You know, I'm struck by how one of the implicit themes of TED is compassion, these very moving demonstrations we've just seen: HIV in Africa, President Clinton last night. And I'd like to do a little collateral thinking, if you will, about compassion and bring it from the global level to the personal. I'm a psychologist, but rest assured, I will not bring it to the scrotal.
Znate, zadivljen sam time kako je saosećajnost jedna od tema koje se podrazumevaju na TED-u. Ovi veoma dirljivi prikazi koje smo upravo videli: HIV u Africi, predsednik Klinton sinoć. Dodao bih, na jedan indirektan način, razmišljanje o saosećanju i preneo ga sa globalnog na lični nivo. Ja sam psiholog, ali ne brinite, neću svesti priču ispod pojasa.
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
There was a very important study done a while ago at Princeton Theological Seminary that speaks to why it is that when all of us have so many opportunities to help, we do sometimes, and we don't other times. A group of divinity students at the Princeton Theological Seminary were told that they were going to give a practice sermon and they were each given a sermon topic. Half of those students were given, as a topic, the parable of the Good Samaritan: the man who stopped the stranger in -- to help the stranger in need by the side of the road. Half were given random Bible topics. Then one by one, they were told they had to go to another building and give their sermon. As they went from the first building to the second, each of them passed a man who was bent over and moaning, clearly in need. The question is: Did they stop to help?
Veoma važno istraživanje sprovedeno je pre izvesnog vremena na Prinstonskoj bogosloviji, koje govori o tome zašto se dešava da iako svi imamo toliko mnogo mogućnosti da pomognemo, ponekad pomažemo, a ponekad ne. Grupi studenata teologije na Prinstonskoj bogosloviji rečeno je da će održati probnu propoved i svakom je data tema propovedi. Polovina tih studenata za temu je dobila parabolu o Dobrom Samarićaninu: o čoveku koji se zaustavio da pomogne neznancu pored puta u nevolji. Polovini je data neka slučajno odabrana tema iz Biblije. Onda je, jednom po jednom, rečeno da moraju da odu u drugu zgradu da održe propoved. Na putu iz jedne u drugu zgradu, svaki od njih prošao je pored čoveka koji je bio sagnut i stenjao je, očigledno u nevolji. Pitanje je: da li su se zaustavili da pomognu?
The more interesting question is: Did it matter they were contemplating the parable of the Good Samaritan? Answer: No, not at all. What turned out to determine whether someone would stop and help a stranger in need was how much of a hurry they thought they were in -- were they feeling they were late, or were they absorbed in what they were going to talk about. And this is, I think, the predicament of our lives: that we don't take every opportunity to help because our focus is in the wrong direction.
Još interesantnije pitanje je: da li je uticalo to što su razmišljali o paraboli o Dobrom Samarićaninu? Odgovor: Ne, uopšte. Ispostavilo se da je ono što određuje da li će se neko zaustaviti da pomogne neznancu u nevolji bilo njihovo mišljenje o tome koliko su se žurili - da li su osećali da kasne ili su bili udubljeni u ono o čemu je trebalo da pričaju. I to je, po mom mišljenju, neprilika naših života: ne prihvatamo svaku priliku da pomognemo, jer je naša pažnja usmerena u pogrešnom pravcu.
There's a new field in brain science, social neuroscience. This studies the circuitry in two people's brains that activates while they interact. And the new thinking about compassion from social neuroscience is that our default wiring is to help. That is to say, if we attend to the other person, we automatically empathize, we automatically feel with them. There are these newly identified neurons, mirror neurons, that act like a neuro Wi-Fi, activating in our brain exactly the areas activated in theirs. We feel "with" automatically. And if that person is in need, if that person is suffering, we're automatically prepared to help. At least that's the argument.
Postoji novo polje u neurologiji, socijalna neuronauka. Ona proučava povezivanje u mozgovima dvoje ljudi koje se aktivira kad su oni u interakciji. I novo mišljenje socijalne neuronauke o saosećanju je da smo programirani da pomognemo. Što znači, ako obratimo pažnju na drugu osobu, mi automatski empatišemo, automatski saosećamo. Postoje ti novootkriveni neuroni, neuroni ogledala, koji se ponašaju kao neuronska bežična mreža i u našem mozgu aktiviraju tačno one oblasti koje su aktivne u mozgu druge osobe. Mi automatski osećamo "sa". I ako je ta osoba u nevolji, ako ta osoba pati, mi smo automatski pripremljeni da pomognemo.
But then the question is: Why don't we? And I think this speaks to a spectrum that goes from complete self-absorption, to noticing, to empathy and to compassion. And the simple fact is, if we are focused on ourselves, if we're preoccupied, as we so often are throughout the day, we don't really fully notice the other. And this difference between the self and the other focus can be very subtle.
Barem tako tvrde. Ali pitanje je: zašto ne pomognemo? Mislim da se ovo odnosi na spektar koji ide od potpune okupiranosti sobom, preko primećivanja, do empatije i saosećanja. A jednostavna činjenica je ta da ako smo fokusirani na sebe, ako smo preokupirani, kao što često i jesmo u toku dana, mi zapravo ne primećujemo drugu osobu potpuno. Ova razlika između usredsređenosti na sebe i na drugog može biti vrlo suptilna.
I was doing my taxes the other day, and I got to the point where I was listing all of the donations I gave, and I had an epiphany, it was -- I came to my check to the Seva Foundation and I noticed that I thought, boy, my friend Larry Brilliant would really be happy that I gave money to Seva. Then I realized that what I was getting from giving was a narcissistic hit -- that I felt good about myself. Then I started to think about the people in the Himalayas whose cataracts would be helped, and I realized that I went from this kind of narcissistic self-focus to altruistic joy, to feeling good for the people that were being helped. I think that's a motivator.
Pre neki dan sam sređivao svoj porez i stigao sam do tačke gde navodim sve donacije koje sam dao i doživeo sam otkrovenje, naišao sam na ček za Seva Fondaciju i primetio sam kako sam pomislio, čoveče, moj prijatelj Leri Briliant bi bio presrećan što sam dao pare Sevi. Onda sam shvatio da je ono što dobijam od davanja bio narcistički udar - osećao sam se dobro u vezi sa sobom. Onda sam počeo da razmišljam o ljudima na Himalajima kojima će katarakte biti izlečene, i shvatio sam da sam se pomerio od ove narcističke samousredsređenosti na altruističku radost, na osećanje zadovoljstva zbog ljudi kojima se pomaže. Mislim da je to motiv.
But this distinction between focusing on ourselves and focusing on others is one that I encourage us all to pay attention to. You can see it at a gross level in the world of dating. I was at a sushi restaurant a while back and I overheard two women talking about the brother of one woman, who was in the singles scene. And this woman says, "My brother is having trouble getting dates, so he's trying speed dating." I don't know if you know speed dating? Women sit at tables and men go from table to table, and there's a clock and a bell, and at five minutes, bingo, the conversation ends and the woman can decide whether to give her card or her email address to the man for follow up. And this woman says, "My brother's never gotten a card, and I know exactly why. The moment he sits down, he starts talking non-stop about himself; he never asks about the woman."
Ali ova razlika između fokusiranosti na sebe i fokusiranosti na druge je ono na šta želim da obratimo pažnju. To možete u velikoj meri primetiti u sferi zabavljanja. Pre izvesnog vremena bio sam u jednom suši restoranu i načuo sam dve žene koje su razgovarale o bratu jedne od njih koji je bio samac. Jedna žena kaže: "Moj brat ima poteškoća da pronađe devojku, pa isprobava upoznavanje na brzaka." Ne znam da li znate šta je to. Žene sede za stolovima, a muškarci idu od stola do stola, tu se nalaze sat i zvono i kroz pet minuta, bingo, razgovor se završava i žena odlučuje da li da da svoj broj ili email adresu muškarcu kako bi nastavili. I ova žena priča, "Moj brat nikada nije dobio broj telefona. I tačno znam zašto. U trenutku kada sedne, on počinje neprekidno da priča o sebi, nikada ništa ne pita o ženi."
And I was doing some research in the Sunday Styles section of The New York Times, looking at the back stories of marriages -- because they're very interesting -- and I came to the marriage of Alice Charney Epstein. And she said that when she was in the dating scene, she had a simple test she put people to. The test was: from the moment they got together, how long it would take the guy to ask her a question with the word "you" in it. And apparently Epstein aced the test, therefore the article.
Malo sam istraživao u odeljku "Sunday Styles" "U Njujork Tajmsu", čitao sam priče o nastanku brakova - jer su veoma interesantne - i stigao sam do braka Alis Čarni Epstin. I ona kaže da je dok je bila sama i izlazila, imala jednostavan test koji je zadavala ljudima. Test je bio sledeći: od momenta kad se nađu, koliko dugo je potrebno momku da joj postavi pitanje koje sadrži reč "ti". I očigledno je Epstin prošao test, otuda i članak.
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
Now this is a -- it's a little test I encourage you to try out at a party. Here at TED there are great opportunities. The Harvard Business Review recently had an article called "The Human Moment," about how to make real contact with a person at work. And they said, well, the fundamental thing you have to do is turn off your BlackBerry, close your laptop, end your daydream and pay full attention to the person. There is a newly coined word in the English language for the moment when the person we're with whips out their BlackBerry or answers that cell phone, and all of a sudden we don't exist. The word is "pizzled": it's a combination of puzzled and pissed off.
Ovo je mali test koji vam savetujem da isprobate na žurci. I ovde na TED-u imate odlične prilike. U "The Harvard Business Review" nedavno je izašao članak koji se zove "Ljudski trenutak", o tome kako uspostaviti pravi kontakt sa osobom na poslu. I oni kažu pa, osnovna stvar koju treba da uradite je da isključite svoj Blekberi, zatvorite laptop, završite sa sanjarenjem i usmerite punu pažnju na osobu. Postoji jedna nova reč u engleskom jeziku za trenutak u kom osoba sa kojom smo izvadi svoj Blekberi ili se javi na mobilni i odjednom mi ne postojimo. Reč je "pizzled": kombinacija "puzzled" i "pissed off".
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
I think it's quite apt. It's our empathy, it's our tuning in which separates us from Machiavellians or sociopaths. I have a brother-in-law who's an expert on horror and terror -- he wrote the Annotated Dracula, the Essential Frankenstein -- he was trained as a Chaucer scholar, but he was born in Transylvania and I think it affected him a little bit. At any rate, at one point my brother-in-law, Leonard, decided to write a book about a serial killer. This is a man who terrorized the very vicinity we're in many years ago. He was known as the Santa Cruz strangler. And before he was arrested, he had murdered his grandparents, his mother and five co-eds at UC Santa Cruz.
Mislim da je prilično prikladno. Naša empatija, uključivanje, je ono što nas odvaja od makijavelista ili sociopata. Imam zeta koji je stručnjak za stravu i užas - napisao je "Objašnjeni drakula, suštinski Frankenštajn" - proučavao je Čosera, ali rođen je u Transilvaniji i mislim da je to malo uticalo na njega. U svakom slučaju, u jednom trenutku moj zet, Leonard, odlučuje da napiše knjigu o jednom serijskom ubici. To je čovek koji je terorisao upravo okruženje u kom se nalazimo, pre mnogo godina. Bio je poznat kao davitelj iz Santa Kruza. Pre nego što je uhapšen ubio je svoju babu i dedu, svoju majku i pet studentkinja sa Santa Kruz univerziteta u Kaliforniji.
So my brother-in-law goes to interview this killer and he realizes when he meets him that this guy is absolutely terrifying. For one thing, he's almost seven feet tall. But that's not the most terrifying thing about him. The scariest thing is that his IQ is 160: a certified genius. But there is zero correlation between IQ and emotional empathy, feeling with the other person. They're controlled by different parts of the brain.
I tako moj zet ide da intervjuiše ovog serijskog ubicu i shvata, kada ga upoznaje da je ovaj tip apsolutno zastrašujuć. Za početak, visok je preko dva metra. Ali to nije najstrašnije u vezi sa njim. Najstrašnija stvar je ta da je njegov IQ 160: osvedočeni genije. Ali korelacija između IQ i emocionalne empatije, osećanja sa drugom osobom, je nula. Kontrolišu ih različiti delovi mozga.
So at one point, my brother-in-law gets up the courage to ask the one question he really wants to know the answer to, and that is: how could you have done it? Didn't you feel any pity for your victims? These were very intimate murders -- he strangled his victims. And the strangler says very matter-of-factly, "Oh no. If I'd felt the distress, I could not have done it. I had to turn that part of me off. I had to turn that part of me off."
I u jednom trenutku moj zet skupi hrabrost da postavi to jedno pitanje na koje stvarno želi da sazna odgovor. A to je: kako si mogao to da uradiš? Zar nisi osećao nimalo sažaljenja prema svojim žrtvama? To su bila veoma intimna ubistva - on je zadavio svoje žrtve. I davitelj kaže vrlo činjenično, "O, ne. Da sam osećao patnju, ne bih mogao to da uradim. Morao sam da isključim taj deo sebe.
And I think that that is very troubling,
Morao sam da isključim taj deo sebe."
and in a sense, I've been reflecting on turning that part of us off. When we focus on ourselves in any activity, we do turn that part of ourselves off if there's another person. Think about going shopping and think about the possibilities of a compassionate consumerism. Right now, as Bill McDonough has pointed out, the objects that we buy and use have hidden consequences. We're all unwitting victims of a collective blind spot. We don't notice and don't notice that we don't notice the toxic molecules emitted by a carpet or by the fabric on the seats. Or we don't know if that fabric is a technological or manufacturing nutrient; it can be reused or does it just end up at landfill? In other words, we're oblivious to the ecological and public health and social and economic justice consequences of the things we buy and use. In a sense, the room itself is the elephant in the room, but we don't see it. And we've become victims of a system that points us elsewhere. Consider this.
I mislim da je upravo to veoma uznemiravajuće. I na neki način sam razmišljao o isključivanju tog našeg dela. Kad se fokusiramo na sebe u bilo kojoj aktivnosti, mi stvarno isključimo taj deo sebe ako je tu neka druga osoba. Pomislite na odlazak u kupovinu i pomislite na mogućnosti saosećajnog konzumerizma. U ovom trenutku, kako je Bil MekDana istakao, predmeti koje kupujemo i koristimo imaju skrivene posledice. Svi smo nenamerne žrtve kolektivne slepe mrlje. Ne primećujemo i ne primećujemo da ne primećujemo toksične molekule koje ispušta neki tepih ili tkanina sa sedišta. Ili ne znamo da li je ta tkanina tehnološki ili fabrički hranljiva; da li se može ponovo koristiti ili jednostavno završi na deponiji? Drugim rečima, nismo svesni ekološkog i javnog zdravlja i socijalnih i ekonomskih posledica stvari koje kupujemo i koristimo. Na neki način, sama soba je slon u sobi, ali mi ga ne vidimo. I postali smo žrtve sistema koji nas usmerava na druge strane.
There's a wonderful book called
Razmislite o ovome.
Stuff: The Hidden Life of Everyday Objects. And it talks about the back story of something like a t-shirt. And it talks about where the cotton was grown and the fertilizers that were used and the consequences for soil of that fertilizer. And it mentions, for instance, that cotton is very resistant to textile dye; about 60 percent washes off into wastewater. And it's well known by epidemiologists that kids who live near textile works tend to have high rates of leukemia. There's a company, Bennett and Company, that supplies Polo.com, Victoria's Secret -- they, because of their CEO, who's aware of this, in China formed a joint venture with their dye works to make sure that the wastewater would be properly taken care of before it returned to the groundwater. Right now, we don't have the option to choose the virtuous t-shirt over the non-virtuous one. So what would it take to do that?
Postoji izvanredna knjiga koja se zove "Stvari: skriveni život svakodnevnih predmeta". I govori o poreklu na primer majice. Govori o tome gde je pamuk uzgajan i o đubrivima koja su korišćena i posledicama koje imaju na tlo. I spominje, na primer, da je pamuk veoma otporan na boju za tekstil; otprilike 60 procenata se ispere i ode u otpadnu vodu. A epidemiolozi veoma dobro znaju da deca koja žive blizu tekstilnih fabrika često obolevaju od leukemije. Ima jedna kompanija, "Bennett and Company" koja snabdeva Polo.com, Victoria's Secret - oni su, zbog svog generalnog direktora koji je svestan ovoga, osnovali u Kini zajedničku firmu sa svojim proizvođačima boje kako bi osigurali da se otpadne vode prečiste na odgovarajući način pre nego što se vrate u podzemne vode. Trenutno nemamo mogućnost da izaberemo plemenite majice nad ne-plemenitim. Šta bi bilo potrebno da bi se to ostvarilo?
Well, I've been thinking. For one thing, there's a new electronic tagging technology that allows any store to know the entire history of any item on the shelves in that store. You can track it back to the factory. Once you can track it back to the factory, you can look at the manufacturing processes that were used to make it, and if it's virtuous, you can label it that way. Or if it's not so virtuous, you can go into -- today, go into any store, put your scanner on a palm onto a barcode, which will take you to a website. They have it for people with allergies to peanuts. That website could tell you things about that object. In other words, at point of purchase, we might be able to make a compassionate choice.
Razmišljao sam o tome. Za početak, postoji nova tehnologija elektronskog obeležavanja koja omogućava bilo kojoj prodavnici da zna celokupnu istoriju svakog predmeta koji se nalazi na policama u toj radnji. Možete ga pratiti unazad sve do fabrike. Kada saznate iz koje je fabrike, možete saznati na koji način je proizveden, i ako je prihvatljiv možete ga tako označiti. Ili ako nije prihvatljiv, možete otići u bilo koju radnju danas i skenirati bar kod koji će vas odvesti na vebsajt. To postoji zbog ljudi koji su alergični na kikiriki. Taj sajt će vam dati podatke o tom predmetu. Drugim rečima, u trenutku kupovine moći ćemo saosećajno da biramo.
There's a saying in the world of information science: ultimately everybody will know everything. And the question is: will it make a difference? Some time ago when I was working for The New York Times, it was in the '80s, I did an article on what was then a new problem in New York -- it was homeless people on the streets. And I spent a couple of weeks going around with a social work agency that ministered to the homeless. And I realized seeing the homeless through their eyes that almost all of them were psychiatric patients that had nowhere to go. They had a diagnosis. It made me -- what it did was to shake me out of the urban trance where, when we see, when we're passing someone who's homeless in the periphery of our vision, it stays on the periphery. We don't notice and therefore we don't act.
Postoji jedna izreka u informatičkom svetu: na kraju krajeva, svi će znati sve. A pitanje je: da li će to nešto promeniti? Ranije dok sam radio za "Njujork Tajms", bilo je to osamdesetih, napisao sam članak o onome što je tada bio novi problem u Njujorku - o beskućnicima na ulicama. Proveo sam dve nedelje idući okolo sa socijalnim radnicima koji su pomagali beskućnicima. Gledajući beskućnike njihovim očima, shvatio sam da su to većinom psihijatrijski pacijenti koji nisu imali kuda da odu. Imali su dijagnozu. To me je protreslo iz urbanog transa u kom, kada u prolazu vidimo nekoga ko je beskućnik, on ostaje na periferiji našeg vida. Ne primećujemo i stoga ni ne reagujemo.
One day soon after that -- it was a Friday -- at the end of the day, I went down -- I was going down to the subway. It was rush hour and thousands of people were streaming down the stairs. And all of a sudden as I was going down the stairs I noticed that there was a man slumped to the side, shirtless, not moving, and people were just stepping over him -- hundreds and hundreds of people. And because my urban trance had been somehow weakened, I found myself stopping to find out what was wrong. The moment I stopped, half a dozen other people immediately ringed the same guy. And we found out that he was Hispanic, he didn't speak any English, he had no money, he'd been wandering the streets for days, starving, and he'd fainted from hunger. Immediately someone went to get orange juice, someone brought a hotdog, someone brought a subway cop. This guy was back on his feet immediately. But all it took was that simple act of noticing, and so I'm optimistic.
Jednog dana ubrzo posle toga - bio je petak, kraj dana, silazio sam u podzemnu železnicu. Bio je špic i hiljade ljudi je jurilo niz stepenice. Dok sam silazio, odjednom sam primetio da neki čovek čuči sa strane, bez majice, ne pomera se, a ljudi samo prelaze preko njega - stotine i stotine ljudi. I pošto je moj urbani trans bio oslabljen, zastao sam da vidim šta nije u redu. U momentu kad sam se zaustavio, još šestoro drugih ljudi je primetilo tog čoveka. Saznali smo da je Hispano, nije uopšte znao engleski, nije imao para, lutao je ulicama danima, izgladneo, i onesvestio se od gladi. U trenutku je neko doneo sok, neko je doneo hotdog, neko je pozvao policajca. Čovek je ubrzo ponovo bio na nogama. A samo je bilo potrebno primetiti. I zato sam optimističan.
Thank you very much.
Hvala vam mnogo.
(Applause)
(Aplauz)