Reading this has made something click for me, I think.
The other day a friend of mine had what he felt was an extremely embarrassing moment—although really it was not nearly as bad as he felt like it was. I kind of had this blog series in mind when we were assuring him that it was fine, and it didn't quite connect with him, and I knew it wouldn't, but I also didn't really know what to do so I felt kind of awkward even though I worried that feeling awkward would make things worse.
Part of it is that I was hiding information, in that I actually found the situation interesting and slightly fun but I didn't feel secure in demonstrating that because I was afraid of standing out, failing the bid and making myself look like an asshole. But now I'm realising that going all-in on how I really felt and approaching it with a sense of playfulness would have both been more honest and probably would have defused the situation better.
I have frequently had the experience of wanting to console someone who is experiencing an emotional difficulty, but something about my attempt feels performative and effortful even though I do actually care. In hindsight I think that I am hiding some of my authentic experience because I feel like I'm supposed to Take Their Emotions Seriously, and that any positivity or playfulness would come across as being dismissive. I think I'm starting to understand where the disconnect is and how I could better handle these situations.
:D nice!
I have two different felt senses coming up reading this.
The first is "Ugh, I know that one". Which is itself kinda interesting since I definitely naturally erred on the side of "Am I wrong?", and bringing empathy into the mix is the easier part. But I think I know it from when I did pick my battles, and felt left out of interaction because I couldn't take people as seriously as they take themselves and was unwilling to pretend. And I guess because sometimes I'm uncomfortable with their discomfort myself, like at first in the flight anxiety example.
"Looking like an asshole" definitely isn't a fake risk especially in cultures that lack recognition of these dynamics, and there can be a substantial gap between good intent and recognition of good intent. Like, I present things in this sequence as "Know that your intent is good, and you're fine, because you can demonstrate it", and that's not wrong... but that's leaning on such a strict definition of "know". You can be right, and for the right reasons, and they can be wrong, and predictably so, but it still takes nontrivial work to verify all this such that you have the security to not be shaken when people are genuinely upset with you for things you didn't actually do wrong (I've definitely been there, but maybe not since I've had this explicit understanding). So it takes sensitivity to even quite subtle amounts of "Maybe I'm wrong, and an asshole?" sometimes to tone things down to what will go well.
The second part is that this is why I'm writing this stuff. I think there are a lot of times where people lack the understanding that it's okay to be secure and to do secure things! So you could act secure, and people would gobble it up, and good things would happen, but there's a sort of lacking social permission because there's no cultural understanding that there really is such thing as a "good asshole" let alone how it works. Or even just the middle ground of listening without "Lol, that's dumb" or "Oh you poor thing", and purely trying to understand to high precision before offering any judgements.
So on the one hand, yeah, sometimes there's a really large cultural and inferential gap, and just barging in with the sort of playfulness that feels authentic and right is overwhelmingly provocative, and so sometimes you have to temper that until you can do the prep work of figuring out exactly how much poking is okay. And on the other, often it's really just a lot easier than you think, and you can just play right away, and there's this really big and obvious appetite for such things that's clear once you tap into it.
That makes sense—everything in context. I wouldn't want to go around assuming that I can just tease anyone who is experiencing psychological distress, but I think I do have a sense of specific circumstances where it feels appropriate. And hey, I cannot remember the last time I looked like an asshole, so I'm probably overdue anyway.
Yeah, I'm definitely inclined to take your word for it. Your comment just helped me put a finger on something that could use more emphasis, which I think it a big part of the resistance people often have to these ideas.
So insecurity is the driver of both irrationality and psychological "stuckness". It's why we can't "just look at reality" and instead get ourselves wrapped up in both extremely subtle and sometimes not-so-subtle flinches from reality that necessitates a place like LessWrong in the first place[1]. It's nice to have a concrete and actionable picture of how we can earn respect and coordinate attention towards the right answer conditional on security, because that helps us notice when we're insecure. And it's nice knowing that insecurity is the potentially rational perception of our own inability to handle information productively, because that illuminates a model of secure behavior to strive towards, without getting caught up in nearby confusions like "insecurity is when we think maybe bad things".
But we still need to know what we can actually do about it when we notice that insecurity is messing up our rational thinking and rational discourse. We still need to know what it is that we can do when someone is flinching into insecurity, that will cause them to instead turn towards reality and manage it. Including, of course, when that person flinching is ourselves.
The first thing that comes to mind, which follows straight from the definition of insecurity, is to create lines of retreat. If we flinch because we know we can't handle the truth, then maybe we should put in the work to create that ability by figuring out what we could do, if we were to come into contact with the information we're terrified of hearing. "What if my makeup washes off and they think I'm ugly!?". Good question. What if? These questions actually do have answers, and once you're comfortable answering the question, you will no longer feel the need to flinch from asking the question either.[2]
While there is much to be said about how to put in the work to construct security, that's a bit of an expensive last resort, and we have not yet exhausted our options. Sometimes it really just feels like "Aw, c'mon! You can handle it!". What if we're pretty sure that's true, but the other person[3] disagrees? How can we credibly 'bid' for security such that our bids are compelling, and we get to skip re-doing the work that has already been done? How can we create security from known-truth, and do it as efficiently as possible so that we can get back to "just pointing at what's true"?
Just like with attention and respect, bidding for security means being comfortable with the risks of going too far so that you can set your sights on the target. In this case, it means doing things that are scary -- perhaps to yourself -- yet knowably and demonstrably safe.
Taking my little girls to get their flu shots was a fun example of this. When my first was two, we used to play "silly or scary" a lot. The win condition for me is to scare her just enough that she says "Scary!" -- meaning "Enough, no more!". The win condition for her is to say "Silly!" -- meaning "You don't scare me, I dare you to do worse". On its face, this looks a lot like "exposure therapy", and it is. The focus is different though. I'm not trying to extinguish fears, and my goal isn't to help her be less afraid over time. The proximal goal is to have fun, and specifically, to have a special sadistic kind of fun which is quite adaptive. Because it's truth tracking.
Our world is complex. Sometimes things that seem good are bad, and sometimes things that seem bad are good. The phrase "It's like ripping off a band aid" points at this phenomenon and our screwed up way of dealing with reality. Good things should feel good, bad things should feel bad. If a thing that's good to do, like taking off a band aid, feels bad to the point where we try to avoid the sensation by getting it over with quickly, then we're out of touch with reality. What would it like to be more in touch? What would it be like to notice that removing a band aid isn't going to harm you?
Or, to ask one of the goofiest questions ever:
What's the rational way to take off a band-aid?
The answer, is that it would be like re-contextualizing pain. Feeling that sensation which we associate with badness -- in full scariness -- and realizing that it's not actually a problem. It's actually okay, and maybe even a good thing.
This might sound weird, but it's something we already do. Some of us enjoy spicy foods, and don't interpret that burning sensation as cause for panic -- at least, until it gets stronger than we're used to. I think almost everyone understands what it means for a massage to "hurt so good". It's "pain" sensations, yes, but the meaning of these sensations is relief, and it's safe. Similarly, roller coasters, jump rock. Fear, combined with perceived safety, becomes excitement. Sad movies, and sad music, can be beautiful. And we don't flinch away from them because when we're secure we notice the difference between the message and the messenger. Reality is not our base level sensations, nor is it the mistaken abstractions built atop them.
Taking off a band-aid stimulates our nociceptors a little bit. It "hurts", but it doesn't hurt us. Taking off a band-aid "rationally" means noticing this. To the extent that these sensations are bothersome enough to try to get away from, we have something to learn. A little masochism is rational here. Teaching people to relate to band aid removal well requires putting oneself in their shoes, showing that you're in it with them, and then demonstrating that this feeling is okay. It's empathetically reflected masochism for them to follow. In other words, empathetic sadism.
Like band-aid removal, flu shots are another one of those things that on the surface seem hurty and scary, but which a more grown up understanding shows to be actually a good thing[4]. So how do you teach this to your two year old daughter such that she has fun, and doesn't feel a need to flinch away from the harmless reality?
You bid for security. You ask yourself the relevant question, "Am I willing to risk someone getting hurt?", and find that of course you are. Flu shots are safe and worthwhile. The bigger fear is "What if she gets scared?", and the answer is...
Then she gets scared.
That's fine.
"Psychological trauma" is scary and harmful if you don't know how to repair it. The solution, as with everything else, is "look at the truth". Is she okay? Yes? Great, look at that. That's what is needed. That is how you "repair trauma".
I'm not just saying this from a theoretical perspective, or dismissing it without empathy like "Nah, she's fine" while someone else is suffering and I'm not. I've been there. I'll spare you the gory details, but I went through a very bad experience which left me with PTSD symptoms for a while. Specifically, I'd get bouts of seemingly uncaused anxiety just out of nowhere. The situation as a whole wasn't at all easy to deal with, because the answer to "Am I okay?" was "No. Not really". I still had the very real problem of figuring out wtf to do with the unpleasant information I was presented with, and that was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do. But to the extent that I was okay? Like, whatever, the anxiety doesn't represent an ongoing threat, so who cares. It's fine. That part wasn't a problem. It was just "Ooh, feelings which obviously don't map reality. Neat! Anyway..". Over the course of a month or so they stopped coming up. The hard part isn't the feelings, it's when the feelings seem to be pointing at something real and important, and we don't know what to do about it.
So, what if she's scared because the shot seems scary and bad to her, and it's not? What if you can't just tell her "It won't even hurt, it's no big deal really" because she won't believe you and it escalates to insecurity before she will? Fine, we're doing it anyway, lol. Put on your evil grin and be the sadist. Enjoy her pain, because you know what to do with it, and you know that she's fine. And because you know that when you invite her to get in on the fun, she'll feel the tug.
Benevolent sadism isn't always an easy thing to do, and it takes some diligence to catch yourself worrying about feelings and refocus on the underlying reality[5]. A woman I care about texted me once about how she ate too much weed brownies before her flight and was kinda freaking out due to the unusually intense turbulence. I don't like seeing her distressed for no reason, and my first impulse was to "help".
But would telling her that she's safe have the desired impact? Not really. Some, but not enough. Would she laugh at me, because she honestly thinks my perspective isn't very meaningful here? Definitely not. Was it a security thing? Yeah. Was she in real danger? Nope, definitely not. She is okay. Might not feel okay, but is okay, and that's what matters.
So my job, I had to remind myself, was to enjoy her suffering for her. And do it in such a way that she feels invited to join me in my sadomasochism. So I teased her. "Well, it was good knowing you. Too bad this is how you have to go". "Oh, yeah, I know. You're not joking and might have an actual panic attack. Can you send me video please? I wanna see.". "Well I am having having a good time. And you like when I enjoy myself, don't you?" This can be the hardest part to communicate, because unless you've been there -- on one side or another -- it really just sounds like "Oh, so you were an asshole".
Which isn't exactly wrong, but there's a big difference between the kind of "asshole" that gets a smile along with the accusation and the kind that doesn't -- even though it can be tough to tell from the outside at times. Sometimes so hard that your best friend from second grade can't tell.
One time I was out camping with some friends and family, and after we got back my friend asked me why I was such a jerk to my cousin's girlfriend. At first I had no idea what he was talking about, but he explained that he was talking about when we were getting ready to go somewhere and I was saying stuff like "Jesus Christ, you're taking forever. Get your shit together, woman" -- and it didn't sound like I was joking. Which was funny, because that's exactly how I remembered it too, and yeah. That sounds bad.
But it came off differently to me -- and to her. It was just sufficiently clear that I wouldn't actually be annoyed with her for taking too long -- or rather, to any extent I might actually be annoyed I'm not endorsing the annoyance. I'm not attached to annoyance. I'm purposely exaggerating, and therefore communicating that I will laugh it off if she just told me to fuck off[6]. When I confirmed with her that this was indeed her read of the situation[7], she told me that she would have found it weird if I were to say "Jk jk!". Like "Why are you so insecure about this? What are you afraid of, that you're not admitting?".
The reason it would have been so unsettling and out of place is that I had previously teased her about things she's much more sensitive about -- like being a "diva" when genuinely upset and arguing with my cousin. Doing this actively created more room to play with potentially upsetting things by proving that even when she's genuinely upset and not showing her best self, and I'm calling her out on it... I actually thought she was pretty cool still, and worth him keeping around. And if that's safe, then how can you perceive danger with something as silly as "Get your shit together woman", when she's taking a few extra seconds, and I don't even mean it? If I were to signal that I was afraid, by blurting out "jk jk!"... do you see how that's evidence against security, and why it would have been disconcerting to her given the context?
When things are secure, you prove it by doing security, rather than coddling when coddling isn't necessary. You leave off the "jk jk", so that people get the chance to learn that it goes without saying. You call people "diva" rather than asking if they forgive you, when they're upset about silly things. You nudge people towards breaking down into tears, because when things are secure it is safe to play. And the further you can play the more you can learn, and as a result the more reward you can reap.
She was explicitly grateful that I didn't congratulate her for getting on the dirt bike at all, and instead pushed her to climb the hill the boys were riding. After she fell twice, I told her "Don't be a bitch, get back on the dirt bike and get up that hill". The reason it didn't come off as 'mean' is that she knew I was with her in her shoes as I said it. I she were to break down and cry after a third fall, I wouldn't judge her negatively for it. Pushing herself to the point of tears was her choice -- and one borne out of strength, not weakness -- and when you recognize that, the option of strength feels more compelling. She knew she would have space to figure out what to do with her new information, and that at the end of the day she would come out ahead in one way or another. So she took the risk, fell, and shed some tears. And then got back on the bike for a fourth time, and made it up the hill.
This is what I mean when I say that excessive "neutron moderation" can be actively counterproductive. If things really are secure, then why advertise insecurity by saying "jk jk!" when goes without saying? Like in a power plant, flirting with criticality can be useful and bring warmth when done in controlled fashion. It shows you where the boundaries of safe play are, so you can fully relax -- knowing not only which areas safe to play in, but also trusting that should you find the limit, you can bounce off and recover.
When it came time to talk to her about emotionally scary "losing the man you love" stuff, it was sure nice being able to just tell her that what she was doing was dumb. It's really nice not having to pussyfoot around the obviousness of the mistake, or waste time validating what ultimately amounts to known-incorrect ways of looking at the situation. No "But you have to worry about her feelings!" and no "But that doesn't make sense!". I didn't have to spend time explaining why my somewhat unintuitive advice of "You don't have to respect his decision to dump you" was actually correct, in this instance. She figured that on her own shortly after entertaining the idea, and he took her back in their next conversation. They're now happily married four kids in, so I don't think it's premature to say "I told you so".[8]
So "sadistic asshole", yes, but for a reason.
As I mentioned earlier, there is a big difference between the kind of "asshole" that gets a smile along with the accusation and the kind that doesn't. If you're doing it right the feedback you get should sound like that given to Frank Farrely as described in his book "Provocative Therapy"[9]
(Sincerely, warmly.): You're the kindest, most understanding man I ever met in my entire life - (Grinning) wrapped up in the biggest son of a bitch I ever met. (T. and C. laugh together.).
My friend, during her flight said something similar to me: "You always know how to make me feel better. Though if I told anyone else that, they'd be picturing something very different". Her answer to that last questions was yes, by the way. The fact that I was enjoying myself did make the experience -- fear and all -- enjoyable for her. She seemed a little mindfucked and unable to make sense of the seeming contradiction between suffering her fear and enjoying the fact that she was suffering in fear, but her honest answer was "Yes".
I'm not interested in "extinguishing fears". I'm not interested in shielding people from feeling things that are real. What I am interested in, is capacity to feel and still function. The important part is capacity to look at reality, without flinching, and play with what is real. Once you have that, noticing the reality itself becomes easy.
So what'd I end up doing with my daughters and their flu shots?
I'll tell you two versions of the story, one that accurately represents what happened and the other which is BS. See if you can tell which doesn't feel right.
1) Despite what I've been emphasizing here, I obviously recognize the limits of what one can expect from a two year old. You're literally stabbing a piece of steel into them and no matter how you look at it, it does hurt. No one likes that, and it's just inherently scary. I don't actually want my daughter to be traumatized, so I explained to her the importance of being strong. I assured her that it was only going to hurt a little bit, and that she would be fine. I reminded her that it's important to trust adults over her feelings because us adults know better and feelings are often irrational. The nurse backed me up, saying "It will quick, I PROMISE! And then you get a band-aid!". As as a result, despite starting out a little concerned, the nurse and I were able to change her mind; my little girl smiled the whole time and wasn't the least bit scared. She told me "It was easy! Fear is irrational!".
2) I told her that it was scary and bad. So scary and bad that even Dada was frightened. I purposely teased her, to see if I could get her to be afraid. When I succeeded, I teased her "Neener neener, you're afraid!" and also "As you should be. It's definitely totally scary, you know. I'm scared too!" She couldn't quite tell if I was scared or not, or if she should be scared or not, but she could tell I wasn't afraid of the fear. She could tell that I was playing with her, and daring her to play back and prove that she's braver than I was giving her credit for. When I exclaimed that it was going to HURT, the nurse panicked a bit and asked "What are you doing!?", but my kid didn't take my overly dramatic whining very seriously. She had fun playing "Braver than Dada", and the whole experience went smoothly with no tears... until we told her that she couldn't get another shot until next year, at which point she melted down.
Can you tell which is which?
Okay, I think it's obvious that the first story can't be real.
It was kinda funny having to deal with a tantrum anyway, as if the universe was teasing me for getting cocky about it. Fine, I asked for that humble pie so I'll eat it. When my younger daughter was two, I dialed it down a bit. She started to cry for less than a second, but I asked her a few seconds later and she said she was happy to get another. This seems to have stuck, because next time she was dragged to a doctors appointment, she started excitedly talking about how she was going to get a band aid, and how "it didn't hurt!". Thankfully, she took that let down well too.
I wanted to tell the fake story too to show how obviously fake it is. Even when I don't explicitly say "and then everyone clapped", the wishful thinking vibes stand out. When you have an adult clearly worried about something, trying to tell the kid to be less worried than they are, there's no way you can look at that situation and actually expect it to work. You can claim that it's the "right" way to do things, argue that it's "evidence based" (whether it is or not), but you can't say "This will work, and the two year old won't be afraid". Or if you do, you'll be lying because when it doesn't you won't experience surprise.
The real story is weirder in that the setup is less common, but the conclusion actually follows. When you show kids that it's not safe to feel, and that you're freaked out, of course they're going to learn that it's not safe to feel, and are going to be freaked out[10]. When her feelings are okay to you, and you prove it by playing with them even when she's scared, then your comfort shows her that she can be comfortable too.
If you want to bid for security, you have to face the threat that provokes insecurity, and remain secure. So your little girl is going to be scared of the shot. Can you handle that, and show her what is and what is not worth fearing? So some girl at the pool might feel insecure about her makeup washing off. Is that okay to you? What if she accuses you of calling her ugly? What if your friend's girlfriend is being kinda a diva? Can you poke fun at her without poking malice and trying to "should" her into behaving differently, as if her current behavior isn't okay? If she were to lash out and insult you over it, would you be okay, or would you have to raise your hackles and your defensive shield?[11]
What if they get hurt?
What if they hurt me?
What if feeling insecure is correct?
When my cousin burned his hand on the fire poker, I knew pain couldn't be the issue, but I didn't know whether he had learned everything he needed to learn from this little bit of uncomfortable new information. I didn't want to push him to throw out that information for no reason (or worse, do it because I am uncomfortable seeing him in pain!), so I didn't. I went the other way, towards "Are you okay?" -- or rather "[What is it exactly that's not okay? Is it that it] Hurts?"
This is the same kind of move as "Am I missing anything?" and "Am I taking you seriously enough?". Rather than pushing my own bids, I'm accepting his, and in doing so, demonstrating that there's no need to push his side to the exclusion of hearing mine.
He feels not okay. Okay, maybe he's not. What's that about? Turns out that when you ask if you're missing anything, it tends to lead to you missing fewer things -- including in the eyes of the other side of things. When you ask about what's not okay, the same thing happens.
Similarly, at the music festival, I have no idea what was going on with Ms.Grumpy pants. I can't tell her that she's okay, because I don't know what kind of mess of unintegrated information she's dealing with. Even if I did, scaring her more would lead to her fighting back and I didn't want to get kicked out for foolishly attempting to help someone ineffectively and without appreciation. So no, not gonna tell her that she's okay. I can ask though, and giving her that space to examine gave her a little more room to realize that she was okay enough to drop her beef with me and go back to half enjoying the show.
Sometimes it's worse than that though, and even "Are you okay" doesn't get more security because the answer is "NO!". In these cases, there's not much we can do to expand the width of the communication channel, and we must make do with what we have.
One example that stands out because it took me to my limits involves a very drunk friend of a friend that I had just met at a party that night.
He was having a meltdown over something or other, and was threatening to drive away which would have been seriously unsafe in the state he was in. People were telling him "Dude, that's stupid", and while I'm a fan of that approach when it works, this wasn't a case where it was gonna work. Neither was "C'mon man, don't do that", which people were trying. Just like the fire poker incident, I had no idea how to proceed. "Yeah dude, don't drive" sure seemed right, but also not effective. It'd be instant failure of security, just like every other time people tried it in the preceding seconds.
Normally, the question I use to point at the direction here is "Are you okay?". In this case though, he clearly wasn't. He was beyond "not okay", in some really fucked up place, for whatever reason. Can't get a bid for attention through, or respect, or security. I don't know what the heck is going on here, but I know that if I were so dismissive about the very high risk of a serious car crash, whatever it was would have to be bad. Taking a moment to ask myself that question "What would it have to be like for me to respond this way" was sobering. It was a "Oh fuck" kind of moment, because it would have to be really, terrifyingly, bad.
Not knowing what was going on, I didn't know what to do and didn't know how to expect "okay" outcomes with any confidence at all. So bidding for security by deliberately adding more uncomfortable emotions to his plate was off the table.
So I didn't bid. Because things weren't okay.
In other words, there was some extraordinarily threatening information he was facing, and he was already unable to compute acceptable responses as is, even without me trying to dump more on his plate. The only thing left for me to do was to help him figure wtf was going on, and, if possible, what he might want to do about it if we could get all things considered. This is the point at which we've exhausted our other options, and have to put in that work if we're going to do anything useful at all.
So I listened. And took him seriously. And I tried to figure out wtf was going on.
It wasn't easy. I never did figure it out. He threw me some curve balls that I really didn't know what to do with. When someone tells you that you look like the guy his girlfriend cheated on him with, and tells you not to look at him, wtf do you do with that? Avert eye contact? And lose the ability to look at his face to understand where that's coming from? Do you listen better by looking at him, or by not looking at him? Is it worth bidding for security at least this far?
Sometimes "listening" and offering attention requires listening and attending to what they want to give you, and the safest thing is to just accept that you won't know, and try to figure out from what they will give you. I think I sensed that in the moment, because that's what I did.
Although I didn't figure it out, I did buy enough time for his roommate to show up and cheer him up, and I don't see anything I could hope to do better to this day. It did work out though, and when I saw him again a year later he told me that he did really appreciate it, so I'm glad that even what felt kinda useless meant something to him. Effort isn't everything, but I guess it counts for something.[12]
The only other option, after escalating from attention through security and not finding suitable answer, is to not try. To just say "Well, this is more work than it's worth, at least right now", and disengage. Either you know enough about what is going on to navigate through security respect and attention to some sort of resolution with the amount of time and effort is available and it's worth, or you don't.
Are you willing to let what happens happen, if you don't step up and engage with the situation and all it brings you?
I'm drawing a distinction here between "irrationality" and "uncertainty". If you're failing to update on the evidence that you have and which you're physiologically capable of updating on, you're irrational.
If you're updating, but the updates look "stupid" and "irrational" to someone operating from a different set of beliefs, then you may be wrong and you may be ignorant but the problem is not a failure to do rationality.
This makes for a good TAP. When you notice yourself doing insecurity over a "What if!?" try it on as a "Okay. What if?".
More generally but more challengingly, any time someone says something offensive like "I disagree" or "here's what you're missing" any displeasure at hearing this serves as a good question for asking "Okay. What potential fact of reality am I taking offense to right now" and, if you can handle it "Is it true?". This person thinks their disagreement means something. Okay, does it? They're acting like they're above me! Okay, are they, in the ways relevant to this statement?
If asking that question itself brings pang of displeasure because "What if!?" (or the equivalent on the other side of the coin "NO! THEY CAN'T THINK THAT!"), then we're back to "Okay, but what if?"
Or again, the other part of ourselves.
Getting your flu shot should feel like "not getting the flu", which a weird one to put into experiential terms, but it's not gonna be a bad experience.
Discomfort at seeing someone uncomfortable is often carelessly conflated with "caring", but the object of the care is not the other person out there in reality. When the thing you're working to change is their feeling, you're not caring about their actual wellbeing -- and therefore you're not giving them reason to change their feelings either. Trying to "help them feel better" is often nothing but "trying to help ourselves feel better", by pushing away their feelings. This avoidance of the discomforting reality comes at the cost of those we purport to care about and their feelings.
I catch myself here not because "I'm supposed to do this other thing to be effective", but because I care about her dammit. When I noticed that my instinct was to "make the feeling go away", I noticed that I was flinching. When I notice the flinch, and attend to the question of whether I needed to hide from the feeling, the answer was "absolutely not" -- and that is the move that fixes the flinch.
Which I'm pretty sure she actually did.
I felt a bit weird about "confirming" what I absolutely 100% knew, but felt I should verify before stating as unqualified fact that she took it how I intended.
And this is why I'm passionate about this stuff. It's not just "Hey look, this is an interesting and effective way of helping someone deal with air travel anxiety that isn't gonna hurt them anyway". It's that when you sacrifice truth and honesty out of incautious thinking, you have no idea what you might be giving up.
I don't know what would have happened if I had not had this conversation, and I don't think I would have been able to if I hadn't invited this woman to find her limits, and then backed off once we found them together. There's a good chance they'd have ended up together anyway, because they were just so clearly right for each other. But I'm not going to take that risk just so that I can avoid coming off like a jerk to someone who can't yet see the deliberate work, and risk, and care that goes into it. To the extent that the motivation is not obvious, it's just an opportunity to talk about a topic that is dear to me and why it is so.
Similarly, the air travel anxiety may have been a small issue in itself, but the ability to leverage security created by that kind of discomfort-facing very much is not. It's always difficult to tell without a control group, but the impression I get is that there were a couple instances where being able to lean on security in that relationship were at least as significant.
That's because we're essentially doing what Frank Farrely did in Provocative Therapy. If you're trying to help someone who isn't already asking for your advice because you're Professional Therapist, you will need to negotiate for respect while maintaining security. You will be cocky and bold, while empathetic and playing devils advocate. It's no coincidence that Provocative Therapy was developed when working with involuntarily committed patients.
In contexts where a person seeks out therapy from a therapist, the respect is already there or they wouldn't be seeking the therapists input. In such cases, if the client ever acts out of concordance with this, bringing thing back in line just takes saying "Oh. I thought you were here because you wanted my input. What are you here for?" without passive aggression -- so there's generally little place for provocation.
That bus cartoon is the worst. The day before my first daughter got that next flu shot she had been excited to get, she watched that stupid bus show that tries to teach kids about shots, and I had to start from scratch. The makers of that show teach their own perspective on needles, which is "BIG SCARY BAD BUT WE HAVE TO PRETEND OTHERWISE", so they showed big and scary needles with everyone afraid of them, and some adult coming in to gaslight them about how it's actually okay.
Surprise surprise, my daughter updated on their actual belief rather than falling for the lies that they advertised to be lies". (facepalm)
As the underlying principles are beneath psychology, and therefore species agnostic, this process of bidding for security works great with dogs as well -- if you're willing to risk getting bit.
I do have some scars on my thumb from misjudging that once and playing too roughly too quickly, but most of the time dogs just relax into the play and love you for it.
In cases where you don't have any of the answers, and what matters is how the other person conceptualizes the world, what comes out looks a whole lot like Rogerian/person centered therapy.