Figure It Out. Stephen P. Anderson
and “a fragile recovery time to strengthen.” From the column:
America’s economy isn’t a stalled car, nor is it an invalid who will soon return to health if he gets a bit more rest. Our problems are longer-term than either metaphor implies.
And bad metaphors make for bad policy. The idea that the economic engine is going to catch or the patient rise from his sickbed any day now encourages policy makers to settle for sloppy, short-term measures when the economy really needs well-designed, sustained support.6
To be fair, whether a metaphor is bad or good might depend upon hindsight and a clear definition of what is good. But we do know that metaphors have a profound effect on how we understand a topic. Simply changing how we describe a problem changes how people respond. We absolutely should be aware of the metaphors that affect our reasoning, for both their benefits and their limitations. These are ways of thinking that allow us to see a thing in a different way—for better or worse.
Can Merely Suggesting a Concept Frame a Decision?
While the examples listed previously might also get cited as direct semantic or affective priming (something we’ll discuss next), we’re presenting these as metaphors, since they liken one thing to another. But what if there is no clear parallel? What if there’s no explicit correlation made between the focus topic and the metaphor brought to mind? Studies seem to suggest similar outcomes when the framing is unrelated to the decision being made. That is, simply having a particular concept suggested and in memory may influence an unrelated decision. In a 2009 study on this topic, psychologists Mark Landau, Daniel Sullivan, and Jeff Greenberg proposed that “metaphor is a mechanism by which motivational states in one conceptual domain can influence attitudes in a superficially unrelated domain.”7
In this study, participants were split into groups, and each group was asked to read an article about airborne bacteria. One group’s article described airborne bacteria as ubiquitous and harmful, while the other described airborne bacteria as ubiquitous and harmless. This article seeded an idea, that of airborne bacteria as either harmful or harmless.
Next, participants were asked to read one of two articles about U.S. domestic issues other than immigration. One of these articles contained a number of “country as body” metaphorical expressions: “After the Civil War, the United States experienced an unprecedented growth spurt, and is scurrying to create new laws that will give it a chance to digest the millions of innovations.” The other version of this article contained no such metaphors. “After the Civil War, the United States experienced an unprecedented period of innovation, and efforts are now underway to create new laws to control the millions of innovations.”
Finally, subjects completed a questionnaire about immigration and the minimum wage. As expected, subjects who read about the harmful effects of bacterial contamination along with an article that employed the country as body metaphor were more likely to hold negative attitudes regarding immigration.
Application: Choosing Our Words Carefully
If studies show that metaphors do seem to shape our thinking, shouldn’t we be more cautious—and intentional—about the associations we evoke? This is the takeaway: we should learn to be aware of and wary of words we commonly use. Why do we talk about our “target” audience—is it healthy to think about customers as prey to be hunted? How does this influence how we later think about and treat these customers? Or what about this statement, usually from well-meaning teachers: “It’s time to stop playing and get back to work.” Implied in this statement is that learning isn’t fun or that play isn’t learning. Is that a message we want to reinforce? From the work of folks such as game designer Raph Koster8 to an expert on the topic of play such as Stuart Brown, M.D., the conclusion is the same: we know that playing is learning and learning is play. Look at students engaged with a subject or making things, and you’ll see students caught up in the flow state associated with play. Serious question: How much authentic learning can take place when learning is framed as labor?
More subtle (and perhaps more controversial), consider how we talk about public education. Aren’t phrases like “learning standards” and “raising the bar” rooted in a business or factory-like view of teaching? Is this a realistic analogy, given that student attendance is compulsory, and schools cannot simply choose to hire or fire students, as with employees? How do we reconcile treating students like workers in a factory with all we now know about learning differences, special needs, personalized learning, and the like?
Or consider phrases like “I won the argument” or “He backed down.” Why do we tend to view conflict as a fight, where one person must beat the other person? What if we viewed conflicts as a puzzle to be solved, and doing so required sorting out the experiences and beliefs that have led to the conflicting conclusions?
So yes, metaphors can trigger emotions; they also shape how we reason about something, and perhaps even affect the decisions we make. But how does this help us figure things out?
Changing the metaphor changes our thinking. And when we change our thinking, we see new possibilities. Metaphors can reduce the cost of understanding by bridging what we do know with something we don’t yet know. But this reduced cost in understanding comes at a price: this metaphor will only work to a point, and then it limits our understanding. This is only a way to view a topic. The lesson? Use metaphors with care. The tricky part is how embedded these metaphors are in our language (and in our thoughts). But view this as a challenge9 from us, to be vigilant and intentional with the words we choose, and the frames they invoke.
How Priming and Anchoring Influence Associations
Metaphors are one form of conceptual associations. What about something that isn’t quite so decipherable? Something less ... narrative. Might simply suggesting a word, a phrase, or a number affect our reasoning abilities? To answer this question, let’s consider priming and anchoring, two closely related but different ideas that have been well studied by behavioral economists.
Priming
Suppose we’re talking about food and what you had for lunch yesterday. Then we ask you to fill in the “missing” letter in this word: SO_P. Go ahead. What’s the word? Chances are you’d say “SOUP.” If, however, we’re talking about hygiene, showers, and topics of cleanliness, and we ask you the same question, you’re more likely to complete the word as “SOAP.” Simple studies like this one are numerous.10 A specific suggestion influences what comes to mind. This is priming.
Priming is “the use of background factors to put someone in a psychological state that affects their actions without their conscious knowledge.” Magicians frequently use priming to “read people’s minds” when in reality they are planting ideas—often without our conscious awareness. Unlike metaphors, where we might stop and call out the metaphor being invoked, or use a word that conjures up a metaphor, priming is more subconscious, likely to go unnoticed by the person being “primed.” Like a metaphor, it’s still triggering a prior association; however, it’s not explicit, more likely to be suggestive than correlative, and probably separated by a bit of time (often minutes). (For our broader point, these distinctions are less important—these are all different forms of an associative pattern-matching process.)
As with our SO_P example, the most common examples of priming are rather directed, that is, we can trace back our primed actions to one or more background factors. A specific suggestion then influences what comes to mind. This makes sense. But research into priming has veered into even more interesting directions.
Priming and Subtle Suggestions
In a study dubbed “The Florida Effect,”11 rather than make a specific suggestion, leading to an easy correlation (EAT —> SOUP / WASH —> SOAP), we saw something more fascinating. First, research participants were primed to recall an idea that was never explicitly stated (but was itself