Fear is a Learned Response
Fear is a Learned Response
In 1920 a scientific experiment was performed on a baby
called Little Albert. John Watson
wanted to know if fear was a learned response.
He proved a point, but at what expense to Little Albert?
It is very easy for us to be appalled by what I’m about to share
with you. Do your best to set that
response aside just long enough to reflect on how this style of teaching may
have been practiced on you and the possibility that it has led you to have
perpetrated actions on people in your life that used this style of teaching. Boiled down, I am suggesting that we as
humans, teach what we have been taught, in the manner in which we have been
taught. The good news is that we can modify our behavior
once we become aware of it.
Little Albert was placed in a room with all manner of things
around him. One of those things was a
live rabbit. As it hopped around the
room, Little Albert crawled around after it trying to touch it. At one point a person stood behind Little
Albert and every time he was close to the rabbit; they clanged a pair of
cymbals. It did not take long to teach the
baby the fear of the rabbit. Pretty soon
all they had to do was to show him a rabbit and he would cry in fear.
Many of our parents were raised by people who used this
method of teaching because fear was quicker to learn and teach than critical
thinking. When people are living in
conditions where death occurs weekly, if not daily, they adapt or die. If they want their progeny to survive, they
adapt methods that will work quickly. These
methods rarely include any kind of compassion.
Most of our parents were raised
much more harshly than they raised us because their lives were improved by
modern conveniences, giving them a little more time to “live it up”. Some parents actually spent more quality
time with their kids while others spent more time in bars, or in some other way
trying to “feel good”.
In a nutshell, historically, critical thinking was taught to those expected to use it such as if
you were going to become a queen or person of power over people. Fear was taught to those who were expected to
live in servitude.
John Watson’s experiment showed the power of being taught by
fear. Who do you think of when you
ponder on critical thinking?
How many things can we look back on with shame? I’m not asking you to do a life review, I
simply want you to reflect on what could have taught you, that the behavior you
are now ashamed of, was okay? In my
case, I can’t point to one source. I can
point to many sources, but for almost everything I can honestly say fear was
the base for it. A parent acting from
fear is often harsher than needed. A
Sunday School teacher who is afraid of hell, will teach a harsher version of
God than is actually needed. A revival
pastor hopped up on the endorphins of a long-winded rant can press a point more
harshly than needed for adults but is permanently debilitating to
children. A grandmother fearful of
losing her son can speak more harshly of his wife than is called for. A stepmother steeped in the fear of
uncertainty can become a primal being making no logical sense.
Indirect actions can also cause fear. In my case, my mom preferred bars and parties
to kids, so she doubled her power over us by both being there and not being
there. The fear generated in us kept us from learning critical thinking. When we finally began to think for ourselves,
we were so full of self-pity that we leaned on blame to make our decisions. Until I could set blame aside, even blaming
myself for not being the perfect parent, I could not practice critical
thinking.
So now that I recognize that I’ve been traumatized by my
family of origin, what can I do about it?
The first thing I’ve done is allowed myself to see the perpetrators with
compassion. I’ve been able to see that
the people who harmed me were harmed by someone else. The people who treated me poorly were fearful
of loss and were reacting rather than acting.
Even those who were doing their best to be fair were acting from some
sort of righteousness that they were taught.
In order to heal from what I’ve been taught, now that I
understand the faults in it, I next have to exercise critical thinking. I have to do it. Not my husband, not my brother, not my son… I
have to do it.
Propaganda is not limited to politics. In fact, the origin
is from the Catholic church in 1622. It
wasn’t until the 19th century that the word was used to portray
questionable content. Here is the definition of propaganda: The systematic
propagation of a doctrine or cause or of information reflecting the views and
interest of those advocating such a doctrine or cause. Notice that there is no judgement in that
definition only a description.
What does critical thinking have to do with propaganda? It is what you use to dissect and process propaganda
and fear-based tactics.
Let’s say that a recipe is propaganda. This recipe is for apple pie. I follow all of the instructions to make the
pie and I put it in an oven to bake it.
After following the recipe exactly, I pull my pie from the oven to find
that it is only warm and not fully cooked.
The propaganda is a recipe but my brain is the oven. A critical thinker will determine that
something is wrong with the oven and the fear-based thinker will determine that
something is wrong with themselves.
The critical thinker will go on to research the problem and
determine the best way to solve it while a fear-based thinker will suffer
horribly while trying to get help. The
fear-based thinker can be temporarily soothed by someone else taking the burden
from them, but will often offer their worry and concern as their contribution
to the solution.
There are some pretty touchy subjects out there right
now. I have no intention of picking one
to discourse on but I do want to trigger your critical thinking powers.
How attached am I to the basic tenants that I grew up
with? Personally, I am almost completely
opposed to them, but as far as PTSD goes my brain has been branded like Little
Albert. That means that I have to
increase my critical thinking abilities.
It means that I have retrain my brain myself. That means I have to understand how the brain
is impacted. I remember a time when that
raised fear. There it is again, right
there, in front of me…fear. False
evidence appearing real.
How do I alleviate fear? I simply experience it. A couple of weeks ago, I chose to modify 2
screw heads rather than go to the hardware store. As I reached toward the grinder with the
screw that I held clamped in vice grips, I felt fear. I felt fear because I had a memory of the
sparks that fly from the grinding wheel when metal touches it, and because I
had a memory of something being gripped by the wheel and being ripped from my
hands. Both of those memories are linked
to pain. I considered the time and money
it would take for me to go to the hardware store. I don’t even know if they make that screw in
the long version with a smaller head.
Determination to complete my project (one I hesitate to share with
anyone who may share it with an electrician) gave me the courage to touch the
screw head to the grinder. I didn’t like
it, but I held it a little while. The
experience was awkward but I did it to the 2nd screw head as
well. I went back to my project only to
find the screw heads were still not small enough. I returned to the grinder. I still felt the fear but this time I also
was a little more proficient at what I was doing. I discovered the little bar to rest the work
on while grinding. I returned to the
project and the heads were still not right.
I went back to the grinder and I felt the fear rising but I ground the
screw head anyway. This time, I took the
one screw back in and tested to see if it fit through the hole. It didn’t fit but now I had advanced in my
thinking and checked for a fit before attempting the install again. By the fifth time I was able to stay with the
grinder in a cautious but comfortable manner and had a screw with the head size
I was aiming for close by for a comparison.
When I completed the job, my stomach was upside down, but it
worked. I don’t feel the pride I would
have had it all went together easily (the screws weren’t the first problem) and
the screws had been long enough in the first place, but I do feel the success
of facing fear. I didn’t try to squish
it. I was supposed to feel fear so that
I could acknowledge danger in what I was doing.
I allowed the fear to be with me as a companion, like a fire-watch, and
it kept me alert and safe. The fear was
not in charge.
Some of you have known me long enough to remember my 1949
Chevy Flatbed pickup. I was a young
woman with transportation and a desire to be up and about so I had motivation
to keep her on the road. There was a leak in the driver’s side rear wheel brake
line. I learned that when the brake
fluid got below a certain level no amount of pumping would stop my
vehicle. The first time this happened I
was on a dirt road on the side of a mountain, driving slowly, so I aimed at the
bank to stop my truck. I learned how to put brake fluid in my truck
and later at home I learned how to bleed my brakes. The second time it happened I was driving
somewhat faster while in Tacoma. I
shifted down hard and fast, pulled over and shut off the engine to stop the vehicle. The 3rd time it happened I was on
12 Street in Tacoma going down a hill toward a light that had just turned
yellow. I shifted down and made a right
turn just as the light turned red. I
made another hard right into a large empty parking lot where I shut off the
engine and shook for about 15 minutes. As
I look back on this memory, I am rapidly rolling down my window to signal with
my arm because my vehicle didn’t come stock with signal lights. I’m signaling, gearing down, and pumping my brakes
frantically hoping they would work, as I made the lightning fast decisions of
when to turn to keep control of my vehicle.
I can’t look at that memory without judgment, but I can clearly see that
I had determination. Yes, I did try to
fix my brakes but I could never free that rear cylinder so it never got
fixed. However, I did rebuild the other
three successfully.
Did I know I would lose my brakes? No, I found that I didn’t have any when I
went to stop. I never knew how long the
brake fluid would last so this happened several times. It didn’t take long for me to test my brakes
long before I had to stop so I would know the manner in which I would make the
truck stop in time to actually do it. The
first two times I lost my brakes coming down Pine Hill I was scared. I felt fear.
The third time, I didn’t feel fear.
I knew I would stop the truck just like usual. That was the last time I drove that
vehicle. I knew that my fear kept me
aware.
How did I have the guts to drive that truck after the first
time? It’s not about guts. It’s about fear. I was raised with fear. It was always my companion. Today I see clearly that it was one of my
dysfunctional partners. Today, fear and I
have discussions about why I’m feeling it and what I’m supposed to do with it.
Thank you for reading this post, ladies! As usual I remind you that you that we refuse to be defined by our circumstances!
Sincerely, Carmen
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