The Flynn effect is an observation that IQ test scores tend to rise among the general population (and among many subpopulations) at a rate of about 3 points per decade. The cause of this trend has been the subject of much debate. Despite this, I found it difficult to find standard deviations or other moment statistics over the time period studied by Flynn. Aside from the increased knowledge of IQ testing today (which would cause more of the gifted to get tested and presumably raise the mean score), there isn’t any reason why more would test gifted. However, it’s possible that improvements in medicine have prevented many from falling below the mean due to disease (congenital or early developmental, most likely). These stats would allow testing of these hypotheses.
Category Archives: Psychology
Marketing to the Conventional
Kohlberg’s stages of moral development indicate not only moral codes, but what people are primarily motivated by (an inseparable consequence of how one sees the world). This makes it useful for marketing.
The majority of individuals fall between stages 3 and 4 of this theory – the “conventional” stages: these people consider actions proper if they support social roles or a position of established authority (“following laws for their own sake” or “doing something because everyone else in my situation does”) or if they promote interpersonal accord (“this will help bring the community closer together”).
Particularly within the area of non-profit advertising, I am finding that this is how a message must be tuned – not “why is it good for its own sake?” but “how will this benefit the most people?”
Holding the position that there is no conflict between individual goals and those of society has made me eager to demonstrate it, however. Particularly when creating a new educational paradigm, this isn’t difficult.
Abstraction: Why *DO* we care about fiction?
I’m currently reading an interesting book on the philosophy of the Legend of Zelda games (that sort of thing immediately jumps out at you when you see it in a bookstore). The first chapter is on why we care about what happens in the game world, knowing full well that it is fictional.
The author first criticizes the “suspension of disbelief” and “pretend” theories, as we are fully aware that the game situation is not real on a rational level yet are unable to fully control the emotional responses it evokes. The author then proposes a multilevel system of consciousness, under which we may locally consider the game world real yet may be globally aware that the world is still a game (performance anxiety is another example of this – some performers, myself included, become very stressed out prior to a performance, but are we in any mortal danger? No.
I think the author’s theory explains part of the scenario: just as we would pull away from the touch of a hot oven without thinking (a reflex arc), we apply the rules we’ve learned in the real world to the game world:
Fire -> Danger
Spikes -> Sharp pointy objects -> Danger
Monsters -> Deadly animals -> Danger
etc.
When under threat, it has been evolutionary advantageous for us to react quickly, with little to no intermediary processing. We apply our rules to the character, determine that we’re in danger, and respond as if the danger were real.
But there’s the rub: why do we care what happens to the protagonist? Link isn’t a real person. He can’t even speak. We don’t have any situations that can literally relate to his dungeon crawls (although it can be argued that Link’s adventures can be conveyed as metaphors for frightening scenarios in our own lives).
The answer lies in our capacity for empathy: we identify with Link’s motives, with the interactions he has with other characters, and in how his actions move the storyline forward. Because we are controlling Link, we often internalize his actions (“I just found the Master Sword” vs. “Link just found the Master Sword” are both plausible statements when playing the game), but we are just his guide. And because we are responsible for him and we have come to empathize with his motivations and struggle, we endeavor to protect him when threatened.
Baroque, Rococo, and Reformation
All of human history is a battle between simplicity and complexity. It is reflected in our culture, our science, our philosophy, our governments, our conflicts, and our actions.
We constantly build large, intricate, complex systems, only to later knock them down and return to basics.
More on the Working Set Theory of (Human) Memory
I hypothesize that evocation of one concept triggers additional concepts learned to be similar to that one by association. Think of one thing and related things are involuntarily pulled in as well; you import a whole cluster of memories rather than a single one. (Incidentally, this is how disks pull in data – by block – except that there is usually little conceptual locality to the way the data is arranged on disk… maybe there should be, as this would be far more optimal for caching and other purposes?)
Furthermore, I hypothesize that this influences the use of additional associated concepts even outside of their intended use; i.e., it is a more general form of priming. For example, the first sentence of the Wikipedia article on retributive justice makes use of the term “eye” outside of the obvious association “eye for an eye” (which appears further below):
“Retributive justice is a theory of justice that considers that proportionate punishment is a morally acceptable response to crime, with an eye to the satisfaction and psychological benefits it can bestow to the aggrieved party, its intimates and society.”
I postulate that this is not at all incidental, but due to the pulling in of “clusters” of related ideas in memory.
There is a further use for this theory in pedagogy: by moving on from a single topic but integrating certain “key ideas” or even “key words” from a previous topic, you can reinforce that topic while introducing new material. For example, if I used the term “phylogeny” extensively while teaching students about tree data structures, then moved on and discussed genetic algorithms, I could cause students to recall the tree lecture by using the term “phylogeny” in a different context. It has essentially become a trigger point for recalling an unrelated memory.
Tradition is locally optimal
It does not converge on the best solution, merely a good one. And it persists long after it ceases to perform its function.
Human Pride
Humans are classified in the family Hominidae, along with the other Great Apes. Wikipedia has a history of the revision of the taxonomy of this particular family, and it’s an interesting modern example of the conflict between the human desire to set ourselves apart as special creatures and scientific objectivity dictating that we are not all that special from a biological standpoint. In particular, note the creation of tribe hominini after humans were merged into the same subfamily as chimpanzees and gorillas and the eventual reluctant merging of chimps into hominini as well.
The relationship between position in the classroom and performance appears to be causal.
Any teacher can tell you that there is definitely a correlation between distance from the front of the classroom and performance. But what I found interesting today was that my class, being confined to a smaller room and thus forced much closer to the professor, appeared bolder in answering questions and generally more engaged in the lecture. In short, they performed far better in class. This seems to suggest a causal relationship.
Stagnation precludes success!
One thing that keeps unsuccessful people that way is the belief that one has finally finished learning; that one can never grow any further – or even worse, that one has no desire to grow any further.
Successful people never stop growing.
Is SAD really a disorder, or an indication of a problem with the workday?
How much of Seasonal Affective Disorder is truly a physiological reaction to a shorter day? I just realized around the DST change that most people probably get almost no sunlight at all in the winter thanks to the way a typical workday is set up (once the sun sets before 5 PM, that’s it; game over!)
This would be yet another instance of the dehumanization of perfectly normal people by placing them in a completely unreasonable environment, then labeling them defective because they are unable to cope with that environment.
Solution: shorten the workday by an hour or two (taking away people’s morning sunlight in exchange for giving it to them in the afternoon is not a solution). Most people are at their creative and intellectual nadir around 4 PM anyway, so you may actually be doing the organization a favor by adopting a 6 hour workday. Not to mention that it would be a huge boost for morale.
Ok, but you’re the type that plays Oregon Trail on the “Grueling” speed setting. So what if John breaks his leg, Timothy gets cholera, or the oxen die? You want those extra 2 hours.
Fine. So either shift the workday later (you’ll still overlap with that 4 PM slump, it will still be dark and depressing when employees leave work, and now you’ll have to deal with the fact that you are coming between employees and their dinner, but they will have a chance to catch some morning sunlight), or schedule a time in the evening for employees to telecommute, if possible. Attention levels rise in the evening, before finally dipping about an hour before a person’s typical sleep time. It’s a circadian thing.
Assuming SAD is purely a physical problem that cannot be attenuated through social change is likely detrimental to the productivity of the workforce as a whole.