So what do you do about the growing aversion to information which is unpleasant to learn? This list is incomplete, and I appreciate your help by expanding it.
The underlying problem seems to be something like "System 1 fails to grok that the Map is not the Territory". So the solution would likely be something that helps S1 grok that.
Possibly helpful things:
Imagine, in as much concrete/experiential detail as possible, the four worlds corresponding to "unpleasant thing is true/false" x "I do/don't believe the thing". Or at least the world where "unpleasant thing is true but I don't believe it".
This is a normal consequence of intending at a level that requires more control than we actually have. Which is a normal consequence of not yet perceiving the interrelation and structure of expectation and control
When we control things, the effect of our control is to make our desired outcome expected -- for if we can't hit the center of the target even in expectation, then by definition we aren't in control. "Expecting" an outcome goes hand in hand with aiming to "control to" or "manifest" an expectation.
When the room is too cold, we think "Brr... it shouldn't be this cold in here!" and then go turn the heat up until room's temperature meets our expectations. Okay, fine.
But then what happens when your mom might have cancer?
You've been expecting her to not have cancer, and you want to be able to keep this expectation because who wants their mom to have cancer? So you might focus on the desired world state where your mom has no cancer, acting to do what you can to bring it about. You focus on manifesting no cancer in the biopsy -- and know this will fail, so you get this error signal that tells you it's not working in expectation. And then often in reality.
This resistance to letting go comes because we have something to lose. And there's something to fighting this fight. "Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it."
At the same time, it doesn't always work. And the suffering it entails points to our expectations actually being wrong. We're strongly expecting to not see cancer in the biopsy AND we know that this expectation is likely to be falsified. That hint we can update on.
I wish I could have certainty that my mom doesn't have cancer. Of course I wish that. Who wouldn't? At the same time, my mom might actually have cancer, and there ain't shit I can do about what's already true.
What I can do, is make sure her life does not get cut short unnecessarily. Not "My mom doesn't have cancer [dammit!]", but "My mom is going to live as long, healthy, and happy as a life is as absolutely possible. Because I'm going to make sure of it". I'm sure you, too, want to make sure your mom lives as long, healthy, and happily as absolutely possible. And you can act so as to make sure she does.
When that's your frame, where's the spider?
How do you feel about checking the biopsy, now?
For that matter, how do you feel about not checking the biopsy now?
Interesting, right?
So what do you do about the growing aversion to information which is unpleasant to learn?
To answer this directly, I notice. Like, really notice, and sit with it, and then notice what changes as a result as I realize what the implications are and allow the updates to flow through me.
Not "notice-and-then-do-this-instead!" because that's often prematurely jumping to try to a control a thing with insufficient perspective, when the problem itself is caused by trying to jump too quickly to control a thing without sufficient perspective.
So step one is to notice.
And to actively monitor whether I'm trying to "do something about it!", because I already know I don't want to jump to that. Not that I want to "Do-something-about-trying-to-do-something!", just "I don't want to do things that are stupid, lol".
Notice what the existence of this ugh field is telling me. Okay, I already know my expectations are bad. They won't be fulfilled, in my already existing meta-expectation.
What changes?
What doesn't?
Specifically, I look to what I'm realizing I can't control, and to what of value I still can control. And then reorient to that, so that I stop putting ineffectual claw marks on the things that's a goner at the expense of attending to what can still be saved.
So, "Hm. I notice that I don't want to see what's in this email, because I already suspect it will be what I don't want to see. Okay, what don't I want to see. Okay, yeah, I don't want to see that. Of course I don't want to see that. What if I do see that? What might I want to do about that"?
Maybe, "Why does it seem like whatever I do, people will get pissed at me?". "Is that actually true?". "If not, what kind of unseen-stupid am I being to systematically fail like this?". "If so, is that okay?".
The exact sequence and form might change, but the underlying theme is to be really attentive to what feedback I'm getting and where I might be flinching away from updating on this feedback, because all of this struggle results from failing to attend to something with the attention it deserves. The model I'm comparing to, to highlight sources of error, is one where my expectations aren't predictably violated, there's no innate tension underlying everything as a result, and any tension gets released by retreating from obstinate control towards more nuanced and obtainable goals after grieving what must be grieved -- and not what must not.
i generally love your posts, but i feel like this one is just a repeat of ugh fields? with more relatable examples.
Yeah, that's basically fair. I do actually stand by rewriting old posts or ideas.
If I'm going to zoom in at the distinction, it's in this line.
Spiders, then, are the source of ugh fields.
The ugh field is this wide, ambient miasma around an area. The spider is the specific sharp prickly bit that is the source of the negative feedback. Some ugh fields are actually full of spiders everywhere. Some just have one or two spiders in a small area, but the spiders exert their influence over a wide zone.
But like, if you've got the one idea you plausibly don't need the other.
I think the essay is about believing correct things and dealing with the consequence. The first step is unnecessary and often harmful.
Anyway, some personal reaction first. It feels ironic to me reading this as someone with OCD, whose compulsions center around checking behavior. I'm reading this like, wait, you don't check for spiders? Everywhere, constantly, hundreds of times per day, including in situations where you have literally no stake in whether there's a spider? OCD sufferers suffer most when trying to manage their intrusive thoughts (everyone has them, OCD people desperately and futilely try to get rid of them) so I recognized the prayer pretty quickly as a "bad idea," although still intrigued by its spiritual dimension (it's like the serenity prayer minus the courage part?)
I think this forms a pretty serious objection to the nurse story. Firstly there's the standard problems with futarchy -- she's using the market to effect the result, which has problems and perverse incentives. On topic to this essay, it's just not clear the nurse is using any "checking" pattern that helps her do her job. I'd wager real nurses would say something like "I try not to focus on that information and just do my job."
Belief is a physical act with a physical cost. That poem and the essay are entirely about marrying rational belief with physical belief, and doing so takes actual calories. Once we talk about physical belief, these facts arise that are not true for rational belief:
The essay's conclusion is much more compliant with this than the opening -- it's advice on how to pass the marshmallow test. The conclusion embraces "distraction" strategies. The "chocolate" strategy may work as a distraction, but fail as a ritual ("I can't check my email until I go buy a chocolate bar.")
But to my first point: why not distract from anxiety before formulating a belief, instead of formulate a belief then distract from that belief.
Practically: you can also weaken your belief if you want. One way to do this is to list 5 reasons something may be true and may be false. This will often weaken your prior -- and it probably should because opening bids are often overconfident -- and some of your "false" column won't quite invalidate the thing but will point out other things you should think about instead.
Unrelated to the main point, but - where is this second Merrin story found? I really liked the first one, but didn't know there was a second one, and glowfic authors tend to have a lot of story threads.
There are actually quite a few more, though most of them feature her being isekaied elsewhere; https://glowfic.com/characters/12823?view=posts should show you ~all of them.
This essay contains an examination of handling information which is unpleasant to learn. Also, more references to spiders than most people want.
CW: Pictures of spiders.
I. Litanies and Aspirations
If the box contains a diamond,
I desire to believe that the box contains a diamond;
If the box does not contain a diamond,
I desire to believe that the box does not contain a diamond;
Let me not become attached to beliefs I may not want.
-Litany of Tarski
I read these words when I was around eighteen. They left a strong impression on me. While it's not frequent that I do so aloud, sometimes I respond to learning things have gone wrong by muttering them quietly. I've used them as words of comfort when people are anxiously awaiting important news.
The litany of Tarski is aspirational for me. It isn't always literally true.
If my mother's biopsy contains breast cancer, I really want the biopsy to contain no breast cancer. I am attached to that belief. Of course, the exact text of Tarski's litany is "I desire to believe that the box contains a diamond" not "I desire that the box contained a diamond."
I still try to be the kind of person who hears the positive test result, breathes in, breathes out, and instead of denying it asks what I can do to help.
II. You've Got
MailSpidersOnce upon a time I got called up to assist with handling an interpersonal conflict where many people were mad. I saw a message in my inbox asking a question, and I answered it, and then I got complained about. Sure, comes with the territory. Another message came in, with another question, which I answered, and got complained about. A third message, which I responded to with a question, and then someone called me up and complained at me.
I like learning things. I learned how to play Halo by sitting down with a professional Halo player and losing deathmatches all summer. I taught myself to juggle by standing in a park and dropping balls for six hours. Urist McDeity help me, I learned how to play Dwarf Fortress without a wiki. The way I learn things is to try and do them, paying close attention to whether it works, and changing what I’m doing until it works.
This proved to be a surprisingly bad idea when trying to help handle a conflict, because every single move I made got somebody mad at me.
"You can't live life without anyone getting mad at you," you might say, "and trying is a bad idea." If you're feeling a bit stronger or you happen to be a blunter person, you might add "If you want everyone to like you, you shouldn't be trying to do conflict management. Being conflict averse is bad for that."
Fair points! But I'd like to make counterspiders. I mean counterarguments.
First, I don't think I was being conflict averse. I accepted a role I knew would involve people being mad at me, since this rough genre of problem was the thing that caused my predecessor to quit. I spent easily a dozen hours a year politely trying to advise, deescalate, and make good decisions while people did things like yell "What the fuck?!?" at me or cried into a camera on a videocall.
Second, I think there's a very narrow band of emotional and mental states that can both be empathetic and step back into conflict. Imagine someone who doesn't have any negative reaction to the negative emotions of others or even genuinely enjoys them, feeling warm and happy when people rage or weep. Is that person going to deescalate arguments, or escalate them? The opposite of "conflict averse" is "conflict prone" and someone who is conflict prone seems unsuitable as a community health contact. I would have taken much less negative reinforcement if I'd stopped trying to connect with people or empathize with them.
Aversion is a dislike or disinclination, and to the extent I'm conflict averse I think it was learned, not innate. Because I was paying such close attention to how my thoughts were tracking, I noticed I was predicting everything I’d try would get someone mad at me. I tried one thing after another, exploring the terrain and asking for advice and trying clever ideas and being careful.
It didn't help; every attempt brought a new round of criticism and complaint. I noticed I felt a mental flinch when I went to open emails from participants, then a flinch when I went to open my inbox at all, and eventually a flinch when I went towards my desk in the first place. I eventually spotted myself with that mental flinch when I thought about trying to fix the mental flinch, which is a special kind of problem.
Because I'm the kind of persistent oddball who learned to stitch by pricking my fingers again and again until I stopped making those mistakes, and because I was able to notice the flinch, this didn't totally stop me. But I have to admit it did slow me down, and the longer things went on, the stronger my tendency to open those emails last whenever I had a full inbox.
I found it hard to describe. And then I came across a wonderful description.
III. Merrin and the Spider
Merrin is a fictional character, written by Swimmer963. She's a medical professional from a fictional society that makes heavy use of prediction markets, to the extent that nurses consult markets on individual patient outcomes. If you've never heard of a prediction market before, you can basically treat them as prognosis estimates and not worry about it.
In this particular chapter, Merrin's just done a lot of hard work trying to stabilize a patient that came into the emergency room after falling in a frozen river. Merrin's done everything she possibly could, and brought a patient who would never wake up again into a place where it's possible they might be revived. Now she's about to look at the market. It'll have a percentage chance of the patient surviving. Merrin wants it to be high, like 95%. If it was low like 1%, that would mean despite all her work the patient will almost certainly die.
12%!
When I read this bit I laughed aloud. I know exactly the kind of emotion that's happening here. It's like when you think there might be a spider under the toilet seat, but you don't want there to be a spider under the toilet seat, so you leeeeeeean back and squint a little and lift the seat with a stick and kinda look sideways in case there's a spider but you're trying to spot it out of the corner of your eye but spiders are small so you might not see one but hey, you're not exactly looking for a spider really, there's probably no spiders in this toilet, you're just, uh, well, look nevermind. Exactly the mistake the Litany of Tarski is trying to warn us about, and yet there's the instinct!
Squinting nervously at something in a way that makes you see it less clearly, or delaying looking at something in a way where you get the information late for no good reason, are both falling short of Tarski's admonitions.
12% means the patient is doing so badly they have basically a one in ten chance of surviving. Merrin was hard at work with a fuzzy gut sense of how well things were going, and then she checked a better source of information and got walloped with an emotional downturn.
The story continues, and despite Merrin's efforts the patient is getting worse. They're undergoing a special kind of medical operation - think sci-fi surgery, that will be close enough - and there's nothing else she can do. She's carried the patient out of the first emergency response phase, and now specialists are performing the operation. Merrin could go home, maybe should go home, since she's been working for hours under conditions where someone's life hangs in the balance, but she can't bring herself to leave.
Instead of going home, she's hanging around in the observation room kind-of-sort-of checking the prediction market odds.
Yeah Merrin, I've been there. Sometimes you brace yourself for bad information just like leaning back from the seat worrying about a spider. And then there's actually a spider, and that just makes you more sure spiders are out there. You want to look, and to see there's no danger and the patient is going to live. And yet you might look and instead find out that the patient is worse.
In a later chapter, there's a different story about a totally different patient Merrin's working with. This one also nearly drowned, though the water wasn't as cold and they weren't submerged for quite as long. Merrin's just managed to bring this patient, Kalorm, up and out of the first emergency phase, when Kalorm's father visits the hospital room only to start interrogating Merrin over her technique. When he leaves, Merrin is upset.
It doesn't help that the hospital is about to try the same procedure on Kalorm that they tried on Merrin's earlier patient.
"Spiders" has become a shorthand in Merrin stories for medical information that is bad and makes Merrin feel bad. Last time she tried this procedure, it didn't work and the patient died, so she has a horrible association with observing whether what she's doing is working. Much like I was shy about looking to see if there was a spider under the outhouse lid, Merrin is anxious about checking the prediction market odds on whether Kalorm will get better.
She notices this mental flinch, and takes care not to let it stop her.
Now is a good time to mention that I really like the character of Merrin. She's one of my favourite new characters I've run into in recent years. There's an unusual combination of persistence, heart, and juuust enough cleverness to make her way in a world of people smarter and more aggressive or ambitious than she is. I love reading about her fondness for her special interest of medicine and her willingness to care deeply for people she's only just met, while still keeping herself focused on the challenging tasks she's trying to do for them and their loved ones. Merrin is great.
And like many great characters, you can learn something from her.
Notice when you're flinching away from a thought, and think it anyway.
Spiders, then, are the source of ugh fields.
When I shared this essay with an acquaintance of mine, she shared the following story: (Not a Merrin story.)
Be brave. Remember Tarski and Gendlin. Look your spiders in the eyes- all eight of their beady, glittering, predatory eyes.
IV. Do you desire to believe there is a spider in this essay?
So what do you do about the growing aversion to information which is unpleasant to learn? This list is incomplete, and I appreciate your help by expanding it.
You can fight negative reinforcement with positive reinforcement. Take a tiny bite of chocolate as you're opening up that email. Read it while petting your cat.
You can distance yourself from the learning experience. Remember, my theory is sometimes the aversion is learned, which means deliberately being bad at learning helps. Separate the action from the feedback by as much as you can, like writing a tiny script to pull the email in ten minutes before piping its contents to the printer, and read that on a walk.
You can put a name to what you're experiencing. "I am anxious about what this email might contain." "I am scared of what the doctor will say about the cancer scan." If you can, try and inculcate different emotional responses, like "I'm curious how cancer scans work" or "I wonder what fresh complaints these jokers have for me today."
You can ground yourself by observing and experiencing parts of the world around you. Touch grass. Or maybe turf. Touch turf, it has hardly any spiders at all. Look around the room and count one thing that's round, two things that make sound, three things you could jump over in a bound. Hum a little and feel the vibration in your throat, hear it in your ears.
You can take pride and focus your learning in other ways, redefining success and failure. Practice memorization techniques on relevant parts of messages or in the medical details of the diagnosis, taking joy in success in memorization.
But one of the best defenses I've found so far — one with surprising amounts of power- is to mutter to myself "metaphorical even bigger spiders Merrin" and laugh and do it anyway.
Thanks Swimmer963.