Marshmallows and chain reactions. (Beginning)
Marshmallows and chain reactions.
1. Marshmallows.
Long time ago now, but M. still could hear the voice in her head.
‘…studied the ability of the subjects to delay gratification and to earn more rewards this way.’ Who studied? The voice went on. ‘In other words, those subjects who could delay the pleasure by not eating their marshmallows straight away, would earn more marshmallows.’
WDoes it matter? This well-known and often cited example of learning to earn by abstinence stuck in her head forever. She wanted to ask then, and maybe, she did? Did they all want marshmallows in the same equal way? Because if they didn’t and it must be the case, this approach wouldn’t work. Those who want a pile of marshmallows won’t behave like those who want just one, or two marshmallows maximum.
It must be about rewards, all of them, she realized. It’s wrong to assume that everybody wants them equally. Of course, they don’t. Some people want marshmallows very much, some want just one or two, with my coffee, that is, want them moderately, and some not at all. It explains it. Will I behave in the same way after I became fed up with marshmallows, compared to what it was like in the very beginning, when I wanted some? No, probably not.
So what they should have done is, perhaps, divide all their subjects into those who like marshmallows a lot, not at all, and moderately. And maybe then divide each large group again. Too difficult? But it doesn’t make any sense otherwise. But maybe, it’s not a bad thing, she went on, because life does it anyway, that is, divides them, according to this criterion, or something like it.
I really don’t like marshmallows, she repeated. What does it mean? I don’t eat too many even in my head. Or rather… To be honest… I wanted them - then later on - not so much - and even later - even less, if not at all. As time goes on, I want marshmallows less and less. It becomes almost true, that I don’t want them. I think nothing of them, there are more important things. Some remain, and some don’t, and if you have to get rid of something, rewards are the first thing to go. Why is that?
I don’t like marshmallows, she said again, like a mantra. I think nothing of them. You kind of feel better, if you don’t want what everybody does. Why is that? Anyway. I don’t want marshmallows. I think nothing of them. It’s almost true, that I don’t want them. In the end they become nothing, crushed by the sheer force of my denial. They. Become. Even if this is simply because they are unattainable, too green and too high up, like grapes. Is this true? Probably not. But not everybody wants them in the same way. This must be true. Many don’t.
The whole thing shaped into a formula. ‘I don’t want to be like you, I don’t want to be with you.’ This was something she told to many people who wanted marshmallows, according to this…what do you call it? Classification, maybe? Her eye doctor. Also to the vet. Maybe the other way round. ‘Not with you, not like you.’ There should be some third member in this formula, she felt it, but she couldn’t find it. Not yet, anyway.
hose voice was it? Who said that? A school teacher? Somebody in the psychology seminar?
1. Marshmallows.
Long time ago now, but M. still could hear the voice in her head.
‘…studied the ability of the subjects to delay gratification and to earn more rewards this way.’ Who studied? The voice went on. ‘In other words, those subjects who could delay the pleasure by not eating their marshmallows straight away, would earn more marshmallows.’
WDoes it matter? This well-known and often cited example of learning to earn by abstinence stuck in her head forever. She wanted to ask then, and maybe, she did? Did they all want marshmallows in the same equal way? Because if they didn’t and it must be the case, this approach wouldn’t work. Those who want a pile of marshmallows won’t behave like those who want just one, or two marshmallows maximum.
It must be about rewards, all of them, she realized. It’s wrong to assume that everybody wants them equally. Of course, they don’t. Some people want marshmallows very much, some want just one or two, with my coffee, that is, want them moderately, and some not at all. It explains it. Will I behave in the same way after I became fed up with marshmallows, compared to what it was like in the very beginning, when I wanted some? No, probably not.
So what they should have done is, perhaps, divide all their subjects into those who like marshmallows a lot, not at all, and moderately. And maybe then divide each large group again. Too difficult? But it doesn’t make any sense otherwise. But maybe, it’s not a bad thing, she went on, because life does it anyway, that is, divides them, according to this criterion, or something like it.
I really don’t like marshmallows, she repeated. What does it mean? I don’t eat too many even in my head. Or rather… To be honest… I wanted them - then later on - not so much - and even later - even less, if not at all. As time goes on, I want marshmallows less and less. It becomes almost true, that I don’t want them. I think nothing of them, there are more important things. Some remain, and some don’t, and if you have to get rid of something, rewards are the first thing to go. Why is that?
I don’t like marshmallows, she said again, like a mantra. I think nothing of them. You kind of feel better, if you don’t want what everybody does. Why is that? Anyway. I don’t want marshmallows. I think nothing of them. It’s almost true, that I don’t want them. In the end they become nothing, crushed by the sheer force of my denial. They. Become. Even if this is simply because they are unattainable, too green and too high up, like grapes. Is this true? Probably not. But not everybody wants them in the same way. This must be true. Many don’t.
The whole thing shaped into a formula. ‘I don’t want to be like you, I don’t want to be with you.’ This was something she told to many people who wanted marshmallows, according to this…what do you call it? Classification, maybe? Her eye doctor. Also to the vet. Maybe the other way round. ‘Not with you, not like you.’ There should be some third member in this formula, she felt it, but she couldn’t find it. Not yet, anyway.
hose voice was it? Who said that? A school teacher? Somebody in the psychology seminar?