Posted by Eliza on: 07.13.2006 /
I’ve been reading Consciousness Explained by Daniel C. Dennett, a long, somewhat weighty, but interesting tome which may not actually explain consciousness 100% but takes a good stab at it. He’s a philosopher, & his approach doesn’t require knowledge of neurobiology, though he does see the brain as a highly developed & fascinating machine. One interesting topic he brings up several places in the book is “talking to yourself”, and the language of thought.
In chapter 7, Demmett brings up “talking to yourself” as a way that different parts of the brain find and share information, make reminders to each other, and do what he calls “social simulation” – pretending that you are getting someone else’s input.
He also mentions that relaying thoughts along different paths – for example, speaking and hearing them rather than just thinking them – triggers different parts of the brain and may trigger different connections and processing. I thought that was an interesting idea.
In chapter 10, on page 301-2, he talks about language and thoughts (boldface added by me):
Language infects and inflects our thoughts at every level. The words in our vocabularies are catalysts that can precipitate fixations of content as one part of the brain tries to communicate with another. The structures of grammar enforce a discipline on our habits of thought, shaping the ways in which we probe our own “data bases,” trying…to get the right [information] to come when we call…
None of this makes any sense so long as we persist in thinking of the mind as ideally rational, and perfectly self-transparent or unified. What good could talking to yourself do, if you already know what you intended to say? But once we see the possibility of partial understanding, imperfect rationality, problematic intercommunication of parts, we can see how the powerful forces that a language unleashes in a brain can be exploited in various forms of bootstrapping, some of them beneficial, and some of them malignant.
Here is an example.
You are magnificent!
Here is another:
You are pathetic!
You know what these sentences mean. You also know that I have just introduced them out of the blue, as an aid to making a philosophical point, and that they are not the indended speech acts of anyone. Certainly I am neither flattering you nor insulting you, and there is no one else around. But could you flatter yourself, or insult yourself, by helping yourself to either one or the other of my sentences, and saying it to yourself over and over, “with emphasis”? Try it, if you dare. Something happens. You don’t believe yourself for one minute (you say to yourself), but you find that saying the words to yourself does kindle reactions, maybe even a little reddening of the ears, along with responses, retorts, disclaimers, images, recollections, projects. Dale Carnegie was right about the power of positive thinking, but like most technologies, thinking is easier to create than to control. When you talk to yourself, you don’t have to believe yourself in order for reactions to set in…
The philospher Justin Leiber [writes about]… “..the sneaking suspicion that language isn’t something we invented but something we became, not something we constructed but something in which we created, and re-created, ourselves.”
I find language and communication really interesting – the exact words we pick in conversation can really, really change the meaning we intend, and the meaning the listener/reader takes away, and those meanings can be very different. Isn’t that fascinating? And sometimes problematic. But it’s also something I’ve thought and read about before.
And psyching yourself up or down, I’ve definitely heard of that though it’s not something I’ve been aware of doing personally. (I’m more likely to think: “It’s going to be fine” or “Uh oh, this is a problem” rather than anything about myself per se.) This seemed to me to fit, perhaps, with my question at the start of the “Paul and Jesus” thread about calling yourself, considering yourself, a sinner – might that not have pervasive ramifications, throughout your thoughts and into the future?
Now, the broader topic of talking to yourself – is one I haven’t seen discussed anywhere besides this book, as far as I can recall. I know some people do it alot – rely on it, and really enjoy it. I’m one who rarely if ever talks to myself, or at least I don’t address myself while I’m thinking. It seems to me my inner dialogue is more observational and third-person than an overt conversation with myself. I wonder why that is? One possibility is that I’m visually-oriented, not auditory-oriented – for me it’s sometimes “in one ear and out the other” at least in terms of gleaning new information. (I do talk to the dog, and some would say that’s a way of talking to myself. But I don’t do it if he’s not there, and while I don’t expect him to answer I guess I think the sound of a familiar voice is comforting to him. Rationalization? You bet!)
So, just wondering – do you talk to yourself? What does it offer you and do for you? Has it been helpful, or has it gotten in the way? Have you ever tried to, or tried not to, talk to yourself – or say some particular message to yourself? And, do you answer yourself? Is it just talking out loud, or asking yourself questions, or is it a two-way dialogue? What do you think of Dennett’s line, “What good could talking to yourself do, if you already know what you intended to say?”
As someone who doesn’t really do it the “right” way :) I’d love to hear some of you describe what it’s like for you!
Comment by: Julie marie
1I don’t find talking to myself helpful, for instance, I get nowhere when I try to pray aloud in my quiet time. BUT what does work for me is writing. Which is probably why this blog and DB has been so meaningful and helpful to me, the discipline of writing my thoughts helps me organize, reorganize, and rethink.
I started getting up at 5 am to pray by typing into a word document about a month before I found this blog. I had some deep insights, and some dreams that were exploding with meaning for me. This never happened when I tried the out loud praying, or the quiet sit and think about it prayer that I equate to meditation.
I’ve wondered about that…some of my friends say they have wonderful conversations in their prayer time, and I sure wanted that…but that just isn’t how it works for me. The discipline of writing combined with thinking is what propels my spiritual, emotional, rational, and interpersonal life forward. The key for me was accepting the fact that I am not wired to “chat” with myself, or with God, using the auditory sense. But that doesn’t mean no communication takes place. It took me awhile to figure that out.
**as an aside, I have menieres . so that might contribute to the lack of benefit I get from using the auditory sense, and my inclination towards making connections visually**
Comment by: Bob
2I talk to myself all day long. Mostly in my head but quite frequently aloud. I’ve always thought of this as “conscious thought”. I think it is more of an organizational tool for my mind. Oddly enough it is a two-way dialogue. I’ll often “talk through” both sides of an argument. Ahhh…the conversations I’ve had coming out of this dialog alone….
The output of these conversations come in various forms: spoken conversations, blog entries, resultant actions or attitudes. The input comes from things I read or conversations I have.
I think anytime we have a discussion (outside of “nice day, isn’t it?”) we are either sharing the produce of talking to ourselves or are gathering fodder for further conversations with ourselves.
I really resonate with this quote:
Comment by: Eliza
3Julie Marie – interesting that writing is so useful for you – there must be feedback there, not just writing but also thinking about what you’re going to write, and reading it once it’s on paper (or, on screen), and seeing what it was that showed up in your writing! I’ve read that some “visual people” do best with images, some with the written word, some with both. Do you also prefer seeing (or imaging) images over auditory input?
Bob – when you argue with yourself – ok, dialogue with yourself – are you taking 2 sides of a point, or are you reminding yourself what those 2 sides are (even if you clearly prefer one over the other)?
And your comment here fits well with another part of Dennett’s book:
He suggests that our “selves” are made up of, or significantly contain, bits and pieces of things we have taken in from the outside world (and large chunks of things, like language and local culture). He compares this to a snail, for which the shell is crucial to existence and is part of it, but is made up of ingredients which come from outside the snail. Or bowerbirds, whose “special trick” in the animal kingdom is collecting interesting bits of flotsam and jetsam, and making beautiful (to them, apparently) bowers to attract a mate. Again, what distinguishes them from other animals and from each other is what they choose and incorporate from the outside world. Anyway, that’s his analogy to us and our brains and how we end up each so distinct from the other in what our “self” is like. Anyway, I really liked the analogy & image.
Comment by: Bob
4I like the analogy, too. Of course, the “materials” we pick up are a little less tangible. It makes me wonder what percentage of who we are can be attributed to positive experiences and how much is attributed to wounds and scars. I’m sure the most “balanced” of us have equal proportions of both (Why does God allow suffering…hmmm).
I think this is a technique to try to see myself in a more objective light. When there are clear sides, I try to take the side I do not prefer: How do my opinions appear to the other; what is their role/opinion and how are they shaped by it.
It is one way humility takes shape in my life (if I say so myself…;-) ). When God is on the other side, He generally shapes me. When a person is on the other side, I generally soften my stance. When I am on the other side, I am ruthless.
Comment by: NCxian
5I understand things best visually, and I do my best thinking by trying to write about something, printing it out, marking it up, drawing arrows, and so on. I’m probably one of the few people alive who actually sometimes uses an outline like I was taught in grade school. It helps me to see the logic laid out in front of me. I’ve never thought about praying that way, Julie–that’s an interesting idea.
I never used to talk to myself and I think that is consistent with my natural preference for the visual. However, I have started talking to myself in a way. The last few jobs I have had required me to do a lot of public speaking (public meetings, training, facilitation). I am not naturally a very lucid speaker–I don’t think fast on my feet and I don’t always choose the most effective words. So I began my “talking to myself” as a sort of rehearsal of what I planned to say at some talk. Over time, I have come to do it more and more. In my mind it is as if I am drafting and redrafting, just orally. It’s a lot faster than writing it down!
But I do not have a sense of two people in my head. Maybe it is not really talking to myself.
Incidentally, now that I think about, I have also recently become more able to understand other people talking, like lectures and stuff. I used to despise classes where I had to listen to somebody read (I was an English major, so I got large doses of oral Shakespeare, Chaucer, poetry, etc.). Now I sometimes check out books on tape, although I would still rather read a book than listen. (By the way, the guy who reads the Harry Potter books is THE BEST). I don’t know if this happened along with my “talking to myself” or not. Maybe it enhanced my ability to process information aurally–incoming or outgoing?
Comment by: NCxian
6I’ve been racking my brain (and googling like crazy) trying to remember some stuff from my info to linguistics class (which was several decades ago). That your language actually defines what you can and cannot think. Here is a good definition of part of the theory, from Wikipedia/Answers.com.
http://www.answers.com/topic/sapir-whorf-hypothesis-1
Comment by: Julie Marie
7yes, there’s definitely a feedback loop going on when I write, and that part I do have a mental dialog with but I can’t do it without writing. I do prefer visual input in general, and I prefer a quiet environment. (that was one challenging thing about hospital nursing; all the various auditory stimuli…) I work at home, alone…and rarely ever turn on the radio. And never the TV. It drives me NUTS when we have company that likes the TV as background noise. There was a poem that meant alot to my mother at one point, and while I was a child she would play a 45 of it over and over and over as she sewed and I played at her feet. I truly internalized it…Desiderata. It starts out: Go placidly amidst the noise and haste and remember what peace there may be in silence….
which ties in nicely with
the sentiments of Desiderata, in its entirelty, is bound as tightly to my psyche as any other piece of wisdom, secular or spiritual.
Comment by: Julie Marie
8NC–
interesting stuff! thanks for digging up that link. As someone who strives to say precisely what she means, I find it fascinating.
Comment by: mark
9I am in a constant conversation with myself, from when i first wake up until i finally fall asleep. I believe it strengthens me. It mentally strengthens me that is. I talk to myself in a two way dialog – i usually try to think of the most positive point of view that i could take for a given situation or problem i am facing. If i ever feel depressed i ask myself why – i identify the issue that is making me depressed – then i work out a solution to the problem and i do whatever needs to be done to make myself feel better again. I am always trying to stay happy and not stressed – i dont like living my life stressed. I often rely on talking to myself to get myself through tough times. When disasters happen in my life – i usually relly on talking to myself for long periods of time until im satisfied that everything is ok.
Comment by: Helen
10Thanks Mark – I talk to myself for that reason too.
Paradoxically I find that the other thing which works as well – sometimes better – is distracting myself from my internal dialog, by, say, watching a movie or getting involved in an activity which requires all my attention focused outward. Sometimes that makes the issue go away.
This makes sense based on things I’ve read which say sometimes our brains can get ‘stuck’ like a car getting stuck in a certain gear; and so what we need to do is get them unstuck again somehow.