Tagged: psychology
Scary Close
Scary Close: Dropping the Act and Finding True Intimacy by Donald Miller, 3/5
Miller is an entertaining writer, but not a very convincing psychologist. While it is fun to read the story of how he developed a healthier approach to relationships and gradually found love at a relatively late age, I felt like he spent a lot of time answering easy questions I didn’t have while skirting around the most important, mysterious, confusing aspects of the topic. He claims to want to teach that “love is worth what it costs,” but the focus of the book is much more on how to pay the cost than the worth. For me, the real question isn’t what caused his previous relationships to fail and his current one to succeed (that is fairly obvious–turns out that authenticity and vulnerability make a better foundation than insecurity and manipulation), the big question is why did he suddenly feel compelled to make it work with someone in particular? Now that I’m thinking about it, this is the exact issue I had with the previous book on relationships I read. Perhaps one day, I’ll find a book that focuses on the why, not the how, but until then I guess I’ll just hope they are as entertaining as this one.
Why I read it: a family member recommended it to me.
The New Toughness Training for Sports
The New Toughness Training for Sports: Mental, Emotional, and Physical Conditioning from One of the World’s Premier Sports Psychologists by James E. Loehr, ED.D., 4/5
For the casual participant in competitive sports, this book is the literary equivalent of that annoying person who gives you really hard, practical advice when maybe all you wanted was some encouragement and affirmation (I don’t actually know anyone like that, so That Person is probably me). While I was put off by all the self-assessment, soul-searching, diary-keeping, essay-writing, plans, logs and mantras Loehr recommends, they do seem like a plausible way to at least take your mind off negative emotions, clarify your commitment to your sport and get focused.
Defining “toughness” as “the ability to consistently perform toward the upper range of your talent and skill regardless of competitive circumstances” (5), Loehr explores the concepts of Real Self vs Performer Self and how your mental and emotional habits affect your Ideal Performance State. One of the most interesting ideas in this book is wave-making–achieving growth through alternating phases of stress and recovery (mental, emotional and physical). This is something I’d already figured out on some level, but never seen put into words. Also, Loehr’s clarification of just how much stress is healthy was very helpful. I’ve long thought that the whole “no pain no gain” mentality is a bit simplistic and possibly dangerous for people with over-achieving personalities; yes, you should push yourself, but going too far just to make a point is a bad long-term strategy. Loehr distinguishes between discomfort and pain, identifying the first as stress that toughens and the second as a symptom of overtraining.
My first impression of this book was not good, but as I dip into it again to write this review, I start to suspect that it might reward a slower, more thoughtful reading than the first one I gave it. It contains a lot of information, but all very concisely communicated, which can give the impression of shallowness during a quick reading. If it wasn’t overdue at the library, I’d read it again, but perhaps I will buy a copy instead.
Why I read it: Stephan Kesting mentioned it on grapplearts.com as one of his favorite sports psychology books (along with Wrestling Tough).
Love Factually
Love Factually: 10 Proven Steps from I Wish to I Do by Duana C. Welsh, PHD, 2/5
I’ve always suspected that I belong to one of the thin ends on the bell curve of normality, so perhaps I should not have been so surprised that reading this book was like reading placards at the zoo about weird animal mating rituals. In this case, the strange animal is a human being who is definitely sure that being married is the key to their happiness and isn’t too hung up on the minor details, like exactly who to marry or why. After all, if you’re determined to find a spouse, Welch argues that it’s just a simple case of creating a list of more or less arbitrary criteria that can be used to sort through participants in a tireless grind of date-interviews that goes on until you find someone who is either a) if you are a woman, a man who pays for everything and is infatuated with you thanks to your hard-to-get attitude or b) if you are a man, a woman who can be convinced to love you and is as young and beautiful as your status and economic resources merit.
As a guide to getting what you already know you want in a relationship, this book is both practical and disturbingly plausible. But for people who not only don’t know what they want, but doubt even the possibility of being able to predict what will actually make them happy, this book is worse than useless–it’s nauseating.
Why I read it: it was a gift from a family member.
Better Than Before
Better Than Before: Mastering the Habits of Our Everyday Lives by Gretchen Rubin, 3/5
They say that opposites attract, in which case I suspect that I may be very similar to the author, who I found to be thoroughly grating. Perhaps it’s her approach to the topic, which is somehow both overly analytical and overly anecdotal, or perhaps it’s because studying how to make habits seems pointless to me (surely the hard part is deciding what habits to have, not how to keep them up?). I knew I was in trouble when Rubin’s first attempt (of many) to organize her readers into overly-tidy categories failed to resonate with me–am I an Upholder, Questioner, Obliger, or Rebel? Does it even matter? At any rate, I felt so little interest in this book that I had a difficult time finishing it and remember practically nothing about it now. It has joined the growing ranks of faceless self-help books that have made the New York Times Best Seller list but not an impression on me.
[Why I read it: my friend Joy recommended it to me.]
Man’s Search for Meaning
Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor E. Frankl, 5/5
When a psychiatrist who endured the German concentration camps of WWII has something to say about happiness and the meaning of life, you can bet it’s something worth paying attention to. Frankl’s thoughts on the bigger questions in life are woven into the first part of this short book–an account of the author’s experiences and observations in Auschwitz and other concentration camps. An introduction to the foundations of logotherapy (the author’s approach to psychotherapy) comprise the second part of the book, in which Frankl’s ideas really come into focus.
Frankl’s refreshing premise is that “man’s search for meaning is the primary motivation in his life” (121) and that “A man’s concern, even his despair, over the worthwhileness of life is an existential distress but by no means a mental disease” (125). The author’s theory of the meaning of life encompasses the complexities of human existence with startling simplicity:
As each situation in life represents a challenge to man and presents a problem for him to solve, the question of the meaning of life may actually be reversed. Ultimately, man should not ask what the meaning of his life is, but rather he must recognize that it is he who is asked. In a word, each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible (131).
I have seldom been moved as this book moved me, right from the preface, which contains this bit of wisdom that alone would make the book worth reading:
Don’t aim at success–the more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it. For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue, and it only does so as the unintended side-effect of one’s personal dedication to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one’s surrender to a person other than oneself. Happiness must happen, and the same holds for success: you have to let it happen by not caring about it. I want you to listen to what your conscience commands you to do and go on to carry it out to the best of your knowledge. Then you will live to see that in the long run–in the long run, I say!–success will follow you precisely because you had forgotten to think of it (17).
[Why I read it: it was mentioned in Your Money or Your Life and the title sounded interesting.]
The Organized Mind
The Organized Mind: Thinking Straight in the Age of Information Overload by Daniel J. Levitin, 4/5
I didn’t enjoy reading this book very much; it does not seem well focused, does not flow very well and flip-flops annoyingly between information that is too technical to be useful and organizational ideas that are too simplistic. In one paragraph, the author explains that the enzyme catechol-O-methyltransferase regulates dompamine and noradrenaline in the prefrontal cortex, in another he suggests the not-exactly-earth-shattering idea of writing things down instead of trying to remember everything.
That said, there were still a lot of very interesting concepts in this book and several of the things I learned merited being read aloud to the family or being brought up in conversation over the last few days. For example, it should be common knowledge by now that multitasking is not a thing, but did you know that watching TV while studying can actually cause the information you learn to be stored in the wrong part of your brain? That’s powerful stuff. Or that humans naturally tend toward a bimodal sleeping pattern that includes two four or five hour chunks, separated by an hour or two of wakefulness in the middle of the night and supplemented by an afternoon nap?
In my opinion, this book can’t hold a candle to Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman (who, along with his partner Amos Tversky, is referenced quite often in The Organized Mind), but Levitin compensates for a sub-ideal reading experience by the fascinating and varied topics he explores.
[Why I read it: My friend, Joy, recommended it to me.]
It’s Not About the Shark
It’s Not About the Shark: How to Solve Unsolvable Problems by David Niven, Ph.D., 3/5
Everyone likes a good story and this book is full of them, from Steven Spielberg’s broken mechanical shark to the unintuitive results of a psychological study involving marshmallows and SAT scores. However, the point of the book is ostensibly to enlighten, not just entertain, and this is where the weaknesses start, in my opinion. Every couple of anecdotes, Niven stops to draw conclusions and give tips about problem solving which tend to be counter-cultural and surprising, such as “when you are stuck, find a good distraction that takes you away from your problems” (22) or “don’t follow the leader…[who] in many cases is just the person with bad ideas who has been around the longest” (182). These tips are generally supported by two or three cherry-picked examples or studies and represent a gross oversimplification and overly-broad application of psychological findings. For example, just because doctors in a study who were given candy made more accurate diagnoses doesn’t necessarily mean “eat a candy bar” is helpful advice (though, in case you needed an excuse to break your diet, this advice can be found on page 40).
[Why I read it: I think my friend Joy mentioned it, but I’m not sure. I also had a good feeling about the author’s name, which I thought I recognized, but it turns out I was thinking about a different David Niven (the English actor).]
Stumbling on Happiness
Stumbling on Happiness by Daniel Gilbert, 2/5
This lightweight, unsatisfying book, written for an audience that can most charitably be described as extremely credulous, undemanding and allergic to anything requiring mental rigour, is a great example of what I hate about pop science. Alternating between a tone of forced humour and relentless summarization of psychological studies in the style of a college research paper, Gilbert gleefully explores humankind’s failings when it comes to remembering past events and predicting future ones (especially with regard to their impact on future happiness). For no apparent reason, he seems to consider psychological subjects’ reports of their current feelings as almost infallibly reliable (though the concept of “current” could itself be the topic of discussion), while devaluing reports of remembered and predicted happiness. In the book, he doesn’t explore the methodology of most of the studies he cites, so you are forced to take it on trust that the studies are reliable, in addition to trusting his own interpretation of the results. Many of the examples he uses seem open to other, conflicting interpretations, which he does not acknowledge or explain. Gilbert’s final conclusion, that we should consult the current feelings of people who are having experiences we hope to have in the future, in order to find out their real potential to make us happy or unhappy, is as unsatisfying as it is impractical.
It is understandable that some simplification and ambiguity is necessary when writing on a complex topic for the average audience, but I feel that Gilbert oversimplifies to the point of ridiculousness. I have no doubt that, in conversation, he would be convincing, enlightening and entertaining, but a book is not a conversation; if something seems wrong or raises questions, I have very little recourse (since I am not a psychology expert). Ironically, the experience of reading this book made me very unhappy, which proves some of Gilbert’s points, I guess.
Despite the book’s shortcomings, the average reader would likely enjoy it and even learn some interesting psychological stuff. But for anyone who likes to think or is looking for helpful advice, this book has not a shred of value compared to the mind-blowing excellence that is Daniel Kahneman’s Thinking, Fast and Slow.
[Why I read it: The title caught my eye in the thrift store and I was impressed by the writer’s Harvard credentials and the quote on the cover.]
Give and Take
Give and Take: A Revolutionary Approach to Success by Adam Grant, 4/5
This book explores the characteristics, strengths and weaknesses of “givers” (both “otherish” and “selfless”) compared to “takers” and “matchers,” analyzing why givers are more likely to experience extremes of failure or success. Grant illustrates his points with numerous interviews and psychological studies/experiments performed by himself and others, which he works skillfully into the text. This isn’t one of those unsatisfying, modern self-help books that have little original thought and substance to contribute–Grant has something to offer and he doesn’t waste your time.
[Why I read it: So annoying: I can’t remember what put this book on my radar!]
The Rorschach Technique
The Rorschach Technique: An Introductory Manual by Bruno Klopfer and Helen H. Davidson, 2/5
After a few pages containing a dizzying number of acronyms, diagrams and guidelines, I soon realised that there is more to the Rorschach than simply labeling someone as disturbed because they saw a scary face and blood stains in an ink blot. Interestingly, the Rorschach is not actually a test at all, but a method, purportedly providing valuable psychological info through analysis of the subject’s reaction to and interpretation of 10 different ink blot cards. While the method is admirably complex, I was disappointed that the book focuses more on administering and interpreting the Rorschach than establishing its legitimacy in the first place. Being assured that “the meanings attached to the scores…possess clinical rather than experimental validity” does little to allay my native suspicion (128).
My low rating of this book is based on the fact that it is outdated (from 1962), does not adequately establish the Rorschach’s validity and provides only black and white depictions of the cards.
[Why I read it: random thrift store find. I wanted to learn more on the topic, since I suspected that popular culture’s perception of the Rorschach was flawed.]
