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Your
Brain on Hyperspeed
By
John Dicker
Blink:
The Power of Thinking Without Thinking
By Malcolm Gladwell
Little
Brown, 254 pages, $25.95
Knee-jerk opinion has a bad rap. Context is overrated. Everything
we need to know is not imparted in kindergarten, college or
the gnarliest of Buddhist retreats. Rather, in a few breathless
seconds we process information and make decisions with far
greater proficiency than anyone gives us credit for. Or so
goes the premise of Malcolm Gladwell’s fascinating if not
entirely convincing new book, Blink: The Power of Thinking
Without Thinking.
Like The Tipping Point, Gladwell’s best-selling debut,
Blink is about the small stuff and why it’s worth sweating.
The example held up as the apotheosis of “blink think” is
a forgotten footnote of art history: the Getty Museum’s acquisition
of a rare kouros statue in the early 1980s. Abetted by stereomicroscopes,
geologists gave the statue their imprimatur as being authentic;
and without anything more than a cold stare, a host of sculpture
experts concluded it was a fraud within seconds. Because of
this split, the controversy was kept alive for years. Ultimately,
lawyers for the Getty proved the statue was a forgery through
flaws in its documentation.
So how can an assortment of art experts instantly see something
that trained scientists can’t? This question is what Gladwell
is so fascinated by and what Blink is ultimately about.
The answer, Gladwell explains, is “thin slicing”: the unconscious
mind’s ability to perform complex analysis at warp speed based
on only limited patterns of personal experience. It’s part
of an emerging field in psychology devoted to the “adaptive
unconscious,” or the CPU-like part of our brains responsible
for quick decisions.
Gladwell is at his best illustrating the myriad of contexts
in art, culture, the military and beyond where thin slicing
is establishing a foothold. One memorable example is the work
of Dr. John Gottman, whose “love lab” has been studying married
couples’ conversations for nearly two decades. With a mere
15 minutes of videotaped discussion, Gottman can predict whether
or not a couple will be married 15 years down the road. His
accuracy rate is a staggering 90 percent. In fact, he’s become
so adept at reading the nuances of emotional communication
that he’s found marriages often hinge on the prevalence of
a single emotion: contempt. (So much for sex, money and those
meddling in-laws.)
Quick decisions, of course, can go awry. Gladwell offers the
case of a quixotic musical wunderkind Kenna. U2’s manager
Paul McGuinness hailed him as an artist who could change the
world. Limp Bizkit’s Fred Durst advocated signing him on the
spot after hearing a song over the phone. Yet despite these
nods, Kenna’s career never blew up. After market research
was through with him, he couldn’t even get on a radio station.
According to Gladwell, this was because his music didn’t fit
into any genre. A fatal flaw of thin slicing is its tendency
to marginalize anything that doesn’t fit a pattern. Ironic
that such an innovative field of psychological research is
devoted to a process that filters out innovations.
As a staff writer for The New Yorker, Gladwell mines
the culture for all things counterintuitive. He has explored
the disconnect between the illusion of safety offered by SUVs
and their tendency to flip over. More recently, he’s contested
the notion that plagiarism is always and everywhere a form
of intellectual theft. In Blink he writes about an
even broader contradiction in his trademark voice that distills
complex situations and ideas into a clear conversation.
Gladwell succeeds at seamlessly uniting a ton of seemingly
random phenomena under the banner of an idea. However, the
questions he raises and then leaves hanging are legion: If
a marriage can be assessed in 15 minutes, what does it mean
for husbands and wives interested in staying together? If
thin slicing is rooted in patterns based on experience, how
can anyone be sure their own history is adequate? How do we
know when to trust our adaptive unconscious rather than making
decisions via the cerebral scenic route?
At times, however, Blink’s tone feels less like an
investigation than a subtle form of boosterism. Stumping for
quick decision making, with all its professed flaws, feels
like advocating for the removal of gun safety locks. But because
it’s neither straight-up psychology, sociology nor phenomenology,
Blink is extremely refreshing. However, it’s more than
a little ironic that deciding whether or not it’s actually
“good” is a decision that can’t quite be made in a snap.
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