Ivan Petrovich Pavlov was born in 1849 in Russia, as the oldest son of a village priest. He grew up to study a bit of seminary but then jumped over to math and science, specifically physiology. He earned a 1904 Nobel Prize for his studies on digestion. However, he's best remembered for figuring out how to make a dog salivate on command.
Classical conditioning.
You ring the bell. You feed the dog. The dog salivates.
Repeat, repeat, repeat.
Eventually, you ring the bell. You skip the food. The dog salivates anyway.
"Ooooh! Science is so neat," says the crowd of onlookers.
"Wheee! I can use that on students to keep order in my classroom," says a generation of teachers.
"Bollocks! That geezer just duped me into purposeless drooling," says the dog.
I'm currently feeling sympathetic toward the dog, having gotten the brutal Pavlovian smackdown this week myself.
You see, for about two years while I lived in St Louis I would look forward to weekends with good weather as a chance to hop on the southbound interstate and drive to Alabama. It was a 6+ hour trip, but at the end of the road I knew I'd get to spend two great days skydiving and hanging out with friends.
Apparently, that travel pattern was repeated often enough that it conditioned my poor unwitting brain. A few days ago, I was driving south through Seattle on I-5 under an unseasonably sunny blue sky when suddenly I felt absolutely giddy with excitement. This was completely involuntary joy. I could practically smell the blast off the turbines, hear friends' voices, and feel the rush of air -- if I were a dog there would've been uncontrollable drooling and tail wagging. It took everything I could do to convince myself that I was just on a quick errand, not halfway across the country heading down to Cullman, AL.
Put a sun in the sky. Put my car on a southbound freeway. The Sarah salivates anyway.
Maybe the real question is how to cast this Pavlov moment.
Was I duped into feeling excitement, only to have my hopes dashed by the reality that my weekends are mainly spent with a pager instead of a parachute these days?
Or am I lucky to have such a big reservoir of vivid memories that can trigger happy thoughts at random times, even from far far away?
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| I have unlocked the code to "Psychic Secretion." |
You ring the bell. You feed the dog. The dog salivates.
Repeat, repeat, repeat.
Eventually, you ring the bell. You skip the food. The dog salivates anyway.
"Ooooh! Science is so neat," says the crowd of onlookers.
"Wheee! I can use that on students to keep order in my classroom," says a generation of teachers.
"Bollocks! That geezer just duped me into purposeless drooling," says the dog.
I'm currently feeling sympathetic toward the dog, having gotten the brutal Pavlovian smackdown this week myself.
You see, for about two years while I lived in St Louis I would look forward to weekends with good weather as a chance to hop on the southbound interstate and drive to Alabama. It was a 6+ hour trip, but at the end of the road I knew I'd get to spend two great days skydiving and hanging out with friends.
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| Women's State Record, Skydive Alabama July 2014 |
Apparently, that travel pattern was repeated often enough that it conditioned my poor unwitting brain. A few days ago, I was driving south through Seattle on I-5 under an unseasonably sunny blue sky when suddenly I felt absolutely giddy with excitement. This was completely involuntary joy. I could practically smell the blast off the turbines, hear friends' voices, and feel the rush of air -- if I were a dog there would've been uncontrollable drooling and tail wagging. It took everything I could do to convince myself that I was just on a quick errand, not halfway across the country heading down to Cullman, AL.
Put a sun in the sky. Put my car on a southbound freeway. The Sarah salivates anyway.
Maybe the real question is how to cast this Pavlov moment.
Was I duped into feeling excitement, only to have my hopes dashed by the reality that my weekends are mainly spent with a pager instead of a parachute these days?
Or am I lucky to have such a big reservoir of vivid memories that can trigger happy thoughts at random times, even from far far away?
Cast it as the second option, without a doubt. Such good memories!
ReplyDeleteSo true, Brit. So many life experiences to be thankful for!
ReplyDelete