Surprise

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Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From Thinking, Fast and Slow (2011)

  second. My students were always surprised to hear that the best predicted performance on day 2 is more moderate, closer to the average than the evidence on which it is based (the score on day 1). This is why the pattern is called regression to the mean. The more extreme the original score, the more regression we expect, because an extremely good score suggests a very lucky day. The regressive prediction is reasonable, but its accuracy is not guaranteed. A few of the golfers who scored 66 on day 1 will do even better on the second day, if their luck improves. Most will do worse, because their luck will no longer be above average. Now let us go against the time arrow. Arrange the players by their performance on day 2 and look at their performance on day 1. You will find precisely the same pattern of regression to the mean. The golfers who did best on day 2 were probably lucky on that day, and the best guess is that they had been less lucky and had done less well on day 1. The fact that you observe regression when you predict an early event from a later event should help convince you that regression does not have a causal explanation. Regression effects are ubiquitous, and so are misguided causal stories to explain them. A well-known example is the “ Sports Illustrated jinx,” the claim that an athlete whose picture appears on the cover of the magazine is doomed to perform poorly the following season. Overconfidence and the pressure of meeting high expectations are often offered as explanations. But there is a simpler account of the jinx: an athlete who gets to be on the cover of Sports Illustrated must have performed exceptionally well in the preceding season, probably with the assistance of a nudge from luck—and luck is fickle. I happened to watch the men’s ski jump event in the Winter Olympics while Amos and I were writing an article about intuitive prediction. Each athlete has two jumps in the event, and the results are combined for the final score. I was startled to hear the sportscaster’s comments while athletes were preparing for their second jump: “Norway had a great first jump; he will be tense, hoping to protect his lead and will probably do worse” or “Sweden had a bad first jump and now he knows he has nothing to lose and will be relaxed, which should help him do better.” The commentator had obviously detected regression to the mean and had invented a causal story for which there was no evidence. The story itself could even be true. Perhaps if we measured the athletes’ pulse before each jump we might find that they are indeed more relaxed after a bad first jump. And perhaps not. The point to remember is that the change from the first to the second jump does not need a causal explanation. It is a mathematically inevitable consequence of the fact that luck played a role in the outcome of the

• From Thinking, Fast and Slow (2011)

  effect was over 50% in that study. Anchoring effects are easily observed in online trading, where the same item is often offered at different “buy now” prices. The “estimate” in fine-art auctions is also an anchor that influences the first bid. There are situations in which anchoring appears reasonable. After all, it is not surprising that people who are asked difficult questions clutch at straws, and the anchor is a plausible straw. If you know next to nothing about the trees of California and are asked whether a redwood can be taller than 1,200 feet, you might infer that this number is not too far from the truth. Somebody who knows the true height thought up that question, so the anchor may be a valuable hint. However, a key finding of anchoring research is that anchors that are obviously random can be just as effective as potentially informative anchors. When we used a wheel of fortune to anchor estimates of the proportion of African nations in the UN, the anchoring index was 44%, well within the range of effects observed with anchors that could plausibly be taken as hints. Anchoring effects of similar size have been observed in experiments in which the last few digits of the respondent’s Social Security number was used as the anchor (e.g., for estimating the number of physicians in their city). The conclusion is clear: anchors do not have their effects because people believe they are informative. The power of random anchors has been demonstrated in some unsettling ways. German judges with an average of more than fifteen years of experience on the bench first read a description of a woman who had been caught shoplifting, then rolled a pair of dice that were loaded so every roll resulted in either a 3 or a 9. As soon as the dice came to a stop, the judges were asked whether they would sentence the woman to a term in prison greater or lesser, in months, than the number showing on the dice. Finally, the judges were instructed to specify the exact prison sentence they would give to the shoplifter. On average, those who had rolled a 9 said they would sentence her to 8 months; those who rolled a 3 said they would sentence her to 5 months; the anchoring effect was 50%. Uses and Abuses of Anchors By now you should be convinced that anchoring effects—sometimes due to priming, sometimes to insufficient adjustment—are everywhere. The psychological mechanisms that produce anchoring make us far more suggestible than most of us would want to be. And of course there are quite a few people who are willing and able to exploit our gullibility. Anchoring effects explain why, for example, arbitrary rationing is an

• From Thinking, Fast and Slow (2011)

  were given an opportunity to assess the value of a house that was actually on the market. They visited the house and studied a comprehensive booklet of information that included an asking price. Half the agents saw an asking price that was substantially higher than the listed price of the house; the other half saw an asking price that was substantially lower. Each agent gave her opinion about a reasonable buying price for the house and the lowest price at which she would agree to sell the house if she owned it. The agents were then asked about the factors that had affected their judgment. Remarkably, the asking price was not one of these factors; the agents took pride in their ability to ignore it. They insisted that the listing price had no effect on their responses, but they were wrong: the anchoring effect was 41%. Indeed, the professionals were almost as susceptible to anchoring effects as business school students with no real-estate experience, whose anchoring index was 48%. The only difference between the two groups was that the students conceded that they were influenced by the anchor, while the professionals denied that influence. Powerful anchoring effects are found in decisions that people make about money, such as when they choose how much to contribute to a cause. To demonstrate this effect, we told participants in the Exploratorium study about the environmental damage caused by oil tankers in the Pacific Ocean and asked about their willingness to make an annual contribution “to save 50,000 offshore Pacific Coast seabirds from small offshore oil spills, until ways are found to prevent spills or require tanker owners to pay for the operation.” This question requires intensity matching: the respondents are asked, in effect, to find the dollar amount of a contribution that matches the intensity of their feelings about the plight of the seabirds. Some of the visitors were first asked an anchoring question, such as, “Would you be willing to pay $5…,” before the point-blank question of how much they would contribute. When no anchor was mentioned, the visitors at the Exploratorium— generally an environmentally sensitive crowd—said they were willing to pay $64, on average. When the anchoring amount was only $5, contributions averaged $20. When the anchor was a rather extravagant $400, the willingness to pay rose to an average of $143. The difference between the high-anchor and low-anchor groups was $123. The anchoring effect was above 30%, indicating that increasing the initial request by $100 brought a return of $30 in average willingness to pay. Similar or even larger anchoring effects have been obtained in numerous studies of estimates and of willingness to pay. For example, French residents of the heavily polluted Marseilles region were asked what increase in living costs they would accept if they could live in a less polluted region. The anchoring

• From Thinking, Fast and Slow (2011)

  revolves around the trouble every year.” A distinctive pattern was detected in brain activity, starting within two-tenths of a second of the onset of the odd word. Even more remarkable, the same brain response occurs at the same speed when a male voice says, “I believe I am pregnant because I feel sick every morning,” or when an upper-class voice says, “I have a large tattoo on my back.” A vast amount of world knowledge must instantly be brought to bear for the incongruity to be recognized: the voice must be identified as upper-class English and confronted with the generalization that large tattoos are uncommon in the upper class. We are able to communicate with each other because our knowledge of the world and our use of words are largely shared. When I mention a table, without specifying further, you understand that I mean a normal table. You know with certainty that its surface is approximately level and that it has far fewer than 25 legs. We have norms for a vast number of categories, and these norms provide the background for the immediate detection of anomalies such as pregnant men and tattooed aristocrats. To appreciate the role of norms in communication, consider the sentence “The large mouse climbed over the trunk of the very small elephant.” I can count on your having norms for the size of mice and elephants that are not too far from mine. The norms specify a typical or average size for these animals, and they also contain information about the range or variability within the category. It is very unlikely that either of us got the image in our mind’s eye of a mouse larger than an elephant striding over an elephant smaller than a mouse. Instead, we each separately but jointly visualized a mouse smaller than a shoe clambering over an elephant larger than a sofa. System 1, which understands language, has access to norms of categories, which specify the range of plausible values as well as the most typical cases. Seeing Causes and Intentions “Fred’s parents arrived late. The caterers were expected soon. Fred was angry.” You know why Fred was angry, and it is not because the caterers were expected soon. In your network of associations, anger and lack of punctuality are linked as an effect and its possible cause, but there is no such link between anger and the idea of expecting caterers. A coherent story was instantly constructed as you read; you immediately knew the cause of Fred’s anger. Finding such causal connections is part of understanding a story and is an automatic operation of System 1. System 2, your conscious self, was offered the causal interpretation and accepted it.

• From Thinking, Fast and Slow (2011)

  uh-uh [choking sounds]. I…I’m gonna die-er-er-er I’m…gonna die-er-er-I seizure I-er [chokes, then quiet].” At this point the microphone of the next participant automatically became active, and nothing more was heard from the possibly dying individual. What do you think the participants in the experiment did? So far as the participants knew, one of them was having a seizure and had asked for help. However, there were several other people who could possibly respond, so perhaps one could stay safely in one’s booth. These were the results: only four of the fifteen participants responded immediately to the appeal for help. Six never got out of their booth, and five others came out only well after the “seizure victim” apparently choked. The experiment shows that individuals feel relieved of responsibility when they know that others have heard the same request for help. Did the results surprise you? Very probably. Most of us think of ourselves as decent people who would rush to help in such a situation, and we expect other decent people to do the same. The point of the experiment, of course, was to show that this expectation is wrong. Even normal, decent people do not rush to help when they expect others to take on the unpleasantness of dealing with a seizure. And that means you, too. Are you willing to endorse the following statement? “When I read the procedure of the helping experiment I thought I would come to the stranger’s help immediately, as I probably would if I found myself alone with a seizure victim. I was probably wrong. If I find myself in a situation in which other people have an opportunity to help, I might not step forward. The presence of others would reduce my sense of personal responsibility more than I initially thought.” This is what a teacher of psychology would hope you would learn. Would you have made the same inferences by yourself? The psychology professor who describes the helping experiment wants the students to view the low base rate as causal, just as in the case of the fictitious Yale exam. He wants them to infer, in both cases, that a surprisingly high rate of failure implies a very difficult test. The lesson students are meant to take away is that some potent feature of the situation, such as the diffusion of responsibility, induces normal and decent people such as them to behave in a surprisingly unhelpful way. Changing one’s mind about human nature is hard work, and changing one’s mind for the worse about oneself is even harder. Nisbett and Borgida suspected that students would resist the work and the unpleasantness. Of course, the students would be able and willing to recite the details of the helping experiment on a test, and would even repeat the “official” interpretation in terms of diffusion

• From Thinking, Fast and Slow (2011)

  randomness is overwhelming—certainly more impressive than a guy making a study. The illusion of pattern affects our lives in many ways off the basketball court. How many good years should you wait before concluding that an investment adviser is unusually skilled? How many successful acquisitions should be needed for a board of directors to believe that the CEO has extraordinary flair for such deals? The simple answer to these questions is that if you follow your intuition, you will more often than not err by misclassifying a random event as systematic. We are far too willing to reject the belief that much of what we see in life is random. I began this chapter with the example of cancer incidence across the United States. The example appears in a book intended for statistics teachers, but I learned about it from an amusing article by the two statisticians I quoted earlier, Howard Wainer and Harris Zwerling. Their essay focused on a large investment, some $1.7 billion, which the Gates Foundation made to follow up intriguing findings on the characteristics of the most successful schools. Many researchers have sought the secret of successful education by identifying the most successful schools in the hope of discovering what distinguishes them from others. One of the conclusions of this research is that the most successful schools, on average, are small. In a survey of 1,662 schools in Pennsylvania, for instance, 6 of the top 50 were small, which is an overrepresentation by a factor of 4. These data encouraged the Gates Foundation to make a substantial investment in the creation of small schools, sometimes by splitting large schools into smaller units. At least half a dozen other prominent institutions, such as the Annenberg Foundation and the Pew Charitable Trust, joined the effort, as did the U.S. Department of Education’s Smaller Learning Communities Program. This probably makes intuitive sense to you. It is easy to construct a causal story that explains how small schools are able to provide superior education and thus produce high-achieving scholars by giving them more personal attention and encouragement than they could get in larger schools. Unfortunately, the causal analysis is pointless because the facts are wrong. If the statisticians who reported to the Gates Foundation had asked about the characteristics of the worst schools, they would have found that bad schools also tend to be smaller than average. The truth is that small schools are not better on average; they are simply more variable. If anything, say Wainer and Zwerling, large schools tend to produce better results, especially in higher grades where a variety of curricular options is valuable. Thanks to recent advances in cognitive psychology, we can now see clearly what Amos and I could only glimpse: the law of small numbers is part of two

• From Working Girl: On Selling Art and Selling Sex (2023)

  Legibility requires an audience; legible simply means decipherable, begging the question of what, exactly, it was that was deciphered. In art, as in sex work, legibility is often shrouded and unstable, constantly in question, emerging from a delicate scaffolding of intention, guesswork, clues, context. What is formally indistinguishable from porn, or dating app photos, or ad photos, is made legible as art because of where it is shown and who sees it and how pointedly they interpret it, and vice versa. Images are translated by their viewers and critics, to profound legal, social, and financial consequence: the art writer, the border patrol agent, the lonely traveler, the would-be buyer, the person on the other end of the phone. ~ In his famed 1972 performance art piece Seedbed, Vito Acconci masturbated while hidden underneath a foot-ramp in a SoHo gallery. Acconci’s work was widely considered to be narcissistic, so much so that he later lamented, “Seedbed might have made my career, but it also destroyed it.” Acconci’s own protocol describes the piece this way: Half-way across the room, the floor becomes a ramp that rises gradually to a height of two and a half feet at the far wall. Each day, the piece is open, from 10 A.M. to 6 P.M.: I’m underneath the ramp, moving under the viewers’ floor—I’m masturbating, I keep my masturbation going by building sexual fantasies on the footsteps above me. The viewer enters the clean white space; the viewer hears a voice from below. Photographs of the exhibit are strange: the room is barren, the walls white, with the floor sloping upward. Photographs of Acconci beneath the ramp are even stranger: the structure appears haphazard, with small supportive beams jutting between floor and ramp at odd angles, Acconci curled among them, jerking off in a fetal position. It looks claustrophobic. As visitors walked and sat above him, they heard his voice saying things like “I’m pressing my eyes into your hair.” In a 1991 interview, Richard Prince asked Acconci, “Did you really ever have an orgasm under the Seedbed?” “Yes,” he answered, and it’s not hard to imagine how. His positioning is abject, humiliating—one of the great aphrodisiacs. But asked a similar question in 2007—“Could you find it sexy?”—he clarified, “It was more of a performance. It was like, this is my job, this is what I have to do.”

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  “You mean,” answered Elinor, with forced calmness, “Mr. Willoughby’s marriage with Miss Grey. Yes, we do know it all. This seems to have been a day of general elucidation, for this very morning first unfolded it to us. Mr. Willoughby is unfathomable! Where did you hear it?” “In a stationer’s shop in Pall Mall, where I had business. Two ladies were waiting for their carriage, and one of them was giving the other an account of the intended match, in a voice so little attempting concealment, that it was impossible for me not to hear all. The name of Willoughby, John Willoughby, frequently repeated, first caught my attention; and what followed was a positive assertion that every thing was now finally settled respecting his marriage with Miss Grey—it was no longer to be a secret—it would take place even within a few weeks, with many particulars of preparations and other matters. One thing, especially, I remember, because it served to identify the man still more:—as soon as the ceremony was over, they were to go to Combe Magna, his seat in Somersetshire. My astonishment!—but it would be impossible to describe what I felt. The communicative lady I learnt, on inquiry, for I stayed in the shop till they were gone, was a Mrs. Ellison, and that, as I have been since informed, is the name of Miss Grey’s guardian.” “It is. But have you likewise heard that Miss Grey has fifty thousand pounds? In that, if in any thing, we may find an explanation.” “It may be so; but Willoughby is capable—at least I think”—he stopped a moment; then added in a voice which seemed to distrust itself, “And your sister—how did she—” “Her sufferings have been very severe. I have only to hope that they may be proportionately short. It has been, it is a most cruel affliction. Till yesterday, I believe, she never doubted his regard; and even now, perhaps—but I am almost convinced that he never was really attached to her. He has been very deceitful! and, in some points, there seems a hardness of heart about him.” “Ah!” said Colonel Brandon, “there is, indeed! But your sister does not—I think you said so—she does not consider quite as you do?” “You know her disposition, and may believe how eagerly she would still justify him if she could.” He made no answer; and soon afterwards, by the removal of the tea-things, and the arrangement of the card parties, the subject was necessarily dropped. Mrs. Jennings, who had watched them with pleasure while they were talking, and who expected to see the effect of Miss Dashwood’s communication, in such an instantaneous gaiety on Colonel Brandon’s side, as might have become a man in the bloom of youth, of hope and happiness, saw him, with amazement, remain the whole evening more serious and thoughtful than usual. CHAPTER XXXI.

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  A three weeks’ residence at Delaford, where, in his evening hours at least, he had little to do but to calculate the disproportion between thirty-six and seventeen, brought him to Barton in a temper of mind which needed all the improvement in Marianne’s looks, all the kindness of her welcome, and all the encouragement of her mother’s language, to make it cheerful. Among such friends, however, and such flattery, he did revive. No rumour of Lucy’s marriage had yet reached him:—he knew nothing of what had passed; and the first hours of his visit were consequently spent in hearing and in wondering. Every thing was explained to him by Mrs. Dashwood, and he found fresh reason to rejoice in what he had done for Mr. Ferrars, since eventually it promoted the interest of Elinor. It would be needless to say, that the gentlemen advanced in the good opinion of each other, as they advanced in each other’s acquaintance, for it could not be otherwise. Their resemblance in good principles and good sense, in disposition and manner of thinking, would probably have been sufficient to unite them in friendship, without any other attraction; but their being in love with two sisters, and two sisters fond of each other, made that mutual regard inevitable and immediate, which might otherwise have waited the effect of time and judgment. The letters from town, which a few days before would have made every nerve in Elinor’s body thrill with transport, now arrived to be read with less emotion than mirth. Mrs. Jennings wrote to tell the wonderful tale, to vent her honest indignation against the jilting girl, and pour forth her compassion towards poor Mr. Edward, who, she was sure, had quite doted upon the worthless hussy, and was now, by all accounts, almost broken-hearted, at Oxford. “I do think,” she continued, “nothing was ever carried on so sly; for it was but two days before Lucy called and sat a couple of hours with me. Not a soul suspected anything of the matter, not even Nancy, who, poor soul! came crying to me the day after, in a great fright for fear of Mrs. Ferrars, as well as not knowing how to get to Plymouth; for Lucy it seems borrowed all her money before she went off to be married, on purpose we suppose to make a show with, and poor Nancy had not seven shillings in the world; so I was very glad to give her five guineas to take her down to Exeter, where she thinks of staying three or four weeks with Mrs. Burgess, in hopes, as I tell her, to fall in with the Doctor again. And I must say that Lucy’s crossness not to take them along with them in the chaise is worse than all. Poor Mr. Edward! I cannot get him out of my head, but you must send for him to Barton, and Miss Marianne must try to comfort him.”

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  “However it may have come about,” said Elinor, after a pause,—“they are certainly married. And your mother has brought on herself a most appropriate punishment. The independence she settled on Robert, through resentment against you, has put it in his power to make his own choice; and she has actually been bribing one son with a thousand a-year, to do the very deed which she disinherited the other for intending to do. She will hardly be less hurt, I suppose, by Robert’s marrying Lucy, than she would have been by your marrying her.” “She will be more hurt by it, for Robert always was her favourite.—She will be more hurt by it, and on the same principle will forgive him much sooner.” In what state the affair stood at present between them, Edward knew not, for no communication with any of his family had yet been attempted by him. He had quitted Oxford within four and twenty hours after Lucy’s letter arrived, and with only one object before him, the nearest road to Barton, had had no leisure to form any scheme of conduct, with which that road did not hold the most intimate connection. He could do nothing till he were assured of his fate with Miss Dashwood; and by his rapidity in seeking that fate, it is to be supposed, in spite of the jealousy with which he had once thought of Colonel Brandon, in spite of the modesty with which he rated his own deserts, and the politeness with which he talked of his doubts, he did not, upon the whole, expect a very cruel reception. It was his business, however, to say that he did, and he said it very prettily. What he might say on the subject a twelvemonth after, must be referred to the imagination of husbands and wives. That Lucy had certainly meant to deceive, to go off with a flourish of malice against him in her message by Thomas, was perfectly clear to Elinor; and Edward himself, now thoroughly enlightened on her character, had no scruple in believing her capable of the utmost meanness of wanton ill-nature. Though his eyes had been long opened, even before his acquaintance with Elinor began, to her ignorance and a want of liberality in some of her opinions—they had been equally imputed, by him, to her want of education; and till her last letter reached him, he had always believed her to be a well-disposed, good-hearted girl, and thoroughly attached to himself. Nothing but such a persuasion could have prevented his putting an end to an engagement, which, long before the discovery of it laid him open to his mother’s anger, had been a continual source of disquiet and regret to him.

• From The Fixed Stars (0)

  I remember my shock the first time I met a femme lesbian. It was at a potluck in grad school. This woman was the most mainstream-pretty of all of us, with wavy blond hair and lipstick, but that night she said something about her girlfriend, that their anniversary was coming up. It was so casual, the way she mentioned it, but she had to have known what it would signal. We’d had no clue. Oh my god! I’d blurted. You’re gay? Really? She smiled and gave a shrug. It was like witnessing a Martian landing. The year was 2002, and I was twenty-four years old. It had never occurred to me that a lesbian could look like the rest of us, that lesbians could be more than one thing, that anyone could. Now Nora’s friend called me femme. She did it in a chummy way: she was femme herself, and she was proud to claim it. I knew she meant to make me feel included, to welcome me to the club. But it didn’t make me feel included. I was and have been a lot of things, none of them settled: a straight woman, a not-straight woman, a mother, a daughter, a wife in a white lace dress, a woman separated from her husband, a woman dating a woman whom some might mistake for a man. Nora’s friend tried to give me language for myself, to make both of us more comfortable, but instead I felt like I’d been calf-roped. “The mistake,” writes theorist McKenzie Wark in a letter to writer Kathy Acker, “is to make a fetish of what differentiation produces: gay/straight; butch/femme; top/bottom, etc. Whenever these get hardened into something ‘natural,’ into the law, I get suspicious.”30 Harden, like the electric-blue curing light that a dentist uses to set a newly filled cavity. [image file=image_rsrc2FK.jpg] As a teenager, I wrote a lot of poetry. My father’s best friend was a writer, and he gave me a couple of collections by Adrienne Rich. I don’t know if I knew then that Rich was a lesbian, or if I did, it didn’t mean much. But on the cusp of my thirty-seventh birthday, I took down one of the volumes and thumbed it open to “Splittings”: I refuse these givens the splitting between love and action I am choosing not to suffer uselessly and not to use her I choose to love this time for once with all my intelligence. I had tried to quarantine a part of my life that frightened me. For nearly a year after jury duty, I had tried to push it away. This time I would do something different. I wouldn’t leave me behind. 19Brandon and I lived together for six weeks after I asked for a separation. We slept in the same bed, the way we’d done for a decade. We stopped fighting at home. I wouldn’t do it anymore, wouldn’t fight where June could hear us. We continued to fight, but in therapy.

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  “That was exactly like Robert,” was his immediate observation. “And that,” he presently added, “might perhaps be in his head when the acquaintance between them first began. And Lucy perhaps at first might think only of procuring his good offices in my favour. Other designs might afterward arise.” How long it had been carrying on between them, however, he was equally at a loss with herself to make out; for at Oxford, where he had remained for choice ever since his quitting London, he had had no means of hearing of her but from herself, and her letters to the very last were neither less frequent, nor less affectionate than usual. Not the smallest suspicion, therefore, had ever occurred to prepare him for what followed;—and when at last it burst on him in a letter from Lucy herself, he had been for some time, he believed, half stupified between the wonder, the horror, and the joy of such a deliverance. He put the letter into Elinor’s hands. “DEAR SIR, “Being very sure I have long lost your affections, I have thought myself at liberty to bestow my own on another, and have no doubt of being as happy with him as I once used to think I might be with you; but I scorn to accept a hand while the heart was another’s. Sincerely wish you happy in your choice, and it shall not be my fault if we are not always good friends, as our near relationship now makes proper. I can safely say I owe you no ill-will, and am sure you will be too generous to do us any ill offices. Your brother has gained my affections entirely, and as we could not live without one another, we are just returned from the altar, and are now on our way to Dawlish for a few weeks, which place your dear brother has great curiosity to see, but thought I would first trouble you with these few lines, and shall always remain, “Your sincere well-wisher, friend, and sister, “LUCY FERRARS. “I have burnt all your letters, and will return your picture the first opportunity. Please to destroy my scrawls—but the ring with my hair you are very welcome to keep.” Elinor read and returned it without any comment. “I will not ask your opinion of it as a composition,” said Edward.—“For worlds would not I have had a letter of hers seen by you in former days.—In a sister it is bad enough, but in a wife!—how I have blushed over the pages of her writing!—and I believe I may say that since the first half year of our foolish—business—this is the only letter I ever received from her, of which the substance made me any amends for the defect of the style.”

• From The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life (1915)

  Now anthropomorphism, far from being primitive, is rather the mark of a relatively advanced civilization. In the beginning, sacred beings are conceived in the form of an animal or vegetable, from which the human form is only slowly disengaged. It will be seen below that in Australia, it is animals and plants which are the first sacred beings. Even among the Indians of North America, the great cosmic divinities, which commence to be the object of a cult there, are very frequently represented in animal forms. [131] "The difference between the animal, man and the divine being," says Réville, not without surprise, "is not felt in this state of mind, and generally it might be said that it is the animal form which is the fundamental one ." [132] To find a god made up entirely of human elements, it is necessary to advance nearly to Christianity. Here, God is a man, not only in the physical aspect in which he is temporarily made manifest, but also in the ideas and sentiments which he expresses. But even in Greece and Rome, though the gods were generally represented with human traits, many mythical personages still had traces of an animal origin: thus there is Dionysus, who is often met with in the form of a bull, or at least with the horns of a bull; there is Demeter, who is often represented with a horse's mane, there are Pan and Silenus, there are the Fauns, etc. [133] It is not at all true that man has had such an inclination to impose his own form upon things. More than that, he even commenced by conceiving of himself as participating closely in the animal nature. In fact, it is a belief almost universal in Australia, and very widespread among the Indians of North America, that the ancestors of men were beasts or plants, or at least that the first men had, either in whole or in part, the distinctive characters of certain animal or vegetable species. Thus, far from seeing beings like themselves everywhere, men commenced by believing themselves to be in the image of some beings from which they differed radically. V Finally, the animistic theory implies a consequence which is perhaps its best refutation. If it were true, it would be necessary to admit that religious beliefs are so many hallucinatory representations, without any objective foundation whatsoever. It is supposed that they are all derived from the idea of the soul because one sees only a magnified soul in the spirits and gods.

• From The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life (1915)

  It will be remembered that among the Arunta, the scene of the ceremony is determined by the ritual: it is the spot where the sacred rocks, trees and water-holes are found, and the worshippers must go there to celebrate the cult. Among the Warramunga, on the contrary, the ceremonial ground is arbitrarily chosen according to convenience. It is a conventional scene. However, the original scene of the events whose reproduction constitutes the theme of the rite is itself represented by means of designs. Sometimes these designs are made upon the very bodies of the actors. For example, a small circle coloured red, painted on the back and stomach, represents a water-hole. [1196] In other cases, the image is traced on the soil. Upon a ground previously soaked and covered with red ochre, they draw curved lines, made up of a series of white points, which symbolize a stream or a mountain. This is a beginning of decoration. In addition to the properly religious ceremonies which the ancestor is believed to have celebrated long ago, they also represent simple episodes of his career, either epic or comic. Thus, at a given moment, while three actors are on the scene, occupied in an important rite, another one hides behind a bunch of trees situated at some distance. A packet of down is attached about his neck which represents a wallaby . As soon as the principal ceremony is finished, an old man traces a line upon the ground which is directed towards the spot where the fourth actor is hidden. The others march behind him, with eyes lowered and fixed upon this line, as though following a trail. When they discover the man, they assume a stupefied air and one of them beats him with a club. This represents an incident in the life of the great black snake. One day, his son went hunting, caught a wallaby and ate it without giving his father any. The latter followed his tracks, surprised him and forced him to disgorge; it is to this that the beating at the end of the representation alludes. [1197] We shall not relate here all the mythical events which are represented successively. The preceding examples are sufficient to show the character of these ceremonies: they are dramas, but of a particular variety; they act, or at least they are believed to act, upon the course of nature. When the commemoration of Thalaualla is terminated, the Warramunga are convinced that black snakes cannot fail to increase and multiply. So these dramas are rites, and even rites which, by the nature of their efficacy, are comparable on every point to those which constitute the Intichiuma of the Arunta.

• From The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life (1915)

  That is the question which the study of the Vedas is supposed to aid in resolving. The names of the gods are generally either common words, still employed, or else words formerly common, whose original sense it is possible to discover. Now both designate the principal phenomena of nature. Thus Agni , the name of one of the principal divinities of India, originally signified only the material fact of fire, such as it is ordinarily perceived by the senses and without any mythological addition. Even in the Vedas, it is still employed with this meaning; in any case, it is well shown that this signification was primitive by the fact that it is conserved in other Indo-European languages: the Latin ignis , the Lithuanian ugnis , the old Slav ogny are evidently closely related to Agni. Similarly, the relationship of the Sanskrit Dyaus , the Greek Zeus , the Latin Jovis and the Zio of High German is to-day uncontested. This proves that these different words designate one single and the same divinity, whom the different Indo-European peoples recognized as such before their separation. Now Dyaus signifies the bright sky. These and other similar facts tend to show that among these peoples the forms and forces of nature were the first objects to which the religious sentiment attached itself: they were the first things to be deified. Going one step farther in his generalization, Max Müller thought that he was prepared to conclude that the religious evolution of humanity in general had the same point of departure. It is almost entirely by considerations of a psychological sort that he justifies these inferences. The varied spectacles which nature offers man seemed to him to fulfil all the conditions necessary for arousing religious ideas in the mind directly. In fact, he says, "at first sight, nothing seemed less natural than nature. Nature was the greatest surprise, a terror, a marvel, a standing miracle, and it was only on account of their permanence, constancy, and regular recurrence that certain features of that standing miracle were called natural, in the sense of foreseen, common, intelligible.... It was that vast domain of surprise, of terror, of marvel, of miracle, the unknown, as distinguished from the known, or, as I like to express it, the infinite, as distinct from the finite, which supplied from the earliest times the impulse to religious thought and language." [144] In order to illustrate his idea, he applies it to a natural force which holds a rather large place in the Vedic religion, fire. He says, "if you can for a moment transfer yourselves to that early stage of life to which we must refer not only the origin, but likewise the early phases of Physical Religion, you can easily understand what an impression the first appearance of fire must have made on the human mind.

• From Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity (2007)

  Essentially, this meant that I underwent electrolysis and hormone replacement therapy while continuing to live my life as a “man”: wearing the same jeans, sneakers, T-shirts, flannel shirts, and sweat-jackets I always wore and acting pretty much the same as I always had. The idea is that you simply go about your life until you reach the point where most people begin to assume that you are female despite your (tom)boyish gender presentation; some trans women refer to this as the point when they lose the ability to “pass” as a man. At the start of my transition, I had the same assumptions that most people have about gender: I believed that there were obvious, concrete differences between women and men. Thus, I figured that I would have to spend a good deal of time during my transition being “in between” genders—too physically ambiguous for people to classify as either female or male. But that didn’t really happen. To my surprise, people almost always made the call one way or another, even though their conclusion as to my gender often differed from person to person. For instance, it was common for me to go into a store and have an employee say, “Can I help you, sir?” Then a few minutes later, as I was leaving, a different employee might say, “Have a good day, ma’am.” After about a month or two of never knowing whether any given person was gendering me as female or male, I experienced a dramatic change. It felt like the world suddenly shifted around me. Almost overnight, I sensed that everything was very different. At first, I suspected that this feeling was coming from within me, perhaps a psychological or emotional change related to my being on female hormones. But then I realized that it wasn’t me, but rather the rest of the world, that was acting differently. In public, strangers began standing much closer to me. Women seemed to let their guard down around me. Men, for no apparent reason, would smile at me. Everybody spoke to me differently, interacted with me in different ways. I realized that I had passed through some sort of threshold and suddenly everybody saw me as female. The weirdest part about this experience was that I was pretty much the exact same person that I had been prior to that. I was acting and dressing the same. And over the four months I’d been on hormones, I had barely changed physically. I still had some stubble growing out of my face (although not nearly as much as before). My breasts were sore and tingling and definitely beginning to grow, but they were hardly noticeable. The only visible changes were the softening of my complexion and a little extra facial fat around my cheeks, and yet I completely lost my ability to “pass” as a man quite suddenly.

• From My Life and Loves, Vol. 1 (of 4) (1922)

  Till the trial came, everyone would have said that Charlie was far and away the better man, younger too and astonishingly powerful. But Bent evidently was no novice at the game. He side-stepped Charlie’s rush and hit out straight and hard and Charlie went down; but was up again like a flash, and went for his man in a wild rush: soon he was down again and everyone realized that sooner or later Bent must win. Fighting, however, has a large element of chance in it and as luck would have it just when Bent seemed most certain of winning, one of Charlie’s wild swings caught him on the point of the jaw and to our amazement he went, down like a log and could not be brought to for some ten minutes. It was the first time I had seen this blow and naturally we all exaggerated the force of it not knowing that a light blow up against the chin jars the spinal cord and knocks any man insensible, in fact, in many cases, such a blow results in partial paralysis and life-long weakness. Charlie was inclined to brag of his victory but Bob told him the truth and on reflection Bent’s purpose and fighting power made the deeper impression on all of us and he himself took pains next day to warn Charlie: “Don’t get in my way again”, he said to him drily, “or I’ll make meat of you.” The dire menace in his hard, face was convincing. “Oh, Hell”, replied Charlie, “who wants to get in your way!” Reflection teaches me that all the worst toughs on the border in my time were ex-soldiers: it was the Civil war that had bred those men to violence and the use of the revolver; it was the civil war that produced the “Wild Bills” and Bents who forced the good-humored Westerners to hold life cheaply and to use their guns instead of fists. One evening we noticed a large increase in the force of Indians besieging us: one chief too on a piebald mustang appeared to be urging an immediate attack and soon we found some of the “braves” stealing down the creek to outflank us, while a hundred others streamed past us at four hundred yards’ distance firing wildly. Bob and I went under the creek banks to stop the flankers while Bent and Charlie and Jo brought down more than one horse and man and taught the band of Indians that a direct attack would surely cost them many lives. Still there were only five of us and a chance bullet or two might make the odds against us desperate.

• From What My Bones Know (2022)

  The stuff we think of when we think about DNA—nose shape, eye color—only comprises about 2 percent of our total DNA. The other 98 percent is called noncoding DNA, and it is responsible for our emotions, personality, and instincts. The epigenome on top of noncoding DNA is very sensitive to stress and the environment. When a body adapts to constant, overwhelming stress—not a car accident or a bad flu, but long-lasting trauma—the epigenome changes. Trauma can turn on a gene that responds to the smell of cherry blossoms, for example. Or turn off a gene that regulates our emotions. It might turn on a gene for fear. In 2015, Rachel Yehuda, director of the Traumatic Stress Studies Division at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, conducted a study where she analyzed the FKBP5 gene, which helps control stress regulation.[3] The study showed that Holocaust survivors and their descendants shared the same epigenetic tags on the very same part of the FKBP5 gene. Then Yehuda compared those genes with those of Jewish people who lived outside of Europe and did not suffer through the Holocaust. Their epigenetic tags weren’t altered. It was clear that the trauma of experiencing the Holocaust specifically created DNA methylation on the FKBP5 gene of survivors…and their children. Even more surprising, Michael Meaney at McGill University has studied whether it’s possible to reverse this DNA methylation.[4] He had a population of mice whose mothers didn’t lick them very much growing up. These mice essentially had distracted, neglectful mothers and grew up anxious. So Meaney injected a solution into the brains of these anxious mice that could pull off the epigenetic markers. And…it worked. Afterward, the mice weren’t anxious anymore. Their stress response was completely normal. Unfortunately, there is no brain injection that works for humans. And even if there was, what might the consequences be? If I was to remove the wiring that’s been written over generations, it’d be like restoring the factory settings on a computer. And what would my default settings be? Who would I be? — Every adaptation our brain makes is an effort to better protect our bodies. Some of these backfire—the deadly result of an overactive stress response. But some might actually be advantageous to our health.

• From The Vagina Monologues (1998)

  In the workshop we were asked to look at our vaginas with hand mirrors. Then, after careful examination, we were to verbally report to the group what we saw. I must tell you that up until this point everything I knew about my vagina was based on hearsay or invention. I had never really seen the thing. It had never occurred to me to look at it. My vagina existed for me on some abstract plane. It seemed so reductive and awkward to look at it, getting down there the way we did in the workshop, on our shiny blue mats, with our hand mirrors. It reminded me of how the early astronomers must have felt with their primitive telescopes. I found it quite unsettling at first, my vagina. Like the first time you see a fish cut open and you discover this other bloody complex world inside, right under the skin. It was so raw, so red, so fresh. And the thing that surprised me most was all the layers. Layers inside layers, opening into more layers. My vagina amazed me. I couldn't speak when it came my turn in the workshop. I was speechless. I had awakened to what the woman who ran the workshop called "vaginal wonder."

• From The Vagina Monologues (1998)

  I longed to moan. I practiced in front of my mirror, on a tape recorder, moaning in various keys, various tones, with sometimes very operatic expressions, sometimes with more reserved, almost withheld expressions. But always when I played it back, it sounded fake. It was fake. It wasn't rooted in anything sexual, really, only in my desire to be sexual. But then when I was ten I had to pee really badly once. On a car trip. It went on for almost an hour and when I finally got to pee in this dirty little gas station, it was so exciting, I moaned. I moaned as I peed. I couldn't believe it, me moaning in a Texaco station somewhere in the middle of Louisiana. I realized right then that moans are connected with not getting what you want right away, with putting things off. I realized moans were best when they caught you by surprise; they came out of this hidden mysterious part of you that was speaking its own language. I realized that moans were, in fact, that language.