I'm going to talk today about the pleasures of everyday life. But I want to begin with a story of an unusual and terrible man. This is Hermann Goering. Goering was Hitler's second in command in World War II, his designated successor. And like Hitler, Goering fancied himself a collector of art. He went through Europe, through World War II, stealing, extorting and occasionally buying various paintings for his collection. And what he really wanted was something by Vermeer. Hitler had two of them, and he didn't have any. So he finally found an art dealer, a Dutch art dealer named Han van Meegeren, who sold him a wonderful Vermeer for the cost of what would now be 10 million dollars. And it was his favorite artwork ever.
Danes bom govoril o užitkih vsakdanjega življenja. Ampak začel bi rad z zgodbo o nenavadnem in groznem človeku. To je Hermann Göring. Göring je bil Hitlerjev namestnik v drugi svetovni vojni, njegov imenovani naslednik. In prav tako kot Hitler, je bil tudi Göring zbiratelj umetniških del. V času druge svetovne vojne je po Evropi kradel, izsiljeval in občasno kupoval različne slike za njegovo zbirko. In resnično si je želel delo Vermeera. Hitler je imel že dve, sam pa še nobenega. Tako je končno našel trgovca z umetninami, nizozemskega trgovca po imenu Han van Meegeren, ki mu je prodal čudovito delo Vermeera za ceno, ki bi danes znašala 10 milijonov dolarjev. Bilo je njegovo najljubše umetniško delo vseh časov.
World War II came to an end, and Goering was captured, tried at Nuremberg and ultimately sentenced to death. Then the Allied forces went through his collections and found the paintings and went after the people who sold it to him. And at some point the Dutch police came into Amsterdam and arrested Van Meegeren. Van Meegeren was charged with the crime of treason, which is itself punishable by death. Six weeks into his prison sentence, van Meegeren confessed. But he didn't confess to treason. He said, "I did not sell a great masterpiece to that Nazi. I painted it myself; I'm a forger." Now nobody believed him. And he said, "I'll prove it. Bring me a canvas and some paint, and I will paint a Vermeer much better than I sold that disgusting Nazi. I also need alcohol and morphine, because it's the only way I can work." (Laughter) So they brought him in. He painted a beautiful Vermeer. And then the charges of treason were dropped. He had a lesser charge of forgery, got a year sentence and died a hero to the Dutch people. There's a lot more to be said about van Meegeren, but I want to turn now to Goering, who's pictured here being interrogated at Nuremberg.
Druga svetovna vojna se je končala in Göring je bil zajet ter po sojenju v Nürnbergu obsojen na smrt. Zavezniške sile so prebrskale njegove zbirke, našle slike in začele iskati ljudi, ki so mu jih prodali. Na neki točki je nizozemska policija prišla v Amsterdam in aretirala Van Meegerena. Bil je obsojen izdaje, ki je kaznovana s smrtjo. Po šestih tednih zaporniške kazni je van Meegeren priznal. Ampak ni priznal izdaje. Dejal je: "Nisem prodal velike umetnine tistemu nacistu. Sam sem jo naslikal; ponarejevalec sem." Nihče mu ni verjel. In je dejal: "To bom dokazal. Prinesite mi platno in nekaj barve in naslikal bom Vermeera, mnogo boljšega od tistega, ki sem ga prodal ostudnemu nacistu. Potrebujem tudi alkohol in morfij, saj le tako lahko delam." (Smeh) Privedli so ga. Naslikal je čudovitega Vermeera in nato so bile obtožbe izdaje opuščene. Bil je obsojen ponarejanja, dobil leto dni zapora in umrl kot junak nizozemskega ljudstva. Še veliko je za povedati o van Meegerenu, vendar se sedaj želim vrniti k Göringu, ki je na tej sliki prikazan na zasliševanju v Nürnbergu.
Now Goering was, by all accounts, a terrible man. Even for a Nazi, he was a terrible man. His American interrogators described him as an amicable psychopath. But you could feel sympathy for the reaction he had when he was told that his favorite painting was actually a forgery. According to his biographer, "He looked as if for the first time he had discovered there was evil in the world." (Laughter) And he killed himself soon afterwards. He had discovered after all that the painting he thought was this was actually that. It looked the same, but it had a different origin, it was a different artwork.
Göring je bil, v vseh pogledih, grozen človek. Celo za nacista je bil grozen človek. Njegovi ameriški zasliševalci so ga opisali kot prisrčnega psihopata. Ampak lahko si sočustvoval z njegovo reakcijo, ko je izvedel, da je njegova najljubša slika dejansko ponaredek. Glede na pričevanje njegovega biografa je "izgledal, kot da je prvič odkril, da na svetu obstaja zlo." (Smeh) Kmalu zatem se je ubil. Navsezadnje je odkril, da je slika, za katero je mislil, da je ta, bila dejansko ta. Izgledala je enako, vendar je imela drug izvor, bila je druga umetnina.
It wasn't just him who was in for a shock. Once van Meegeren was on trial, he couldn't stop talking. And he boasted about all the great masterpieces that he himself had painted that were attributed to other artists. In particular, "The Supper at Emmaus" which was viewed as Vermeer's finest masterpiece, his best work -- people would come [from] all over the world to see it -- was actually a forgery. It was not that painting, but that painting. And when that was discovered, it lost all its value and was taken away from the museum.
Toda ni bil samo on presenečen. Ko se je sojenje van Meegerenu začelo, ni mogel prenehati govoriti. Bahal se je z vsemi mojstrovinami, ki jih je sam naslikal in ki so bile pripisane drugim avtorjem. Zlasti "Večerja v Emavsu," ki je veljala za Vermeerjevo najlepšo umetnino - ljudje so prihajali z vseh koncev sveta, da bi jo videli - je bila dejansko ponaredek. Ni bila ta slika, namreč ta slika. In ko je bilo to ugotovljeno, je izgubila vso svojo vrednost in bila odstranjena iz muzeja.
Why does this matter? I'm a psychologists -- why do origins matter so much? Why do we respond so much to our knowledge of where something comes from? Well there's an answer that many people would give. Many sociologists like Veblen and Wolfe would argue that the reason why we take origins so seriously is because we're snobs, because we're focused on status. Among other things, if you want to show off how rich you are, how powerful you are, it's always better to own an original than a forgery because there's always going to be fewer originals than forgeries. I don't doubt that that plays some role, but what I want to convince you of today is that there's something else going on. I want to convince you that humans are, to some extent, natural born essentialists. What I mean by this is we don't just respond to things as we see them, or feel them, or hear them. Rather, our response is conditioned on our beliefs, about what they really are, what they came from, what they're made of, what their hidden nature is. I want to suggest that this is true, not just for how we think about things, but how we react to things.
Zakaj je to pomembno? Sam sem psiholog - zakaj je izvor tako zelo pomemben? Zakaj se tako močno odzovemo na naše znanje o tem, od kod kaj prihaja? Obstaja odgovor, ki bi ga ponudilo veliko ljudi. Mnogo sociologov, kot sta Veblen in Wolfe, bi trdilo, da je razlog za tako resen pristop k izvoru v tem, ker smo snobi, ker se preveč osredotočamo na status. Med drugim, če želite pokazati, kako bogati in vplivni ste, je vedno bolje imeti v lasti original kot ponaredek, saj bo vedno obstajalo manj originalov kot ponaredkov. Ne dvomim, da to igra neko vlogo, ampak danes bi vas rad prepričal, da se dogaja še nekaj drugega. Rad bi vas prepričal, da smo ljudje, do neke mere, naravni esencialisti. S tem mislim na to, da se ne odzovemo zgolj na stvari, kot jih vidimo, čutimo ali slišimo. Naš odziv je pravzaprav pogojen z našimi prepričanji o tem, kar dejansko so, od koder prihajajo, iz česa so narejene, kaj tiči v njihovi skriti naravi. Rad bi nakazal, da to ne drži zgolj za to, kako razmišljamo o stvareh, ampak tudi kako se na stvari odzovemo. Rad bi torej predlagal, da je užitek globok -
So I want to suggest that pleasure is deep -- and that this isn't true just for higher level pleasures like art, but even the most seemingly simple pleasures are affected by our beliefs about hidden essences. So take food. Would you eat this? Well, a good answer is, "It depends. What is it?" Some of you would eat it if it's pork, but not beef. Some of you would eat it if it's beef, but not pork. Few of you would eat it if it's a rat or a human. Some of you would eat it only if it's a strangely colored piece of tofu. That's not so surprising.
in da to ne drži zgolj za užitke višje ravni, kot je umetnost, ampak da celo na navidezno najpreprostejše užitke vplivajo naša prepričanja o skritem bistvu. Vzemimo za primer hrano. Bi jedli to? No, dober odgovor je: "Odvisno. Kaj je to?" Nekateri bi jedli, če je svinjina in ne govedina. Nekateri bi to jedli, če je govedina in ne svinjina. Redki od vas bi to jedli, če je podgana ali človek. Nekateri bi to jedli zgolj, če je čudno obarvan kos tofuja. To ni tako presenetljivo.
But what's more interesting is how it tastes to you will depend critically on what you think you're eating. So one demonstration of this was done with young children. How do you make children not just be more likely to eat carrots and drink milk, but to get more pleasure from eating carrots and drinking milk -- to think they taste better? It's simple, you tell them they're from McDonald's. They believe McDonald's food is tastier, and it leads them to experience it as tastier.
Kar je bolj zanimivo je, da je stopnja okusnosti izredno odvisna od tega, kaj mislite, da jeste. Demonstracija tega je bila narejena z otroki. Kako otroke prepričati, da bodo jedli korenje in pili mleko in da bodo v tem tudi uživali - da bodo mislili, da je okusnejše? Preprosto - rečete jim, da je iz McDonald's-a. Verjamejo, da je hrana iz McDonald's-a okusnejša in zaradi tega jo tudi doživljajo kot okusnejšo.
How do you get adults to really enjoy wine? It's very simple: pour it from an expensive bottle. There are now dozens, perhaps hundreds of studies showing that if you believe you're drinking the expensive stuff, it tastes better to you. This was recently done with a neuroscientific twist. They get people into a fMRI scanner, and while they're lying there, through a tube, they get to sip wine. In front of them on a screen is information about the wine. Everybody, of course, drinks exactly the same wine. But if you believe you're drinking expensive stuff, parts of the brain associated with pleasure and reward light up like a Christmas tree. It's not just that you say it's more pleasurable, you say you like it more, you really experience it in a different way.
Kako pripraviti odrasle, da bodo zares uživali v vinu? Zelo preprosto je: nalijte ga iz drage steklenice. Obstaja na ducate, morda na stotine študij, ki kažejo, da je zaradi prepričanja o pitju nečesa dragega to zate okusnejše. Nedavno je bilo to narejeno z nevroznanstvenim preobratom. Ljudi namestijo v fMRI skener in medtem ko v njem ležijo, skozi cevko srkajo vino. Pred njimi je zaslon z informacijami o vinu. Vsi, seveda, pijejo popolnoma isto vino. Vendar, če verjameš, da piješ dražjega, se deli možganov, povezani z užitkom in nagrado, zasvetijo kot božično drevo. Ni stvar zgolj v tem, da rečeš, da bolj uživaš in ti je bolj všeč, ampak resnično to doživljaš drugače.
Or take sex. These are stimuli I've used in some of my studies. And if you simply show people these pictures, they'll say these are fairly attractive people. But how attractive you find them, how sexually or romantically moved you are by them, rests critically on who you think you're looking at. You probably think the picture on the left is male, the one on the right is female. If that belief turns out to be mistaken, it will make a difference. (Laughter) It will make a difference if they turn out to be much younger or much older than you think they are. It will make a difference if you were to discover that the person you're looking at with lust is actually a disguised version of your son or daughter, your mother or father. Knowing somebody's your kin typically kills the libido. Maybe one of the most heartening findings from the psychology of pleasure is there's more to looking good than your physical appearance. If you like somebody, they look better to you. This is why spouses in happy marriages tend to think that their husband or wife looks much better than anyone else thinks that they do.
Ali na primer seks. To so dražljaji, ki sem jih uporabil v nekaterih mojih študijah. Če ljudem preprosto pokažemo te slike, bodo dejali, da sta to precej privlačna človeka. Ampak, kako privlačna se vam zdita, kako seksualno ali romantično vas ganejo, je kritično odvisno od tega, koga mislite, da gledate. Verjetno mislite, da je levo slika moškega in desno slika ženske. Če se to izkaže za napačno, bi to spremenilo vaše mnenje. (Smeh) Vplivalo bi tudi, če se izkaže, da sta veliko mlajša ali starejša, kot mislite, da sta. Na sliko bi gledali drugače, če bi odkrili, da je oseba, ki jo gledate s poželenjem, zakrinkana verzija vašega sina ali hčerke, vaše matere ali očeta. Vedenje o sorodstvu navadno ubije libido. Morda eno izmed bolj ohrabrujočih odkritij s področja psihologije užitka je, da za dobrim izgledom stoji več kot zgolj fizična pojava. Če ti je nekdo všeč, zate izgleda bolje. Zaradi tega so pari v srečnih zakonih nagnjeni k mišljenju, da njihov mož ali žena izgleda veliko bolje, kot mislijo ostali.
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
A particularly dramatic example of this comes from a neurological disorder known as Capgras syndrome. So Capgras syndrome is a disorder where you get a specific delusion. Sufferers of Capgras syndrome believe that the people they love most in the world have been replaced by perfect duplicates. Now often, a result of Capgras syndrome is tragic. People have murdered those that they loved, believing that they were murdering an imposter. But there's at least one case where Capgras syndrome had a happy ending. This was recorded in 1931. "Research described a woman with Capgras syndrome who complained about her poorly endowed and sexually inadequate lover." But that was before she got Capgras syndrome. After she got it, "She was happy to report that she has discovered that he possessed a double who was rich, virile, handsome and aristocratic." Of course, it was the same man, but she was seeing him in different ways.
Posebno dramatičen primer tega izhaja iz nevrološke motnje imenovane Capgrasov sindrom. Capgrasov sindrom je motnja, kjer je oseba podvržena posebni zablodi. Osebe, ki trpijo za tem sindromom verjamejo, da so bili njihovi najbližji zamenjani s popolnimi dvojniki. Pogosto so lahko rezultati Capgrasovega sindroma tragični. Ljudje so umorili ljubljene, misleč, da gre za vsiljivce. Obstaja pa vsaj en primer, kjer se je Capgrasov sindrom končal srečno. To je bilo zabeleženo leta 1931. "Študija je opisala žensko s Capgrasovim sindromom, ki se je pritoževala nad slabo obdarjenim in seksualno neprimernim ljubimcem." Ampak to je bilo preden je dobila Capgrasov sindrom. Po tem "je z veseljem poročala o odkritju o njegovem dvojniku, ki je bogat, možat, lep in aristokratičen." Seveda je šlo za istega moškega, a ga je gledala na drugačen način.
As a third example, consider consumer products. So one reason why you might like something is its utility. You can put shoes on your feet; you can play golf with golf clubs; and chewed up bubble gum doesn't do anything at all for you. But each of these three objects has value above and beyond what it can do for you based on its history. The golf clubs were owned by John F. Kennedy and sold for three-quarters of a million dollars at auction. The bubble gum was chewed up by pop star Britney Spears and sold for several hundreds of dollars. And in fact, there's a thriving market in the partially eaten food of beloved people. (Laughter) The shoes are perhaps the most valuable of all. According to an unconfirmed report, a Saudi millionaire offered 10 million dollars for this pair of shoes. They were the ones thrown at George Bush at an Iraqi press conference several years ago.
Kot tretji primer pomislite na potrošniške izdelke. En razlog, zakaj bi vam nekaj bilo všeč, je uporabnost. Čevlje lahko obujete; s palicami za golf lahko igrate golf; in od prežvečenega žvečilnega gumija nimate nobene koristi. Vendar ima vsak od teh predmetov vrednost onkraj njegove koristi za vas, temelječo na njegovi zgodovini. Palice za golf so pripadale Johnu F. Kennedyju in so bile na dražbi prodane za tri četrt milijona dolarjev. Žvečilni gumi je prežvečila pop zvezda Britney Spears, prodan pa je bil za več sto dolarjev. Dejansko obstaja cvetoč trg za delno zaužito hrano priljubljenih ljudi. (Smeh) Ti čevlji so morda od vseh najbolj dragoceni. Glede na nepotrjeno poročilo je saudski milijonar ponudil 10 milijonov dolarjev za ta par čevljev. Bili so tisti, vrženi v Georgea Busha na iraški novinarski konferenci pred nekaj leti.
(Applause)
(Aplavz)
Now this attraction to objects doesn't just work for celebrity objects. Each one of us, most people, have something in our life that's literally irreplaceable, in that it has value because of its history -- maybe your wedding ring, maybe your child's baby shoes -- so that if it was lost, you couldn't get it back. You could get something that looked like it or felt like it, but you couldn't get the same object back. With my colleagues George Newman and Gil Diesendruck, we've looked to see what sort of factors, what sort of history, matters for the objects that people like. So in one of our experiments, we asked people to name a famous person who they adored, a living person they adored.
Ta privlačnost do predmetov ne deluje zgolj za predmete znanih oseb. Vsakdo izmed nas, večina ljudi, ima v življenju nekaj, kar je dobesedno nezamenljivo. Vrednost te stvari pa prihaja iz njene zgodovine - morda vaš poročni prstan, morda otroški čevlji vašega potomca - in če bi bila izgubljena, je ne bi mogli dobiti nazaj. Lahko bi dobili nekaj, kar je tako na videz in otip, ampak istega predmeta ne bi mogli dobiti nazaj. S kolegoma Georgeom Newmanom in Gilom Diesendruckom smo preverili, kateri dejavniki, kakšna zgodovina je pomembna pri predmetih, ki so ljudem všeč. V enem izmed naših eksperimentov smo ljudi vprašali po znanih osebah, ki jih obožujejo, še živečih oseb, ki jih obožujejo.
So one answer was George Clooney. Then we asked them, "How much would you pay for George Clooney's sweater?" And the answer is a fair amount -- more than you would pay for a brand new sweater or a sweater owned by somebody who you didn't adore. Then we asked other groups of subjects -- we gave them different restrictions and different conditions. So for instance, we told some people, "Look, you can buy the sweater, but you can't tell anybody you own it, and you can't resell it." That drops the value of it, suggesting that that's one reason why we like it. But what really causes an effect is you tell people, "Look, you could resell it, you could boast about it, but before it gets to you, it's thoroughly washed." That causes a huge drop in the value. As my wife put it, "You've washed away the Clooney cooties."
Eden izmed odgovorov je bil George Clooney. Nato smo jih vprašali: "Koliko bi odšteli za njegov pulover?" In odgovor je precej visoka vrednost - več kot bi plačali za popolnoma nov pulover ali pulover, ki je pripadal nekomu, ki ga niso oboževali. Nato smo vprašali drugo skupino - podali smo jim drugačne omejitve in drugačne pogoje. Na primer, nekaterim izmed njih smo dejali: "Poglejte, lahko kupite pulover, ampak nikomur ne smete povedati, da ga imate in ne smete ga prodati naprej." Zaradi tega je njegova cena upadla, kar nakazuje na enega od razlogov, zakaj nam je všeč. Ampak resnično vpliva na rezultate, če rečemo: "Lahko ga prodate naprej, lahko se bahate, vendar bo, preden ga dobite, temeljito opran." To je povzročilo ogromen padec v vrednosti. Kot pravi moja žena, smo s tem "odplaknili Clooneyjeve bacile."
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
So let's go back to art. I would love a Chagall. I love the work of Chagall. If people want to get me something at the end of the conference, you could buy me a Chagall. But I don't want a duplicate, even if I can't tell the difference. That's not because, or it's not simply because, I'm a snob and want to boast about having an original. Rather, it's because I want something that has a specific history. In the case of artwork, the history is special indeed. The philosopher Denis Dutton in his wonderful book "The Art Instinct" makes the case that, "The value of an artwork is rooted in assumptions about the human performance underlying its creation." And that could explain the difference between an original and a forgery. They may look alike, but they have a different history. The original is typically the product of a creative act, the forgery isn't. I think this approach can explain differences in people's taste in art.
Pa se vrnimo nazaj k umetnosti. Rad bi imel Chagalla. Rad imam njegovo delo. Če bi mi kdo rad kaj podaril ob koncu konference, mi lahko kupi Chagalla. Vendar nočem kopije, čeprav ne bi opazil razlike. To ni zato, oziroma ni preprosto zato, ker sem snob in se hočem bahati z originalom. To je zato, ker si želim nečesa z določeno zgodovino. V primeru umetniških del je zgodovina zares posebna. Filozof Denis Dutton v svoji čudoviti knjigi "The Art Instinct" ugotavlja, da je "vrednost umetniškega dela zakoreninjena v domnevah o človeškem delu, potrebnem za njegovo stvaritev. " To bi lahko pojasnilo razliko med originalom in ponaredkom. Lahko sta podobna, vendar z različno zgodovino. Original je tipično produkt kreativnega dejanja, ponaredek pa ne. Menim, da tovrsten pristop lahko pojasni razlike v različnih okusih za umetnost.
This is a work by Jackson Pollock. Who here likes the work of Jackson Pollock? Okay. Who here, it does nothing for them? They just don't like it. I'm not going to make a claim about who's right, but I will make an empirical claim about people's intuitions, which is that, if you like the work of Jackson Pollock, you'll tend more so than the people who don't like it to believe that these works are difficult to create, that they require a lot of time and energy and creative energy. I use Jackson Pollock on purpose as an example because there's a young American artist who paints very much in the style of Jackson Pollock, and her work was worth many tens of thousands of dollars -- in large part because she's a very young artist.
To je delo Jacksona Pollocka. Komu izmed vas so njegova dela všeč? Dobro. Na koga izmed vas sploh ne vplivajo? Komu preprosto niso všeč? Ne bom trdil, kdo ima prav, bom pa postavil empirično trditev o človeški intuiciji: Če vam je delo Jacksona Pollocka všeč, ste bolj kot ljudje, ki jim to ni všeč, nagnjeni k prepričanju, da je ta dela težko ustvariti, da je zanje potrebno veliko časa in energije ter kreativne energije. Jacksona Pollocka kot primer uporabljam namenoma, saj obstaja mlada ameriška umetnica, ki slika v njegovem stilu. Njena dela so bila vredna več deset tisoč dolarjev - v glavnem zato, ker je zelo mlada umetnica.
This is Marla Olmstead who did most of her work when she was three years old. The interesting thing about Marla Olmstead is her family made the mistake of inviting the television program 60 Minutes II into their house to film her painting. And they then reported that her father was coaching her. When this came out on television, the value of her art dropped to nothing. It was the same art, physically, but the history had changed.
To je Marla Olmstead, ki je večino del napravila, ko je bila stara tri leta. Zanimivo glede Marle Olmstead je, da je njena družina napravila napako, ko je v svoj dom povabila televizijski program 60 Minut, da bi jo posneli kako slika. Nato so poročali, da jo uči njen oče. Ko je bilo to objavljeno na televiziji, je vrednost njenih del skoraj povsem upadla. Fizično so bila dela enaka, a njihova zgodovina se je spremenila.
I've been focusing now on the visual arts, but I want to give two examples from music. This is Joshua Bell, a very famous violinist. And the Washington Post reporter Gene Weingarten decided to enlist him for an audacious experiment. The question is: How much would people like Joshua Bell, the music of Joshua Bell, if they didn't know they were listening to Joshua Bell? So he got Joshua Bell to take his million dollar violin down to a Washington D.C. subway station and stand in the corner and see how much money he would make. And here's a brief clip of this. (Violin music) After being there for three-quarters of an hour, he made 32 dollars. Not bad. It's also not good. Apparently to really enjoy the music of Joshua Bell, you have to know you're listening to Joshua Bell. He actually made 20 dollars more than that, but he didn't count it. Because this woman comes up -- you see at the end of the video -- she comes up. She had heard him at the Library of Congress a few weeks before at this extravagant black-tie affair. So she's stunned that he's standing in a subway station. So she's struck with pity. She reaches into her purse and hands him a 20.
Osredotočal sem se na vizualno umetnost, rad pa bi podal tudi dva primera iz glasbe. To je Joshua Bell, zelo slaven violinist. Novinar Washington Posta, Gene Weingarten, se ga je odločil vpoklicati v drzen eksperiment. Vprašanje: Kako bi bila Joshua Bell in njegova glasba ljudem všeč, če ne bi vedeli, da poslušajo njega? Tako je pripravil Joshuo Bella, da je svojo milijon dolarjev vredno violino prinesel na postajo podzemne železnice v Washingtonu, se postavil v kot in spremljal, koliko denarja bo zaslužil. Tukaj je krajši odlomek. (Violinska glasba) Po tem, ko je tam stal tri četrt ure, je zaslužil 32 dolarjev. Ni slabo. Prav tako pa tudi ni dobro. Očitno je za uživanje v glasbi Joshue Bell potrebno vedeti, da poslušate Joshuo Bell. Pravzaprav je zaslužil 20 dolarjev več, vendar tega ni upošteval. Pojavila se je namreč ženska - kar lahko vidite na koncu posnetka. Pred nekaj tedni ga je slišala v Kongresni knjižnici v ekstravagantni opravi s črno kravato. Bila je presenečena, da stoji na postaji podzemne železnice. Presunilo jo je usmiljenje. Segla je v torbico in mu dala dvajsetaka.
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The second example from music is from John Cage's modernist composition, "4'33"." As many of you know, this is the composition where the pianist sits at a bench, opens up the piano and sits and does nothing for four minutes and 33 seconds -- that period of silence. And people have different views on this. But what I want to point out is you can buy this from iTunes. (Laughter) For a dollar 99, you can listen to that silence, which is different than other forms of silence.
Drugi primer iz glasbe je modernistična kompozicija Johna Cagea, 4' 33''. Kot mnogi izmed vas veste, pri tej kompoziciji pianist sede na klop, odpre klavir in štiri minute in 33 sekund samo sedi - to je obdobje tišine. Ljudje imajo na to različne poglede. Vendar, kar hočem izpostaviti je, da lahko to kupite preko iTunes. (Smeh) Za $1.99 lahko poslušate to tišino, ki je drugačna od drugih vrst tišine.
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Now I've been talking so far about pleasure, but what I want to suggest is that everything I've said applies as well to pain. And how you think about what you're experiencing, your beliefs about the essence of it, affect how it hurts. One lovely experiment was done by Kurt Gray and Dan Wegner. What they did was they hooked up Harvard undergraduates to an electric shock machine. And they gave them a series of painful electric shocks. So it was a series of five painful shocks. Half of them are told that they're being given the shocks by somebody in another room, but the person in the other room doesn't know they're giving them shocks. There's no malevolence, they're just pressing a button. The first shock is recorded as very painful. The second shock feels less painful, because you get a bit used to it. The third drops, the fourth, the fifth. The pain gets less. In the other condition, they're told that the person in the next room is shocking them on purpose -- knows they're shocking them. The first shock hurts like hell. The second shock hurts just as much, and the third and the fourth and the fifth. It hurts more if you believe somebody is doing it to you on purpose.
Do zdaj sem govoril o užitku, vendar, kar tudi želim predlagati, je, da se vse povedano nanaša tudi na bolečino. To, kako razmišljaš o tem, kar doživljaš, tvoja prepričanja o samem bistvu tega, vpliva na intenziteto bolečine. Ljubek eksperiment sta napravila Kurt Gray in Dan Wegener. Harvardske študente sta priklopila na napravo za elektrošoke. Izpostavila sta jih bolečim električnim šokom. Bil je niz petih elektrošokov. Polovici udeležencev sta dejala, da je za šoke odgovoren nekdo iz sosednje sobe, vendar se ta oseba tega ne zaveda. Ni zlonamernosti, samo pritiska na gumbe. Prvi šok je bil zabeležen kot zelo boleč. Drugi je manj boleč, saj se že malo navadiš. Tretji boli še manj, četrti, peti. Bolečina pojenja. V drugem pogoju so udeležencem dejali, da nekdo sproža elektrošoke namerno - da ve, da to počne. Prvi elektrošok je bolel kot hudič. Drugi je bolel prav tako močno, in tretji in četrti in peti. Bolj boli, če verjameš, da ti nekdo to počne namerno.
The most extreme example of this is that in some cases, pain under the right circumstances can transform into pleasure. Humans have this extraordinarily interesting property that will often seek out low-level doses of pain in controlled circumstances and take pleasure from it -- as in the eating of hot chili peppers and roller coaster rides. The point was nicely summarized by the poet John Milton who wrote, "The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven."
Najskrajnejši primer tega je, da v nekaterih primerih, lahko bolečina v pravih okoliščinah preraste v užitek. Ljudje imamo to nenavadno zanimivo lastnost, da pogosto iščemo manjše odmerke bolečine v nadzorovanih okoliščinah in v njih uživamo - kot v uživanju pekočih čilijev, ali v vožnji z vlakci v zabaviščnih parkih. To lepo povzame pesnik John Milton, ki je zapisal: "Um je poseben kraj, in v sebi lahko ustvari nebesa iz pekla, pekel iz nebes."
And I'll end with that. Thank you.
In s tem bom tudi zaključil. Hvala.
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