Tuesday, February 19, 2013

CofV Lesson 3: The Second Model

Again, this is adapted from the upcoming Conflict Communications book.

There will be some scientific details in what follows.  Feel free to ignore it.  Unless you are doing research, the background science is not important.  The concepts are.  And you know what?  I’m not a scientist, so don’t take my word on anything.
Again, like Maslow, this is a model, not a theory.  Many models are useful, none are TRUE.  
For our purposes you have three brains, which we will call the Lizard, the Monkey and the Human.

The Lizard is the oldest part of your thinking brain, the hindbrain.  Your survival instincts (particularly fight/flight/freeze responses) are triggered here.  This is the part of your thinking brain most closely tied to your physical coordination, to your physical body and your senses.  This is you, the animal.
The Lizard also has an affinity for ritual and rhythm.  Habits are laid down in this part of the brain, as are the little rituals that become mannerisms.  I always add a little dash of coffee grounds to the pot, no matter how carefully I measured it.  A mutual friend starts every conversation with, “How’s it going?”  Our black cat meows when he can see the bottom of the bowl.  Habit and ritual.
Rhythm is often used to get in touch with this old part of the mind, as in tribal drumming and ecstatic dance.  I noticed it another way, though.  When a criminal was getting adrenalized, losing his ability to reason as he got angrier and angrier, closer to exploding in violence, he would often develop odd little tics that were often rhythmic—shrugging his shoulders or bouncing on his toes.

The Monkey brain corresponds to the limbic system, the emotional brain.  The Monkey is completely concerned with social behavior, with status and what other people might think.  The Monkey cannot distinguish between humiliation and death.
For much of our evolution, being cast out of the tribe was to be sentenced to a slow and lonely death.  The Monkey knows this and fears being ostracized above all things.  Soldiers could not be relied on in wartime if the fear of being laughed at as a coward didn’t override the fear of death.
You will see the power of the Monkey in dangerous situations.  In natural disasters or major events such as the Twin Towers destruction, people were milling around, talking to each other, seeing what the other monkeys were going to do.  In Baghdad, when an explosion went off near by, some people would hit the floor.  Some (who had been there a while and could judge distance and safety) pretty much ignored it.  Most looked around to see what they were supposed to do.
Because most of the conflict we experience comes from this level, the Monkey scripts drive a lot of current human conflict behavior.

The neo-cortex, what we call the Human brain, is the new kid on the block.  It is thoughtful, usually rational (but only as good as its information).  It is also slow.  Gathering evidence, weighing options and possibilities takes time.  It tends to find a good solution, but usually one of the older sections of the brain has a decision all set to go before the neo-cortex has fully explored the problem.

You have three different brains with three different priorities.  They evolved to deal with different kinds of conflict.  They work using different scripts.  They also have a very clear seniority system.
The Lizard’s only concern is your individual survival.  It is utterly ruthless.  It is also conservative and extremely resistant to anything new.  This is why it is so hard, especially for people who have lived dangerous lives (such as victims of chronic child abuse) to change.  The Lizard only cares about survival.  No matter how hard life has been, how dangerous it is, or how clearly it seems that a bad ending is inevitable, all the Lizard knows is that you what you are doing hasn’t gotten you killed yet.  Any change might.
This can be especially obvious in moments of extreme fear.  When a rookie officer tries the same wristlock again and again even though it is not working; when an officer repeats over and over, “Drop the weapon, drop the weapon,” when it is clear he has no choice but to shoot, the Lizard is freezing them into a loop.  The Lizard assumes it is a survival loop because it hasn’t gotten you killed yet…
Most people only experience the Lizard in moments of extreme terror, if at all.  This means that they associate it with the Survival Stress Response, the cascade of stress hormones that flood your body under extreme threat.  The stress hormones affect your vision and hearing, your memory, your coordination and your judgment.  The stress hormones may make you clumsy, tunnel-visioned, functionally deaf, stupid, stubborn and incapable of remembering anything.
People who have only experienced the Lizard under these conditions assume that the Lizard is clumsy and stupid.  Not so.  An elite athlete “in the zone” is functioning almost wholly in the Lizard brain.  Watch a kid playing a video game he or she has mastered and you see the lizard brain, totally absorbed in a task.
As the oldest and concerned with the very highest priority, survival, the Lizard brain has the chemical power to completely take over your brain.  It can hijack you whenever it feels the need.  This hijacking is usually (only?) triggered by fear of imminent death.

The Monkey is concerned with social survival and status.  It literally cannot distinguish between humiliation and death. 
This is a key point in many very serious issues.  At a low level, you can see it in action by taking a group of friends out bungee jumping.  Fear of falling is one of the two fears that appeared to be hard-wired into human infants (the other is loud noises).  In bungee jumping there is a small but real risk of injury.  It usually takes a few minutes of cajoling to get a timid person to jump. A risk taker or adrenaline junkie will not need much encouragement but will usually hesitate just before making the leap.  It takes an act of will, of some degree, to overcome one of the deepest genetic fears that humans have.
Afterwards, take the same group of friends out to a karaoke bar and try to get them to sing.  Some absolutely won’t.  A few will, if they have performed before.  For most it will take alcohol, insults, teasing all to overcome a fear of… what?
What a bunch of drunk strangers will think?  Not even that, because two beers later the drunk strangers won’t even remember your singing.  Why is this fear, this imaginary fear of what other people might think so powerful?
Make no mistake, it is powerful.
In “Machete Season” Jean Hatzfeld documents a man in the Rwandan genocide who went out every morning to hunt Tutsi and hack them up—men, women and children—with machetes.  The man said that the taunts and jeering and laughter if he didn’t join in were much worse, ‘like a poison.’
The monkey is powerful, and it explains some very deep, very dangerous puzzles in human behavior, conflict and trauma.
The physical injuries from rape often heal quickly.  The psychic scars take much longer if they heal at all.  Because the monkey brain’s view of how the world should work, the things that can and can’t happen, how people treat each other are shattered.
That people stay in a clearly abusive relationship is a puzzle, but not for the monkey.  The monkey knows that it is still a relationship.  That you have a tribe and a place, no matter how painful, is less terrifying than to be alone or to be uncertain of your place.
Listen to those words: painful, terrifying.  The Monkey is the seat of emotions. 
There are deeper emotions.  The Lizard understands a pure joy in the physical world that rarely makes it to the conscious mind.  The lizard also understands a primal fear of extinction.
The Monkey, however, lives on the social nuances of emotion.
It is less afraid of dying than of being seen as a coward, of shame.  The Monkey turns honest grief into self-pity.  Sometimes it turns Lizard fear into rage, and that can be a profound survival strategy, but the Monkey can also produce rage in response to an imagined insult.
It is not always negative.  The connections with family, friends and our sense of belonging to any group triggers at the Monkey level.  It allows compassion, patriotism, self-sacrifice and a desire to make a better future for others.  The monkey is the one who can feel the concept of a community.
Sometimes, guided and influenced by the Human brain, it is rational and altruistic.  Even when it is not, the Monkey mind feels rational.  This is a huge danger.
Studies have shown that when people who label themselves ‘conservative’ or ‘liberal’ are asked to explain their political views they feel logical.  They sound logical.  But their neo-cortex (where logic resides) isn’t even active.  The activity is in their limbic system, their emotional centers.  Their Monkey brains.
When you label yourself, whether by nationality or creed or political party or business affiliation or social club, you are in your Monkey brain.  No matter how rational you feel, the label has the specific purpose of identifying you within a tribe and preventing you from thinking rationally.
Because, if you notice a pattern here, all of these obviously silly or inefficient Monkey Strategies (staying in bad relationships, hacking up others, fear of humiliation, labeling) do work.  They just don’t work for you.  They work to keep the groups together.
The Lizard, the Monkey and Death
The Lizard is only concerned with survival and outranks the Monkey, so how, as mentioned earlier, can there be soldiers?  Why doesn’t the Lizard keep people from getting into the position of choosing between status and survival?
Because the Lizard cannot deal with abstract concepts.  The idea that a mortar might hit you has no meaning, no immediacy to the Lizard.  Once the Lizard has heard the whistle and seen an explosion, the example becomes real.
Then, though it might run, it also learned that the training worked.  Once the lizard trusts the training, you can get a hyper-efficient soldier.

We like to think that our Human mind is who we really are.  We like to think that we spend a lot of time there.  Get over that.
The Lizard and the Monkey both work at a level below words.  You can think of it as subconscious.  Words are symbols, imprecise and slow.  The Human mind is the master of words and symbols.  Words have great power in explaining our actions to others.  And to ourselves.
Research has shown, very consistently, that in many cases decisions are made subconsciously before the conscious (Human) brain has even finished evaluating the question.
If someone asks, “Which of these shirts do you like best?”  Your subconscious mind will have chosen one before your conscious mind really starts to compare them.  When you are asked why you chose one, your conscious mind will have an answer—an answer completely invented well after the decision was made.
Much of the time spent in our Human mind is spent making up reasons for what we already believe or have already decided.  Sometimes we are explaining it to others.  Often we are explaining it to ourselves.  As long as there is no friction, as long as our explanations work well enough that our map of reality isn’t obviously whacked, our brains don’t care if our explanations are accurate.
That’s right.  We only care if we are lying to ourselves if it gets us in trouble later.  Frankly, the Monkey and the Lizard don’t give a damn about explanations.
You know this.  Think of a time when someone made an incredibly stupid decision.  Didn’t that person have a very reasonable sounding explanation?  That’s the Human covering for the Monkey.  Now think of a time when you made an incredibly bad decision…
Despite its slowness, its capacity for self-delusion and the ease with which it can be hijacked, the Human brain is extremely powerful.  The Human brain solves problems.  That’s what it does.
Using abstract reasoning (something the Lizard can’t comprehend) and juggling symbols (something the Monkey often can’t distinguish symbols from what the symbols represent—the probable basis for hypnosis and much of primitive magic) the human brain brings relatively new and unheard-of powers to solving problems:
How do we get these supplies over the border?  Why isn’t the car starting?  What do these symptoms mean?  How do I reach my goal?
Only the Human mind can understand an abstract goal and work towards it.  The Monkey and the Lizard, despite their strengths, are purely reactive.

What this means for martial artists and self-defense and people interested in responding to violence (and this isn't in the current edition of the manual.  We'll see if it gets added:

Skilled fighting, self defense training, is a very human brained activity.  Good training is logical.  It works.
Unfortunately, the lizard doesn't believe in training.  Which means that on the edge of survival, you won't use your skills.  the lizard will push the human away, "Back off, kid, adults be talkin' now.  I been handlin' this since T rex roamed the earth..."  Usually, the natural reactions have to fail before the hindbrain will relent and let you use the trained skills.  If and when that happens, however, and when the hindbrain begins to trust the training... the hindbrain will back you a hundred percent and you will come to fight with both the skill you have trained and your efficient essence as an animal.  that is levels beyond what most people have ever experienced, but it is incredible.
Except, if your monkey brain is triggered.  Which it often will if you are facing another human.  The monkey will not necessarily recognize a potentially lethal assault situation.  It will see another human being.  It will likely (unless you have ben raised or trained to not see people you don't know as humans) want to respond as if this was an in-house problem.  Which means the monkey will instinctively not injure (because that will weaken the tribe).  The monkey will posture-- trying to look big, squaring up, flexing muscles, possibly the worse possible way to stand in a fight.  And when the monkey does hit, it will hit to communicate.  Most women slap, most men do a looping punch at the head.  Neither of those will do serious injury, and sending a message without serious injury is the monkey's intention.  Does this make sense?  Not for self-defense. But if you look at it clearly everything you do instinctively in a fight are the exact things that would impress a female chimp.  they want to see strength and endurance and aggression, not sneaky ruthless efficiency.
So two levels of deep wiring can completely subvert years of training.


Anonymous said...

Really enjoying this series (especially as my notes from the ConCom lecture in Swindon last year are somewhat haphazard) - thanks!

So if our instinct in a fight is to treat the other party as a fellow tribe member, military and similar training that teaches you to "other" the enemy is rewiring the monkey brain? Presumably good training can also bypass the monkey altogether, teaching you to deal with the problem as a pure survival strategy.

Is one method better than the other? Should one or the other be used for war vs civilian self-defense? Should both?

-Mike B.

Josh Kruschke said...

Kind of relevant & might be distracting/off topic, but wondering what your thoughts on aspergers in relation to the lizard, mokey and the human?


SavageKitsune said...

Wow. That was one great read. Thank you.

Anonymous said...

I enjoyed this one, really good writing. Almost spilled my coffee a couple of times when laughing, because all the things are so obvious...maybe too obvious.



Unknown said...

Very good model. Gave me new outlook on a few things. Thank you.

RXian said...

A thing I used to do when sparring...was looking at my opponent slightly out of focus. I basically saw an outline and movement. Without seeing human features, I didn't see a human. Almost all of my apprehension faded.

Anonymous said...

> Unfortunately, the lizard doesn't believe in training.

Agreed, so now what does one about it?

I've never heard it stated before, but I figured this out for myself a long while ago. I'm trying hard to train behavior B. Unless I'm going slow enough to be deliberate, I do behavior A. Behavior B is demonstrably better, but behavior A has saved my life in one or two situations I had no business surviving. The lizard brain gets half a finger on my behavior and I'm back to A.