Why the modern self improvement movement ignores human nature
Photo by Josh Nuttall on Unsplash
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It was the middle of December 2019. I was teaching English as a Foreign Language (EFL) for both Working Men’s College, in Camden, and Education First, in Waterloo. Life was good. Covid was still a rumour. My wages weren’t high but they were enough to pay my rent and have a social life.
One day I came across an opportunity for people who wanted to become cycling instructors. I’d been a cyclist since an early age, had led a Cycle Club at the last primary at which I’d been employed, and was a cycling advocate.
The price to pay wasn’t low. But something told me that this one other string to my bow would come in handy. I completed the in-person training in four days. My online assignments took a little longer but by the end of January 2020 I was a provisionally qualified cycling instructor.
Oh, life! Unpredictable life! In the event it was the cycling gig that paid my rent from the beginning of lockdown onwards.
Was it my gut that had saved me? Or had reason had a hand in my fate as well?
There’s a trendy view nowadays that one’s authenticity is better expressed through an instinctive interaction with the world. This is meant to bring out one’s true self. I don’t totally disagree with this theory. Our lives have become so technology-driven with Google calendar reminders dictating our every waking moment that a less rational approach might well be welcome.
However, what these modern gurus and influencers often forget is that human nature is not exactly set in stone. For starters, we reason things out. My decision to book a place in my cycling instructor training course may have been instinctive, but first, I had to check my bank account to see if I had enough money to pay for the training. Then, I had to work out where savings would have to be made so as not to be in the red.
It is thought that the average adult makes between 33,000 and 35,000 decisions per day. How many of those are gut-trusting, I’ve no idea. But I’d wager that there’s a fair chance that there’s a 50–50 split between rational and impulsive decision-making.
There was a time when acting instinctively kept us safe. Humans developed the reptilian brain first. This gave us a heightened sensitivity to external threats. However, eventually we acquired two other areas: our mammal brain, or limbic system, and the neocortex. It’s the latter that is involved in our conscious decision-making.
In a previous post I described how a friendship I held dear came to a sad end. It’s a classic example of how our brains work. First, it was the niggling feeling that something was not right with my friend. It was my reptilian, fight-or-flight instinct. Over time this gave way to a more rational analysis on the pros and cons of keeping this friendship going.
How we deal with situations is also dependent on previous experiences. A victim of abuse, whether physical, sexual, or emotional, will most likely react to a perceived threat by striking first or withdrawing. Trauma, especially when unaddressed, can turn us all into tongue-flicking reptiles.
Nevertheless, my initial point stands. I don’t think that the trendy “trust your gut” craze takes into account the complexity of humans. Long after the first lockdown ended and five years down the line, I traded my former English-teaching career for cycling training. I sat down and had an honest, open conversation with myself about what I wanted to do with my life. I’m glad to say that the rational part won, even if it was also propelled partially by instinct.