Experimental Psychology

 

 

 

Cornelia Fine has a degree in experimental psychology from Oxford University, an MPhil in criminology from Cambridge University, and a PhD in psychology from University College London. Fine references a lot of experimental psychology studies in her book and I'd like to take a look at what that means.

 

Experimental psychology use scientfic methods to research behavior. Experimental psychologists may do research on cognitive processes, animal behavior, neuroscience or personality along with many other subject fields.

 

It's more of a method of psychology than its own separate branch or field. Just like any other science, there are a lot of opportunities for bias, but as shown through Fine's book, the studies are often thought-provoking at the least. 

 

The Pigheaded Brain

Loyalty a step too far

 

"The brain evades, twists, discounts misinterprets, even makes up evidence—all so that we can retain that satisfying sense of being in the right." This chapter talks about how attached we are to our beliefs. Whether they are beliefs that we've held for decades to opinions formed in a few seconds, it really doesn't matter.


This chapter is linked closely with chapter one which was about the vain brain. The brain not only doesn't like to be proved wrong but also likes to stick with what it already believes. Fine shows this with two examples. First she mentions when someone hypothesized that the world was round and not flat, no one believed it for a long time. Then she talks about when scientist Alice Stewart hypothesized that prenatal x-rays were linked to prenatal cancer. In 1977, no obstetrician believed the scientist's theories at all. They even thought that Alice Stewart's work was based on babies that he somehow knew would get cancer. This example showed that even scientists and doctors are susceptible to the same brain tricks that are played on everyone else.


Fine provides lots of other experimental psychology studies, articles, and quirky anecdotes in this chapter leaving the reader to wonder how in control she is of her own brain. 

Living with a 'borrowed brain' by Lindsay Corley

*The article has been reproduced below for your convenience

Imagine waking up one morning to find you can't remember the most simple of tasks -- things like brushing your teeth, combing your hair or even feeding the dog are suddenly major obstacles.

For a year, this has been my life. I have been in recovery from a significant concussion. I am not in the NFL nor do I play contact sports. I am 28, and on February 19, 2012, I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

A Kentucky state trooper later said it was the fastest snowstorm she had ever seen hit the area as whiteout conditions from a freak blizzard rendered roads treacherous within minutes.

I was traveling on a highway in the Blue Ridge Mountains when my car hit a patch of black ice, skidded across three lanes of traffic and crashed into a median. I walked away from the accident thankful -- thinking I was fine. But a week later, the real injuries crept in.

I was nauseous. I couldn't sleep. My mind felt foggy; every sound hurt, and every ray of light pierced my eyesight.

A friend encouraged me to go to the doctor because she suspected I had a concussion. I mistakenly thought concussions only happened to people who lose consciousness.

When I was finally diagnosed, I resisted my doctor's order to rest my brain. I felt it would get better if I could push through the pain.

I was wrong. I couldn't even follow conversations -- I would just blurt out comments that I never meant to speak aloud. I was living with a brain on delay.

At first my only reprieve was music. I had always enjoyed music, but now it was a concrete, tangible object. For hours, I would just lie in bed and listen. I couldn't stand rock music anymore; it felt like nails on a chalkboard. But the jazz melodies of Billie Holiday and the lush symphonies of Beethoven were like a visceral experience for me. It felt like I was really hearing music for the first time.

And yet I will never forget that feeling of utter devastation as I gazed into my computer screen. I was a journalist, a graduate student, and a writer, but I could not read a basic declarative sentence. The words just didn't make sense to me. My brain wanted to read in the direction up to down instead of left to right.

Overnight, my life became a series of doctor's appointments, therapies and medical procedures. Most concussions heal within a month of the injury, but mine didn't. Even worse, my doctors had few answers as to why. Dr. Wendy Wright, a neurologist who has not been involved in my care, said the medical field is still evolving in treating mild traumatic brain injuries such as concussions. She said they often do not show up on standard medical tests such as MRIs.

As each day passed and I didn't get better, a fear began to grow. How would I take care of myself? What would my future look like? I feared asking for help, being a burden to others and failing to meet expectations. I hated how this "borrowed" brain made me feel -- weak, dependent and vulnerable.

My sense of balance and coordination were lost. Things that had been second nature were now challenging tasks. Friends had to help me with everything -- from driving to typing e-mails to cleaning my room. My roommate put a rule in place that I couldn't cook while she was gone because I couldn't be trusted to remember to turn off the stove.

Life is fragile. A single moment can change your life in ways you never imagined. So much of my identity was wrapped up in my ability to perform. My brain injury forced me to ask the question -- who am I, if not for my capacity to succeed?

We live in a society that values doing, but I had to learn to find peace in being. I was only able to finish graduate school on time because of friends who volunteered to type my term papers as I verbally relayed the information. At work, I completed tasks with the help of co-workers.

I have come an incredibly long way. Doctors say I am now at 85%, yet each day I am also confronted with a sense of loss. It turns out this borrowed brain is actually my new one. My doctors do not know how much more I will recover. I live with chronic migraines, and some tasks, such as reading books or focusing on conversations, are still extremely difficult.

I am undergoing neuropsychological testing, which gives a more complete picture of brain functions such as memory and attention. Yet without a picture of how I was before my accident, doctors may not be able to create a clear picture of how I have been affected.

Overcoming a concussion is like waking up from a dream. The person I was before the accident is gone, and I am still trying to settle into my new identity. This fall, I hope to begin a residency as a hospital chaplain. My injury has given me a deeper sense of compassion, especially for people in pain.

Though I cannot say it has been an easy journey, I can say this with all certainty: This past year I have been given the gift of perspective, and for that I am thankful.

While A Mind of Its Own sparks you to look down own our brains in some ways, it still portrays it as the smartest, most important organ in your body. This article, from CNN, details the life of a woman that had the luxury of a perfectly working brain was taken away from her.

The simple suggestion of not being able to listen to music, cook, or (gasp) read, ignites fear into my mind. I suffered these side effects on a milder scale when I was in middle school. I got extreme migraines on a regular basis that made me sick to my stomach. Anything could trigger these painful headaches: a loud noise, bright light, a strong smell, or being pushed too hard in the hallways. The only thing that helped me was taking eight Ibuprofen and lying in a silent, dark room until I fell asleep.

After surgery to correct my scoliosis did the headaches finally disappear. Having been bedridden for a month, and in recovery for three more after that, I appreciate my physically able body more than the average person might, but I never have given my now fully functioning brain into such consideration.

I am sincerely grateful that Corley has recovered so well and her outlook on the situation is moving.

A Mind of Its Own by Cornelia Fine

 

 

a mind of its own

 

Cordelia Fine is an Australian academic psychologist and also the author of this book. She wrote the first part of the book in nine months. The manuscript was due three days before she went into labor.

Cordelia has studied both Psychology and Criminology—two fields that I'm interested in.

 

A Mind of Its Own explains the complexities of the brain with scientific studies and backs it up with witty commentary and anecdotes. The book is divided into eight chapters and I have read the first four so far.

 

The book portrays your very own brain like a backstabbing best friend. She has eight entirely unflattering traits, yet you need her for everything. Without her, you literally could not live. Each of the chapters go in depth into the negative aspects of your brain, but also explains why these negative traits are necessary to your mental health.

 

It is very interesting to read since I have to think about why my brain thinks the way it does with my own brain. It could easily be rearranging the information as I read it to protect my mental health.

 



Chapter One: The Vain Brain
for a softer, kinder reality
The first chapter explains how much your brain lies to you. It convinces you that you are better than you really are. It "embellishes, enhances, and aggrandizes you," not to mention "excuses your faults anf failures," and "misguidedly thinks you invincible, invulnerable, and omnipotent." While this seems horrible, one goes on to read that this trait also keeps you alive. The vain brain gives you that little bit of deluded optimism so your immune system doesn't wonder whether "it's worth the effort of keeping you alive."

Chapter Two: The Emotional Brain
sweaty fingers in all the pies
This chapter talks about how we think that we control our emotions, but in actuality, our emotions control us. Moods influence our judgement on just about everything from relationship conflicts to racial minorities. It also talks about the Cotard delusion where patients are "so detached from their feelings, thoughts, body, and the world that nothing can persuade them that they are alive." It was really fascinating to read about.

Chapter Three: The Immoral Brain
the terrible toddler within
This chapter talks about how the brain forms morals. Often judgments stem from "instant gut feelings or moral intuitions." Your brain passes judgement on an entire situation in just a few seconds. It also puts ourselves in a more morally sound light, with benefit of the doubt, while passing harsher judgements on the moral faults of others.

Chapter Four: The Deluded Brain
a slapdash approach to the truth
This chapter questions the difference between the sane and the insane. It simplifies insanity down to having a delusion. Perfectly sane people have delusions too, though. We believe in ghosts and aliens and talking to the dead. It also showed some studies where both the sane and the insane performed about the same in cognitive tests, which was very trying to the vain brain.