#enclothed-cognition

#enclothed-cognition

In the practice of psychiatry, we like to think we have better radar than most doctors for identifying incoherent thinking in our fellow humans. Incoherence is one of the crucial signs for potential disasters in the central nervous system-delirium, psychosis, mania, intoxication, stroke, encephalitis. And yet, now in the waning years of my career, I confess that I've practiced this skill of identifying incoherent thinking with only the vaguest definition of coherence, and no measure.

Attention is the brain's filtering mechanism; what passes through that filter is what gets encoded. What gets encoded becomes memory. And memory is the raw material of identity. So in the architecture of your identity, attention is the doorway.

Plato's choice of this word is deliberate. He is not describing neutral carriers. He is describing people whose job is manufacturing a convincing reality for an audience that cannot see behind the curtain. Here is what matters clinically: the conjurers are not necessarily villains. They may be devoted parents, conscientious teachers, or well-meaning community leaders.

In behavioral science, identity follows action. If you're generous, you'll begin to see yourself as generous. If you're a patient person, you'll come to see that as part of who you are. Over time, the brain will wire itself to repeat these patterns.

I used to save my favorite clothes for a version of my life that never showed up. The blazer stayed in my closet because it felt "too professional" for a normal day. The heels were waiting for a dinner I'd yet to be invited to. The earrings were longing for an occasion that felt important enough to justify wearing them. Meanwhile, I wore the same outfits on repeat - to work, to run errands, to all the places where my actual life was happening.

Hyperphantasia is a cognitive trait characterised by an abundance of vivid mental imagery. In an area of developing science (the term was only coined a decade ago), those who identify with this experience have an imagination of lifelike quality and can create detailed images and scenarios in their minds. It can also extend to multiple senses.

For most of my life, I thought of myself as a fixed entity: This is me. These are my traits. This is who I am. I assumed I was essentially that same person who loved sugary cereal at age 8, fried chicken at 12, and tequila at 21, and who still loves those things now, even if my stomach disagrees. But this is an illusion. Neuroscience, physics, and Buddhism all agree: There is nothing fixed about us-not even close.

This story is about complexity, advanced math, cognition, and machine computation. But hold on. For this exercise, my task is to take this complex idea and reduce it-to simplify it into something less daunting and (I hope) a bit easier to understand. So, let's take a step back. My bet is that most of us learned our first piece of geometry with two letters: x and y.

The word umwelt comes from biology, coined by ethologists studying animals in their natural habitats. It refers to the world as an organism can perceive it, based entirely on its sensory equipment. A bat's umwelt is built from echo. A dog's from scent. A tick's world is dominated by a single chemical cue that tells it when to drop from a branch onto a passing mammal.

In my previous post, I summarized my response to Christian de Weerd, who denied that a Darwinian approach to consciousness is even possible. I argued that consciousness science has unnecessarily insulated itself from the evolutionary tools that revolutionized our understanding of every other biological phenomenon, and that treating human consciousness as the paradigm case distorts our picture of consciousness as a natural phenomenon spanning millions of species across millions of years.

Take the sur­prise some have expressed in recent years upon find­ing out that the expres­sion to "pic­ture" some­thing in one's head isn't just a fig­ure of speech. You mean that peo­ple "pic­tur­ing an apple," say, haven't been just think­ing about an apple, but actu­al­ly see­ing one in their heads? The inabil­i­ty to do that has a name: aphan­ta­sia, from the Greek word phan­ta­sia, "image," and prefix - a, "with­out."

You know that split-second pause when someone asks what you do for a living at a party? That momentary calculation where you decide whether to say "I'm a writer" or "I work in content creation" or maybe throw in something about "behavioral analysis"? I've been there more times than I can count, and it got me thinking about all the tiny choices we make that secretly broadcast who we are, or who we want people to think we are.

Then I started noticing something interesting during my interviews over the years-these meticulous dressers often shared certain qualities that seemed increasingly rare. It wasn't about vanity or showing off. After interviewing over 200 people for various articles, from startup founders to burned-out middle managers, I began to see a pattern. The iron-wielders weren't trying to impress anyone. They were operating from a completely different mindset-one that psychology suggests is becoming endangered in our instant-everything world.

We've all been there: mid-story, mid-vent, mid-enthusiastic ramble, and suddenly the other person's energy shifts. Their smile fades. Their eyes wander down to their phone. Their whole body seems to quietly scream: "Please stop." Most of us don't realize when we're annoying someone. We just think we're being ourselves. We might think we're offering the type of advice our spouse really needs to hear right now.