Organize Your Mind, Organize Your Life (13 page)

In this study, subjects were asked to perform a series of tasks that tested inhibitory control. The researchers then used neuroimaging to look at the brain activation patterns of the adults with ADHD, as compared to control subjects. While performing tasks, the subjects with ADHD used alternate brain activities to compensate for their inability to regulate. The implication here is that even for those with a disorder such as ADHD, the brain can perform, or at least muster the effort to attempt to perform, tasks involving inhibitory control.

THERE'S NO STOPPING THESE STUDIES

No one seems to be putting the brakes on the study of inhibition. It has really emerged as a focal point of research as more scientists and mental health professionals begin to realize its importance in understanding a whole host of healthy human behaviors—including our topic: the ability to stay organized.

So how do the scientists study this process? They use tasks that involve applying the cognitive and behavioral brakes. Two common tasks have quite appropriate, intuitive names: the “go/no-go” and “stop-signal” tasks.

In these tasks, subjects sit in front of a computer screen and have to respond to noises or pictures that emit and flash in front of them.
Simple instructions are given to isolate a specific brain function—such as sustained attention or inhibitory control.

In the stop-signal task, subjects are asked to identify a target as quickly as they can but then to cancel or inhibit their response with a so-called stop signal. Stop signals happen randomly, and as you can imagine, the closer one is to the point of no return—your hand is on the button, you are milliseconds away from pushing down on it—the harder it is to inhibit that response. Healthy persons usually need about 200 milliseconds of lead time in order to stop the response. So to subjects taking the test, the commands come across as “respond…respond…respond…respond… STOP!” Perhaps it's not unlike the boss who says “yes, that's right, that's good, excellent, thanks,” and then suddenly, “no, that's not it at all, you've done it all wrong!”

A similar test of inhibitory control is the go/no-go test, in which subjects respond quickly to specific “go” target letters on a computer screen and don't respond or inhibit a response to alternate “no-go” letters. These tasks assess one's ability to stop, to inhibit a response—whether it's in the process or has not yet begun. Think of the game “Red Light, Green Light” you used to play as a child. You would line up with a bunch of friends, and then someone would shout “Green light!” You would all walk forward as fast as you could until you heard the command “Red light!” and you would all try to stop on a dime. Perhaps you can remember some kids falling over, twitching and giggling as they tried to “freeze” and remain perfectly still. Whereas others reacted instantly and stood still as statues—and still others disregarded the signals altogether and forged ahead.

These cognitive tasks are similar to this classic childhood game—and the true victory is won by the person who can
stop
as quickly and effectively and efficiently as they can
go.

Scientists use these cognitive tasks in concert with the latest in neuroimaging tools to test a person's ability to stop, thereby learning about the brain activity that is responsible for this skill. Studies using a host of neuroimaging techniques have identified specific brain networks as critical in inhibition. Signals can move from one brain region to another—such as the frontal cortical region and the basal ganglia—in order to coordinate a successful “stop” response. Research is also considering how other factors, such as motivation or emotions, might influence inhibition.

Some researchers have likened this process of inhibition to a horse race. Imagine two horses jumping out of the gate and heading down the track. One is carrying the “go” signal, the other the “stop” signal. The “race” (the neural processes) is triggered by a possible “stop/go” situation. It's 6:00 pm; you're about to head home, and the phone in your office rings. You don't recognize the number on the caller ID. Should you pick it up or not? It's tempting. This could be something good…but on the other hand, you promised your spouse that you would stop on the way home to pick up some thing
s for dinner tonight. Could it wait until tomorrow? Or must you pick up that phone
now
? The race inside your brain is on! The “go” horse takes the early lead as your hand begins to move to the phone. But another nerve circuit—the “stop” horse—is gaining. Each bears a different message:

“Go…because you really want to know who's calling, don't you?”

Or:

“
Stop, because if you get embroiled in a call now, you'll mess up your family's dinner plans, and you can still get the message tomorrow.”

They're neck and neck; who's got the most cognitive juice to win this race? They come around the backstretch; it's going to be close. And the winner is…

Well, the winner is up to you. But in a sense it is a competition between brain signals racing through a circuit, between inhibitory control and no control.

If you want to get better organized, you must learn to obey the “stop” sign. But life is complex. Stopping at one time may be easier than another, depending on the context. For example, it may be easier to say “no” at work but not socially—or it may be influenced by your emotions at the moment, in which case frenzy can dictate the winner. So don't beat yourself up if you make a “go” decision that you realize later should have been “no-go.” Success in inhibitory control is not a one-horse race; it's how you manage it in the long run that counts.

CONTROLLED SWING

Let's take these cognitive tasks out of the controlled environment of the lab with subjects reacting to prompts while having their brain activity imaged. Sure, you push buttons at work all day and people push your buttons at home, but life is more complex than a series of “stop/go” signals, isn't it? You need to be able to inhibit more than a prompt on a computer screen, yes?

One group of researchers at Arizona State University examined inhibitory control as it applies to a more complex task: swinging a baseball bat. Think for a moment about the brain skill needed when you're up at the plate and a pitcher winds up to fire the ball in your direction. The fastball seems to be coming right over the plate. It looks like a pitch you could knock over the fence. Do you swing? Not so fast. It could be that the ball is about to tail off low and out of the strike zone. It could also be that this pitcher may throw high. Here comes the ball: do you swing or “stop swing”? Or perhaps you “check” swing—meaning a
halfway swing that you try to stop in midmotion once you determine that the pitch is out of the strike zone?

This interesting study, which examined what the researcher called this “complex, multistage” act of swinging a bat—and the circumstances that could lead one to stop fully, partially or not at all—reminds us that everyday life is a bit like being up at bat. It's rarely just “stop” or “go.” It's more like a long at-bat. There are check swings; there are hits and misses. You hesitate; you evaluate the situation and quickly assess the pros and cons of action versus inaction. It's also an evolving process; sometimes, new information becomes available. For the batter, it could be the motion or a look from the pitcher, a breeze that suddenly picks up or the signals flashed by the third-base coach. We're all getting such signals that have to be evaluated as we decide “go” or “no-go.”

Here's an example: the phone rings in your office, and as you reach to answer, a colleague passing by says “Don't pick it up. It's that pain-in-the-neck client from Acme Diagnostics. I know why he's calling…he just rang me, as well…and it's nothing you can help with.” You freeze. Should you pay attention to this signal? Why is that colleague telling you this? Is he certain it's the same caller? Do you pick up or not?

The batting experiment reminds us that inhibitory control is not necessarily an open-and-shut case—or to use baseball terminology, a case of balls and strikes. We need to pay attention to the signals. They may be complicated, but you can learn from them. We also need to be adaptable as circumstances change. Just because we chose “go” the last time in this situation doesn't mean we should the next time around.

Stop. Go. Answer the phone. Let it ring. Swing at the pitch. Don't swing. Check swing. Apply the brakes. Hit the gas. However we try to conceptualize it, the underlying concept—that your ability to know when to avoid jumping off task, to hold back, to temper the action with
thought and to avoid a ready-fire-aim response—is critical to getting through the busy days of your life.

Let's find out now how to do it better.

COACH MEG'S TIPS

When we succumb to our impulses, we are allowing our emotions to respond unchecked to a request for our attention and then to drive our behavior without stopping to think about our options and make a thoughtful choice. While our brain machinery is complicated, a simple formulation is that we are each unique when it comes to our natural and learned abilities to catch our impulses, activate a thinking process, appreciate the signals our emotions are sending us and make a conscious choice of what to do about this request for our attention.

The field of emotional intelligence has taught us much about how to self-regulate or self-manage our emotions—how to get into control, learn and direct our emotions in the most productive fashion. People vary widely in their abilities to be aware of and manage their emotions. Those with a lower level of ability will succumb more often to impulses, making an unhealthy choice like eating too many cookies, getting sidetracked by phone calls or texts, or lashing out prematurely or angrily at a slight by another.

Our ability to put on the mental brakes and regulate our emotions and behaviors also declines when our energy flags or when we are tired, hungry or stressed out. It can evaporate completely when we are gripped by strong emotions or feel helpless or vulnerable. So what can we do to put our brains in charge, honor our emotions and make the best choices?

Allow thinking and feeling to work to together

Earlier in the chapter, Dr. Hammerness used a horse-racing metaphor to describe the “go/stop” circuits of the brain. We'd like to return to the track to underscore an important point about how you can help manage those circuits and impulses to become better organized.

At our best, our thoughts and emotions work together like a well-trained team—like a world-class jockey and his horse. The jockey (thinking) is exquisitely present and sensitive to the needs of the horse (emotions) and how to make the most of the animal's talents. The horse feels the respect and sensitivity, doesn't take charge or rebel, and responds beautifully to support the jockey's drive to win a race.

When we overthink—when we ride or apply a lead foot to the cognitive brakes—we are like the jockey who holds back on the reins, denying his horse's desire to run and run fast. When, on the other hand, we allow our emotions to control us, without cognitive brakes, we are letting the thoroughbred run wild without the guidance and control of the jockey. Our thoughts, like the jockey, must stay in the saddle and work with the emotions in a sensitive, kind, respectful way, while sometimes asserting a firm hand, reining in the horse and applying the cognitive brakes.

Imagine a conversation with your teenage daughter about the colossal mess in her bedroom. She's upset because she has lost her cell phone, which is not surprising given the clutter and disorder in her room. You've lost count of the gazillion times you have asked her to clean it up. You walk into her room today and face not only the mess once again but also your daughter crying about the lost cell phone, which she swears she had last night when she came home. Your emotions heat up and feel unmanageable. You are about to unleash a stream of vitriol. “How many times have I told you to clean up this room? What are you thinking? Of course you can't find your phone in this chaos! How can you
ever find anything? Meanwhile, you have no problem bringing in new stuff, new clothes, to add to the mess. I can't stand this irresponsible behavior anymore.”

But hold on—pull back on those reins. The jockey—your thinking brain—now enters the process and steps on the brakes. Here, your brain needs to have a quick chat with your emotions. “Yes, we're very frustrated, and yes, we did tell her so. But all this yelling hasn't worked in the past and isn't likely to work now. It's only damaging the relationship with our daughter. She'll go off to college soon…do we want her to remember us as loving, supporting parents or as constant nags? So let's hold our tongue and instead help her locate the cell phone. And maybe at some point later, when everyone's cooled down, we can revisit this issue with her.”

Be careful about applying the brakes to impulses without acknowledging the emotions and sending them elsewhere in your brain to sit and fester. Don't try to be a robot. Those impulses aren't your enemy; they are your teammate, like having a colleague who is creative and spontaneous while you are prudent and self-controlled. Like that colleague—or like the jockey and his horse—you need each other for optimal success.

Don't be afraid to have a heart-to-head conversation

What the jockey really can't do is have a conversation with his horse. But your thinking brain and your emotional brain can and should have a brief tête-à-tête, especially in a potentially volatile situation.

Let's go to Dr. Hammerness's favorite place—the garage. You need to clear it out, and you've allocated sixty minutes because you have other things to attend to. But once you get involved in the job, you realize just how long you've neglected this chore and how much stuff there is out here, and your heart sinks. And as it does, it sends a message: