Hidden Brain - What Would Socrates Do?
Episode Date: December 25, 2023Humans have wrestled with questions about identity and purpose for millennia. So it’s no surprise that the insights of people who lived hundreds or even thousands of years ago have stood the test of... time. This week, philosopher Tamar Gendler explores how three great thinkers from ancient Greece understood the human psyche, and what we can still learn from their wisdom today.If you know someone who would enjoy this episode, please share it with them. And thanks for listening! We look forward to bringing you many new Hidden Brain episodes in 2024.Â
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This is Hidden Brain, I'm Shankar Vedanta.
How should we live?
What will make us happy?
How can each of us become the person we want to be?
In our modern world, there are all kinds of people
eager to provide us with answers to these questions.
Mental health gurus, self-help authors, social media influencers,
even the researchers we feature on the show.
But there is an important mistake we make when we seek out such counselors.
We usually look to sources of wisdom that are around us.
We assume the most valuable answers to our questions must come from people who happen to inhabit the planet at the same time that we do.
habit the planet at the same time that we do. But humans have wrestled with the same questions about relationships, purpose and identity for
thousands of years.
Wouldn't the wisest people who lived centuries ago have useful things to say about our modern
dilemmas?
This week on Hidden Brain and in a companion piece on our subscription feed Hidden Brain
Plus, we explore the insights of five great thinkers from ancient Greece.
Decades of research reveal that our actions don't always match our intentions.
We plan to reach out to a friend who's sick or we resolve to start a new exercise program.
And then we don't.
Be fatdled and surprised, we try again.
And fall short again.
Psychologists have come up with a number of explanations for this gap between our intentions
and our actions and what we can do to close it.
At Yale University, the philosopher Tamar Gendler says questions like this also animated
a thinker in ancient Greece.
The highest wisdom and our greatest challenge, he argued, is to know ourselves.
Tamar Gendler, welcome to Hidden Brain.
Thank you so much, I'm delighted to be here.
So Tomar, Socrates famously said that the unexamined life
is not worth living.
Can you set the stage for me by describing who this man was
and how he came to wrestle with some of the same questions
that we wrestle with today?
Socrates lived about 2, hundred years ago in ancient Athens and he was kind of like a
provocative podcaster. He hung out in what was the most technologically advanced location of the
time. That is, he hung out in a place called the Agora, which was the public square.
And as people passed him by, he asked them questions that caused them to examine their fundamental beliefs.
And eventually, he developed a following of some of the young men of Athens,
who were associated with the most powerful families.
And he spoke to those young men and he asked them to think in a very
fundamental way about which of the values that they had been taught
were values to which they were reflectively committed and
which of them were just coincidental features of their society.
That is, really, were the things that they had been taught are just, just.
Were the things that they had been taught are pious, pious.
Were the things that they had been taught about the God's true?
And were the families of these kids excited that they were learning from this wise man or
were they horrified.
The families of these children, remember, are the individuals who are in the primary power
structure of Athens, for whom belief in tradition is crucial for sustaining their regime. So they are in fact extraordinarily upset by what Socrates is doing to their kids.
So upset that they actually put him on trial with the accusation that he has violated the laws of
the city by corrupting the youth. And ultimately, Socrates is actually convicted by an
Athenian jury of having corrupted the youth, is given the penalty of death by the drinking
of poison, and makes his final lesson for his students by obeying the laws of the city
and taking his life in accord with the city's mandate
that he'd be punished by death for corruption of the youth.
So he really was committed to the deep truth
of what he aimed to teach
so much so that he was willing to give his life for it.
Did Socrates or any of his students question the justice of the sentence that was handed down to him?
Absolutely. And there's an extraordinarily moving story of Socrates' students trying to persuade
him to resist this death sentence, and of Socrates' responding that he needs to exceed to
the laws of the city in which he has been nurtured and grown. So, during the trial of Socrates, one of his students visits the oracle at Delphi, and
the student has a question for the oracle.
What is the question to him?
The student visits the oracle at Delphi, which is a mystical place where truth is available
and asks the oracle, who is the wisest of all men?
And the oracle answers in a very perplexing way.
The oracle says, no man is wiser than Socrates.
So the student comes back from the oracle to bear this news to Socrates and Socrates says,
how could it be that I am considered the wisest of all men?
For I know nothing and recognize that I know nothing,
whereas others who also know nothing falsely think that they know.
Now, Socrates was a pretty smart guy and he must have known he was a pretty smart guy.
So it's he being falsely modest here.
I mean, what aspect of the world is Socrates not know about that he says that I know nothing?
What is he referring to here tomorrow?
Even if Socrates is being falsely modest when he says, I know that I know nothing,
he is also saying knowing the limits of your knowledge is essential to understanding the
limits of human understanding. One of the really crucial things that Socrates recognizes is that he has neither a full understanding
of the world outside of him, nor does he have a full understanding of the world inside
of him, a full understanding of his own thoughts and motivations.
So partly what he's describing here is not just a description of his own state of knowledge,
but about the difficulty of acquiring that knowledge, the fact that when he looks inside,
he in fact is not completely aware of his own motivations and drives.
I would say it is both a factual descriptive claim and a more profound claim about the nature of knowledge.
So an important thing to understand about the picture of the world that Socrates holds
is that human beings themselves are subject not only to the general constraint that as imperfect concrete earthly beings, we can't
know anything fully true and fully good. But in addition, human beings are particularly complicated
objects for human beings to understand. So the suggestion is not just that he discovers
that he doesn't know his motivations
and he doesn't know all the internal features of himself.
It's that in addition, he has a proof,
a reason to think that that is impossible.
You know, I feel that there are literally hundreds
of modern psychological experiments
that back up this idea tomorrow.
Political partisans seem to have no awareness that their loyalty, shape, what they hear
and how they think.
Biasis, pervert how we think about race or gender, but we are not always aware that we have
these biases.
And in our relationships, people fall into unconscious patterns of behavior in ways that
are really damaging to those relationships.
I mean, all of these examples and the context might be very different from ancient Greece,
but Socrates was interested in some of the same underlying questions here.
In my classes, I often juxtapose this secratic tradition with the big question of social psychology
of the 20th century, and in many ways of the 21st century as well,
which is a scientific demonstration of the dissociation
between apparent motivation and actual explanation
of a particular kind of behavior.
Over and over and over again, the lesson of contemporary social psychology is that we are opaque to ourselves with regard to why it is we are doing or experiencing what we are doing or
experiencing.
In her work, Tamara draws connections not only between ancient philosophers and
modern social scientists, but themes that have animated writers for many centuries.
For example, she cites the novel Anna Karenina
by the Russian author Leo Tolstoy.
Which is a book about the ways in which characters don't realize
that their perception of the world
is shaped through their individual mood.
There's a beautiful moment where a character named Levin
has fallen in love with a young woman named Kitty,
and he walks around the world and he can only recognize how beautiful the world is.
And he takes it to be a fact about the world that the world is beautiful.
There's a subsequent scene where the main character Anna is dismayed about a fact in her
life, and she walks around the world and she perceives the world as being filled with
individuals who are ugly and mean.
This is not unique to Anna Karenina.
Every single novel is about the ways in which characters fail to recognize their own motivations.
And so I would say those are three examples, the stochratic example, the example of literature
and the sociological example of 20th century empirical psychology,
all of which are exploring in incredibly rich ways. The fact that human beings do not know themselves.
So you suggest that we can try and derive self-knowledge
by engaging in the kind of socratic dialogue
that Socrates himself engaged in with his students.
How would that work tomorrow?
Socrates basically is willing to ask why repeatedly.
So an inner-circadic dialogue involves being ready to reflect
at any moment, why do I think that on what evidence is my judgment based for what reason am I pursuing
this action?
So in many ways, what Socrates is asking us to do is to engage in a process of inner reflection. At any moment, being ready with fully open
mind to ask ourselves why we think, what we think, or why we are doing, what we are doing.
So in other words, am I really in love with this person? Am I really happier when I make
lots of money? Am I just absorbing what the culture is telling me,, am I really in love with this person? Am I really happier when I make lots of money?
Am I just absorbing what the culture is telling me?
Or do I really believe this?
So those are big questions, and you could certainly apply
the Socratic technique to that.
But you could use it, why did I open the fridge?
Am I bored?
Am I hungry?
Am I low on electrolytes?
You could ask the question, why did I pick up electrolytes? You could ask the question, why did I pick up my phone?
You could ask the question, why am I feeling irritated right now?
Are my socks wet?
Or is the world full of injustice to which I am appropriately sensitive?
So yes, you want to ask questions, do I really want to make money?
And you also want to ask questions like, why did I open the fridge?
Socrates taught us that self-knowledge is the foundation for human flourishing, but
one of his students pointed out a complication.
We don't just have one self inside ourselves, we have many.
You're listening to Hidden Brain, I'm Shankar Vedanta.
This is Hidden Brain, I'm Shankar Vedanta.
Philosopher Tamar Gendler has spent decades studying ancient philosophers like Socrates,
who emphasized the importance of knowing oneself.
Socrates had a very smart student named Plato.
He pointed out, there isn't one singular self for us to get to know.
In fact, we have many selves inside us.
Tamar, I understand that you have personally experienced the reality of a divided self
when it comes to the subject of shoes.
Tell me more.
I am somebody who is a great appreciator of the capacity to bring joy and beauty to one's
life through self ornamentation, particularly with regard to the adornment of one's feet.
That is a fancy way of saying, I love buying used designer shoes on the internet.
I am, however, not always able to tell whether a shoe will fit me.
And consequently, a certain portion of the time, I need to return those shoes.
One of the things that stuns me is right now, in the back of my car, is a box of shoes to be returned, which have been there with the label taped to them
for the last two weeks.
I have been unable to bring myself to mail these shoes back.
Yeah.
So, is this divided self,
the divided self that says,
I need to do something,
but I don't have the time or willingness or motivation to do it.
Or is this divided self an example of,
I think I should return these shoes,
but there's another part of me that says,
I want to keep these shoes.
In this particular case,
it is all of me rationally
that thinks I want to return these shoes.
And then part of me that engages in what my friend,
Laurie Santos, has taught me to understand as a bliger rebellion,
that is, it is fun not to do a thing that I am supposed to be doing.
The shoes don't fit.
I need to return them by a certain deadline.
If I return them, the money that I spent on them will be refunded to me in such a way
that I can buy shoes or use it in some much more useful way. But within me, in addition
to the fully endorsed desire to return those shoes, there is a certain amount of pleasure that attaches to simply not doing.
What I reflectively know is the right thing for me to do.
I'm wondering if there are other dimensions of your life tomorrow, where you again feel
like you have these two cells inside you that are at war with each other? At almost every moment, all of us have multiple sides of ourselves that are at war with each
other.
When I am exercising in the gym, there's a part of me that thinks, keep going forward,
and a part of me that thinks, I'm exhausted, I'm just going to sit down, I don't feel
like working any harder.
When I need to get somewhere at a particular time,
there's a part of me that knows
if I need to be somewhere by one o'clock,
then presumably I need to leave where I am
sometime before one o'clock.
But that's also a part of me
that has this incoherent fantasy
that I can leave the place where
I am at one and be at the place where I'm going at one.
You know Freud has this wonderful description that all of us have a part of ourselves that
is infantile and inconsistent.
Where we want things that are mutually inconsistent or we believe things that are mutually inconsistent, that is just deeply true of all of us and
that part of ourselves just never goes away. And that's the part of you that
thinks you can have your cake and eat it too, that things that are actually
reflectively impossible could just happen.
So Plato was one of the ancients
who started to think about the phenomenon of the divide itself.
What was his story, Tamara?
So Plato was a philosopher who lived in ancient Greece,
also about 2,500 years ago.
He was a student of Socrates,
and Plato was responsible for writing down a large set of philosophical
dialogues that explored almost any question that was available at the time when he lived. What's the nature of justice?
What's the nature of truth?
What is the nature of the divine?
How should a society be structured?
What should education look like?
What is it to wage war?
For any of the big questions about the individual or society,
Plato wrote what is basically a play,
where the main character was his teacher Socrates, and Socrates would engage in conversations
about these questions with various imaginary and real young men. So Plato observes that we not only have multiple selves,
but that these cells are often set against each other,
that we are a house divided.
Plato tells a story that's basically my story
of not returning the shoes,
or the story of somebody who is rubber-necking
on the highway when they pass an accident.
So the story that Plato tells is that there's a man,
his name happens to be Leontius, and he's walking back to the city of Athens, and he notices along
the wall of the city a dead man lying on the ground in a really gross way. And Leontius struggles
with himself in the way that you might, if you were driving
past a car accident, and Leontius says to himself, don't look at that, that's disgusting.
What are you doing? And then Leontius turns his face towards the dead body, holds his
eyes open, and says, take a look at that beautiful sight you load some creatures.
That is, he gives into his temptation.
And you might imagine a similar story, which is opening the refrigerator and saying to yourself,
I'm not going to eat the cake.
I'm not going to eat the cake and then just giving into your temptation.
So Plato tells this story of Laontius, which is the story of
eating the cake in the fridge, which is the story of rubber necking, which is the
story of me not returning the shoes. In order to establish a picture that he has
of what human beings are like, and the picture that he ends up introducing is
that he says the human soul is, and by
soul he just means the human mind.
So the human soul says Plato in the translation that's most common, is composed of three parts.
There's a part that he calls reason, there's a part that he calls spirit, and there's a part that he calls appetite.
And how do these three relate to one another tomorrow?
So the part of the soul that he calls reason, played a likeness to the driver of a chariot.
And that's the part of you that's rational and easily available to
introspection. Reason is the stories that you tell yourself and the parts of
yourself that are in keeping with your reflective commitments. But says Plato, Reason is only a small part of the human being.
Reason is driving a chariot that is pulled by two horses,
and he calls those horses Spirit and Apatite.
The horse that he calls Spirit is responsive to social norms and social approval.
That is, the spirited part of yourself is worried about things like
FOMO and what people think of you and what it's like to be in love and admired
and all of the things that we care about in our social interactions.
And the third part of yourself, what Plato calls the Apetitive Horse, is basically concerned with the parts of you
that you share with non-human animals. Basically, the things that are
required for survival and procreation, that is food and sex.
So says Plato, think of yourself as having three parts,
a part that you share with non-human animals
that's full of appetites, four things like procreation
and consumption, a part of you that's concerned with social standing
and affection and human connection,
and then a very small part of you that's supposed to be in charge,
which is the part of you that is distinctly human
and capable of reason and reflection.
It's fascinating, Tamara, as you're talking here, I'm again hearing echoes of the work
of Sigmund Freud.
Indeed, there are echoes of Plato's picture in every world wisdom tradition.
So Sigmund Freud distinguishes three parts of the human being, which he calls the ego, the super ego, and the id.
It doesn't exactly align with Plato's picture.
Freud's id is very much aligned with what Plato thinks
is the part of the soul that is filled with appetite.
But some of what Plato would call the spirited part of the soul might fit into Freud's
id. Freud's super ego is the part that roughly corresponds to Plato's reason. And the ego in
Freud's picture is its own complicated self. But the idea that you can use some metaphoric description
to make sense of human beings and their inner life
is universal.
In the Buddhist tradition,
in contrast to speaking of a charioteer and two horses,
it's traditional to speak about an elephant and a rider who sits atop the elephant and plays the role of the charioteer.
And we, of course, explored the ideas of Danny Kahneman, whose famous book Thinking Fast and Slow, also suggests that we are a house divided,
and in fact, we have these different modes of thinking inside our heads. So if you think about the dual processing tradition of which Dan
Economan and Amos Varsky are the most famous proponents, what you're getting
there is an exact echo of this Buddhist or Platonic picture. Here's the way to think about it. The rider on the Buddha's
elephant and the charioteer in Plato's metaphor is what Conminen Fersky would call System
2. That's the thinking slow part. And the elephant and Plato's horses and all of our drives and instincts are what
common in Fersky would call system one. That is the set of autonomous systems that operate
fast. The thinking fast part of ourselves are these horses who just run off in whatever direction they're used to.
And the thinking slow part of ourselves
is this poor charioteer who's trying to keep
the horses in line.
So when I'm not returning my shoes,
the horse, which just wants to run off
and do fun things and not go to the post office,
is just dashing off
in its system one kind of way. And then my little poor rider, which wants to return the
shoes, it isn't doing so because my charioteer isn't strong enough to control my horses.
That's the story of system one and system two. But notice, this is right there in almost identical metaphoric form in the
tradition of ancient Greece and in the tradition of ancient Buddhism.
I understand tomorrow that there are resonances here not just to in the works of, you know,
economists and psychologists, but also in the work of modern neuroscientists, looking
at how it is the brain comes to have these two different systems
inside our heads. Absolutely. So you might think of the idea of system two as being a way of identifying
behaviorally something that corresponds to the thought that takes place in the very front of our brain, in the prefrontal
cortex.
And you might think of system one as the amalgamation of the rest of the things in our
brain.
It is completely unsurprising that anybody who has thought about human experience over
the last 3,000 years has noticed that we are pulled in different directions,
given that our brains are accumulated
amalgamations of relatively independent systems,
each of which is designed to give us
particular information about the world.
So of course, we are pulled in different directions.
The Plato believed that the state of internal division was inevitable and
unchangeable? So Plato believed that human flourishing came about by getting
your parts aligned. What Plato wanted you to try to do was to train your social horse, that is what he calls
your spirited horse, and to train your appetite-driven horse so that they were inclined to follow the
commands of reason. Take the story of my returning the shoes or of Leontias rubber necking at the body at
the side of the wall of Athens.
Plato points out that I'm unhappy with myself when this happens.
Leontias is unhappy with himself when that happens.
We are in a state where our soul feels divided to us.
We feel pulled in different directions.
What Plato suggests is we are best off
when what it is that we want to do
and what it is that we're inclined to do coincide.
So that you're not fighting against the parts of yourself, you're just moving
together in the way that you do when you are doing something that comes naturally.
Socrates emphasized the importance of self-knowledge.
His student Plato highlighted the need to bring a conflicting inner selves into harmony. But how?
One of Plato's students had an idea about this,
an idea with many modern echoes.
You're listening to Hidden Brain, I'm Shankar Vedantam.
This is Hidden Brain, I'm Shankar Vedantam. At Yale University, philosopher Tamar Gendler has studied the work of ancient thinkers for
clues on how to handle our modern dilemmas.
One of these thinkers emphasized the importance of good habits.
Tamar, I understand that you had trouble with your balance, so you started working on
your balance to the point it has now become something of a habit.
You are correct.
I, as I entered the decade of life in which I currently find myself, one that starts
with the number of fingers that we have on a single hand. I discovered that my balance wasn't as good as it had been previously.
So I wanted to make sure that I spent a certain amount of time every day working on my balance.
And I had read a lot of the literature on habits and on the way in which when you want to
cultivate a new habit, you should chain it to an old habit. And the thing that I do most consistently for two minutes
every morning and two minutes every evening is to brush my teeth. I have an electric toothbrush
that does 30 seconds four times. So what I started to do was for each 30 seconds segment to stand on one foot while I brushed my teeth.
And this ended up having fabulous consequences.
One was that actually I practiced standing on one foot for four minutes a day, two minutes
on each foot while I was brushing my teeth.
But the second thing that happened is that it came to be a cue for me, that when
I am holding something in my hand, I should lift one of my feet and stay in balance. And
so I noticed that not only do I spend four minutes a day while I brush my teeth standing
on one foot in ways that have helped me with my balance.
But very often, if I pick up a pen or an umbrella or a small tote bag that I'm holding with
my hand, I will lift up one of my feet because it is an over-learned association between
holding something in my hand and lifting a foot.
Yeah, so it's interesting how these habits at some level, it's precisely because they are on thinking that they're so powerful.
One of the things that is extraordinary about the human brain
is that it kind of only has one trick,
which is follow the easiest pathway, right?
In some sense, our brain is like ChachyBT.
It's doing the most likely thing,
given the configuration of things that have happened before.
And so in some really literal sense,
the more you do something,
the more you are likely to do something.
Your brain's job is to minimize its energy expenditure.
And the way that it does that is by doing the thing that is relatively easiest, and the
thing that is relatively easiest is the thing that it has learned how to do before.
That is what it is to learn.
Well, of course, standing on one leg when you pick up a pen,
maybe your students will raise an eyebrow at you,
but it's perfectly harmless.
But you can imagine habits that can have slightly
bigger consequences if you're traveling overseas, for example,
and you're used to traffic being on one side of the road,
and the traffic in the city that you're in is now on the other side of the
road, that could have important consequences if you bring the same habits to bear.
I spent a bit of time in England last summer, and no matter how many times I said to myself,
they drive on the left.
I was repeatedly shocked as I crossed the street by the direction from which cars were
coming.
And had I tried to sit at the wheel of a vehicle, which of course would have been on the
wrong side of the car, I would have found it almost impossible to drive.
And one of the things that causes you to realize is how habitual your responses are.
So one of Plato's students was very interested in the power of habits.
Tell me the story of Aristotle.
So Plato had a student named Aristotle who was in some sense the first encyclopedist. He was the first person to write down everything
there was to know about the world around him. So Aristotle collected the constitutions from
every city state in the ancient Greek world. Aristotle did all sorts of scientific experiments in physics
and biology, collected zoological specimens, and Aristotle also thought about the entire
range of philosophical questions that had been raised by his teacher Plato and Plato's
teacher Socrates. And he wrote them down in various forms
and delivered them to students as lectures.
And his views about what it is to live a good life
have survived in an extraordinary volume
basically of lecture notes known as the Nikomekian ethics.
And in that book Aristotle describes
what it takes to be a flourishing human being
given all the facts that Aristotle knows.
How should human beings live?
So Aristotle sums up his view about virtue in a single line in this
great work. What does he say tomorrow? He says that virtue is acquired through habit
that just as one becomes a harvest by playing the harp, just as one becomes a harpist by playing the harp, just as one becomes a builder by practicing
the art of building, so too does one become brave by acting bravely, moderate by acting,
moderately, kind by acting kindly.
So in other words, if you want to become a particular kind of person, you practice being
that kind of person and that's the person you become.
Yeah, so what Aristotle is saying is practice, practice, practice, fake it till you make it, you are what you do.
You learn what you live.
Every poster that you've ever seen in a doctor's office,
that says, children learn what they live,
is an example of the Aristotelian lesson
that things that we do a lot
become things that we do a lot become things that we do naturally.
Somewhat more poetically, act as if you already were that which you wish to become.
I mean it almost sounds like a totology if we want to turn our beliefs into actions,
we need to turn our beliefs into actions, we need to turn our beliefs into actions.
It is totalogical if we were unified selves. But the reason that the suggestion is not
totalogical is because our actions are actually controlled by different aspects of ourselves.
And so what Aristotle is saying is,
if you want to turn your beliefs into actions,
use your beliefs to set up the world in such a way
that the actions you undertake accord with your beliefs.
So my belief was, my balance will be better if I
stand on one foot. I was completely aware that I couldn't think my way into having good balance.
I needed to do something with my body. So how did I turn that belief into action? I needed a trick
for using my belief system to cause my body to practice the thing that
it needed to practice.
And so the trick was to find a two-minute segment during which I would remember to do the
thing that I intended to do and that I would never reason not to do it.
And it would be a short enough amount of time that I would have the self-control to do it.
So it's not technological because you start by doing it self-consciously and you end up doing it
automatically. So in some ways what you're saying is that a habit is a sort of tool for turning the
things that we ought to do or that we want to do or we'd like to do into the things that we ought to do, or that we want to do, or we'd like to do,
into the things that we actually do do.
That's exactly right.
Habits are tools for turning aughts into isis.
But habits are indifferent between aughts and aughts.
So I made a very nice habit that I like,
which is that when I brush my teeth,
I stand on one foot.
But I also made a habit that I don't like very much,
which is when I see my phone with a number next
to any one of the little icons on it,
I push on that icon to see what has caused
that red circle with a number on it to appear.
And I do that even when, on reflection, I would rather be in a conversation with the person across the table from me.
So it's just as easy to build a habit to do something that you would like to be doing
as it is to build a habit to do something that you would not like to be doing.
Each is easy to acquire, each is hard to extend. So to go back to the metaphor of the the writer and
the two horses that Plato gave us, you said before that Aristotle's idea was that rather than instruct the writer, the idea here is to tame the horses.
Aristotle's idea is exactly that you need to tame the horses.
Imagine you're trying to tell your cat to stay off the couch.
You can't talk to your cat and say, I'm sorry, Tyroneus, whatever kind of name your cat has.
You are not permitted on the couch.
That doesn't work.
You need to tele-cat what to do
by associating certain kinds of actions
with certain kinds of consequences.
If you get on the couch, there will be a loud noise
that you don't like. Same with our inner
selves. I can draw a parabolic design to tell you where a ball is going to come if you throw it
towards my catchers' mitt. But talking to the charioteer that is drawing me a parabola is not helpful in training my hand to catch the ball and not
helpful in training my face to pull itself out of the line of fire as the ball is coming towards it.
So Aristotle's point is how do you train yourself to stand on one foot? You don't talk to your foot.
You stand on one foot. How do you train your cat to stay off the couch?
You don't talk to your cat, you make it unpleasant for your cat to be on the couch.
How do you train yourself to catch a ball?
You don't model the parabolic structure, you hold up your hand until it becomes instinctive.
Learning how to type, learning how to do anything routine and automatic, is
training Plato's horses.
Tamara, you say that for Aristotle, another key to forming virtuous habits was the practice
of moderation. What did he mean by this? So Aristotle thinks all virtues are moderate intermediates between two extremes.
Take the example of bravery. So to be brave is certainly not to be cowardly, but it's also
not to be reckless. It's to be brave at the right time in the right way.
Likewise, says Aristotle, to be generous is not to be selfish,
but it's also not to be extravagant.
To be generous is to give the right amount
at the right time in the right way.
Aristotle thinks this is true for every virtue.
So it's quite clear that with Socrates and Plato, they were echoes in modern psychology,
modern thinking, modern literature. What are the echoes and resonances you're seeing an Aristotle's work in modern psychological science, modern brain science.
The scientific insights that lie at the heart of the entire contemporary discussion of
habit are the scientific insights that lie at the heart of what Aristotle is saying.
That is what we practice is what we become. Notice that that's not just true
in the contemporary literature on habit, of which there are numerous examples. You cannot go to
an airport without being confronted with a set of books about habits, seven habits of highly effective people, various books that are going
to tell you how to get micro habits, macro habits. But if you think about a second meaning of the word
habit, it's a term that we use to describe the uniform that is worn by someone religious.
that is worn by someone religious. And you might think that one of the great insights
of religious traditions is to instill in us certain kinds of habits.
I was raised in the Jewish tradition, and one of the things that the Jewish
tradition wants to instill in people is a habit of expressing gratitude.
And so it is a rule in Judaism.
Whenever I am handed a piece of food, I recite a blessing that notes how it is that that
food comes into being.
That is, I need to stop for a minute and think, does it grow on a vine?
Does it grow from the tree?
Does it come from the earth?
How does this food come about?
And it becomes habitual that every act of eating is associated with an act of gratitude.
Medieval monasteries are structured in such a way that what you do is habitually built into
the rhythm of your life.
The practice of wearing a wristband that says, WWJD, is to create in you a habit.
At any moment where I'm trying to figure out what the right thing to do is, I should check
what would Jesus do.
And I would say virtually everything that I say
and do is shaped by my meta-awareness,
that the reasons that I seem to be doing something
may not be the reasons that I'm actually doing it,
that I am pulled in different directions, and that I do what I find easy.
So, every day I am presented with multiple opportunities to realign anything from a tiny habit?
Where I put my keys to a major habit.
How often do I talk to my kids on the phone
so that it is part of the rhythm of my life? What happens when despite our best efforts to build our lives right, things don't break
our way?
When we are victims of unfairness, illness or tragedy.
Turns out, the ancients struggled with these conundrums too.
In our companion piece to this episode, available exclusively to
subscribers to Hidden Brain Plus, Tamar Gendler explores what we should do when we are
confronted by Bad Luck, and also how we can change our luck.
If you are already a subscriber to Hidden Brain Plus, you can listen to that episode now.
It's titled, What Homer and Epic Teedis Can Teach Us Today.
If you haven't subscribed yet, you can check it out for free on a seven day trial.
To do so, go to apple.co-slash-hiddenbrain on your phone.
Again, that's apple.co-slash-hiddenbrain.
Your support helps us to build more episodes like this one and keeps the show thriving.
Tamar, thank you so much for joining me today on Hidden Brain.
Thank you.
Tomar Gendler is a philosopher at Yale University and the dean of the faculty of Arts and Sciences.
If you have follow-up questions about today's conversation that you'd be willing to share
with the Hidden Brain audience, please email them to us.
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And thanks.
Hidden Brain is produced by Hidden Brain Media.
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you