Monday, April 26, 2010

Faith, Religion, and Society, Part Two

The other day, Book Forum posted a collection of God and religion links, some of which are presented below. This is part two of two on these books and articles - part one is here.

The first one up is from Epiphenom: The Science of Religion and Non-Belief, a very interesting blog for those of you interested in this stuff.

Did world religions help bring about complex societies?

Read more.

OK, then, that should supply a couple of weeks of interesting reading.


Faith, Religion, and Society, Part One

The other day, Book Forum posted a collection of God and religion links, some of which are presented below. This is part one of two on these books and articles - the 2nd part when I get home from work.
The unbelievers
What happens when a minister decides there's no God?
By Drake Bennett

How likely is it that a member of the clergy might be an atheist as well — delivering the sermon and choosing the Bible passages, and afterward paying house calls to offer spiritual counsel to those in trouble and doubt, all without believing in God?

Daniel Dennett decided to find out. A leading philosopher of consciousness, a Tufts University professor, and a famously outspoken atheist, Dennett has for years been curious about the phenomenon of nonbelieving clergy. And now, working with a researcher and clinical social worker named Linda LaScola, he has embarked on a project to find and publicize their stories.

He doesn’t yet have data on how common the phenomenon is, but last month Dennett and LaScola published their first anecdotal results, a paper that appeared both in a scholarly journal, Evolutionary Psychology, and on The Washington Post’s website. The paper is an annotated set of excerpts from interviews with five ministers whom Dennett and LaScola found through personal contacts in the clergy, seminaries, and progressive Christian and atheist organizations. Unlike most of the clergy members the researchers contacted, these five agreed to tell their stories publicly, albeit under pseudonyms and with personal details changed.

Read more.

You can read the paper by Dennett and LaScola here. Here is the abstract, from Evolutionary Psychology – 2010. 8(1): 122-150:
Preachers Who Are Not Believers

Daniel C. Dennett, Center for Cognitive Studies, Tufts University, Medford, MA, USA. Email: Daniel.dennett@tufts.edu (Corresponding author).

Linda LaScola, LaScola Qualitative Research, 3900 Connecticut Avenue, NW 101F, Washington, DC 20008, USA.

Abstract: There are systemic features of contemporary Christianity that create an almost invisible class of non-believing clergy, ensnared in their ministries by a web of obligations, constraints, comforts, and community. Exemplars from five Protestant denominations, Southern Baptist, United Church of Christ, Presbyterian, Methodist and Church of Christ, were found and confidentially interviewed at length about their lives, religious education and indoctrination, aspirations, problems and ways of coping. The in-depth, qualitative interviews formed the basis for profiles of all five, together with general observations about their predicaments and how they got into them. The authors anticipate that the discussion generated on the Web (at On Faith, the Newsweek/Washington Post website on religion) and on other websites will facilitate a larger study that will enable the insights of this pilot study to be clarified, modified, and expanded.
The Humanist has a series of reviews of two new books:

Society without God: What the Least Religious Nations Can Tell Us about Contentment by Phil Zuckerman


Living Without God: New Directions for Atheists, Agnostics, Secularists, and the Undecided By Ronald Aronson

Good without God: What a Billion Nonreligious People Do Believe by Greg Epstein

The following are excerpts from the reviews, so follow the links to see the whole review.

Society without God: What the Least Religious Nations Can Tell Us about Contentment

by Phil Zuckerman
(New York University Press, 2008)
227 pp.; $35.00

Review by Ronald Aronson

As the tide of secular self-awareness and public discussion of nonbelief rises, Phil Zuckerman's latest book, Society without God, is not only a major contribution to the study of irreligion and religion today, it is an eye-opener for anyone who believes that religious societies have an advantage when it comes to health and happiness.

Zuckerman spent fourteen months in Denmark and Sweden between 2005 and 2006 interviewing 149 people at length about their religious and/or secular beliefs. It is, of course, widely known among secularists that a majority of people in both countries don’t believe in God, but Zuckerman’s interviews bring to life the reality of a society “in which the belief in God is muted, minimal, and marginal.” He presents excerpts from the interviews that allow us to understand how nontheists experience their lives and see themselves. He asks them about their family background, death, whether they believe in some form of afterlife, and their friends’ beliefs on such topics. We encounter people of various educational levels, professions, and ages, and they give us a mundane, ordinary collective image which, in the American context, turns out to be no less than sensational. These people live decent lives, raise their children, hold jobs, meet their obligations, face their strains and struggles—without God and without religion.

* * * * *

GOOD WITHOUT GOD

by Greg Epstein
Published in the November/December 2009 Humanist

"It's not easy to live a good life or be a good person—with or without a god," writes Harvard Humanist Chaplain Greg Epstein in the introduction to his new book, Good Without God: What a Billion Nonreligious People Do Believe." Tolerant, fair-minded people of all religions or none do not dwell on the question of whether we can be good without God," Epstein continues. "The answer is yes. Period. Millions and millions of people are, every day. However, the question why we can be good without God is much more relevant and interesting. And the question of how we can be good without God is absolutely crucial. Those are the questions in this book—the essential questions asked and answered by Humanism."

[The following section is excerpted from Chapter 6, "Good Without God in Community: The Heart of Humanism," with permission of the author and the publishers.]

Art, Nature, and Being Alive Twice

Another important and Humanistic alternative to prayer you don't need me to tell you about—but which is important to mention—is the appreciation of nature and the arts. Just as frequent reminders of the importance of compassion and the golden rule can be helpful (see chapter 4), we secular people can't be reminded too often that art and the natural world are always there waiting for us to appreciate and take part in them. A psychologist friend of mine likes to say that every Sunday he attends the "Church of the Blue Dome." Or as the eighth-century Chinese poet Li Po said to his friend and colleague Tu Fu, "Thank you for letting me read your new poems. It was like being alive twice." What, after all, is making or appreciating art if not taking what we find in the world around us—its radiant natural glory and toxic ugliness, our own love and hate, passion and ambivalence, anger and humor—and transforming it all into something that makes life more beautiful, more worthwhile? One finds this kind of sentiment again and again among great artists and Humanist lovers of art. Katha Pollitt, whom the right wing has labeled the "Atheist in Chief" at Nation magazine,has in fact written sensitively that atheism alone, as the rejection of gods and the supernatural, cannot meet our deepest human needs for connection and inspiration, but "perhaps art can go where atheism cannot." And musicologist Daniel Levitin gets at a similar idea in a beautiful chapter entitled "Comfort" in his book The World in Six Songs: How the Musical Brain Created Human Nature. The chapter is subtitled with some words a Joni Mitchell fan blurted out to her in gratitude while Mitchell and Levitin were eating dinner together one night. Explaining that Mitchell had helped her get through a rough decade in the 1970s, the fan said, "Before there was Prozac, there was you."

* * * * *

Living Without God: New Directions for Atheists, Agnostics, Secularists, and the Undecided

By Ronald Aronson
(Counterpoint Press, 2008)
288 pp.; $25.00

Review by Chris Brockman

In the introduction to Living Without God, Ronald Aronson assumes a problem that many religious skeptics would quickly dismiss as not their problem. And yet it’s one to which I suspect many would welcome a personal solution.

“To appreciate our problem,” Aronson writes, “atheists, agnostics, and skeptics need only recall the hesitation and stammering of their most recent personal conversation with anyone who is religious. Even after reading Harris, Dennett, Dawkins, and Hitchens, secularists have difficulty discussing what it is we believe in, if it’s not God.” Aronson, who is Distinguished Professor of the History of Ideas at Wayne State University, goes on to differentiate between what he calls the “principled tentativeness” of nonbelievers and the firm beliefs, morality, deep sense of belonging, and the “confidence in dealing with life’s mysteries and uncertainties,” of their religious counterparts. “Why,” he asks, “are we [nonbelievers] unable to be more persuasive? Besides disbelief, what do we have to offer? What should we tell our children and grandchildren as we see them swept up in a pervasively religious environment?”

Many disbelievers and nonbelievers would, I am sure, bristle a bit at this and say they do indeed have personal philosophies that replace and even go beyond religion, and humanism would surely be in the forefront. Yet the very terms nonbeliever, atheist, agnostic, and skeptic are negatives and don’t, in themselves, point towards any unifying set of positive principles. There was once the belief in progress that partly filled this role, Aronson avers, but that has become untenable or at least unsatisfying in the present.

* * * * *

The Reason “Everything Happens for a Reason”

by Ronald Aronson

The following is an excerpt from Living Without God: New Directions for Atheists, Agnostics, Secularists, and the Undecided by Ronald Aronson (Counterpoint Press, 2008)

Belonging to an impatient culture promising instant answers, often poorly equipped and overwhelmed, most people struggle to piece together their fragments of faith, knowledge, and experience as best they can. Some of the most curious spirits restlessly surf the Internet in hot pursuit of questions that their schooling has not helped them even to ask, let alone answer. They often begin by being rightly suspicious of all official stories and seeking more compelling explanations. In the infinite space of the web, with the whole culture at one’s fingertips, millions of answers cry out. It is the freest of all free markets, yet people are rarely trained to negotiate it.

With immense energy people search their way among gurus, conspiracy theories, spectacular short cuts, easy answers, the latest political scandal, parodies of ancient wisdom, pseudo-scholarship decked out in scientific trappings, real knowledge and thoughtful reflections, newfangled or eclipsed religious and political wisdom, every established and every insurgent point of view, and sheer nonsense--and they are free to consume and reassemble it as they wish.

* * * * *

More to come in part two later today.


Melvin Konner - The “New Biology” and “The Self”

http://artchive.com/artchive/p/picasso/self8.jpg

This is an interesting presentation from Dr. Konner - he has a new book out on play: The Evolution of Childhood: Relationships, Emotion, Mind.

This article was posted at his blog.

The “New Biology” and “The Self”

November 15th, 2009

A couple of weeks ago I posted some musings about “the self” in anticipation of being on a panel with Steven Pinker (author of The Blank Slate and The Stuff of Thought) and Noga Arikha (author of Passions and Tempers: A History of the Humours) at Tufts University. The panel, convened by Jonathan Wilson, was titled “The New Biology and the Self,” and what follows was my contribution. The graduate student referred to is Monica Chau of Emory University.

I told a very smart neurobiology graduate student named Monica yesterday that I’d been asked to speak on “The New Biology and the Self.” She said, “What’s the new biology?” I said, “I don’t know, but that’s the least of my problems. What’s the self?” Why I don’t know the answer to this one is legitimate to ask, but let’s just say it’s not because I haven’t been thinking about it since middle school.

I said to Monica, “Well, you probably use the word ‘myself,’ what do you mean?” She said, “It’s the part of me that’s unique, that no one else has. It’s also my consciousness, my private thoughts, my identity.” I thought that was about as good a definition as I could offer, although I added that the self is what you alone see, a kind of parallax shift from what others see and even measure, but what subjectivity allows only you to access.

Nevertheless, as Leopold Bloom muses in Joyce’s Ulysses, we do try rather desperately to “see ourselves as others see us”—we are intersubjective from childhood–and so every new outside measure of who we are has the power to change that parallax view.

As to my notion of “the new biology,” it has to include at least four things.

First, especially in this year of Darwin’s birthday and anniversary, it has to include the new evolutionary biology.

Second, it has to involve the new genomics, including personal genomics and ethnic tracing.

Third, it must take account of the revolution in brain imaging.

And, finally, it has to acknowledge the transformative and accelerating power of enhancement drugs.

So please indulge me while I try to figure out how these four kinds of facts might, for better and for worse, be changing our ineffable—our nearly unutterable–subjectivities.

From the time I ceased to be religious at 17, evolution has been my overarching narrative of origins, and to say it affects my sense of myself is putting it mildly. At the time of a famous debate between Thomas Huxley and the Bishop of Worcester, the bishop’s wife is supposed to have said, “Descended from apes! My dear, let us hope it is not so, but if it is, let us pray that it does not become generally known.”

This marvelous reflection declares a profound fear of the consequences of this particular piece of objective knowledge for the self writ large, the selves, as it were, of millions. I agree with her intuition that the consequences are momentous, but not that they are dire. Her first fond hope, alas, was not realized; it is indeed true. But her second hope, a prayer, remains alive, at least in the United States, where more than half of our fellow citizens reject this important fact.

But what’s new?

Too many things to list them all, but I will mention one. The October 2nd issue of Science contained 11 articles in which the great paleontologist Tim White and his many colleagues described in detail the fossil species Ardipithecus ramidus, unearthed in hundreds of specimens over two decades.

This species, interred by nature for over 4 million years, has now had its eternal rest disturbed, but it is taking revenge by disturbing our complacency. Walking upright on the ground, but with apelike feet for clambering in the trees, it is the clearest example of the transition we have so far, a million years before the justly famous “Lucy” species. The bishop’s wife, if she is listening, has never been more chagrined.

But the news doesn’t end there. Ardipithecus males are very similar to females—around the same size and with small canine teeth. This means they were not competing very fiercely for mating opportunities. In the light of neodarwinian models of behavior that have made many people think differently of late, this creates a new view of our origins.

It rules out, for example, an ancestor just like the chimpanzee, a species where males are brutal to females and, even fatally, to each other. It suggests instead that we arose from a species with less violence and more shared parental care of the young, which is looking more and more like a key to our evolution.

I don’t know how this will ultimately be resolved. Will the answer affect your view of yourself? I have to say it will affect mine. And in this case the “new” biology is more than 4 million years old.

Which brings me to a slight disagreement with Monica. While the self entails a uniquely private viewpoint, the mind it sees is not unique. Not just since Darwin but since Linnaeus, we have known that we share some things in common with all human beings, some with all apes, some with all mammals, and so on.

Part of the new genomics, different enough from genetics to deserve its new name, has been a clear confirmation of these shared heritages. But I used to say we were 99 percent chimpanzee, and I can’t any longer. Why? Because the past decade has revealed that much of what we called junk DNA is not junk at all, but is making RNAs that have crucial regulatory functions.

We have no idea as yet how much our regulatory RNA differs from that of apes, but we already know that their evolution has been exceptionally rapid, especially in the brain, where the complex, poorly understood hierarchy of our genomes controls the course of development.

Still, it is clear that the genome is widely shared among all humans, and that is why there are many universals of culture and mind. Cultural anthropologists like to stress the differences, but my two years among the !Kung Bushmen of Botswana made me think long and hard about the similarities. Modern humans arose in Africa over a hundred thousand years ago and spread throughout the world; we are one species, with different cultures but profoundly similar minds, and similar selves.

But that doesn’t mean there are no important differences, and that’s where personal genomics comes in. Steve has explored his own genes, and we all will have that option increasingly in the future. I learned in medical school and in life that few things separate people as illness does, and specific illnesses create exclusive clubs of shared subjective experience that almost entail new selves for the members.

What happens when you find out that you may be destined to join one of those clubs in the distant future? Well, if the club is one you can easily do something about—say, the Type 2 diabetes club—your self becomes an agent in changing your destiny. When there is little you can do—Alzheimer’s for example—other than doing away with yourself or buying long term care insurance (if you can still get it), does your self now include passivity and victimhood? I don’t know.

Not yet, but some day soon perhaps, personal genomics will tell us something about the things Noga studies—whether we are phlegmatic, say, or choleric, although we’ll use different words. What will this tell us? If your life has told you that you are a timid person, what will genetics add? a greater sense of calm about it? a new passivity in the face of something that might otherwise be changed?

What if you find you have a genetic tendency to exploit others? Will this lead you to want to change, or to justify what you do? The genomic self will raise many new questions.

It will also answer some. In between the selves we share with the species and the selves no one shares, there are intermediate sharings: identical twins, families, ethnic groups, and cultures. Finding ethnic origins in the genes is very important to some people, for example for some African-Americans. When you have had your origins torn away from you by oppressors, you may especially need to explore them. Listening to Henry Louis Gates, Oprah Winfrey, and others talk about what they found and how it affected them, it is impossible not to be moved.

But although Gates and, say, the rapper Diddy probably share ethnic genes, they belong to different cultures, and I suspect this is at least as important in their self-definition.

And this can easily go too far.
Read the rest of the article.


Google Personal Growth Series - Mindsight: The New Science of Personal Transformation

Yesterday I posted some excerpts from Dan Siegel's new book, Mindsight: The New Science of Personal Transformation, so here is Siegel giving a Google Tech Talk about the book. Thanks to Amanda for pointing me toward this video.
ABSTRACT

This interactive talk will examine two major questions: What is the mind? and How can we create a healthy mind? We'll examine the interactions among the mind, the brain, and human relationships and explore ways to create a healthy mind, an integrated brain, and mindful, empathic relationships. Here is one surprising finding: the vast majority (about 95%) of mental health practitioners around the globe, and even many scientists and philosophers focusing on the mind, do not have a definition of what the mind is! In this talk, well offer a working definition of the mind and practical implications for how to perceive and strengthen the mind itself—a learnable skill called mindsight. Then well build on this perspective to explore ways that the mind, the brain, and our relationships are influenced by digital information flow and also how they can be moved toward healthy functioning.

Presented by Daniel J. Siegel, M.D.




Paulo Roberto Silva e Souza - The Role of Sacramental Plants in Sustainable Communities in the Western Amazon

http://www.ayahuasca-shamanism.co.uk/EMMs-jour-QRRPFnew41-mr.jpg

An excellent Google Tech Talk.

ABSTRACT - The Role of Sacramental Plants in Sustainable Communities in the Western Amazon

Google Tech Talk
January 14, 2010

Presented by Paulo Roberto Silva e Souza.

The Amazon rainforest is an ancient and highly diverse ecosystem that provides essential benefits for our entire planet and everything that lives on it, breathes air and depends on water. This ecosystem is being destroyed and its existence is being threatened by unthinking greed in the form of cattle ranchers, the agriculture industry, logging, and the infrastructure required for these encroachments. The talk tells the stories of three communities living in the forest in sustainable ways as stewards with respect and emerging understanding of natures principles using the spiritual teachings transmitted through the use of sacramental plants: the Yawanawa tribe and the Santo Daime communities in Ceu do Mapia and Ceu do Mar. The common thread through the talk is the necessity for the social expansion of environmental consciousness and the ways that this can be facilitated in the minds and hearts of people living in the style of the Western World with its focus on acquisition and domination.

Paulo Roberto Silva e Souza received his degree in psychology from the University Gama Filho in Rio de Janeiro and began his professional carrier as a psychologist at the Pinel Hospital Suicide Prevention Center and the Ana Freud Clinic and Health Center Saint Romain in Rio de Janeiro. In 1976 he had first experiences with Santo Daime in Amazonia and was initiated by Padrinho Sebastiao. In 1982 he founded the first Santo Daime church outside of the Amazon in Rio de Janeiro which he still leads today. In 1985 he organized and led a multidisciplinary commission for the Brazilian government that conducted scientific research on the use of sacramental plants in the Acre and Amazonas states which led to the legalization of the church of Santo Daime in Brazil. As psychotherapist and shaman he introduced Daime ceremonies to 14 countries. In 1989 Paulo worked with IBAMA, the Brazilian Environmental Protection Agency, to preserve 1.6 million acres of national forests in the state of Amazonas, now the National Forests Mapiá, Inauini, and Purus. In conjunction with the UNEP-United Nations Environmental Program he implemented projects of environmental protection, forest extension and development for the Amazon. In 1994 he created the first National Heritage Private Reservation in Rio de Janeiro. He was a guest lecturer at Harvard University on environmental problems and solutions in Amazonia. Since 2008 he has been working on the project Eco Park Topo da Mata in the Natural Heritage Private Reservation.




Sunday, April 25, 2010

Jan Shepherd - What's Eating You? 5 Food-Thought Patterns and Their Effect

http://www.anxietyspecialist.co.uk/CBT-Co4.jpg

Nice article from The Huffington Post the other day. This topic is relevant to a lot of my female training clients (and a few men). The inability to eat well and healthy is seldom a lack of knowledge - it's almost always psychological and emotional.

In this brief article, Shepherd mentions five thought patterns that get people into trouble with their nutrition and eating habits.

What's Eating You? 5 Food-Thought Patterns and Their Effect

Posted: April 24, 2010 07:00 AM

Jan Shepherd

For most of my life, I was paralyzed by fear and anxiety. Fear of failure, fear of making mistakes and fear of expressing what I really felt and thought. So instead of participating in life, I built up and then hid behind 200 extra pounds. And to make certain I stayed stuck, I denied myself the permission to enjoy learning.

I thought I had to know the subject perfectly even before I studied it. As a consequence, the simple and natural act of learning (as well as anything to do with performance) created a state of almost constant anxiety and an inclination to say no to life. It wasn't until I discovered that it was my thinking that required a major overhaul that I was able to truly begin my journey of getting to my normal weight and staying there.

For me, it was finding what worked and what didn't. It was learning that my ego was what was fragile, not me. And it was my beliefs that were holding me back, not my mistakes or failures. If I believed that I was capable, mistakes would just be a blip on my radar and I would be much more likely to take risks. The breakthrough came when I found out that I could use positive beliefs to move forward on my path just as I had used distorted thinking to get me into and perpetuate my addictive cycle of yo-yo dieting.

There were two highly destructive distorted thinking patterns that drove me. The first was "polarized thinking" -- thinking things are black or white or good or bad. The idea that you have to be perfect or you're a failure. It is a place, unlike reality, with no middle ground. Once I switched that type of thinking, I knew I wouldn't collapse if I ate a cookie and one cookie wouldn't lead to me eating the whole bag. Any ol' set-back did not make a journey, it was just a step.

The second distorted pattern was "emotional reasoning" or believing that whatever you feel must be true. If you feel stupid and boring, then you must be stupid and boring. I kept believing I was inadequate even though I could converse with the smartest folks in the room, so I often just shut up. I don't know if that was because I was afraid of making a mistake or appearing foolish or both. I do know that I would then go home and stuff my face with food creating a 200 pound mistake by using that distorted thinking strategy. A very well known, highly successful friend of mine has a sign in her office that reads "Make A New Mistake Everyday." I can now take a deep breath and allow myself that luxury. And instead of weighing 350 I weigh 135.

The bottom line is that it's not only what you eat that is the cause of obesity, it's what's eating you and that change is only possible when we approach our lives and "problems" from many levels. Yes, I made wise food choices. But making wise thought choices has made it much easier for me to make wise food choices.

While this blog details two that were significant for me, there are many different types of distorted thinking patterns and limiting beliefs that keep people stuck whether or not they are struggling with eating disorders. I'd be happy to send you the complete list (Janshep@aol.com) which was given to me 12 years ago by Dr. Charles Portney, a well respected eating disorders psychiatrist. For now, here are five additional patterns. Are any of them keeping you stuck?

Filtering: Taking the negative details and magnifying them while filtering out all the positive aspects of a situation.

Personalization: Thinking everything people do or say is some kind of reaction to you.

Control Fallacies: Feeling externally controlled, seeing yourself as helpless.

Blaming: Holding yourself or others responsible for every problem.

Shoulds: Having a list of ironclad rules about how you and other people should act. People who break the rules anger you and you feel guilty if you violate them.

Benjamin Schwarz - Play’s the Thing (reviewing Melvin Konner's The Evolution of Childhood)

http://www.hup.harvard.edu/images/jackets/9780674045668-lg.jpg

Cool article from The Atlantic - the study of play in children (especially rough and tumble play in boys) is a rapidly emerging field of study. Schwarz is reviewing The Evolution of Childhood: Relationships, Emotion, Mind by Melvin Konner (check out his blog - there are lots of articles available as well).

Konner seems to be suggesting (and summarizing a ton of research in support of his hypothesis) that play is crucial to brain development in children - and he looks at that development in terms of the genome, the nervous system, society, and culture. I like this integrated approach to development.

Here is the publisher's blurb for the book:

This book is an intellectual tour de force: a comprehensive Darwinian interpretation of human development. Looking at the entire range of human evolutionary history, Melvin Konner tells the compelling and complex story of how cross-cultural and universal characteristics of our growth from infancy to adolescence became rooted in genetically inherited characteristics of the human brain.

All study of our evolution starts with one simple truth: human beings take an extraordinarily long time to grow up. What does this extended period of dependency have to do with human brain growth and social interactions? And why is play a sign of cognitive complexity, and a spur for cultural evolution? As Konner explores these questions, and topics ranging from bipedal walking to incest taboos, he firmly lays the foundations of psychology in biology.

As his book eloquently explains, human learning and the greatest human intellectual accomplishments are rooted in our inherited capacity for attachments to each other. In our love of those we learn from, we find our way as individuals and as a species. Never before has this intersection of the biology and psychology of childhood been so brilliantly described.

“Nothing in biology makes sense except in the light of evolution,” wrote Dobzhansky. In this remarkable book, Melvin Konner shows that nothing in childhood makes sense except in the light of evolution.

And now the review.

Play’s the Thing

A new book argues that play may be the primary means nature has found to develop our brains.

By Benjamin Schwarz

Image credit: Steve Bonini/IPN/Aurora Photos

This monumental book—more than 900 pages long, 30 years in the making, at once grand and intricate, breathtakingly inclusive and painstakingly particular—exhaustively explores the biological evolution of human behavior and specifically the behavior of children. Melvin Konner, an anthropologist and neuroscientist at Emory, weaves a compelling web of theories and studies across a remarkable array of disciplines, from experimental genetics to ethnology. He ranges back to the earliest, egg-laying mammals, discusses topics as seemingly modern as cross-gender identity conflicts, and draws on scientific work examining all manner of species with which humans share distinct characteristics. (In the way we teach our young, for instance, Konner points out that we resemble cats large and small far more than we do our closer genetic relatives, the large primates.) The organization of these disparate puzzle pieces is itself a tour de force. Though the sheer volume of information and the not infrequent appearance of terms like synaptogenesis and N-methyl-D-aspartate glutamate receptor can be daunting, Konner’s style is conversational (if sometimes occluded) and his tone is, well, kind. To read this book is to be in the company of a helpful and hopeful teacher who is eager to share what he’s found.

Dividing the book into four often overlapping “levels of observation”—the genome, the nervous system, society, and culture—Konner assesses the development of the brain from the first vertebrates through the hominins, with their slow-growing, enormous, super-energetic brains. This development depended on a high-quality diet of fruit and then cooked foods, both plant and animal, and particularly aquatic fauna—not to mention the grandmothers and other “helpers at the nest” who ensured that children were fed. In fact, human brains are so large that were they to reach full size in utero, women’s bodies would not be able to deliver them. Much of the brain’s growth occurs after birth: the human brain more than doubles in volume during the first 12 postnatal months, and nearly doubles again over the subsequent 12 months. This means that infants, with their far from fully developed brains, are extraordinarily helpless for a long period after birth. One reason humans evolved into creatures that walked upright may have been so that mothers could carry offspring who could not yet cling to them.

Konner then explores the genetic and neurological foundations of basic temperament and gender identity and of formative behaviors such as infant attachment and the acquisition of language, and he describes the interrelationship between the biology and psychology of puberty. Unlike animals that hurtle from infancy to puberty, the humans who have escaped the risks of infancy but not yet embarked on the risks of adulthood experience a sort of mini-transformation during the “five-to-seven shift,” and emerge with markedly enhanced powers of cognition into a period of slow growth. This prolonged halcyon phase, sandwiched between the confusion of early life and the intensity of adolescence, seems evolutionarily designed to imbue children with the culture that our enormous brains make possible—the culture that our species (almost) alone can claim.

The sine qua non of culture is socialization, a process we share with many other species. For mammals, it begins with an extreme bond between mother and offspring—a bond that has existed since early in the age of the dinosaurs, when even the infants of egg-laying mammals could feed directly from their mothers’ bodies and demand attention by crying. (Mammalian young cried at high pitches that their mothers could hear but reptilian predators could not.) Although the mother-child bond forms the core relationship, we are cooperative breeders. There is “ample evidence,” developed most prominently by the pathbreaking anthropologist Sarah Blaffer Hrdy, that “human mothers have always gotten help” from fathers, grandmothers, older siblings, and other relatives. Still, some evidence suggests that kinship is not the be-all and end-all it is often believed to be. Research on the !Kung hunter-gatherer society, for example, shows no particular advantage to having a full complement of parents and grandparents, and in cases in which children have few kin, other adults apparently take up the slack, supporting the idea that indeed, it takes a village. Crucially, the many years that human females live after menopause confer a unique advantage on the species, in that grandmothers are almost always involved in child care, allowing their children, particularly their daughters, to produce more and healthier children.

Konner is especially interested in play, which is not unique to humans and, indeed, seems to have been present, like the mother-offspring bond, from the dawn of mammals. The smartest mammals are the most playful, so these traits have apparently evolved together. Play, Konner says, “combining as it does great energy expenditure and risk with apparent pointlessness, is a central paradox of evolutionary biology.” It seems to have multiple functions—exercise, learning, sharpening skills—and the positive emotions it invokes may be an adaptation that encourages us to try new things and learn with more flexibility. In fact, it may be the primary means nature has found to develop our brains.

Finally, Konner argues that even if culture is as subject to the laws of evolution as other aspects of physiology and behavior, it is, in its complex forms, unique to our species. (He does emphasize, however, that humans share with other animals a host of qualities and emotions—love, grief, altruism, heroism, loyalty, shame, dignity, awe, thought—that have wrongly been ascribed to humans alone.) Humans may not be the only ones who teach, but we alone create and build in a cumulative way, and we alone suspend ourselves in “webs of significance we ourselves have spun,” as Konner, borrowing from Clifford Geertz, elegantly puts it.

Ultimately, Konner is attempting to construct a sort of theory that encompasses all of human life. The evolutionary processes he describes are the way in which at every level—the genome, the nervous system, society, and culture—we, who carry along information accumulated over billions of years, continually interact with the environment, and thereby learn and change in response to it. Children, who are shaping and organizing their very selves, experience this most powerfully. And it should not be surprising, he speculates, if children—in the midst of the most exploratory phase of human life, thanks to “their huge, fast-growing, thoroughly dynamic brains”—have throughout the history of the species often been at the vanguard of cultural innovation.

This book is the flower of an astoundingly productive and innovative period of scholarship on evolutionary behavior; it sums up a generation’s worth of thinking and research. But although a work of singular importance, it’s not flawless. Konner’s efforts sometimes flag: his writing fails to sustain a consistent precision and focus. Relatedly, at times Konner seems overwhelmed by the encyclopedic nature of his project. When he sifts and assesses evidence, he’s always judicious and often brilliantly imaginative. Too often, though, The Evolution of Childhood reads like a compilation of research and findings rather than a work that distills that material to create an elegant synthesis—this book hasn’t been subjected to the rigorous and comprehensive editing that a work of such significance demands. But only a book of such staggering ambition can be faulted for failing to achieve consistent greatness.

Daniel Siegel's Mindsight: The New Science of Personal Transformation (Excerpts)

I just recently bought Mindsight: The New Science of Personal Transformation and am looking forward to reading it. In the meantime, here are some excerpts posted at Siegel's web page to promote the book.

http://drdansiegel.com/images/Mindsight_LG.jpg

Table of Contents

PART I • THE PATH TO WELL-BEING: Mindsight Illuminated

1 • A Broken Brain, a Lost Soul:
The Triangle of Well-Being
Minding the Brain: The Brain in the Palm of Your Hand
2 • Crepes of Wrath:
Mindsight Lost and Found
Minding the Brain: Neuroplasticity in a Nutshell
3 • Leaving the Ether Dome:
Where Is the Mind?
Minding the Brain: Riding the Resonance Circuits
4 • The Complexity Choir:
Discovering the Harmony of Health

PART II • THE POWER TO CHANGE: Mindsight in Action

5 • A Roller-Coaster Mind:
Strengthening the Hub of Awareness
6 • Half a Brain in Hiding:
Balancing Left and Right
7 • Cut Off from the Neck Down:
Reconnecting the Mind and the Body
8 • Prisoners of the Past:
Memory, Trauma, and Recovery
9 • Making Sense of Our Lives:
Attachment and the Storytelling Brain
10 • Our Multiple Selves:
Getting in Touch with the Core
11 • The Neurobiology of “We”:
Becoming Advocates for One Another
12 • Time and Tides:
Confronting Uncertainty and Mortality

Epilogue • Widening the Circle: Expanding the Self
Acknowledgments
Appendix
Notes
Index


Diving into the Sea Inside

Within each of us there is an internal mental world—what I have come to think of as the sea inside—that is a wonderfully rich place, filled with thoughts and feelings, memories and dreams, hopes and wishes. Of course it can also be a turbulent place, where we experience the dark side of all those wonderful feelings and thoughts—fears, sorrows, dreads, regrets, nightmares. When this inner sea seems to crash in on us, threatening to drag us down below to the dark depths, it can make us feel as if we are drowning. Who among us has not at one time or another felt overwhelmed by the sensations from within our own minds? Sometimes these feelings are just a passing thing—a bad day at work, a fight with someone we love, an attack of nerves about a test we have to take or a presentation we have to give, or just an inexplicable case of the blues for a day or two. But sometimes they seem to be something much more intractable, so much part of the very essence of who we are that it may not even occur to us that we can change them. This is where the skill that I have called “mindsight” comes in, for mindsight, once mastered, is a truly transformational tool. Mindsight has the potential to free us from patterns of mind that are getting in the way of living our lives to the fullest.

WHAT IS MINDSIGHT?

Mindsight is a kind of focused attention that allows us to see the internal workings of our own minds. It helps us to be aware of our mental processes without being swept away by them, enables us to get ourselves off the autopilot of ingrained behaviors and habitual responses, and moves us beyond the reactive emotional loops we all have a tendency to get trapped in. It lets us “name and tame” the emotions we are experiencing, rather than being overwhelmed by them. Consider the difference between saying “I am sad” and “I feel sad.” Similar as those two statements may seem, there is actually a profound difference between them. “I am sad” is a kind of self-definition, and a very limiting one. “I feel sad” suggests the ability to recognize and acknowledge a feeling, without being consumed by it. The focusing skills that are part of mindsight make it possible to see what is inside, to accept it, and in the accepting to let it go, and, finally, to transform it.

You can also think of mindsight as a very special lens that gives us the capacity to perceive the mind with greater clarity than ever before. This lens is something that virtually everyone can develop, and once we have it we can dive deeply into the mental sea inside, exploring our own inner lives and those of others. A uniquely human ability, mindsight allows us to examine closely, in detail and in depth, the processes by which we think, feel, and behave. And it allows us to reshape and redirect our inner experiences so that we have more freedom of choice in our everyday actions, more power to create the future, to become the author of our own story. Another way to put it is that mindsight is the basic skill that underlies everything we mean when we speak of having social and emotional intelligence.

Interestingly enough, we now know from the findings of neuroscience that the mental and emotional changes we can create through cultivation of the skill of mindsight are transformational at the very physical level of the brain. By developing the ability to focus our attention on our internal world, we are picking up a “scalpel” we can use to resculpt our neural pathways, stimulating the growth of areas of the brain that are crucial to mental health. I will talk a lot about this in the chapters that follow because I believe that a basic understanding of how the brain works helps people see how much potential there is for change.

But change never just happens. It’s something we have to work at. Though the ability to navigate the inner sea of our minds—to have mindsight—is our birthright, and some of us, for reasons that will become clear later, have a lot more of it than others, it does not come automatically, any more than being born with muscles makes us athletes. The scientific reality is that we need certain experiences to develop this essential human capacity. I like to say that parents and other caregivers offer us our first swimming lessons in that inner sea, and if we’ve been fortunate enough to have nurturing relationships early in life, we’ve developed the basics of mindsight on which we can build. But even if such early support was lacking, there are specific activities and experiences that can nurture mindsight throughout the lifespan. As you will see, mindsight is a form of expertise that can be honed in each of us, whatever our early history.

When I first began to explore the nature of the mind professionally, there was no term in our everyday language that captured the way we perceive our thoughts, feelings, sensations, memories, beliefs, attitudes, hopes, dreams, and fantasies. Of course, these activities of the mind fill our day-to-day lives—we don’t need to learn a skill in order to experience them. But how do we actually develop the ability to perceive a thought—not just have one—and to know it as an activity of our minds so that we are not taken over by it? How can we be receptive to the mind’s riches and not just reactive to its reflexes? How can we direct our thoughts and feelings rather than be driven by them? And how can we know the minds of others, so that we truly understand “where they are coming from” and can respond more effectively and compassionately? When I was a young psychiatrist, there weren’t many readily accessible scientific or even clinical terms to describe the whole of this ability. To be able to help my patients, I coined the term mindsight so that together we could discuss this important ability that allows us to see and shape the inner workings of our own minds.

Our first five senses allow us to perceive the outside world—to hear a bird’s song or a snake’s warning rattle, to make our way down a busy street or smell the warming earth of spring. What has been called our sixth sense allows us to perceive our internal bodily states—the quickly beating heart that signals fear or excitement, the sensation of butterflies in our stomach, the pain that demands our attention. Mindsight, our ability to look within and perceive the mind, to reflect on our experience, is every bit as essential to our well-being. Mindsight is our seventh sense.

As I hope to show you in this book, this essential skill can help us build social and emotional brainpower, move our lives from disorder to well-being, and create satisfying relationships filled with connection and compassion. Business and government leaders have told me that understanding how the mind functions in groups has helped them be more effective and enabled their organizations to become more productive. Clinicians in medicine and mental health have said that mindsight has changed the way they approach their patients, and that putting the mind at the heart of their healing work has helped them create novel and useful interventions. Teachers introduced to mindsight have learned to “teach with the brain in mind” and are reaching and teaching their students in deeper and more lasting ways.

In our individual lives, mindsight offers us the opportunity to explore the subjective essence of who we are, to create a life of deeper meaning with a richer and more understandable internal world. With mindsight we are better able to balance our emotions, achieving an internal equilibrium that enables us to cope with the small and large stresses of our lives. Through our ability to focus attention, mindsight also helps the body and brain achieve homeostasis—the internal balance, coordination, and adaptiveness that forms the core of health. Finally, mindsight can improve our relationships with our friends, colleagues, spouses, and children—and even the relationship we have with our own selves.

A NEW APPROACH TO WELL-BEING

Everything that follows rests on three fundamental principles. The first is that mindsight can be cultivated through very practical steps. This means that creating well-being—in our mental life, in our close relationships, and even in our bodies—is a learnable skill. Each chapter of this book explores these skills, from basic to advanced, for navigating the sea inside.

Second, as mentioned above, when we develop the skill of mindsight, we actually change the physical structure of the brain. Developing the lens that enables us to see the mind more clearly stimulates the brain to grow important new connections. This revelation is based on one of the most exciting scientific discoveries of the last twenty years: How we focus our attention shapes the structure of the brain. Neuroscience supports the idea that developing the reflective skills of mindsight activates the very circuits that create resilience and well-being and that underlie empathy and compassion as well. Neuroscience has also definitively shown that we can grow these new connections throughout our lives, not just in childhood. The short Minding the Brain sections interspersed through out part 1 are a traveler’s guide to this new territory.

The third principle is at the heart of my work as a psychotherapist, educator, and scientist. Well-being emerges when we create connections in our lives—when we learn to use mindsight to help the brain achieve and maintain integration, a process by which separate elements are linked together into a working whole. I know this may sound both unfamiliar and abstract at first, but I hope you’ll soon find that it is a natural and useful way of thinking about our lives. For example, integration is at the heart of how we connect to one another in healthy ways, honoring one another’s differences while keeping our lines of communication wide open. Linking separate entities to one another—integration—is also important for releasing the creativity that emerges when the left and right sides of the brain are functioning together.

Integration enables us to be flexible and free; the lack of such connections promotes a life that is either rigid or chaotic, stuck and dull on the one hand or explosive and unpredictable on the other. With the connecting freedom of integration comes a sense of vitality and the ease of well-being. Without integration we can become imprisoned in behavioral ruts—anxiety and depression, greed, obsession, and addiction.

By acquiring mindsight skills, we can alter the way the mind functions and move our lives toward integration, away from these extremes of chaos or rigidity. With mindsight we are able to focus our mind in ways that literally integrate the brain and move it toward resilience and health.

MINDSIGHT MISUNDERSTOOD

It’s wonderful to receive an email from an audience member or patient who says, “My whole view of reality has changed.” But not everyone new to mindsight gets it right away. Some people are concerned that it’s just another way to become more self-absorbed—a form of navel-gazing, of becoming preoccupied with “reflection” instead of living fully. Perhaps you’ve also read some of the recent research (or the ancient wisdom) that tells us that happiness depends on “getting out of yourself.” Does mindsight turn us away from this greater good? While it is true that being self-obsessed decreases happiness, mindsight actually frees you to become less self-absorbed, not more. When we are not taken over by our thoughts and feelings, we can become clearer in our own internal world as well as more receptive to the inner world of another. Scientific studies support this idea, revealing that individuals with more mindsight skills show more interest and empathy toward others. Research has also clearly shown that mindsight supports not only internal and interpersonal well-being but also greater effectiveness and achievement in school and work.

Another quite poignant concern about mindsight came up one day when I was talking with a group of teachers. “How can you ask us to have children reflect on their own minds?” one teacher said to me. “Isn’t that opening a Pandora’s box?” Recall that when Pandora’s box was opened, all the troubles of humanity flew out. Is this how we imagine our inner lives or the inner lives of our children? In my own experience, a great transformation begins when we look at our minds with curiosity and respect rather than fear and avoidance. Inviting our thoughts and feelings into awareness allows us to learn from them rather than be driven by them. We can calm them without ignoring them; we can hear their wisdom without being terrified by their screaming voices. And as you will see in some of the stories in this book, even surprisingly young children can develop the ability to pause and make choices about how to act when they are more aware of their impulses.

HOW DO WE CULTIVATE MINDSIGHT?

Mindsight is not an all-or-nothing ability, something you either have or don’t have. As a form of expertise, mindsight can be developed when we put in effort, time, and practice.

Most people come into the world with the brain potential to develop mindsight, but the neural circuits that underlie it need experiences to develop properly. For some—such as those with autism and related neurological conditions—the neural circuits of mindsight may not develop well even with the best caregiving. In most children, however, the ability to see the mind develops through everyday interactions with others, especially through attentive communication with parents and caregivers. When adults are in tune with a child, when they reflect back to the child an accurate picture of his internal world, he comes to sense his own mind with clarity. This is the foundation of mindsight. Neuroscientists are now identifying the circuits of the brain that participate in this intimate dance and exploring how a caregiver’s attunement to the child’s internal world stimulates the development of those neural circuits.

If parents are unresponsive, distant, or confusing in their responses, however, their lack of attunement means that they cannot reflect back to the child an accurate picture of the child’s inner world. In this case, research suggests, the child’s mindsight lens may become cloudy or distorted. The child may then be able to see only part of the sea inside, or see it dimly. Or the child may develop a lens that sees well but is fragile, easily disrupted by stress and intense emotions.

The good news is that whatever our early history, it is never too late to stimulate the growth of the neural fibers that enable mindsight to flourish. You’ll soon meet a ninety-two-year-old man who was able to overcome a painful and twisted childhood to emerge a mindsight maven. Here we see living evidence for another exciting discovery of modern neuroscience: that the brain never stops growing in response to experience. And this is true for people with happy childhoods, too. Even if we had positive relationships with our caregivers and parents early on—and even if we write books on the subject—we can continue as long as we live to keep developing our vital seventh sense and promoting the connections and integration that are at the heart of well-being.

We’ll begin our journey in part 1 by exploring situations in which the vital skills of mindsight are absent. These stories reveal how seeing the mind clearly and being able to alter how it functions are essential elements in the path toward well-being. Part 1 is the more theoretical section of the book, where I explain the basic concepts, give readers an introduction to brain science, and offer working definitions of the mind and mental health. Since I know that my readers will come from a wide variety of backgrounds and interests, I realize that some of you may want to skim or even skip much of that material in order to move directly to part 2. In part 2, we’ll dive deeply into stories from my practice that illustrate the steps involved in developing the skills of mindsight. This is the section of the book in which I share the knowledge and practical skills that will help people understand how to shape their own minds toward health. At the very end of the book is an appendix outlining the fundamental concepts and a set of endnotes with the scientific resources supporting these ideas.

Our exploration of mindsight begins with the story of a family that changed my own life and my entire approach to psychotherapy. Looking for ways to help them inspired me to search for new answers to some painful questions about what happens when mindsight is lost. It also led to my search for the techniques that can enable us to reclaim and recreate mindsight in ourselves, our children, and our communities. I hope you’ll join me on this journey into the inner sea. Within those depths awaits a vast world of possibility.

Now go buy the book.

Peter D. Kramer - One Man’s Trash . . . (On Hoarding)

I reviewed the excellent Stuff: Compulsive Hoarding and the Meaning of Things, by Randy O. Frost and Gail Steketee a month or two ago. Now the New York Times has offered up a review.


One Man’s Trash . . .

Published: April 23, 2010

Working with a patient he calls Debra, a compulsive hoarder, the psychologist Randy O. Frost tried a simple experiment. Frost proposed sending Debra a postcard, blank but for the name and address. Debra’s assignment was to throw it away.

Days later, Debra complained that she had not had enough time with the card. She described the stamp and the postmark. When she finally let go, she pictured the card’s position in the trash. Later, she confessed she had cheated by writing down everything about the card she could remember and then saving the notes.

In “Stuff: Compulsive Hoarding and the Meaning of Things,” Frost, a professor at Smith College, and Gail Steketee, a professor and dean of the school of social work at Boston University, invite us graciously into territory that might otherwise make us squirm. They have spent nearly 20 years working with hoarders, sometimes in settings where tunnels lead through trash and roaches roam freely. Frost and Steketee introduce collectors who acquire through shopping, Dumpster diving and stealing. The resulting assemblages encompass broken machines and living things (cats and dogs, mostly).

People justify hoarding as curating and recycling, deeming odd objects beautiful and useful. Sometimes they act as if history were at stake. Andy Warhol, “straddling the border between eccentricity and pathology,” the authors write, would periodically sweep everything — cash, artwork, apple cores — off his desk and into a cardboard box. He stored hundreds of these “time capsules.”

To characterize hoarding, Frost and Steketee select what they call a “prototype” case involving a woman named Irene. Irene’s home is filled with seemingly random items: newspapers, children’s games, empty cereal boxes, expired coupons. The mess has driven Irene’s husband from the house, and she worries that he will seek custody of their children, including a daughter whose dust allergies make it hard for her to live there.

To Frost and Steketee, patients like Irene demand a new understanding of hoarders. Past experts have depicted sufferers as isolated and paranoid — deprived in childhood and now unable to discard worthless junk even when it bears no sentimental value. But Irene’s parents were comfortable financially. She has many friends. She treasures each item she owns and anticipates putting it to future use.

Hoarding has been linked to obsessive-compulsive disorder and its variants, and Irene, who displays contamination fears, probably meets criteria for O.C.D. But studies show that the genetics of hoarding differ from the genetics of obsessing. And while obsessionality is painful, Irene finds enjoyment in acquiring and revisiting her holdings. It is this pleasure in objects (think of Debra and the postcard) that distinguishes hoarding, in Frost and Steketee’s view. They suggest that hoarders may “inherit an intense perceptual sensitivity to visual details,” and speculate about “a special form of creativity and an appreciation for the aesthetics of everyday things.”

This upbeat account of hoarding’s basis has a humane ring: hoarders are discerning. But then, Irene can be indiscriminate, according every possession equal worth, whether it’s a newspaper clipping or a photograph of her daughter. Frost and Steketee are too thoughtful to give a simple account of what drives Irene. Possessions help her preserve her identity and relive past events. The objects make her feel safe and allow her to express caring. Newspaper clippings point outward, speaking to Irene of opportunities in the wider world. Irene is depressed; collecting promises relief. Irene displays perfectionism and indecisiveness, character traits that have been linked to hoarding. When there are so many motivations, no single one seems central.

Hoarding can also arise in connection with senility, injuries to the brain’s frontal lobes and Prader-Willi syndrome, a genetic disorder whose symptoms may include low intelligence. Ideally, any theory that ascribes a special aesthetic sensibility to hoarders would need to take account of patients whose thought processes are impaired. And as Frost and Steketee demonstrate, there is no end to competing explanations of how hoarding arises. The “terror management theory” holds that collecting mitigates fears of death, via the fashioning of a form of immortality. The “compensation theory” postulates that objects can provide reassurance to those who question their self-worth. Hoarding has been linked to gambling addiction; acquisition is a matter less of compulsion than of impulsivity. Frost and Steketee also connect hoarding with modern materialism and advertising (though they stress that materialism is associated with display and hoarding with secrecy); then again, they emphasize the condition’s universality.

Certainly, collecting is a common human activity. One hoard, 1,100 seal impressions on clay from the Fertile Crescent, has survived 25 centuries. As many as 90 percent of children collect something, Frost and Steketee report, and two-thirds of American households include a collector.

What separates pastime from disorder? Frost and Steketee rely on distress and impairment, criteria that psychiatry employs to delineate diagnoses. But some of the subjects Frost and Steketee discuss function well enough. What of the wealthy, cultured twins, each of whom has stuffed a hotel penthouse with moldering artwork? Both brothers have friends. Both can afford to move to new apartments as old ones fill up. Both take pride in their collections. Are the twins ill? If not, is it resources that set them apart from Irene, who is struggling to hold on to her children? It seems paradoxical that if one twin were to become desperate because he recognized that he had lost control, he might be labeled a pathological hoarder, while his brother, blithely rationalizing his purchases, would be deemed healthy.

As Frost and Steketee’s examples multiply, hoarding comes to seem an ever more diffuse concept. A majority of the subjects the authors study are clinically depressed. Frost and Steketee believe that hoarding causes the mood disorder. Working in different terrain, I see patients who complain first of depression. Twice, I have treated women who lived amid clutter because they could not discard the detritus of daily life, be it magazines or pay slips. I had no success with the filled rooms. But both times we made progress with the depression, and both times the patient moved, for business reasons. In the new house, each managed to keep up with the flow of paper.

Frost and Steketee, with their active collectors, do not see this sort of result. Forced clean-outs don’t work; hoarders restock houses quickly, and the sudden loss of objects causes rage and anxiety. (Nantucket, we learn, stopped town-­ordered cleanups when three hoarders died shortly after the interventions.) Frost and Steketee recommend self-help groups and variants of cognitive therapy to treat hoarding. Success is mixed. Clients report improvement, but their homes remain cluttered. One O.C.D. researcher tells Frost and Steketee that she excludes hoarders from her samples because they make therapy outcomes look bad — quite a statement when you consider that she is confronting a notoriously unyielding disease.

If Frost and Steketee have difficulty constructing a coherent new vision of compulsive hoarding, it is because they are too observant and too dedicated to the relief of suffering to make a complex phenomenon simple. They are collectors in their own right, stocking a cabinet of curiosities with intimate stories and evocative theories. To those who need to understand hoarders, perhaps in their own family, “Stuff” offers perspective. For general readers, it is likely to provide useful stimulus for examining how we form and justify our own attachments to objects.

Peter D. Kramer, a psychiatrist, is the author of “Against Depression” and, most recently, “Freud: Inventor of the Modern Mind.”