Gender difference: science, or magical thinking?

I coach people who want to develop or improve their leadership skills. As it happens, I work more with women than men, and many assumptions are made about the differences in women's and men's communications styles, the way they lead, their inherent need to express themselves, etc.  So many times I find myself responding to statements that begin, "When women communicate they . . ." with "Well, yes, but . . ." Or hearing that the "female brain" is "hard-wired" to do this or that. It is all I can do to restrain myself from blurting out" "argh! The brain is not an electronic device!!"

I thought "conventional wisdom" had moved beyond such simplistic thinking: even Wikipedia has an entry on Neuroplasticity that describes how our brains change throughout our lives. Some of you may have seen my objections to the view that male and female are inherently different when I posted: Pink and Blue? What's Up With That?, written after a presentation by the Rosalind Barnett, author of The Truth about Girls and Boys: Challenging Toxic Stereotypes About Our Children 

So I was thrilled to read, in Sunday's New York Times, the provocatively titled "Darwin Was Wrong About Dating". This op-ed written by author and journalist Dan Slater, deals primarily with several recent scientific studies that throw cold water on accepted theories of gender difference. Slater writes: "Lately, however, a new cohort of scientists have been challenging the very existence of the gender differences in sexual behavior that Darwinians have spent the past 40 years trying to explain and justify on evolutionary grounds."

Which raises this issue: if the differences don't exist here, where there might be a clear evolutionary reason for such gender differences, do they really exist at all? Later in the article Slater echoes what has been on my mind for quite some time: "This wouldn’t be the first time we’ve pushed these theories too far. How many stereotypical racial and ethnic differences, once declared evolutionarily determined under the banner of science, have been revealed instead as vestiges of power dynamics from earlier societies?" I think that is a question we would all like an answer to.

We had our share of mis-information about gender difference this election season in the U.S. (see Aiken, Todd et al.) I hope we have reached the extreme, and our pendulum is now swinging back toward more reasonable discourse. It's past time to come out from under the cloud of simplistic thinking about gender, sex and power. As Slater says, "given new research, continued rigid reliance on evolution as an explanation seems to risk elevating a limited guide to teleological status — a way of thinking that scientists should abhor. . . How far does Darwin go in explaining human behavior?"

Resolved: It's not just a New Year's thing

Happy New Year!

I was not going to write about resolutions for 2013, but today as I took my regular morning walk (my first of the New Year), I noticed there were about four times as many folks out exercising as there had been in December. And it wasn't even an unseasonably warm day! So I got to ruminating about resolutions.

I think that by January 3rd this topic has been done to death in all media. My favorite story this year was Ira Flatrow on NPR's Science Friday. Before the dawn of 2013, Ira interviewed psychologist John Norcross who said the best way to make resolutions stick is to set realistic goals. This is not really news, but Dr. Norcross did cite figures: "In two of our longitudinal studies, 40 to 46 percent of New Year's resolvers will be successful at six months." Wow! That means that half of our resolutions will be fading by the time the cherry blossoms bloom here in D.C. Dr. Norcross talked about motivation vs. inspiration. I have always thought of inspiration as the seducer, making our resolutions seem so attractive that we reallyreally want to try them. Dr. Norcross would agree, I venture. He also reminds us that motivation is what keeps us going. It is also what those who fail balk at -- the hard work part. Motivation involves specific behaviors we build into the fabric of our days. And we shouldn't get discouraged by early "slips" of resolve: they may indicate that our major goal is good, but we need to "tweak" strategies for reaching it to make it something do-able.

Like many people my age, I don't place much stock in New Year's resolutions (been there, done that!) I try to be more pro-active (as opposed to reactive) in my life every day. Some days, however, I find that in my home and family life I am making choices rather hap-hazardly, according to circumstances that present themselves, rather than sticking to any real plan. Undaunted, I still resolve to make improvements -- but not on Big Days. My goals are usually small and specific. Some might call them modest. But often they are only steps in a plan to attain a larger goal. (see the story of how I produced my play, Becoming Calvin)

One of my past resolutions involved the what was then to me the strange world of blogging. I was not sure where it would lead me, but I dove in with my first post on November 7, 2011. And I keep at it as regularly as I can. Since my first blog I have posted 58 times, and had 4,549 page views (thank you). The Value of Solitude from January 24, 2012 remains the all-time favorite. I have enjoyed the discipline blogging has provided. And while I know not every post has been brilliant, I hope I have been able to share with you, my far-flung readers, some new information, or helped you reach a new insight.

Keep reading. . . there's more to come in 2013!

Elementary, my dear Watson!

Well into the frenzy of the holiday season, we could all use some sound, easy-to-implement method for maintaining focus and clarity. We're tired of myriad distractions derailing us from our ever-lengthening to-do lists, and overwhelmed by stimuli at the mall that pull us off course. Just in the Nick of time, a ray of hope shines forth from this past Sunday's New York Times: an article about new research that tells us, with a bit of practice, we can all attain a mindfulness that would make Sherlock Holmes proud.

The author, Maria Konnikova, writes about studies from University of Wisconsin and University of Washington that prove even a small amount of meditation can help us achieve real-world benefits: "As little as five minutes a day of intense Holmes-like inactivity, and a happier outlook is yours for the taking. . . But mindfulness goes beyond improving emotion regulation. An exercise in mindfulness can also help with that plague of modern existence: multitasking. Of course, we would like to believe that our attention is infinite, but it isn’t. Multitasking is a persistent myth. What we really do is shift our attention rapidly from task to task. Two bad things happen as a result. We don’t devote as much attention to any one thing, and we sacrifice the quality of our attention. When we are mindful, some of that attentional flightiness disappears as if of its own accord."

So before you shop, wrap, decorate, bake, or even celebrate. . . take five for Sherlock. You just might discover more joy this season.

Coming in from the cold

Scottish Christmas Walk

© Alexandria Convention & Visitors Association

Holiday season around here kicks off with an event peculiar to our part of the world-- Alexandria, Virginia's annual Scottish Walk. The parade ends with Santa, as most parades after Thanksgiving do. But it honors Alexandria's heritage, and so it includes some unusual elements: marching bagpipe ensembles, Scottie dogs, and lots of tartan!

I must confess, we don't stand along the parade route each and every year, but we always go to a Holiday Open House hosted by a dear friend whose office is close by. When we open the door into her town home office, we notice the aroma of spiced hot cider, and we we are immediately enveloped in a feeling of good holiday cheer. When I attend these gatherings, I always leave with a new friend or business contact. Somehow, the atmosphere our hostess creates invariably allows for easy connectivity.

What is her secret? This past Sunday's New York Times gave me a clue. In their very informative "Gray Matter" column, authors Hans Ijzerman and Justin Saddlemyer describes research linking feelings of connection (and its opposite, octracism) to body temperature: "Research has shown that things like heart rate, levels of respiration and other involuntary physiological responses are affected by social connectedness. Thus, when people feel excluded, blood vessels at the periphery of the body (in the fingertips, for example) may narrow, preserving core body heat. This classic protective mechanism is known as vasoconstriction." Once again, science has given the biology behind our feelings: in this case, the reason we feel "left out in the cold" when we are not included! 

The good news is that the converse is also true, and I can only surmise that my gracious hostess knew that serving warm cider is not only festive, but conducive to conviviality!  ". . .  touching something warm after a feeling of ostracism — like holding a warm cup of coffee — is enough to halt and even reverse some of these autonomic responses. It seems as if the body can be fooled into feeling welcomed by applying a little warmth in the right places. And the effect is reciprocal: studies in our own lab and at Yale have found that adults and young children are more social after they’ve touched something warm."

I think we can all use this news. In professional settings, we can make sure to offer those hot beverages when is seems our connections may be weakening. In our social lives we can keep our spirits and core temperatures up -- if not through clothing (female festive wear is notable for it goosebump-inducing, flesh-baring sparkles) -- through eating or drinking something that gives us that warm and reassuring feeling inside. Or standing beside someone who does! 

Lessons from Beijing traffic

A rare break in traffic across for Tiananmen Square

Walking to a meeting last night in Washington, D.C. I stopped and looked at the chaos that is D.C. downtown rush hour traffic. I realized this was the first time I had experienced this phenomenon after my Beijing trip earlier in the month (a Thanksgiving trip to New England had intervened). I was struck by how the big city traffic here differs from that in Beijing, and began to ponder what traffic can teach us about life - and communication.

In Beijing, the pedestrian has no right-of-way. Vehicles of every size occupy three to four lanes on each side, and there are bicycles and three-wheeled electronic delivery carts in the bike lanes. Traffic signals seem to mean something, but apparently turning on red is permissible for right and left turns. So pity the poor tourist on foot! The best advice I got about walking around town was from a wonderful guidebook, China Survival Guide: How to Avoid Travel Troubles and Mortifying Mishaps. The authors said the best thing to do, since a stray bike or random cab can come out of nowhere, was to wait till a crowd gathers to cross the street and go with them. Even if you have the light, as a pedestrian you are vulnerable. Best to travel with a group. Fortunately, you are never far from a crowd in Beijing!

The other striking thing about Beijing traffic, though, is its quiet, almost dance-like flow. In a town with so many drivers that they can only use their cars on alternate days, and six ring roads defining the city, I was expecting to see NYC-style traffic jams, complete with horns blaring and breaks screeching. Nothing could have been farther from what I experienced. 

Beijing traffic flows smoothy. Drivers maintain a uniform pace (maxing out at 25 mph by my guesstimation). No one races to make a light, but plenty make u-turns mid-block (because so many streets are one-way). Those behind the wheel must be used to such things happening in front of them, but visiting passengers are quite unprepared! The first time I witnessed this (from inside a cab) I cringed and held on tight, expecting horns, maybe some loud cursing, definitely a jolt as the brakes were applied. But no, the turn was easily accomplished, and we were on our merry way.

It may be illustrative of what some call the "Chinese character" that drivers work so well, so harmoniously, in such a crowded place. Traffic is bad in Beijing, and I think the system of ring roads is pretty inefficient. But the drivers are all mindful of each other. They all seem to realize what so many of us forget: we are all fellow-travelers, and rushing about and behaving as if our needs trump everyone else's doesn't really help us reach our destinations that much sooner. They watch each other, engage mindfully, and go with the flow.

Lessons to remember the next time we find ourselves in a foreign communications landscape!

Why I give thanks

Thanksgiving is upon us, that most American of holidays. We all celebrate it: a feast of food, family and friends. It is a grand tradition indeed!

But most of us no longer farm. We did not flee religious persecution in our homelands. So our thanks is not for our new life of religious freedom, nor for the bountiful harvest we have gathered in. We may see the Pilgrims  and their 1621 Thanksgiving at Plymouth as a metaphor for a "good year",  a time of abundance, a time of freedom. But can we really relate?

There is an another historical first Thanksgiving in American, though, predating the one in Plymouth. In Virginia, on December 4, 1619, the givers of thanks represent another facet of American identity. Berkeley Hundred was chartered by the Virginia Company of London. Like the Jamestown Colony (est. 1607) it was business venture. The goal of the Company was to gain a foothold in the New World, cultivate some cash crops and send them back to England. These colonies were chartered to reap profits for settlers, speculators and shareholders. How very American!

And yet, even the profit-driven leaders of The Company acknowledged that the safe arrival of the colonizers would be a reason to give thanks to God. By charter, the Captain was directed to hold a service of Thanksgiving upon landing in Virginia. After 13 weeks at sea, Captain John Woodlief led his 38 men in prayer: “We ordaine that this day of our ships arrival, at the place assigned for plantacon, in the land of Virginia, shall be yearly and perpetually kept holy as a day of Thanksgiving to Almighty God”. 

And so our first Thanksgiving was a celebration of our safe arrival, and the beginning of a new venture. For those of us who no longer live in an agrarian world, where life's rhythms follow the seasons, celebrating a harvest festival may be a bit of a mental stretch. But I think many of us (especially creative types and anyone who makes something out of raw material, drive, and vision) can relate to the thanks given at Berkeley Hundred. 

When we take a leap of faith into the unknown we are like those first settlers, guided by a hope for a better tomorrow and a prayer that we will arrive safely. Like them, the profit motive may be a factor, but we are also pioneers, journeying toward a new world. We will only succeed with good winds, hard work, and the grace of God.

A pause to reflect

The Forbidden City

I have just returned from a week in Beijing. It was a fantastic experience! I had never been in China before; indeed, this was my first trip to Asia. My husband had been invited to attend a conference, and I tagged along, just for fun.

The Great Wall

His Chinese colleagues were generous with their time, and invited us to several meals. One even shepherded us through our morning of haggling and bargain-hunting at The Pearl Market.  But most days we were on our own, seeing the sights and generally self-navigating the city. Not knowing more than three word of Mandarin, I did a lot of listening. was especially attuned to non-verbal communications.

I rediscovered that a smile can communicate a lot of good will, and that the meaning of joyous laughter is universal. But what also struck me was the essential place of the pause in any language. My husband's colleague graciously took us to the best Dim Sum restaurant near the Lama Temple.  And when she made a phone call, she spoke so rapidly in her native Mandarin that it took my breath away. Only when she paused did I know she had come to the end of a very long explanation. In a tonal language, ends of sentences cannot be signaled by the downward pitch of finality that we use in English. And so the pause becomes even more important as a signal of conclusion. We noted this as well when we had to rewind our (otherwise excellent) audio cassette tour of The Forbidden City. The Chinese English speaker was hard to follow: was she still describing the Hall of Supreme Harmony, or had she moved on the Hall of Central Harmony? She did not drop her vocal tone at the end, which is one of the few tonalities we use in English (as opposed to Mandarin, where every word is formed by one of three tones). So it sounded like she was continuing with the same thought. But if she had paused, we would have known.

It got me thinking of the rhythms of communication, and how essential the pause is in any language. In German, the listener uses the pause at the end of a sentence to match all the verbs with the nouns that preceded them. In English and the Western Romance languages, the listener uses the pause to  absorb what has just been said. If we fail to pause, we are not engaging in the give-and-take of the communications loop, and we lose our listener.

When speech mirrors our speeding train of thought, it is too hard for the listeners to stay on board. And once they have jumped off, it is almost impossible to pull them back on. A pause may seem like a small thing, but it can keep you on track!