Exploring the Landscape of the Mind

All of us, throughout the course of our lives, build up a mental model of the world around us and how it works. These constructs are variously referred to as a schema or cognitive map. They can also be thought of as an ‘image’ which includes our sense of 'self;' of who we are and who we perceive ourselves to be. While we are, in all likelihood, unaware of it, we all possess such a model which we ourselves have created. These models constitute an internal representation of the external world and how it functions in terms of cause and effect relationships. In short, it helps us to unify our experience; enabling us to order incoming information and to formulate an appropriate response. This mental 'software' that each of us carries around in our head is far from perfect and can best be viewed as a simplified image of reality which mirrors the nature and behaviour of the real world. Understandably, such images must be based on the bedrock of reality to some degree and most accurately represent aspects of the real world which, in the past, our survival has depended upon. However, it follows from the fact that we are all different genetically (except for identical twins!) and that we all have different experiences that our images of the world will also differ. The personal image each of us constructs can in a very real sense be regarded as the core of our sense of self. As our lives proceed and the internal structure and organisation of these images grow in complexity, they come to constitute a large part of our identity and we become deeply committed to them. Essentially the ‘self’ can be conceptualized as a special and very important part of our larger model of reality. Like the larger schema, the ‘self-schema’ must grow and develop throughout our lives. As we come to ‘know ourselves’ through life experience we learn about our special abilities and limitations, we become aware (sometimes painfully) of different aspects of our physical appearance, our likes and dislikes, what we would or would not do and also the kind of person we are in terms of temperamental characteristics. Are we moody or cheerful, relaxed and confident or anxious and unsure of ourselves? A crucial part of how we define ourselves and construct our self-schema is the social and cultural context in which we live. We come to see ourselves not so much in some absolute sense in relation to some abstract ideal but rather relative to other people, especially others in our peer group. It should not be surprising that we are especially sensitive and receptive to information of personal relevance. Of course we are preoccupied with ourselves much of the time for our well-being and even survival may depend on our being attuned in this way. As a result our self-schema occupies a relatively large area in our overall schema of the world, is activated frequently (being perhaps the first ‘port of call’ for incoming stimuli) and is significantly coloured and vivified by our emotions. This ‘bias’ also affects the way in which we interact with others. We are more receptive to information about others if we can relate it to aspects of our own self schema. The preliminary questions asked in seeking some common ground when we meet new people may be understood as attempts to link them to our self as a point of reference and departure. If such links cannot be established, a certain awkwardness ensues and both parties may seek to drift off at the earliest opportunity to find someone else easier to communicate with! A further important property of our self-schema is its strongly interconnected and integrated nature. Michael Gazzaniga puts forward the intriguing argument that this is due to the work of what he terms the ‘interpreter.’ This ‘most amazing mechanism the human being possesses’ acts to integrate all of the incoming information, trying to make sense of it. It also works at explaining our behavioural responses (both cognitive and emotional) to our environment, giving us reasons for doing what we do. In the process of doing this it provides a kind of narrative thread for what becomes in time a personal story which we endow with meaning and significance. Gazzaniga even argues that the sense of wholeness, of being purposeful, well-intentioned and in control of our lives, in other words our very sense of self, is an illusion created by the interpreter. This ‘interpreter’ has been aptly termed by others the ‘narrator’, ‘harmonizer’ or ‘strategizer’ for it does all of these things. It is manifest in the inner voice which we are sometimes aware of (and sometimes not) with which we talk to ourselves more or less continuously. We carry on an inner dialogue about what is happening in our daily lives, relating it to memories of the past, what we have said, thought or done. It also contemplates the future, what we intend to think about or say or do; whether it will be the same or different. In this way we weave a coherent story in which we are the central protagonist and maintain a functional unity. The memories of our past life serve as source material for a work of fiction which bears only a passing resemblance to what really happened. Because of our deep need to feel good about ourselves, we airbrush out our less noble moments and embroider our successes, transforming them into triumphs. The fish we caught on summer holiday long ago becomes bigger with each telling of the story and the fight to land it assumes ever more epic proportions. It is clear that we have acquired this ability to construct models not because it offers us an interesting pastime but because making sense of the world around us is a powerful tool for solving the problems we confront in our lives. In short, we have this ability because it has in the past enhanced our prospects for survival. Life is a game of deadly seriousness and as we will see, our schema empower us to exert some control over our environment and to ensure that our needs are met.