Psychologists’ evolving understanding of the development of phobias

My nine year-old son Joseph has an overwhelming fear of dogs. In the language of psychology, he has a phobia, an intense and irrational fear of a specific object, resulting in avoidance of the object. This became painfully obvious recently when my family and I attended a party for Asian University students at the home of the University Vice President for Administrative Affairs Khun Panit.

During the course of the evening, a small, extremely active, yet obviously friendly and harmless dog was scampering about on Khun Panit’s front lawn, endearing himself to all of the guests; all, that is, except Joseph. Initially, Joseph took steps to avoid the dog. Following a few close encounters, however, it became clear that he could not maintain a comfortable distance between himself and the animal. Eventually, Joseph began crying hysterically, eventually prompting us to leave the party a bit prematurely.

As we were leaving, one of my psychology students asked me if Joseph had had a previous traumatic experience with dogs. I replied that, to my knowledge, he had not, although his eleven year-old brother Michael had recently been bitten by a stray. The dog bite had made it necessary for Michael to undergo a series of unpleasant injections to prevent rabies. Surprisingly, Michael continues to show no signs of fear or apprehension when in the presence of strange dogs. Joseph’s fear, however, appeared long before Michael’s unfortunate experience. Why, then, would Joseph develop a phobia, while Michael would not?

The traditional psychological explanation, originally proposed by the behaviorist John Watson in 1920, suggests that phobias result when a traumatic event becomes associated with a neutral stimulus, like an object or place. In the classic experiment, Watson repeatedly exposed his subject, “Little Albert” to the frightening sound of a loud noise while the child was in the presence of a white rat. As a result, Little Albert developed a fear of the rat, as well as other objects resembling the rat. Watson referred to this as conditioned fear.

Many people with phobias can, in fact, trace their fear to some traumatic event. Like my son Michael, however, many people exposed to traumatic events do not develop a phobia. Watson’s theory concerning the development of phobias fails to explain the development of a phobia in one who, like Joseph, had never been exposed to trauma, or the absence of a phobia in one who, like Michael, had experienced trauma.

In the January 2006 issue of the journal American Psychologist published by the American Psychological Association, psychologists Susan Mineka and Richard Zinbarg reviewed contemporary research which offers a better understanding of how anxiety disorders like phobias develop. Essentially, they propose that there are individual differences in peoples’ susceptibility to developing phobias. These differences could be produced by genetic variations among individuals, as well as by differences in life experiences.

The authors cited research indicating that genetic factors can produce variations in what they call “trait anxiety,” an enduring tendency some people have to be a bit more nervous or high-strung than average. There is evidence that high trait anxiety, in turn, can affect the speed and strength of conditioning. Likewise, timid or excessively shy toddlers have been shown to be more prone to developing phobias than more outgoing youngsters. In this view, genetically produced personality factors could account for differences in people’s susceptibility to the development of phobias. Indeed, Michael is the more outgoing of my sons; Joseph is a bit more anxious and shy.

In addition to genetics, life experiences can also affect people’s susceptibility the development of phobias, for better or worse. For example, children who had experienced more nontraumatic visits to the dentist’s office were less likely to develop dental anxiety in response to dental trauma than children with fewer nontraumatic encounters. Thus, it appears that previous exposures to a potentially fearful object or situation could serve to “inoculate” an individual against the development of a phobia.

Similarly, other life experiences could affect people’s susceptibility to the development of phobias following traumatic experiences. Children raised in households in which they experience greater control over their environments, for example, show less fear when confronted by potentially frightening events, compared to children raised with less of a sense of control.

Again, our own family experiences lend some support to developments in learning theory emerging from the research literature. Michael spent the first three years of his life in our household in the U.S. with our pet dog Pancho. At two years of age, he was leading Pancho around on a leash. He would abuse the poor dog mercilessly, and Pancho would take it.

Shortly after Joseph’s birth, however, we were forced to give Pancho away in preparation for our move to Thailand. Joseph had none of Michael’s early experiences of having a pet in the home, and of mastering the animal. It seems plausible, therefore, that different experiences like these, in concert with their different personalities, could help account for the boys’ remarkably contrasting susceptibility to developing a fear of dogs later in life.

The psychology of worry

"There is only one way to happiness and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power of our will."

Epictetus

When it comes to worrying, my wife and I have a mutual understanding: She is to do all the worrying, and I am to let her. If you were to ask her why she worries so much, she would say it’s because she has to do the worrying for two people.

Worry is a common human response to challenge and uncertainty. The word “worry” is not a technical or well-defined psychological term, but it is probably related to the emotional state known as anxiety. Not all worry is considered undesirable and to be avoided, however. A distinction can be made between a healthy concern, leading to preparation for a challenging event, and less healthy nervousness or anxiety which serves no useful function. The distinction rests upon whether or not the emotion is helpful in achieving some desired outcome.

It is well established that nervousness or anxiety can, under certain circumstances, enhance a performance of a task. Research in sports psychology, for example, suggests that there is an optimal level of physiological arousal or anxiety, which leads to improvement in players’ performances. Too much or too little arousal can interfere with performance. Skilled coaches know how to manipulate athletes’ levels of arousal in such a way as to optimize their performance.

Likewise, many performers, such as actors and musicians admit to experiencing nervousness or anxiety, sometimes called “stage fright” before a public performance. Effective performers are able to use this experience to their advantage, creating an edge to their performance. Others may feel overwhelmed by nervousness and anxiety, so much so, that they avoid performing. Many people, for example, experience a debilitating fear of public speaking, and refuse to speak before a group.

Worry can sometimes present as a passive mental activity which is unpleasant and unproductive. This type of worry is characterized by the phrase, “spinning your wheels.” Worrying is sometimes performed as habit, a ritual to ward off undesirable events. Some people experience repetitive, unwanted, and intrusive thoughts called obsessions. These are often disturbing, and can interfere with normal functioning.

According to cognitive behavior theory advanced by psychologists like Albert Ellis, emotions like anxiety are intimately associated with our thoughts or self-statements, the conversation which goes on inside our heads. Rational thoughts are associated with healthy, adaptive emotions and effective behavior. Irrational thoughts are associated with disturbing, emotions and ineffective behavior.

Faced with the challenge of having to give a public speech, for example, I can disturb myself by thinking, “I must do well. I must not make a mistake or say something stupid. If I do, the audience will not approve of me. If the audience does not approve of me, it proves I am stupid and worthless.”

Thinking in this way would likely have the effect of increasing my anxiety level to a point at which I am unable to perform at my best, consequently increasing the probability of a screw-up during my speech.

If, on the other hand, I think more rationally, my self-talk might go something like this: “I hope to do well; however, being human, it is not out of the question that I could make a mistake, even say something stupid. It is even possible the audience will not approve of me. But if I don’t perform well, as I prefer, it’s still all right. Likewise, I would prefer to receive the audience’s approval, but if I don’t get it, that’s OK. My worth is not affected. Through the experience, I can, nevertheless, improve my speaking skills and perhaps perform better in the future.

Thinking in this way would likely have a calming effect, reducing my anxiety, and in the process, decreasing my chance of making a serious blunder. In the likely event I do make a mistake, or perform below my standard, I can recover quickly and generally offer a better performance than I would in a heightened state of anxiety.

The good news, I suppose, is that we have a great deal of control over our thoughts. Even though much of our thinking is done rather automatically, with practice we can learn to recognize irrational, unhealthy thinking that is associated with disturbed emotions. By disputing and changing that type of thinking, we can change disturbed, unhelpful emotions to more appropriate ones that are more compatible with effective behavior.

But don’t tell this to my wife. We have this mutual understanding…

Establishing norms of privacy in an era of surveillance technology: A role for psychologists

One morning a couple of years ago my family and I awoke to the shocking realization that intruders had broken into our home and entered the very rooms where we lay asleep.

Although we lost several items of significant material and sentimental value in the burglary, I believe the most disturbing aspect of the crime was the feeling that my family and I had been violated, that we had suffered a loss of privacy and security. It would be months before we would again begin to feel safe and secure within our own home.

People generally place great value on privacy. It is one of those commodities we tend to take for granted. Who among us wants strangers snooping through our private belongings, reading our correspondence, listening in on our phone calls, watching us, intruding upon our personal life? We Americans, however, recently learned that our government is engaged in just that sort of snooping.

Americans, it seems, are a very forgiving people, at least with regard to the errant behavior of our president. The limits of our willingness to forgive and forget, however, appear to have been severely tested by recent revelations of electronic eavesdropping on American citizens, authorized by President Bush in 2002, and without the legal safeguards established to monitor and control such intrusions. Out of the array of issues facing the Bush presidency, it is interesting that the issue of privacy would finally be the one that produces a broad bipartisan public outcry and demands for the investigation and reigning in of presidential powers.

The Fourth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution was established to protect the people of our country from unreasonable searches. Searches are generally considered reasonable only if they are conducted pursuant to a warrant which has been issued by a court based upon probable cause. If an activity is not a search, it is not governed by the Fourth Amendment. Thus, the question of what constitutes a search becomes very important.

Originally the word “search” was considered to necessarily involve a physical intrusion into some place. It eventually became apparent that emerging technologies like telephone “bugs” provided means of conducting surveillance that did not necessarily involve a physical intrusion.

In a 1967 decision, the U.S. Supreme Court held that what an individual "seeks to preserve as private" is to be afforded constitutional protection, regardless of whether a physical intrusion is involved. In the words of the court, the Fourth Amendment "protects people, not places." In order to be protected, the individual must 1) have an expectation of privacy, and 2) this expectation must be considered reasonable by society.

This determination by the Court has raised questions for psychologists to address: What do individuals seek to preserve as private, and what privacy expectations does society consider to be reasonable?

Psychologists have identified some of the variables that influence people’s perceptions of the degree of intrusiveness of surveillance activities. For example, Dorothy Kagehiro and Ralph Taylor reported that undergraduates tended to view searches of their own property as more intrusive than searches of others’ property. Furthermore, roving, searches in the absence of suspicion were deemed more intrusive than searches directed toward acquiring specified evidence.

Some have theorized that people tend to view the intrusiveness of surveillance activities as a function of the strength of the presumption of guilt. For example, in a case where a suspect is handcuffed and detained, the presumption of guilt is high, and searches would be considered less intrusive. When a search relates to a serious crime, and when the motives of law enforcement officials are judged to be protective, the theory would predict a tendency to view the search as less intrusive.

In general, psychological research has agreed with Supreme Court decisions concerning the degree of perceived intrusiveness of various search activities. In some cases, however, research has revealed social sensitivities in areas not yet protected by the Court. For example, the public seems to view drug testing by employers, and activities by undercover agents and dogs as highly intrusive. Nevertheless, the Court has yet to establish a substantial privacy issue pertaining to such tactics.

Psychological research will, no doubt, continue to explore factors that influence people’s notions of privacy and the perception of intrusiveness by law enforcement officials. For example, to what extent do the nature of the measures used influence their perceived intrusiveness by the public? Does the nature of the place being searched make a difference? Does the degree of physical intrusion have an effect upon the public’s perception? How do privacy expectations change in response to advances in surveillance technologies? Questions like these are well suited to psychological investigation.

Lessons of the South Korean stem cell research scandal

The world of scientific research has been rocked by the recent revelations of fraud by a South Korean medical researcher. According to investigators, stem cell researcher Woo Suk Hwang lied and falsified research when claiming that he had cloned human embryos and extracted stem cells genetically matched to patients. Hwang’s research was published last May in the prestigious American journal, Science. The journal editors are expected to publish a retraction of the report.

The story represents a huge embarrassment to the Korean people, who had regarded Hwang as a national hero. It is, likewise, a tremendous disappointment to those hoping that the achievements of the team of South Korean medical researchers might eventually result in the development of revolutionary new treatments for such debilitating conditions as spinal cord injury and Parkinson’s disease. In addition, the apparently unethical activities of this investigator might be viewed as tarnishing the reputation of other scientific investigators in the field of stem cell research.

Episodes of misconduct like this are not unknown in science. Perhaps the most famous is that of the so-called “Piltdown man.” Piltdown was the site of an archaeological find in England. In 1908 and 1912 human, ape and other mammal fossils were found in close proximity at Piltdown. British anthropologists subsequently became convinced that fossils discovered at a nearby site in 1913 represented a single individual possessing a human cranium and an ape’s jaw.

This find was interpreted as evidence favoring one particular theory of human evolution over a competing one at the time. In 1953, however, the find was determined to have been a forgery. The skull was shown to be that of a modern human, while the jaw had come from an ape. The teeth had been deliberately filed down to give them a more human appearance. The identity of the forger was never determined with certainty.

It might seem surprising when scientists are involved in misconduct, particularly one as egregious as this. Perhaps our surprise when episodes of scientific misconduct come to light stems from a basic misunderstanding within modern societies about the nature of science, and of scientists. We live, after all, in a world transformed by spectacular technological advances. Revolutionary progress has been made in fields of medicine, transportation, communications, space travel and warfare, to name a few. We generally attribute such advances to the progress in our understanding of the world ushered in by modern scientists.

Revolutionary scientific and technological achievements of our time have created a sort of “halo-effect” around scientists and their work. The popular image of the scientist is that of a dispassionate and ethical observer of nature, who dutifully abides by strict ethical codes of conduct, one who operates unaffected by the political, social, economic, religious, cultural forces around him/her. This image is, however, unrealistic.

Scientists are, in fact, human beings. Like the rest of us, they possess human traits, prejudices and biases. They are subject to errors in judgment, sloppiness, and incompetence. They can be lazy, greedy, and ambitious. They are capable of being wise or just plain ignorant.

Scientists operate in an extremely competitive and materialistic world. Most academics are subject to powerful pressures to “publish or perish.” The competition for the limited funds available for scholarly research can be fierce. Research agendas are often dictated by political and social priorities, passing professional trends, and economic incentives. Scientists can be bought and sold by commercial and other special interests.

The humanity of scientists is nothing new, nor is the imperfection of the societies in which they operate. Nevertheless, science endures and prospers. Unfortunate events like the stem cell research and Piltdown man scandals, in the long run, demonstrate the very characteristics that enable science to survive, despite errors and adversities. Unlike other knowledge bases, science is a self-correcting enterprise. It has the unique capacity to critically examine its own activities, to scrutinize its practitioners, to renounce flawed research, to correct errors, to revise or replace faulty theories. In this way, science can continue to advance, despite the limitations and shortcomings of its celebrated, illustrious, yet fallible human practitioners.