In 1976, the late Princeton psychologist Julian Jaynes published a book whose title summarizes his theory: “The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind.” My co-discoverer Jeff and I have kept this book on our shelves just because of our affection for the wacky title, but the theory, though now somewhat scientifically discredited, was not wacky. Three of its major components are 1) That before about 1000 BC (the time of classical Greek ascendency and Hebrew covenantal monotheism), humans, instead of being automatically conscious of their intentions and behaviors, were activated by a process in which one hemisphere of the divided (“bicameral”) brain received messages from or took orders from the other hemisphere. An illustration from our own experience would be that, instead of automatically stepping on the brake pedal in a quickly developing emergency road situation, one would actually “hear” a command to “step on the brake;” and that, 2) The myth of the existence of “gods” developed from this experience of hearing commands dictating what one was to do—commands emanating not from the heavens, but from the other side of one’s head; and, 3) consciousness (self-consciousness), thus, was an evolutionary development of language; language came before (and produced) consciousness—a process that came to significant transitional fruition around 1,000 BC, the time by which the severe division between the hemispheres had been “broken down,” resulting in the more smoothly automatic mental process we know today. (Of course the hemispherical division is still an important part of brain function and study—beyond the scope of this little essay.)
Fast forward to 2019, where, in my little upstairs study, I’m reading about Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (and watching a terrific 20-part CBT lecture series from “The Great Courses”). I have been professionally interested in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for a number of years, and, more recently, personally interested in it for the possibility that CBT could, perhaps, teach me a thing or two about myself, life, and relationships. (An aside: Similarly, I was very interested, professionally, in Family Systems Theory and its emphasis on the “Non-Anxious Presence” as an important part of healthy communication, when it dawned on me: “Hey! This could help me!”) But, back to CBT…
The three corners of the Cognitive Behavioral Therapy triangle are “Behavior,” “Thoughts” (or “beliefs”), and “Emotions” (or “feelings”). Each acts to affect the others. One overly-simple application would be the old Henny Youngman one-liner: “’Doc, it hurts when I do dat.’ ‘Don’t do dat!’” In the Therapy part of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, the therapist helps the patient to see how her thoughts produce behavior and behavior produces emotions, and vice-versa—and provides strategies (and homework) to understand and take control of these three areas. A clinically proven offshoot of CBT, “Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy” (MBCT), emphasizes the value of accepting—rather than wrestling with—one’s thoughts, and then moving beyond them. “You are more than your thoughts; you are more than your feelings.” Who are you?
Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is often prescribed for treatment of such conditions as depression, obsessive thoughts, and social anxiety.[1]But it has a very valuable usefulness in addressing the problems, behaviors, communication, and relationships of normal, everyday living. The behavioral psychologist Jonathan Haidt (author of “The Righteous Mind”[2]), writing in The Atlantic,[3]suggests that every incoming college freshman should be taught the principles of CBT because “it teaches thinking skills that people can continue to use.”
One of the thinking skills that my exposure to cognitive behavioral therapy has taught me is to simply acknowledge and be aware of the thoughts and feelings that come into my head, and to be consciously aware of how these thoughts and feelings affect my behavior—to be in control of them, that is, rather than mindlessly allowing these thoughts and feelings to drive me like a Disneyland autoanimatron. Once aware of them, I can take a breath, give myself a little talking-to (my mantra is “Uh-oh, time for an attitude adjustment”), and—to use a modern analogy—“re-boot” the situation, with “me”—rather than my feelings—in charge.
Two examples demonstrate the ordinariness of the kinds of situations in which this works for me:
1) Rounding the corner to approach the check-out area at IKEA, I see that every line has at least thirty people in it. As the old anxiety starts to bubble up, I actually recite that mantra (above) to myself, and the anxiety bubbles disappear almost instantly. And I may expand on the mantra by thinking, “This can be kind of a nice time.” Sometimes this results in my chatting up my fellow line-standers. I’m not sure how they feel about this, but it has to be more pleasant than standing next to a guy who’s rolling his eyes, fidgeting from foot to foot, repeatedly checking his watch, and sighing heavily. But the person who really benefits from this new approach is me! (And my blood pressure.)
2) Speaking of checking one’s watch: Arriving for an appointment in the clinic waiting room, I used to do an increasing slow burn for every five minutes beyond my appointed time, my anti-mantra being, “Hey, my time is valuable, too!” Then, into my life came CBT (just by reading about it), and I had myself a little talking-to: “Oh boy! More time to read my book!” Now, when the nurse appears, to summon me, I’m likely to say, “What, already?”
Similarly, the great Family Systems therapist Edwin Friedman[4]points out that the words we choose to say (and how we say them) can either raise or lower the “anxiety temperature” in the room. Like this: Trying to avoid being late for a family wedding, a father can yell up the stairs to his teen-age daughter, “You get down here right now!” or, he can say, “How’s it going up there?... I think if you can be down in five minutes we’ll make it.” The importance of the difference between these two approaches is not the speed of the daughter’s preparation, but the emotional atmosphere in the car on the way to the wedding. Simple word choice! Takes about half-a-second to consider—to let yourself rather than your emotions be in charge of what you’re about to say. “It is you,” says the philosopher Goethe, “who makes the weather.”
I have no doubt I could benefit from a sit-down session with a certified cognitive behavioral therapist, but simply learning about these principles, which are profound but are not rocket science, can effect significant changes, producing (to quote Dr. Haidt once again), “thinking skills that people can continue to use.”
One final example. A couple of days ago I was driving from my home to the next town over for a weekly gathering of friends. The car ahead of me had the effrontery to be going the speed limit. (He was apparently unaware of that mysterious ordinance that says the actual speed limit is the posted number + 5.) As I craned my neck to check the passing lane, my foot beginning to press on the accelerator, I suddenly heard a voice inside my head saying, “Where are you going in such a hurry?” My response was to physically relax and think, “Yeah, why such a hurry?” And I backed off, anxiety gone.
This was no studied mantra, but something like a voice. Inside my head. Either those CBT "thinking skills" are becoming automatic--or the bicameral mind has not completely broken down after all!
~In Memoriam, Julian Jaynes, 1920-1997~
[1]“Cognitive behavioral therapy is the most extensively studied nonpharmaceutical treatment of mental illness, and is used widely to treat depression, anxiety disorders, eating disorders, and addiction. It can even be of help to schizophrenics. No other form of psychotherapy has been shown to work for a broader range of problems. Studies have generally found that it is as effective as antidepressant drugs (such as Prozac) in the treatment of anxiety and depression. The therapy is relatively quick and easy to learn; after a few months of training, many patients can do it on their own. Unlike drugs, cognitive behavioral therapy keeps working long after treatment is stopped, because it teaches thinking skills that people can continue to use.” ~Jonathan Haidt, writing in The Atlantic (see footnote 3)
[2]Run, don’t walk, to read this book. It will change the way you think about almost everything. Or, as the NY Times book reviewer put it, it is “a landmark contribution to humanity’s understanding of itself.”
[3]The Atlantic magazine, September, 2015.
[4] Friedman’s book, “Generation to Generation,” is written for therapists and counselors, but the first third of the book is a very good (and readable) introduction to “family systems theory,” including the highly important concept of the “non-anxious presence.”
This Web site is a pretty good overview of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy.
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