants were asked to write about traumatic, stressful or emotional events for 15–20 minutes on 3–5 occasions. Those who did so generally had significantly better physical and psychological outcomes compared with those who wrote about neutral topics. 


The Pennebaker writing paradigm seems to suggest that the expression of emotion helps to cope with the emotion. However, the results seem to go against another study by Bonanno & Keltner (1997), in which the expression of emotion in facial expressions led to higher levels of grief. This supports the facial feedback hypothesis, somatic marker hypothesis, and James-Lange theory, which all say that the body greatly influences emotional experience. 
"Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit."


Perhaps we can resolve the dilemma of "to express or not to express" in this way: express through the mind instead of letting the body dictate. Perhaps expression through writing distracts from one's physical expressions by focusing energy elsewhere. Perhaps crafting words allows you to look at your experience in a different light, perhaps see it as a lesson learned, or growing experience.


It might not work for everyone, but why not try?--write in a diary, write a poem, write a song. "Be cheerful. Strive to be happy."

Choices, choices, choices...

It's a simple question: Left or right?
Of course, the most basic questions are never simple. The more you think, the more you get tangled up in more questions.  Up or down? Over or under? And where will it take me? What determines life's trajectory? How do we choose?

The Future is a question that has undoubtedly flitted (likely done more than flit) across the mind of every person. After all, the question boils down to one thing humans love and fear: uncertainty. Studies in health psychology reveal that patients fear uncertainty more than death (Brynildsen, lecture). Certainly, the state of unknowing can be more nerve-wracking and taxing than the knowledge of the worse-case scenario. But then, as we've discovered in our exploration of the art of science, the uncertain, the ambiguous, the abstract is also where beauty resides and artistry reigns.

In a quest to unravel all of our futures, I turned to my trusty friends Jad and Robert from Radiolab (Radiolab is an NPR program with science episodes and podcasts--lots of psychology and neuroscience--with super-duper sound effects and wonderful storytelling.). The podcast, "How Much Is Too Much?,"  shed some light on how we make choices, and how having options affects us, for better or for worse.

According to Barry Schwartz, the problem of the modern era is that we have too many choices. At the Berkeley Bowl, there are hundreds of oranges and apples to choose from. Surely, having options is a good thing, but how much is too much? Well, studies show that 7 (plus or minus 2) items is our cognitive limit (see the famous The Magical Number Seven, Plus or Minus 2 by George A. Miller). When mentally overloaded with more than 7-ish items, our rational thinking process breaks down. In words, this manifests itself as "overwhelming"! (Sidenote for the disheartened: Consider, what is an item? This can be fuzzy. It could be each letter from list of letters, or according to the podcast, a category of apple traits. But say you blocked a group of letters together into words. Now, you can remember much more than seven-ish letters. For example, N B A F B I T G I F (10 items) becomes only 3 items when blocked as NBA FBI TGIF. This is called "chunking." )

So what does this mean? That sometimes we can't trust our rational brain? Then what should be trust? Our gut? It may sound a bit counterintuitive, but perhaps so. Our emotional response is a quick decision-making system shaped from our whole life's worth of experience. It's an undercover guardian, guiding our decisions before we are even conscious that our path has been set. Antonio Demasio's Somatic Marker Hypothesis claims that when faced with complex and choices, emotional processes can help guide our decisions when cognitive processes are overloaded (body responses associated with outside stimuli are "somatic markers"). This hypothesis was tested in one of psychology's most famous experiments, the Iowa Gambling Task. In this task, participants were presented with 4 decks of cards, with the objective of making as much money as possible. Two decks were "bad" decks, and two decks were "good" decks, but the participants did not know which decks were bad and good. The bad decks had cards that gave higher gains, but also some cards with huge losses, so the net result would be loss. The good decks had cards with low gains, but also low losses, so net result would be gain.

As the participants were choosing decks, their skin conductance response was measured, and they were asked to categorize their level of awareness of their decisions. After about 50 cards, most healthy participants were consistently choosing from the good decks. Now here's the interesting part: the results showed that the healthy participants' skin conductance response knew which decks were bad very early on (high SCR in response to the bad decks), and that participants were choosing from the good decks far before they even knew why they were doing so. On the other hand, participants with orbitofrontal lesions never learned to pick from the good decks, since they did not have the physiological response. It's a bit unsettling, that our body guides our decisions without our mind's awareness, but it's also comforting that it makes the right ones, according to the Somatic Marker Hypothesis.

It's comforting, that we're not really as lost as we might think we are. That something is guiding us, helping us choose which deck to pick, which road to take, which direction to turn. It's something that embodies both cognitive and emotional processes. I think that's passion. 

Doe, a Deer

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."  

~Maya Angelou

The title may be the only thing remotely musical about this post. This post is not scientific, nor musical, nor psychology-related. But it is artistic, and it belongs in the blog as one of those "make the ordinary extraordinary" moments. I just had one of the most beautiful fifteen minutes of my life. I just felt like I was some character in a fiction novel. I just talked to a deer.

I was gently swinging on the swing set in my backyard, eating my hotpocket and enjoying the beautiful weather. 82 degrees Fahrenheit, sunny blue sky, gentle breeze pushing me along, my thoughts drifting, thinking about how I would no longer be in my teens soon, deer. I frooze. Deer? My eyes darted back toward the trees in the distance. About forty feet away, there stood a deer, a doe. Doe, a deer. Beautiful, tall, full-grown, majestic. She had a kind of hesitant curiosity about her, as did I. She stared at me, perhaps some fear in those eyes. I didn't want to scare her away. I wanted to let her know, "hey, I like you, you're beautiful, please stay." When my eyes met hers, we connected. That moment, everything was still and time slowed. We just didn't know what would happen next. I felt awkward being stared at so intently, and I lowered my gaze. I rested my head along the swing's chain. I let my hair drift in the wind. I smiled. No teeth, just a shy smile. I looked up again, smiling. I looked at the doe in my periphery, not directly. I could tell her eyes were still penetrating on me. And so I continued, resting my head, trying to appear natural, trying to tell her I'm not dangerous, I'm just like you, I want to be friends. I did. And then I did something funny, I bowed. I sat in that swing and lowered my head, ever so slightly, to show my respect. I was half hoping she might bow too. I could tell she wasn't as scared anymore. There was some curiosity in her eyes. I cocked my head, showing my interest as well. And then she did something.

Still staring at me, she lifted her right leg, deliberately, slowly, and then just as deliberately, stomped the ground. It wasn't a hard, angry stomp, but it was a firm, steady, stomp. I waited a little. Then I too, while still sitting on the swing, lifted my right leg, ever so slowly, and then lowered it, not as firm as the deer's placement, but with deliberation. I'm not sure what made me do it, it just felt natural. I wanted to tell her, you're the one in charge, I'm shy, I'm timid, don't be afraid of me. And then, she did it again, but with her left leg. I copied once again, with my left leg. Her left, my left, her left, my left, her right, my right, her left, my left. It continued, a sort of steady tempo of about 10 beats per minute (10 seconds between leg lifts), her leading, me following. I'm not sure how long we just did that, probably just a couple of minutes, but it felt like a long time. And then, she stopped. She walked around a little. I thought she was about to leave, but she came back. I looked around to. I started playing with my hair, pretending to groom myself. And then, I bowed again. This time, deeply, my hair touching the grass. I looked up, half expecting her to be gone, but there she was, looking at me with softened eyes. Then I lowered myself to the grass, I felt too artificial, too distanced, sitting on a man-made swing set. I made myself lower, I made myself more approachable, sitting sideways, resting my weight on one hand, like how girls sit when they're wearing a dress. The doe started walking toward me. She did seem curious. I held my breath. And then, perhaps thirty feet away, she stopped. She stomped her right leg, but this time, immediately followed it by stomping her left leg. She waited. I shifted so my weight was on both on my hands, and then gently lifted up my right, and then left hands. She stares at me. Five seconds pass. She does it again. Right leg, then left leg. I follow--right hand, left hand---and just as my left hand reaches the grass again, she suddenly lets out a tremendous snort of air, almost like a sneeze, and prances off. Really prancing, she seemed so joyful. I was in shock. I didn't know what it meant. I wonder what I had told her? It seemed so sudden, like I had just said something delightful, and she had to go and tell someone. I was in disbelief, and just stayed there half sitting, half lying on the wet grass, jeans wet but I didn't even notice.

And then, recovering from my daze, I returned to the swing set. I stayed there for another five minutes, thinking she might return and have something to say. Then I went inside, grabbed some corn, and returned to the swing set, waiting for her. I stayed out there another ten minutes or so, thinking about what had just happened, and realizing this was the most beautiful kind of experience I could have asked for before leaving my teen years. That doe had a kind of wisdom and maturity. I do feel more ready to grow up now.

She never returned. I'm leaving for the lake tomorrow, but I'll be back in a few days.

It's argued that theory of mind, "the ability to attribute mental states—beliefs, intents, desires, pretending, knowledge, etc.—to oneself and others and to understand that others have beliefs, desires and intentions that are different from one's own" and an important component of empathy, is unique to humans, but I think this doe I met today has theory of mind. (So I lied, this post is a bit psychology-related.)

From the Literary Vesicle: Body and Soul by Frank Conroy

Body and Soul was written by a true musician. It is about a gifted young pianist's journey through music, through life, through maturity, through the professional music world and music business. It gets at the heart of what music making means, and puts into words the those inexpressible, wonderful, magical moments of music making.

The story is a fictionally rich and beautiful one.  But I'm actually not going to write about the plot (here's a nice plot synopsis). I'm going write about the parts that resonated to me, parts that express some experiences of music making that I've never known how to express. The music making that goes beyond the body--that is what music is all about, and this book gets across that wonderfully. Here's a rather lengthy passage, but I'm going to quote it in it's entirety, because it's my favorite from the whole book, and it's absolutely true. This is a dialogue between the piano teacher (Fredericks) and the student (Claude), in which the piano teacher has just told his student that there is an attraction, like magnetism, between two pieces of glass that were given to him:

When, after a moment, the orbits of the two pieces of glass brought them near each other, Claude both saw and felt his ball move slightly out of its orbit toward the other one. It was quite distinct. A little jump.
"You see?" Fredericks said. "You held perfectly still?"
"Yes." Claude was amazed. "Magic. Is it magic?"
Fredericks took the glass balls and put them back in his desk. "Some people would have you believe so, but it isn't. It only feels like magic."
"Well, what is it, then? What made it do that?"
"You did."
"No, I didn't move. Not one bit. Anyway, I could feel it. I could feel a little tug when it jumped."
"You believed the pieces of glass were attracted to each other."
"Well, you said they, I mean, I didn't actually know whether--"
"Listen to me, Claude," Fredericks said. "This is important. It's because you believed."
"But that's like magic. You said--"
"I said you did it. You did it without knowing it. Tiny micro-movements in the pad of your thumb and the pad of your forefinger. Infinitesimally small movements below your level of physical awareness, magnified because of the length of the string, making the ball jump."
...

"I've just shown you that your fingers can do more than what you physically feel them doing." He made a little arc in the air with his hand. "The other side of the wall."
Claude thought about it. "Yes, but how? How do you do it?"
Fredericks got up from the desk and stood directly in front of the boy. "You must imagine the music in your head. Imagine it shaped and balanced the way you want it. Get it in your head and then believe in it. Concentrate, believe, and your fingers will do it."
"My God," Claude whispered.
"Anything you can imagine clearly, you can play. That's the great secret."
So, it goes beyond the body," Claude said.
"Exactly."  (Body and Soul, p. 117-119)

The power of belief is magical, but not surprising. Psychology knows this well. The powers of the placebo effect are well-known. Just a couple of weeks ago, our health psychology professor showed us a video on the power of the placebo surgery. Patients underwent a sham surgery for knee pain. In other words, they underwent surgery without the actual surgical procedure, in which incisions were made, but no actual knee surgery was performed. After the "surgery," there was overwhelming improvement. Patients testified how the pain that had impeded their whole lives was gone, and they could go back living normally. Yet they never had an actual surgery, the improvement was all in their head. "So, it goes beyond the body." Here is the video our professor had shown us:

Placebo Surgery

 

Well, reading this, believing seems so simple. But it's not. Yet this it is the key that makes all the difference. Focusing on the music, not on your playing of it. But there's something further than just imagining the sound, you have to imagine the image, the scene, the thing you want to portray with the sound--what story you want to share with the audience. And from there, things take off.

Mark Steinberg, first violinist of the Brentano String Quartet, and my coach for one semester of "Projects in Musical Performance" once said something that I remember dearly. He told us at our last lesson together before final concert (I was playing a piano duo--Schubert Allegro in A minor), "How many people around you can do what you are about to do? You are going to take all those people on a journey together, and only you can tell that story." That's what music is all about, affecting those around you. That's what life is about too--inspiring others.

A Hyper-Emotion Theory of Psychological Illness

An article appeared in the New York Times this month titled "Giving Alzheimer’s Patients Their Way, Even Chocolate." It's a feel-good article about giving in to the whims of patients to improve their mood, encouraging music and painting and flower arranging in an emotion-focused atmosphere, proving significantly effective in treating disease. 

The article attests to the importance of considering the impact of emotion in treating psychological disorders, and it got me thinking about the hyper-emotion theory of psychological illness (A Hyper-Emotion Theory of Psychological Illness), a theory by Phil Johnson-Laird, Francesco Mancini, and Amelia Gangemi, postulating that psychological illness is not a result of faulty reasoning (as is the main tenet of cognitive therapy and Aaron Beck), but one of hyper-emotion, or inappropriately intense emotional reactions. In fact, the research finds that those with psychological illness are better at reasoning when the reasoning is related to their illness. Johnson-Laird describes the theory in his book, How We Reason:

[Cognitive therapists] stress that a closer questioning of patients yields thoughts revealing that the source of illnesses is in faulty inferences. But, according to the present theory, the patients' remarks do not elucidate the cause of the hyper-intensity of their emotions, but merely their thoughts about the precipitating object or situation yielding the emotion. Their reasoning is not the cause of their illness, but its consequence. Indeed, those of us with a propensity to mental illness reason better than control participants, though only on matter concerning the illness. (p.100)

The hyper-emotion theory certainly revolutionizes the way we think about cognitive therapy. Instead of treating how we think, should we be treating how we emotionally respond? And how would we go about doing so? Perhaps, as Johnson-Laird mentions in his book, through exposure therapy, which falls under the domain of behavioral therapy. So should cognitive therapy really be a form of behavioral therapy? Then again, cognitive therapy has strong research support (as does behavioral therapy), so how does the hyper-emotion theory address that? 

Just as an artistically synaptic side-note, Phil Johnson-Laird also does research on the psychology of music (see his music-related work here), which includes emotions and music, creativity and jazz improvisation, dissonance, twentieth-century music, computer music, and rhythm (we are currently working on a study of rhythm similarity).