We are constantly presented with news we can’t ignore, and must prepare accordingly.
As I write this (12:16 PST, October 24, 2018) a story is developing where Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, Maxine Waters, CNN, and (possibly) the San Diego Union-Tribune and Kamala Harris have all been sent explosive devices. My Facebook and Twitter feeds are overtaken by a torrent of updates. Media outlets are swimming in miasma of facts, quoting each other in a wicked quick game of telephone. Even when facts are checked, falsehoods persist in comment threads. Everything seems possible, nothing is real save the hunger for more information. The cycle for this story could be an afternoon or a week, but we won’t know how long until, well, we know.
Momentous Interruptions
The political bombings mentioned above are a good example of what I call a Momentous Interruption. These events tend to be unavoidable in social media, overtaking feeds seemingly instantaneously, and engender a high amount of ambiguity in cause or outcome. This ambiguity causes unavoidable cognitive and emotional strain. This leads to speculation and storytelling in search of relief.
Our search for relief can hurt us, though.
Storytellers, all
Humans are natural storytellers. It’s how we make sense of the world, a practice that dates back to our cave-dwelling ancestors. This proclivity for storytelling dovetails beautifully with our human aversion to ambiguity. What better way to resolve the anxiety and fear of not understanding something than finding a story about why things are the way they are that doesn’t challenge our preconceived notions?
I should be clear, here. This isn’t a moral judgment — it’s a cognitive reality. The world is complex, and we cannot process every bit of information that we are presented with. We have bills to pay, families to feed, friends to support, lives to live. Stories lighten the load when we can’t avoid hearing about or dealing with new situations that don’t have easy explanations.
When we encounter an Momentous Interruption, the quickest way to deal with their burden is to find a believable story. What counts as believable is unique to each individual, but the fact is humans are wired to resolve the psychic pain of ambiguity (a form of cognitive dissonance) as fast as possible.
Take the developing political bombings, for instance. GOP agitators can solve their ambiguity by saying: “This is a false flag operation, clearly!” Democratic agitators can make comfortable sense by saying: “Look at what Trump’s rhetoric has created!” Those suspicious of Russian interference find comfort with: “This is a psy-op designed to sow discord before the election!”
These narratives all seek to instill cognitively frictionless order on an unknown situation. That, alone, is not a problem — but what room do these narratives leave for future information that disconfirms them? Worse: what do these narratives do with future information that *supports* them? Actually, these are trick questions: no matter the narrative, all of them induce confirmation bias. Those narratives have an additive effect, too: The more we spend our cognitive-emotional-social-fiscal resources on them, the more burned in they become, and the more resistant to nuance we become.
How do we not fall into this trap?
Defense against Momentous Interruptions is longitudinal
Despite writing this in a moment where we don’t know the truth of a developing situation, it’s important to see the bombings as part of a larger pattern of Momentous Interruptions. In other words, life happens constantly. Today it’s political bombings, yesterday it was the Kavanaugh hearings, tomorrow it will probably be something with the Saudis or the Russians.
High-signal events will keep coming at us hard and fast. They are chronic patterns, not acute irregularities. As such, we should focus on managing cognitive and emotional preparation instead of honing reactivity.
- Curate your social media feed to include voices prone to confirmation biases beyond your own. The presence of stories that do not match ours can help us moderate our fear IF we see others as intelligent. Practice taking in information from multiple sources, and find differently-minded people you can engage with in times of calm AND distress. With enough practice, this process will feel calming. Still…
- If getting out of your social media echo chamber is impractical or impossible, the second best thing to do is to limit your interactivity on social media until the ambiguity of a developing situation is resolved. Less inputs mean less time to build biased stories, and less cognitive and emotional cycles spent on burning in your bias. It is important to remember that this is not permission to opt out; this is merely a stop-gap until you can…
- Build a stronger social network. Momentous Interruptions often feel like one-off events, making us more likely to react to them in our fear and anxiety. It is impossible to fully excise these reactions from our minds and hearts. Thus, we must reduce their impact: by having outlets for them when they happen, by anticipating them, by rolling with the punches instead of retrenching them. This means that you should…
- Care for yourself beyond today. Momentous Interruptions are chronic, even when they feel singularly terrible. It’s imperative to understand that you’re feeling sapped (and thereby more easily biased) because you are dealing with months and years of bombardment. That means taking care of yourself longitudinally. Don’t just do something relaxing and rejuvenating for yourself today, set a weekly commitment. Practice checking in with yourself in times of relative ease, not just when the world is on fire.
Today will not be the last Momentous Interruption in your life, but maybe it will be the first that allows you to start reclaiming your cognitive and emotional space.
We all function better when we prepare for these impacts.
You can do this.
Intersection 9 