I’m a meticulous
researcher and, I think, an honest thinker. I value my reputation in this and I
value the very real attributes themselves. I suppose that one of my main
concerns has been introducing suggestions of bias – or their overt
declarations. However, they are there.
When I use the word
“bias,” it can be in one of two ways; the more popular usage meaning, basically,
“prejudice,” often an irrational position and almost invariably an intellectual
shortcut when we have the time and resources to utilize something more
thoughtful. The other meaning, and one that I refer to often, is “bias” in the
more technical, cognitive sense, (as noted here, and in the form of
a list here).*
The latter is all
but unavoidable and, in its myriad forms, something that cannot realistically
be avoided, only dealt with mindfully. The former is of greater concern to me
as its use isn’t merely the product of our neurophysiology or a set of
cognitive or affective constructs but, often, of character. The short way to
say this would be to simply declare that it is often a reflection of laziness
or the limitations of our day to day lives in which we must pare away at one
attribute or method for the sake of another. This means having to ask ourselves
questions such as: “Do I have the time to take this on thoughtfully and
fairly?” “Am I inclined to approach relationships – my own and those of others
– in a way that fairly balances my own needs as well as those of others?” “How
inclined am I to keep my own values – solid or provisional – in front of me
under stress or tribulation… how easily will I let them go?”
Many of you already
know that my wife and I have been separated for about three-and-a-half years. I
bring this up to speak directly to the second question in the list above. As a
therapist I often saw couples – for a variety of reasons. Some issues were
easier than others. Some people were easier than others. However, in the months
leading up to our separation I was faced with one of the most disturbing
realizations of my career. It wasn’t the realization of a mistake, but of
something more fundamentally reflexive. The months leading up to our
discussions around separation or divorce (and that discussion, in and of
itself, was probably a factor in this) were incredibly stressful, as you might
guess. I could go into detail and conjecture a great deal with regard to the
particulars, but it’s probably most easily summed up in this:
I was nearly
dumbstruck the first moment that I realized, while sitting in front of couples
who liked and respected me as their therapist, that as they described their
circumstances and poured their hearts out thoughtfully or bitterly that there
was a recurring thought that came back again and again almost verbatim inside
my head: Why don’t you just get divorced?
While this was
sometimes a valid question, it was valid more often simply by coincidence. It
was easy, and I could almost say that it was representative of something lazy…
or tired. It was a real limitation, not simply a misstep, and getting around it
seemed a deeper question than simply mapping out a solution. I couldn’t help
it, and began to think of my counseling technique – at least for couples – as
something less than ideal. I began to warn my regulars of this and,
surprisingly, still had their faith. I felt both gratified and burdened by this
faith, but imagined that if I could come to even a tentative solution for
myself, I might be able to help someone else cope with this problem of bias.
Part of that
solution was something that had become apparent to me years before, also in the
practice of therapy, counseling or group counseling. It was, very simply, the
idea and implementation of commitment. I’d realized – and continue to realize –
that upon committing there is something analogous to the “I couldn’t help it”
aspect of the dilemma described above. This time, however, commitment came with
a kind of unasked for acceptance of how a given situation would play out… a
kind of equanimity that is the opposite of the “stuckness” of calculation. It
is, perhaps, the kind of being “unstuck” that Alan Watts once described:
“When you are
perfectly free to feel ‘stuck’ or ‘not stuck,’ then you’re unstuck.” (Alan
Watts – recorded lecture)
Watts wasn’t
necessarily speaking about commitment directly, but I don’t think that getting
to the place he’d described would be possible without it. I think that the
trick is to simply decide to stop struggling with it, become unstuck, write,
and let the cards fall where they will. You can decide the rest.
*I know that some
of you avoid Wikipedia on principle. While I don’t find this completely
unreasonable, I’ll add that the reference sections for individual entries, if
nothing else, can be quite a good start to a more in depth examination of
individual terms and concepts. So, I urge you to access these references and
not avoid them out of hand, particularly the psychological or cognitive ones
that I can vet for you with somewhat greater credibility.
