Near our hotel in San Francisco, on our last vacation, was a Cold Stone Creamery.
Cold Stone has a certain mystique for my two boys - one I deliberately promote by going there for only a few times a year. They go to Baskin Robbins every week. So Cold Stone is reserved for when you want to plan a trip, anticipate it, salivate over it, spend 20 minutes walking up and down the counter putting together that perfect ice cream you been waiting for....
So we are walking down the street, and there beckons a Cold Stone franchise. Now my boys don't yet know about Ghiradelli's. So I make a deal with them - 'You can go to Cold Stone on your own money, or I will take you to Ghiradelli's and you can buy whatever you want.'
The older boy (9) takes the deal. The younger one (5) does not. The older one then tries very hard to explain to him the benefits of this deal.
That episode got me thinking enough, that later I actually jotted down notes about it.
The two things that caught my attention were
1. Is the promise about the future believable? Will dad actually buy me anything I want? (In fact I did break that promise. Ghiradelli had a $30 concoction that I said no to.)
2. Will the the ice cream at Ghiradelli's be better than the one at Cold Stone. (That did turn out to be true. But we had just finished a four hour bike ride on a sunny day, and we'd stood 15 minutes in line just to order.)
Given this little bit of history, you will now understand why I was suitably primed to read Jonah Lehrer's piece in the May 18th New Yorker -
Don’t! The secret of self-control.[btw, given my previous blog post about Science, this article is a really good example of how good science just seems to
happen, but only to
good scientists.]
The article is built around Walter Mischel's experiments at Stanford in the late 1960's.
A researcher then made Carolyn an offer: she could either eat one marshmallow right away or, if she was willing to wait while he stepped out for a few minutes, she could have two marshmallows when he returned. He said that if she rang a bell on the desk while he was away he would come running back, and she could eat one marshmallow but would forfeit the second. Then he left the room.
It surprised me that 30% of the children were able to wait until the researcher got back - some waited 15 minutes. I expected the number to be much lower - if they were all 4 years old.
In 1981 Mischel got interested in what happened to those 653 children. (I don't yet know their ages, but Carolyn was 4 at the time). Before you read on, I urge you to take a moment to think whether their adult lives would be any different, and in what way. The answer is a real kicker.
Once Mischel began analyzing the results, he noticed that low delayers, the children who rang the bell quickly, seemed more likely to have behavioral problems, both in school and at home. They got lower S.A.T. scores. They struggled in stressful situations, often had trouble paying attention, and found it difficult to maintain friendships. The child who could wait fifteen minutes had an S.A.T. score that was, on average, two hundred and ten points higher than that of the kid who could wait only thirty seconds.
Carolyn Weisz [now 44] is a textbook example of a high delayer. She attended Stanford as an undergraduate, and got her Ph.D. in social psychology at Princeton. She’s now an associate psychology professor at the University of Puget Sound. Craig [her brother, older by a year, who in fact took all the candy, and then broke into the desk to see if he could get even more] , meanwhile, moved to Los Angeles and has spent his career doing “all kinds of things” in the entertainment industry, mostly in production. He’s currently helping to write and produce a film. “Sure, I wish I had been a more patient person,” Craig says. “Looking back, there are definitely moments when it would have helped me make better career choices and stuff.”
Gosh!
Lehrer's article also includes mentions of how this line of research has continued since 1981, and is still on going. I don't completely agree with the way the research is proceeding (at least in the way Lehrer describes it) in terms of developing 'self-control' in school children. At least I'd like to see it go further than just developing strategies to block out all those appealing 'distractions' - those mordern day marshmallows.
But first some more quotes
Mischel :
Once you realize that will power is just a matter of learning how to control your attention and thoughts, you can really begin to increase it.
Jonides, who is now brain scanning the original subjects:
This is how self-control “cashes out” in the real world: as an ability to direct the spotlight of attention so that our decisions aren’t determined by the wrong thoughts."
The article ends thus.
Mischel knows that it’s not enough just to teach kids mental tricks—the real challenge is turning those tricks into habits, and that requires years of diligent practice. “This is where your parents are important,” Mischel says. “Have they established rituals that force you to delay on a daily basis? Do they encourage you to wait? And do they make waiting worthwhile?” According to Mischel, even the most mundane routines of childhood—such as not snacking before dinner, or saving up your allowance, or holding out until Christmas morning—are really sly exercises in cognitive training: we’re teaching ourselves how to think so that we can outsmart our desires. But Mischel isn’t satisfied with such an informal approach. “We should give marshmallows to every kindergartner,” he says. “We should say, ‘You see this marshmallow? You don’t have to eat it. You can wait. Here’s how.’ ”
So here's my take, based in part on that earlier San Francisco experience.
Firstly, in Life, delayed gratification is not about getting two marshmallows instead of one. It is about making a choice now for a future you cannot adequately imagine. "Will my life after I go to college be 'better' than my life if I did not go to college?" "Will my life after I save for retirement be 'better' than my life if I did not save now?"
In large part our answers to these depend on how much we believe the people who assure as that these choices are worth it. (Like my 9 year-old assuring his 5 year-old brother that this is a good deal, while the 5 year-old is wondering if the Ghiradelli ice cream is really all the good.)
Secondly, in Life, delayed gratification is not about sitting there waiting for the second marshmallow. It is about putting in a certain amount of effort on the front-end in return for delayed, and presumably superior, gratification. It is not about "Do I turn off the TV now, do my homework, and then get to watch TV?" It is more about "Do I quickly finish my homework so I can watch TV? Or do I take more time and effort to do my homework well, and maybe I won't be able to watch any TV? And if I do take more time over my homework, will I really go to college?" (Dad said that if you wait, then he'd buy you anything you wanted at Ghiradelli's. Dad also said that if you worked hard in school, then you'd get to go to the college of your choice. But when the payday comes dad usually explains that what he really meant was.....)
Postscript: I was still mulling over the Lehrer article and this blog post, when, on Saturday after 3 hours in the hot sun at the playoffs for my son's Ultimate Frisbee season, I suggested we go get some ice cream. The nearest Baskin Robbins that I knew off was 30 minutes away. Just before we got onto the freeway, I saw a McDonalds. The older boy decided he would rather have a McFlurry now than wait until we got home. The younger one said he'd wait. When we got back to the familiarity of our neighborhood, I asked "What about Fred Meyer?" and to my surprise he chose that option. He spent $2 on 21 popsicles, took them home, sat in the sun with his brother and they worked their way through 3 different flavors before going off to play on the computer. I still have 15 popsicles in the freezer screaming at me "Take that, Delayed Gratification!"