Who's in the Driver's Seat?
This week dropped a wall of snow in the southeastern corner of the state, inspiring awe in the voices of Wyomingites who’ve witnessed animals frozen in their tracks, snow blowing sideways, and 18-wheelers full of televisions and canned goods scattered like Matchbox toys in the hands of a tantruming toddler. At least one driver on I-80, who had apparently never seen winter go out like a lion, was stopped in his tracks after reportedly deciding to use the storm as an opportunity to road test his Mini Cooper.
Mother Nature - 1
Mr. Mini Cooper - 0
The out-of-state driver stranded himself for four hours, bringing all travel to a halt and immobilizing at least two WYDOT snowplows that wrecked into the ditch instead of flattening his car. The report was such a good read -- it had a bad guy, and he was one of “them.” Sneering at his stupidity sent a superior satisfaction coursing through my veins. Man, it feels good to pile on.
Don’t ask me what happened a few moments later, but my brain suddenly shifted gears. I started to consider how scary it must have been for him and for the people around him. I pictured him trying to make himself invisible, trapped in his tiny car for hours, surrounded by frustrated, hard-working professionals who probably wanted to throw him into the snowbank. I thought of embarrassing things I’ve done and imagined any of those moments going viral. I could empathize. I’ve been an idiot.
If you’ve ever raised a teenager, you’ll understand why I think of my brain in the same way. Your beloved adolescent, exhausted by how much energy it takes to adult, will look you in the eye and swear his homework is done. Though you have your suspicions, you want to believe this, and they’re so darned cute. You go ahead and trust him, enjoying the short-term benefit of living peacefully with your child for the 1.5 hours before school calls.
What does this have to do with the Mini Cooper on I-80? The brain, like your teenager, just wants you off its back. Instead of going through a checklist of similarly bad decisions you’ve made during a winter storm, the brain nudges you toward the easy conclusion: Idiot. Perfunctory exile to the “out-group.” It’s so much easier than all that rational thinking.
Most people I know are concerned about our country right now and want to see us working together on shared values or ideas, like we have done in the past. That’s a tall order. Because our brains are wired to save effort by making snap judgements, anything different or “other” is sent directly to the out-group. The satisfaction I got while sneering at the picture of the hapless driver illustrates this. My brain was sending adrenaline hits to coax me into an easy sort: Wyoming driver, good. California driver (oops), bad.
This primitive mental system of sorting supports basic safety and survival. So many key decisions happen on auto-pilot. You would never get up in the morning if you had to summon the mental energy to consciously decide to breathe, to open the garage door before backing out, to stop at a red light. It’s efficient. But auto-pilot isn’t so great for building the emotional balance and empathy required to thrive together, in community, on this speck of a planet.
The good news is we can teach the brain to recognize when it should swap primitive tool of reaction for the more elegant tool of response. We can learn to respond with empathy for the Mini Cooper, to see ourselves in the other, to disband the out-group. Like it or not, we’re all in this human clan together.
With great care,
Sara and the Becoming Jackson Whole team