Today, I'm going to take you around the world in 18 minutes. My base of operations is in the U.S., but let's start at the other end of the map, in Kyoto, Japan, where I was living with a Japanese family while I was doing part of my dissertational research 15 years ago. I knew even then that I would encounter cultural differences and misunderstandings, but they popped up when I least expected it.
Täna viin ma teid 18 minutiga ümber maailma. Ma tegutsen peamiselt USAs, kuid alustame kaardi teisest servast, Kyotost, Jaapanist, kus ma elasin ühes jaapani perekonnas, kui tegin seal väitekirja jaoks uurimistööd 15 aastat tagasi. Ma teadsin juba ette, et pean seisma silmitsi kultuuriliste erinevuste ja arusaamatustega, kuid need tekkisid siis, kui ma seda kõige vähem ootasin.
On my first day, I went to a restaurant, and I ordered a cup of green tea with sugar. After a pause, the waiter said, "One does not put sugar in green tea." "I know," I said. "I'm aware of this custom. But I really like my tea sweet." In response, he gave me an even more courteous version of the same explanation. "One does not put sugar in green tea." "I understand," I said, "that the Japanese do not put sugar in their green tea, but I'd like to put some sugar in my green tea." (Laughter) Surprised by my insistence, the waiter took up the issue with the manager. Pretty soon, a lengthy discussion ensued, and finally the manager came over to me and said, "I am very sorry. We do not have sugar." (Laughter) Well, since I couldn't have my tea the way I wanted it, I ordered a cup of coffee, which the waiter brought over promptly. Resting on the saucer were two packets of sugar.
Esimesel päeval läksin restorani ja tellisin tassi rohelist teed suhkruga. Kelner tegi väikese pausi ja ütles: "Rohelise tee sisse ei panda suhkrut." "Ma tean," vastasin. "Tunnen seda kommet. Kuid mulle tõesti meeldib magus tee." Vastuseks sain veelgi aupaklikuma variandi samast seletusest. "Rohelise tee sisse ei panda suhkrut." "Ma saan aru," ütlesin, "et jaapanlased ei pane rohelise tee sisse suhkrut. Kuid mina sooviksin panna suhkrut oma rohelise tee sisse." (Naer) Minu nõudlikkus üllatas kelnerit ja ta läks küsimust juhatajaga arutama. Varsti järgnes pikk arutelu, viimaks tuli juhataja minu juurde ja ütles: "Ma väga vabandan. Meil ei ole suhkrut." (Naer) Kuna ma ei saanud tellida teed nii, nagu soovisin, siis tellisin tassi kohvi, mille kelner ka viivitamata lauda tõi. Alustassile oli asetatud kaks pakikest suhkruga.
My failure to procure myself a cup of sweet, green tea was not due to a simple misunderstanding. This was due to a fundamental difference in our ideas about choice. From my American perspective, when a paying customer makes a reasonable request based on her preferences, she has every right to have that request met. The American way, to quote Burger King, is to "have it your way," because, as Starbucks says, "happiness is in your choices." (Laughter) But from the Japanese perspective, it's their duty to protect those who don't know any better -- (Laughter) in this case, the ignorant gaijin -- from making the wrong choice. Let's face it: the way I wanted my tea was inappropriate according to cultural standards, and they were doing their best to help me save face.
See, et mul ei õnnestunud hankida tassikest magusat rohelist teed, ei olnud mitte lihtne arusaamatus. Selle taga oli fundamentaalne erinevus meie arusaamade vahel valikute tegemisest. Minu, ameeriklase vaatenurgast, kui klient, kes maksab, esitab mõistliku soovi, sest tema maitse on niisugune, siis on tal igati õigus oodata, et soov täidetakse. Ameerika komme, kui tsiteerida Burger Kingi, on "võtta see nii, nagu sulle meeldib," sest, nagu ütleb Starbucks, "õnn on sinu valikutes." (Naer) Kuid jaapanlase vaatenurgast on nende kohus kaitsta neid, kes ei tea, mis on õige - (Naer) antud juhul siis rumalat välismaalast - tegemast vale otsust. Otsesõnu: see, kuidas ma oma teed soovisin, oli nende kultuuri reeglite järgi sobimatu ja nad andsid parima, et päästa mind piinlikust olukorrast.
Americans tend to believe that they've reached some sort of pinnacle in the way they practice choice. They think that choice, as seen through the American lens best fulfills an innate and universal desire for choice in all humans. Unfortunately, these beliefs are based on assumptions that don't always hold true in many countries, in many cultures. At times they don't even hold true at America's own borders. I'd like to discuss some of these assumptions and the problems associated with them. As I do so, I hope you'll start thinking about some of your own assumptions and how they were shaped by your backgrounds.
Ameeriklased kipuvad uskuma, et nad on jõudnud tippu selles, kuidas nad valikuid teevad. Nad usuvad, et see, kuidas ameeriklased valikuid näevad, täidab parimal moel kõigi inimeste kaasasündinud, universaalset janu valikute järele. Kahjuks rajaneb see usk oletustel, mis ei pea sugugi paika paljudes riikides, paljudes kultuurides. Vahetevahel ei pea need paika isegi Ameerika piires. Tahaksin arutleda mõnede üle neist oletustest ja nendega seonduvate probleemide üle. Ma loodan, et selle käigus hakkate te mõtlema ka mõnede enda oletuste üle ja selle üle, kuidas teie taust neid mõjutanud on.
First assumption: if a choice affects you, then you should be the one to make it. This is the only way to ensure that your preferences and interests will be most fully accounted for. It is essential for success. In America, the primary locus of choice is the individual. People must choose for themselves, sometimes sticking to their guns, regardless of what other people want or recommend. It's called "being true to yourself." But do all individuals benefit from taking such an approach to choice? Mark Lepper and I did a series of studies in which we sought the answer to this very question. In one study, which we ran in Japantown, San Francisco, we brought seven- to nine-year-old Anglo- and Asian-American children into the laboratory, and we divided them up into three groups.
Esimene oletus: kui mingi valik teid mõjutab, siis peaksite teie olema see, kes valiku langetab. See on ainus viis kindlustada, et teie eelistusi ja huve on täielikult arvesse võetud. See on eduks hädavajalik. Ameerikas on valikute keskmes üksikisik. Inimesed peavad ise enda eest valima, vahel ka kangekaelselt, hoolimata sellest, mida teised tahavad või soovitavad. Seda nimetatakse "endale truuks jäämiseks". Kuid kas selline suhtumine valikute tegemisse on ikka kõigile inimestele kasulik? Tegime koos Mark Lipperiga rea uuringuid, kus otsisime vastust just sellele küsimusele. Ühes uuringus, mille viisime läbi San Fransisco jaapani linnaosas, tõime laborisse angloameerika ja aasia-ameerika päritolu seitsme- kuni üheksa-aastased lapsed ning jagasime nad kolme gruppi.
The first group came in, and they were greeted by Miss Smith, who showed them six big piles of anagram puzzles. The kids got to choose which pile of anagrams they would like to do, and they even got to choose which marker they would write their answers with. When the second group of children came in, they were brought to the same room, shown the same anagrams, but this time Miss Smith told them which anagrams to do and which markers to write their answers with. Now when the third group came in, they were told that their anagrams and their markers had been chosen by their mothers. (Laughter) In reality, the kids who were told what to do, whether by Miss Smith or their mothers, were actually given the very same activity, which their counterparts in the first group had freely chosen.
Esimene grupp tuli sisse ja neid võttis vastu preili Smith, kes näitas neile kuut suurt kuhja anagrammi-mõistatusi. Lapsed said ise valida, millist anagrammide kuhja nad lahendada tahavad. Ja nad said ka valida, millise viltpliiatsiga nad oma vastuseid soovivad kirja panna. Kui tuli sisse teine grupp lapsi, siis juhatati nad samasse ruumi ja näidati samu anagramme, kuid seekord ütles preili Smith neile, milliseid anagramme neil tuleb lahendada ja millise viltpliiatsiga vastused üles kirjutada. Ja kui tuli sisse kolmas grupp, siis neile öeldi, et nende anagrammid ja viltpliiatsid on välja valitud nende emade poolt. (Naer) Neile lastele, kellele anti ülesanded kätte käsukorras, kas preili Smithi või nende emade poolt, anti täpselt needsamad ülesanded, mille nende kaaslased esimesest grupist olid ise vabalt valinud.
With this procedure, we were able to ensure that the kids across the three groups all did the same activity, making it easier for us to compare performance. Such small differences in the way we administered the activity yielded striking differences in how well they performed. Anglo-Americans, they did two and a half times more anagrams when they got to choose them, as compared to when it was chosen for them by Miss Smith or their mothers. It didn't matter who did the choosing, if the task was dictated by another, their performance suffered. In fact, some of the kids were visibly embarrassed when they were told that their mothers had been consulted. (Laughter) One girl named Mary said, "You asked my mother?"
Sel viisil saime garanteerida, et lapsed kõigis kolmes grupis sooritasid kõik samu ülesandeid, mis tegi nende saavutuste võrdlemise lihtsamaks. Niivõrd väike vahe selles, kuidas ülesanne kätte anti, tekitas hämmastava vahe selles, kui hästi lapsed hakkama said. Angloameerika lapsed lahendasid kaks ja pool korda rohkem anagramme, kui nad olid saanud ise ülesande valida, võrreldes sellega, kui ülesande oli valinud preili Smith või nende emad. Polnud vahet, kes nende eest valiku tegi, aga kui ülesande kirjutas ette keegi teine, siis nende tulemused kannatasid. Mõnedel lastel oli koguni silmnähtavalt piinlik, kui neile öeldi, et nende emadelt oli nõu küsitud. (Naer) Üks Mary-nimeline tüdruk ütles: "Te küsisite minu emalt?"
(Laughter)
(Naer)
In contrast, Asian-American children performed best when they believed their mothers had made the choice, second best when they chose for themselves, and least well when it had been chosen by Miss Smith. A girl named Natsumi even approached Miss Smith as she was leaving the room and tugged on her skirt and asked, "Could you please tell my mommy I did it just like she said?" The first-generation children were strongly influenced by their immigrant parents' approach to choice. For them, choice was not just a way of defining and asserting their individuality, but a way to create community and harmony by deferring to the choices of people whom they trusted and respected. If they had a concept of being true to one's self, then that self, most likely, [was] composed, not of an individual, but of a collective. Success was just as much about pleasing key figures as it was about satisfying one's own preferences. Or, you could say that the individual's preferences were shaped by the preferences of specific others.
Vastukaaluks said aasia-ameerika päritolu lapsed parimaid tulemusi siis, kui nad uskusid, et nende emad on nende eest valiku teinud, teiseks parema tulemuse siis, kui said ise valida ja kõige halvema, kui valiku oli teinud preili Smith. Üks tüdruk nimega Natsumi läks koguni ruumist väljudes preili Smithi juurde, sikutas teda seelikust ja küsis: "Kas te palun ütleksite emmele, et ma tegin just nii, nagu ta ütles?" Esimese põlvkonna lapsi mõjutas tugevalt nende immigrantidest vanemate suhtumine valikute tegemisse. Valik ei olnud nende jaoks viis määratleda ja maksma panna oma individuaalsust, vaid vahend kogukonna ja harmoonia loomiseks, andes järele nende inimeste valikutele, keda nad usaldavad ja austavad. Kui neid saadab arusaam enda truuks jäämisest, siis see "mina" ei koosne ilmselt mitte üksikisikust vaid kollektiivist. Edu tähendab nende jaoks sama palju võtmeisikutele meele järele olemist kui oma eelistuste rahuldamist. Võib ka öelda, et üksikisiku eelistusi on vorminud teatud teiste isikute eelistused.
The assumption then that we do best when the individual self chooses only holds when that self is clearly divided from others. When, in contrast, two or more individuals see their choices and their outcomes as intimately connected, then they may amplify one another's success by turning choosing into a collective act. To insist that they choose independently might actually compromise both their performance and their relationships. Yet that is exactly what the American paradigm demands. It leaves little room for interdependence or an acknowledgment of individual fallibility. It requires that everyone treat choice as a private and self-defining act. People that have grown up in such a paradigm might find it motivating, but it is a mistake to assume that everyone thrives under the pressure of choosing alone.
Oletus, et me anname oma parima, kui valiku teeb üksikisiku mina, peab paika vaid siis, kui see mina on teistest selgelt eraldatud. Vastukaaluks, kui kaks või enam üksikisikut näevad oma valikuid ja nende tulemusi väga lähedalt seotuna, siis võivad nad teineteise edu võimendada, muutes valikute langetamise kollektiivseks tegevuseks. Nõuda, et nad teeksid iseseisvaid valikuid, võiks koguni ohustada nende mõlema sooritusi ja suhteid. Ja ometi täpselt seda ameerika paradigma nõuabki. See jätab vähe ruumi vastastikule sõltumisele või üksikisiku ekslikkuse tunnistamisele. See nõuab, et igaüks suhtuks valikute langetamisse kui eraviisilisse ja ennast määratlevasse tegevusse. Inimesed, kes on üles kasvanud säärases raamistkus, võivad pidada seda motiveerivaks. Kui on viga eeldada, et igaüks saavutab edu üksinda valimise surve all.
The second assumption which informs the American view of choice goes something like this. The more choices you have, the more likely you are to make the best choice. So bring it on, Walmart, with 100,000 different products, and Amazon, with 27 million books and Match.com with -- what is it? -- 15 million date possibilities now. You will surely find the perfect match. Let's test this assumption by heading over to Eastern Europe. Here, I interviewed people who were residents of formerly communist countries, who had all faced the challenge of transitioning to a more democratic and capitalistic society. One of the most interesting revelations came not from an answer to a question, but from a simple gesture of hospitality. When the participants arrived for their interview, I offered them a set of drinks: Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite -- seven, to be exact.
Teine oletus, mis toidab ameeriklaste nägemust valikute langetamisest, kõlab umbes nii. Mida rohkem valikuvariante sul on, seda tõenäolisem, et sa teed parima valiku. Nii et elagu Wal-Mart oma 100 000 erineva tootega, Amazon oma 27 miljoni raamatuga ja Match.com oma - mis seal ongi? - nüüd juba 15 miljoni võimaliku kohtinguga. Leiate kindlasti täiusliku kaaslase. Kontrollime seda oletust, liikudes edasi Ida-Euroopasse. Siin küsitlesin ma inimesi, kes elavad endistes kommunistlikes maades ja kes on kõik läbi elanud katsumuse minna üle demokraatlikumasse ja kapitalistlikumasse ühiskonda. Üks huvitavamaid avastusi ei tulnud mitte vastusena küsimusele, vaid lihtsa külalislahkuse kujul. Kui osavõtjad saabusid intervjuud andma, pakkusin ma neile valiku jooke, Coca-Cola, dieet-Coca-Cola, Sprite - kokku seitse varianti, kui täpne olla.
During the very first session, which was run in Russia, one of the participants made a comment that really caught me off guard. "Oh, but it doesn't matter. It's all just soda. That's just one choice." (Murmuring) I was so struck by this comment that from then on, I started to offer all the participants those seven sodas, and I asked them, "How many choices are these?" Again and again, they perceived these seven different sodas, not as seven choices, but as one choice: soda or no soda. When I put out juice and water in addition to these seven sodas, now they perceived it as only three choices -- juice, water and soda. Compare this to the die-hard devotion of many Americans, not just to a particular flavor of soda, but to a particular brand. You know, research shows repeatedly that we can't actually tell the difference between Coke and Pepsi. Of course, you and I know that Coke is the better choice.
Esimesel kohtumisel, mis toimus Venemaal, ütles üks osaleja välja kommentaari, mida ma sugugi ei oodanud. "Oh, aga vahet ju pole. See kõik on ju limonaad. See on ainult üks valik." (Pomin) Mind rabas see kommentaar niivõrd, et edaspidi hakkasin kõigile osalejatele pakkuma neid seitset limonaadi. Ja küsisin neilt: "Mitu valikut siin on?" Ning ikka ja jälle nägid inimesed neid seitset erinevat limonaadi mitte kui seitset valikuvarianti, vaid kui üht: juua limonaadi või mitte. Kui ma serveerisin ka mahla ja vett, lisaks seitsmele limonaadile, siis nähti seda kui kolme varianti - mahl, vesi ja limonaad. Võrrelge seda paljude ameeriklaste veendunud pühendumusega mitte vaid ühte sorti limonaadile, vaid koguni kindlale kaubamärgile. Kas teate, et uuringud on korduvalt näidanud, et me ei suuda tegelikult teha vahet Coca-Colal ja Pepsil. Mina ja teie teame muidugi, et Coca-Cola on parem valik.
(Laughter)
(Naer)
For modern Americans who are exposed to more options and more ads associated with options than anyone else in the world, choice is just as much about who they are as it is about what the product is. Combine this with the assumption that more choices are always better, and you have a group of people for whom every little difference matters and so every choice matters. But for Eastern Europeans, the sudden availability of all these consumer products on the marketplace was a deluge. They were flooded with choice before they could protest that they didn't know how to swim. When asked, "What words and images do you associate with choice?" Grzegorz from Warsaw said, "Ah, for me it is fear. There are some dilemmas you see. I am used to no choice." Bohdan from Kiev said, in response to how he felt about the new consumer marketplace, "It is too much. We do not need everything that is there." A sociologist from the Warsaw Survey Agency explained, "The older generation jumped from nothing to choice all around them. They were never given a chance to learn how to react." And Tomasz, a young Polish man said, "I don't need twenty kinds of chewing gum. I don't mean to say that I want no choice, but many of these choices are quite artificial."
Kaasaegsete ameeriklaste jaoks, kelle ees on suurem valik võimalusi ja võimalustega seotud reklaame kui kellelgi teisel maailmas, seostub valik samavõrd sellega, kes nad on, kui sellega, milline on toode. Lisage siia juurde oletus, et mida enam võimalusi, seda parem, ja teie ees on rühm inimesi, kellele loeb iga väikegi erinevus ja seega loeb ka iga valik. Kuid ida-eurooplaste jaoks oli see äkiline tarbijale suunatud toodete valiku rohkus turul kui veeuputus. Nad uputati valikuvõimalustega üle, enne kui nad jõudsid protesteerida, et nad ei oska ujuda. Kui temalt küsiti: "Millised sõnu ja pilte sa valiku tegemisega seostad?" vastas Gregors Varssavist niimoodi: "Minu jaoks on see hirm. Siin on dilemmad, saate aru? Ma olen harjunud, et valikut pole." Bogdan Kiievist ütles vastuseks küsimusele, et mida ta arvab uuest tarbijaturust: "Seda on liiga palju. Meil pole vaja kõike, mida seal pakutakse." Üks sotsioloog Varssavi uuringute agentuurist selgitas: "Vanem generatsioon tegi hüppe eimillegi juurest selle juurde, et kõikjal on valikud." "Neile ei antud võimalust õppida reageerima." Poola noormees Tomasz ütles: "Ma ei vaja kahtekümmet erinevat tüüpi nätsu. Ma ei taha öelda, nagu ma ei sooviks võimalust valida, kuid paljud neist valikutest on üsna kunstlikud."
In reality, many choices are between things that are not that much different. The value of choice depends on our ability to perceive differences between the options. Americans train their whole lives to play "spot the difference." They practice this from such an early age that they've come to believe that everyone must be born with this ability. In fact, though all humans share a basic need and desire for choice, we don't all see choice in the same places or to the same extent. When someone can't see how one choice is unlike another, or when there are too many choices to compare and contrast, the process of choosing can be confusing and frustrating. Instead of making better choices, we become overwhelmed by choice, sometimes even afraid of it. Choice no longer offers opportunities, but imposes constraints. It's not a marker of liberation, but of suffocation by meaningless minutiae. In other words, choice can develop into the very opposite of everything it represents in America when it is thrust upon those who are insufficiently prepared for it. But it is not only other people in other places that are feeling the pressure of ever-increasing choice. Americans themselves are discovering that unlimited choice seems more attractive in theory than in practice.
Tegelikult on mitmed valikud vaid asjade vahel, mis üksteisest väga ei erinegi. Valiku väärtus seisneb meie võimes tajuda erinevusi valikuvariantide vahel. Ameeriklased harjutavad eluaeg mängima mängu "märka erinevust". Nad mängivad seda nii maast-madalast, et usuvad, et kõigil teistelgi on see võime kaasa sündinud. Tegelikult, kuigi kõigil inimestel on algne vajadus ja soov valikuid teha, ei näe me kõik vajadust valida samades kohtades või samal määral. Kui inimene ei näe, mille poolest üks variant erineb teisest või kui variante on liiga palju, et neid kõrvutada ja võrrelda, siis võib valiku tegemise protsess teda segadusse ajada ja tuska valmistada. Selle asemel, et teha paremaid valikuid, oleme valikute tulvast tummaks löödud ja vahel koguni kardame neid. Valik ei paku enam võimalusi, vaid surub peale piiranguid. See pole mitte märk vabadusest, vaid lämmatamisest läbi mõttetute pisiasjade. Teisisõnu, valik võib kujuneda selle kõige vastandiks, mida ta esindab Ameerikas, kui seda suruda peale inimestele, kes pole selleks piisavalt ette valmistatud. Kuid inimesed teistes maades ei ole ainsad, kes tunnevad kasvavat survet seoses valikuvõimaluste pideva suurenemisega. Ameeriklased ise on hakanud avastama, et piiramatu valikuvõimalus näib teoorias palju ahvatlevam, kui see praktikas on.
We all have physical, mental and emotional (Laughter) limitations that make it impossible for us to process every single choice we encounter, even in the grocery store, let alone over the course of our entire lives. A number of my studies have shown that when you give people 10 or more options when they're making a choice, they make poorer decisions, whether it be health care, investment, other critical areas. Yet still, many of us believe that we should make all our own choices and seek out even more of them.
Meil kõigil on füüsilised, vaimsed ja emotsionaalsed piirid, mis muudavad võimatuks iga viimast kui ettejuhtuvat valikut läbi mõelda, olgu see kasvõi toidupoes, rääkimata valikuist kogu meie elu jooksul. Mitmed minu uuringud on näidanud, et kui anda inimestele valiku tegemisel rohkem kui 10 varianti, siis langetavad nad halvemaid otsuseid, olgu siis tegemist tervishoiu, investeeringute või mõne muu olulise asjaga. Ometi usuvad paljud meist, et peame kõik oma otsused ise tegema ja leidma rohkem võimalusi ise otsustada.
This brings me to the third, and perhaps most problematic, assumption: "You must never say no to choice." To examine this, let's go back to the U.S. and then hop across the pond to France. Right outside Chicago, a young couple, Susan and Daniel Mitchell, were about to have their first baby. They'd already picked out a name for her, Barbara, after her grandmother. One night, when Susan was seven months pregnant, she started to experience contractions and was rushed to the emergency room. The baby was delivered through a C-section, but Barbara suffered cerebral anoxia, a loss of oxygen to the brain. Unable to breathe on her own, she was put on a ventilator. Two days later, the doctors gave the Mitchells a choice: They could either remove Barbara off the life support, in which case she would die within a matter of hours, or they could keep her on life support, in which case she might still die within a matter of days. If she survived, she would remain in a permanent vegetative state, never able to walk, talk or interact with others. What do they do? What do any parent do?
Siit jõuan ma kolmanda ja võib-olla kõige problemaatilisema oletuseni: "Mitte kunagi ei tohi keelduda võimalusest valida." Selle vaatlemiseks pöördugem tagasi USA-sse ja seejärel hüppame üle lombi Prantsusmaale. Chicago lähistel ootas üks noorpaar, Susan ja Daniel Mitchell, oma esimese lapse sündi. Nad olid juba valinud tütrele nime, Barbara, lapse vanaema järgi. Ühel ööl, Susani seitsmendal raseduskuul, tabasid teda tuhud ja ta viidi kiirabiga haiglasse. Laps tuli keisrilõike abil ilmale, kuid Barbara kannatas ajuanoksia all, kus aju ei saa piisavalt hapnikku. Kuna ta ise hingata ei suutnud, pandi beebi hingamisaparaadi alla. Kaks päeva hiljem andsid arstid Mitchellidele valiku. Nad võisid kas lülitada Barbarat elus hoidva aparaadi välja, mispuhul ta sureks mõne tunni jooksul, või hoida teda aparaadi all, mispuhul ta ilmselt sureks ikkagi mõne päeva jooksul. Kui ta siiski elus püsiks, siis jääks ta terveks eluks vegetatiivsesse seisundisse, ega suudaks eales kõndida, rääkida või teistega suhelda. Mida nad siis tegid? Mida teeb iga lapsevanem?
In a study I conducted with Simona Botti and Kristina Orfali, American and French parents were interviewed. They had all suffered the same tragedy. In all cases, the life support was removed, and the infants had died. But there was a big difference. In France, the doctors decided whether and when the life support would be removed, while in the United States, the final decision rested with the parents. We wondered: does this have an effect on how the parents cope with the loss of their loved one? We found that it did. Even up to a year later, American parents were more likely to express negative emotions, as compared to their French counterparts. French parents were more likely to say things like, "Noah was here for so little time, but he taught us so much. He gave us a new perspective on life."
Uuringus, mille ma viisin läbi koos Simona Botti ja Kristina Orfaliga, küsitleti ameerika ja prantsuse lapsevanemaid. Nad kõik olid üle elanud samasuguse tragöödia. Kõigi juhtumite puhul oli aparatuur välja lülitatud ja laps oli surnud. Kuid seal oli suur vahe. Prantsumaal otsustas arst, kas ja millal last elus hoidev aparatuur välja lülitada, samas kui Ühendriikides tegid viimase valiku vanemad. Me juurdlesime: kas sel on mingi mõju sellele, kuidas vanemad armastatud lapse surmast üle saavad? Avastasime, et on küll. Veel koguni aasta hiljem oli ameerika lapsevanematel suurem tõenäosus kogeda negatiivseid emotsioone, võrreldes nende prantsuse saatusekaaslastega. Prantsuse vanemad ütlesid pigem selliseid asju nagu: "Noah oli siin nii lühikest aega, kuid ta õpetas meile väga palju. Ta pani meid elule teistmoodi vaatama."
American parents were more likely to say things like, "What if? What if?" Another parent complained, "I feel as if they purposefully tortured me. How did they get me to do that?" And another parent said, "I feel as if I've played a role in an execution." But when the American parents were asked if they would rather have had the doctors make the decision, they all said, "No." They could not imagine turning that choice over to another, even though having made that choice made them feel trapped, guilty, angry. In a number of cases they were even clinically depressed. These parents could not contemplate giving up the choice, because to do so would have gone contrary to everything they had been taught and everything they had come to believe about the power and purpose of choice.
Ameerika vanematel oli pigem tavaks öelda asju nagu: "Aga mis siis kui? Aga mis siis kui?" Üks teine lapsevanem kurtis: "Ma tunnen, et nad piinasid mind meelega. Kuidas nad veensid mind seda tegema?" Üks teine lapsevanem ütles: "Ma tunnen, nagu oleksin olnud osaline hukkamisel." Aga kui ameerika vanematelt küsiti, kas nad oleksid parema meelega lasknud arstidel otsustada, vastasid nad kõik eitavalt. Nad ei suutnud ette kujutada, et jätaksid selle valiku kellegi teise teha, kuigi otsuselangetamine, tekitas neis lõksujäämise tunde, nad tundsid süüd ja viha. Mitmel juhul tabas neid koguni kliiniline depressioon. Need vanemad ei suutnud mõeldagi sellest, et loovutada otsustamine teistele, sest niisugune otsus oleks käinud kõige vastu, mida neile õpetatud on ja mida nad usuvad valikute langetamise võimu ja eesmärkide kohta.
In her essay, "The White Album," Joan Didion writes, "We tell ourselves stories in order to live. We interpret what we see, select the most workable of the multiple choices. We live entirely by the imposition of a narrative line upon disparate images, by the idea with which we have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria, which is our actual experience." The story Americans tell, the story upon which the American dream depends, is the story of limitless choice. This narrative promises so much: freedom, happiness, success. It lays the world at your feet and says, "You can have anything, everything." It's a great story, and it's understandable why they would be reluctant to revise it. But when you take a close look, you start to see the holes, and you start to see that the story can be told in many other ways.
Oma essees "Valge album" kirjutab Joan Didion: "Me räägime endale lugusid selleks, et elada. Me tõlgendame seda, mida näeme, valime paljude hulgast selle, mis kõige paremini toimib. Me elame täiesti kokkusobimatutele piltidele peale surutud narratiivse joone järgi, mis põhineb arusaamadel, mille järgi me oleme õppinud fikseerima seda muutuvat fantasmagooriat, mis on meie tegelikud kogemused." Lugu, mida ameeriklased räägivad, lugu, millel rajaneb Ameerika unelm, on lugu piiramatutest valikutest. See narratiiv lubab niivõrd palju: vabadust, õnne, edu. See asetab maailma su jalge ette ja ütleb: "Sa võid saada mida iganes, saada kõik." See on suurepärane lugu ja on arusaadav, miks nad ei taha seda redigeerida. Aga kui vaadata lähemalt, siis hakkate märkama auke ning hakkate tähele panema, et lugu saab ka mitmel teisel moel rääkida.
Americans have so often tried to disseminate their ideas of choice, believing that they will be, or ought to be, welcomed with open hearts and minds. But the history books and the daily news tell us it doesn't always work out that way. The phantasmagoria, the actual experience that we try to understand and organize through narrative, varies from place to place. No single narrative serves the needs of everyone everywhere. Moreover, Americans themselves could benefit from incorporating new perspectives into their own narrative, which has been driving their choices for so long.
Ameeriklased on väga tihti püüdnud levitada oma arusaama valikutest, uskudes, et neid võetaks, või peaks võetama vastu avatud südame ja meelega. Kuid ajalooraamatud ja päevauudised ütlevad, et alati see nii ei lähe. See fantasmagooria, tegelik kogemus, millest me püüame aru saada ja mida läbi narratiivi kuidagi korrastada, on erinevates paikades erinev. Mitte ükski narratiiv ei teeni kõigi inimeste huve igal pool. Veelgi enam, ameeriklased ise võiksid kasu lõigata uute vaatenurkade toomisest oma narratiivi, mis on nende valikute tegemist nii kaua juhtinud.
Robert Frost once said that, "It is poetry that is lost in translation." This suggests that whatever is beautiful and moving, whatever gives us a new way to see, cannot be communicated to those who speak a different language. But Joseph Brodsky said that, "It is poetry that is gained in translation," suggesting that translation can be a creative, transformative act. When it comes to choice, we have far more to gain than to lose by engaging in the many translations of the narratives. Instead of replacing one story with another, we can learn from and revel in the many versions that exist and the many that have yet to be written. No matter where we're from and what your narrative is, we all have a responsibility to open ourselves up to a wider array of what choice can do, and what it can represent. And this does not lead to a paralyzing moral relativism. Rather, it teaches us when and how to act. It brings us that much closer to realizing the full potential of choice, to inspiring the hope and achieving the freedom that choice promises but doesn't always deliver. If we learn to speak to one another, albeit through translation, then we can begin to see choice in all its strangeness, complexity and compelling beauty.
Robert Frost ütles kunagi: "See on poeesia, mis on tõlkes kaduma läinud." Mõte viitab sellele, et mis on kaunis ja liikuv, mis iganes annab meile uue pilgu, seda ei saa edasi anda neile, kes räägivad teist keelt. Kuid Joseph Brodsky ütles: "See on poeesia, mis on tõlkes juurde võidetud," viidates sellele, et tõlge võib olla loominguline ja muundav toiming. Mis puudutab valikute tegemist, siis meil on rohkem võita kui kaotada, kui võtame kuulda narratiivide erinevaid tõlkeid. Selle asemel, et asendada üks lugu teisega, saame õppida ja nautida mitut olemasolevat versiooni ning paljusid, mida pole veel kirja pandud. Kust iganes me pärit oleme või milline iganes on sinu narratiiv, meil kõigil on kohustus avada end laiemale skaalale sellest, mida valik võib teha ja mida see võib esindada. Ja see ei vii mitte halvava moraalse relatiivsuseni. Pigem õpetab see meile, millal ja kuidas tegutseda. See viib meid niivõrd palju lähemale valimise täieliku potentsiaali mõistmiseni, selle lootuse tekitamiseni ja vabaduse saavutamiseni, mida valikuvõimalus lubab, kuid alati ei paku. Kui me õpime teineteisega rääkima, olgugi läbi tõlke, siis me hakkame nägema valikut kogu tema kummalisuses, keerulisuses ja rabavas ilus.
Thank you.
Tänan teid.
(Applause)
(Aplaus)
Bruno Giussani: Thank you. Sheena, there is a detail about your biography that we have not written in the program book. But by now it's evident to everyone in this room. You're blind. And I guess one of the questions on everybody's mind is: How does that influence your study of choosing because that's an activity that for most people is associated with visual inputs like aesthetics and color and so on?
Bruno Giussiani: Tänan teid. Sheena, sinu eluloos on üks detail, mida me kavalehele ei kirjutanud. Kuid nüüdseks on see kõigile ruumis viibijatele selge. Sa oled pime. Ja ma arvan, et kõigil mõlgub meeles üks küsimus: kuidas mõjutab see sinu uurimustööd valikutest, kuna see on tegevus, mida enamik inimesi seostab visuaalsete signaalidega nagu välimus ja värv ja nii edasi?
Sheena Iyengar: Well, it's funny that you should ask that because one of the things that's interesting about being blind is you actually get a different vantage point when you observe the way sighted people make choices. And as you just mentioned, there's lots of choices out there that are very visual these days. Yeah, I -- as you would expect -- get pretty frustrated by choices like what nail polish to put on because I have to rely on what other people suggest. And I can't decide. And so one time I was in a beauty salon, and I was trying to decide between two very light shades of pink. And one was called "Ballet Slippers." And the other one was called "Adorable." (Laughter) And so I asked these two ladies, and the one lady told me, "Well, you should definitely wear 'Ballet Slippers.'" "Well, what does it look like?" "Well, it's a very elegant shade of pink." "Okay, great." The other lady tells me to wear "Adorable." "What does it look like?" "It's a glamorous shade of pink." And so I asked them, "Well, how do I tell them apart? What's different about them?" And they said, "Well, one is elegant, the other one's glamorous." Okay, we got that. And the only thing they had consensus on: well, if I could see them, I would clearly be able to tell them apart.
Sheena Iyengar: naljakas, et sa seda küsid, sest üks asi, mis pimeda inimese puhul huvitav on - nimelt on sul hoopis teine positsioon, jälgides seda, kuidas nägijad oma valikuid teevad. Nagu sa just mainisid, maailmas on palju valikuid, mis on visuaalsed. Nagu te võite arvata, teevad valikud mulle vahel tuska - nagu näiteks millist küünelakki valida - sest ma pean toetuma sellele, mida teised soovitavad. Ja ma ei saa ise otsustada. Ükskord olin ma ilusalongis ja püüdsin otsustada kahe väga heleda roosa rooni vahel. Ühe nimetus oli "Balletikingad." Ja teise nimetus oli "Hurmav". (Naer) Niisiis küsisin nende kahe daami käest. Üks daam vastas mulle: "Te peaksite kindlasti võtma "Balletikingad"." "Aga milline see välja näeb?" "Noh, sellel on väga elegantne roosa varjund." "Olgu, väga hea." Teine daam soovitas mul valida "Hurmava." "Milline see välja näeb?" "Sellel on glamuurne roosa varjund." Ma küsisin neilt: "Aga kuidas ma neil vahet teen?" "Mille poolest nad erinevad?" Nad ütlesid: "Üks on elegantne, teine on glamuurne." Olgu, sellest me saime aru. Ja ainus, milles nad üksmeelele jõudsid, oli see, et kui ma neid näha suudaksin, siis suudaksin neil ka selgelt vahet teha.
(Laughter)
(Naer)
And what I wondered was whether they were being affected by the name or the content of the color, so I decided to do a little experiment. So I brought these two bottles of nail polish into the laboratory, and I stripped the labels off. And I brought women into the laboratory, and I asked them, "Which one would you pick?" 50 percent of the women accused me of playing a trick, of putting the same color nail polish in both those bottles. (Laughter) (Applause) At which point you start to wonder who the trick's really played on. Now, of the women that could tell them apart, when the labels were off, they picked "Adorable," and when the labels were on, they picked "Ballet Slippers." So as far as I can tell, a rose by any other name probably does look different and maybe even smells different.
Ma mõtlesin, kas nende valikuid mõjutas pigem toote nimi või selle värv. Niisiis otsustasin teha väikese eksperimendi. Tõin need kaks pudelit küünelakki laborisse ja koorisin neilt sildid maha. Kutsusin laborisse naised ja küsisin neilt: "Millise valiksite teie?" 50 protsenti naistest süüdistasid mind pettuses, et olen mõlemasse pudelisse pannud sama värvi laki. (Naer) (Aplaus) Sel hetkel hakkad kahtlema, et keda siin õieti petetud on. Naised, kes kahe laki vahel vahet märkasid, valisid "Hurmava", kui sildid olid ära võetud, ja kui sildid olid küljes, siis valisid nad "Balletikingad." Niipalju, kui mina asjast aru saan, siis roos paistab teist nime kandes teistsugune ja võib-olla koguni lõhnab teisiti.
BG: Thank you. Sheena Iyengar. Thank you Sheena.
BG: Tänan teid. Sheena Iyengar. Tänan sind, Sheena.
(Applause)
(Aplaus)