Sunday, April 20, 2008

Amy Fleischer
Hedonics/Reward

A theme of a previous class discussion was that we must understand consciousness in order to understand feeling. We ended that class with the idea that gaining greater cognitive control over our emotional processes allows us to make better decisions, and therefore it should be our collective aim. The following week, we discussed the implications of these findings for neuroeconomics– as well as evidence for the value of somatic feedback during decision-making. This week, we have come across another possibility that adds extra dimension to our understanding of how decisions are made: hedonics and reward. These theories dance around the assumption that we are motivated by complex emotions to experience pleasure.

Among other things, this week’s readings presents us with a case for non-conscious emotional experiences that may not be felt but serve to guide our behavior in powerful ways. Coincidentally, the very last article that I read, What is an unconscious emotion? The case for unconscious “liking”), served as a type of umbrella for the others. Below, I will try to draw out the themes of each paper as they relate to the one above.

In Parsing Reward, by Barridge and Robinson, the effects of subliminal messaging is used to illustrate the differences between affective “liking” and motivational “wanting” (507). The authors suggest breaking down what seems to be a single experience (seeking pleasure) in order to examine various consequences and dissociable neural substrates. The paper states, “if implicit reward is separable from its subjective feelings, […] then core reward processes might be more amenable to objective measurement” (508). This language echoes a type of mechanistic metaphor of the brain, wherein a human organ is made of isolated, interchangeable parts like the modern car. Of course, the picture is not entirely bleak because motivation is further complicated by attention, learning, and cognition.

The Pleasures and Pains of Information describes the veritable Information Age in which we live– where scientists assert that abstract information has very concrete values in terms of how it is perceived in the brain. This article also points to a topic that was raised at the end of our last class: the relationship between language and materiality. A related question might be: at what level/s do we extract utility from information? Is it while we predict what could occur as a result of new knowledge or is it only after we have experienced the effect of what we’ve learned? What follows is the ability to form “motivated” beliefs or to process information in a biased way (705). Here, we are faced with many implications of presenting information.

In the Peculiar Longevity piece by Gilbert et al., the amazing thing about people is that we can imagine or “envision” alternatives to the present situation, enabling us to discover consequences of an event without actually having to experience it (3). This interesting article is about the region-b paradox, which concludes that intense states abate more quickly than mild ones (2). Among several things, it points to the fact that outside observers may feel more intensely negative than a victim for reasons that exceed logic; this finding is especially relevant to the discussion of unconscious emotion.

Another major issue raised in this week’s readings is, again, how we categorize emotional events in tandem with sophisticated neuroimaging techniques. Using more and more detailed information, we make maps of the brain in order to know more than we can feel. Various levels of awareness combine to form interactive systems that demonstrate how we process information and make decisions based on that information. We also act
on what we feel, but how much do we really know about our motivation?

In The Optimistic Brain, Schacter and Addis attempt to sketch out specific locations (or routes) for optimism and, by default, provide another possible physical correlate to depression (1346).

Within almost all of the readings, framing emerges as a device that is used to color information. [As an aside, I recommend “Don’t Think of an Elephant: Know your values and frame the debate” (a guide for progressives) by cognitive scientist and linguist George Lakoff– just to see how he explains why conservatives in America are controlling dialogue when they frame the issue of the estate tax as “the death tax”, for example.] Several other articles also reintroduce valence as means to categorize emotion. The paper that asks, in its title, “Is Optimism Always Best?” draws some seemingly obvious conclusions. That people should hope for the best and prepare for the worst is an old adage; and although it may not provide the same degree of complexity attempted in this theoretical discussion, it is often used to suggest the virtue of being prepared. Again, this article re-frames a familiar topic (optimism) in a way that shakes up the divide between positive and negative expectations. Among the “future directions” listed at the end of this study is whether or not children learn about the utility of shifting from optimism through experience or “increased cognitive abilities”; however, these two are not such separate options because the former can clearly cause the latter (305).

At the very least, common themes of feeling-as-information (186) and the interrelationship of affect and cognition (190) are latent within the longer paper by Berridge and Winkielman concerning unconscious emotion. There are many more relevant connections as this text raises so many questions about emotional processes in the brain. Luckily, the authors recognize that it is not an all or none situation- and that emotions can occur consciously and unconsciously in various parts of the brain- even if normal structures/functioning is disturbed.

Finally, I really liked the Peculiar article because it approaches the complexity of emotions and shows how love and hate can go hand-in hand– even if just for a brief moment. It also provides some interesting questions for how to manage crisis intervention, such as when to intercede.

2 comments:

Mikal Shapiro said...

Amy’s synthesis of this week’s articles (and our on-going dialogues) sparked my recognition of an emotional metaphor that links our affected states and memories with perceived physical spaces. For example, the stronger our feelings, the closer the stimulus seems to us physically and the more we can imagine “feeling” it in the visceral, tactical sense. In light of the article on region-b paradox (and to expand upon the metaphor), it seems that when experiences/people/issues/etc. are closer to us emotionally, we can “grasp” the feelings easier or get more of a “handle” on them. When the “perpetrators” are distant or the feelings are more remote, the situation is less controllable and more “out of hand” and thus upsetting. Also, when predicting affected states as illustrated in the “Optimism” article, the further we cast our emotional selves into the future, the more optimistic we are about possible situations and the less we prepare ourselves practically/tactically for them. The authors even use this physical space metaphor when they cite the example “as the moment of truth draws near…” (Sweeney, et al. p. 304); the nearer the truth is to us, the more “realistic” our feelings about it. The metaphor might also shed light on how ‘wanting’ particular stimuli corresponds to the sense that the stimuli compel and attract us--“it’s so close, I can taste it!” By self-stimulating their electrodes, the patients in Berridge’s article may be responding to the sensation that, although pleasure is ultimately unattainable, they can continue to activate the sense that it is continuously drawing closer.

Kevin Goldstein said...

I’m also very much intrigued by the region-b paradox. It seems that in a given situation one employs coping strategies in proportion to the perceived need to cope. The especially long journey, the serious injury elicits, as one would imagine, more intense coping mechanisms. But the minute, quotidian instances of suffering (using suffering in the broadest sense of the word) ultimately cause us greater pain because we no not invest as much energy coping with them.
We’re brought back to the question of what is reason? would it not be “reasonable” to invest more energy—though not too much—in coping with the challenges we face daily than in those which occur rarely? Does the region-b paradox ultimately cost less in the costs-benefits scale of evolutionary biology? Perhaps greater disinterest to frequent suffering is itself a coping mechanism? In this sense, not coping is a means of coping.