The Fundamental Attribution Error

Social psychologists have identified a persistent human tendency to misinterpret everyday events. The tendency is to ascribe human behavior to internal dispositions of the individual rather than to other causes. A student avoids people because she is shy by nature; a man loses his temper because his is an angry person. This is the fundamental attribution error: The causes of behavior are deemed to be intrinsic to the person. I see three corollaries to the error: (a) the explanation is not in the situation, (b) the explanation is not in active choices that the person makes, and (c) the explanation is not in the supernatural realm. Most social psychologists worry about (a) because it minimizes the effects of contextual circumstances. For me, though, (b) and (c) are also worrisome. Suppose a person consistently acts with kindness and integrity. Is the explanation simply because it's in his nature (a)? Or could it be that he has--by force of vision, will, and self-discipline--become a person of integrity. Or, could his sterling character be the result of a spiritual transformation whose origin has nothing to do with the material world, but whose cause is supernatural? As amateur social psychologists, we should worry about the fundamental attribution error--not only because it implies (a), but also (b) and (c).

Breaking The Flow, Gently

Most of us want to cooperate with others, to go with the flow of events--even expectations. For all our American valuation of individuality and independent thinking, of Emersonian self-reliance, what nurtures a functional community (a family, a team, a work group) is reciprocating with other people. We show our commitment by going along, and more than that by contributing. The thing is not to be passive, but to participate actively and constructively with others we respect or love. So what happens at a birthday party when we light candles, sing a song, and slice cake? Can we refuse a piece if we want to sidestep the calories--and if so is there a chance that the refusal will cause a tiny offense? It is possible. The question is not about cake, but about the many ways in which a person might, for good reasons, dislodge from the flow of expectations. To pursue our most ambitious and difficult goals we may need occasionally to navigate cross-current, even countercurrent. If we must disrupt things, can we do so with gentleness and respect? I think so. Learning how may be one facet of wisdom.

Wisdom Yes, Rationality No

We often commit to plans not knowing their full ramifications. Marriage is like that; so is raising children. Many other worthwhile projects, too, require an irrational willingness to go for it without knowing what "it" entails. Any worthwhile endeavor, especially one that stretches over years, is marked by gains and losses, smooth sailing and storms, confidence and doubt. Maybe it has to be that way. When the finish line is crossed or a mid-course milestone is reached, the achievement is all the more real for the texture of narrative that marked the way. Human projects are stories--perhaps epic, perhaps ordinary--not protocol pages from a technical manual. The story of a life is potentially a beautiful drama, a composition unparalleled. To insist that it be rational would quench its sparkle trail. This is not to say we should be foolish, because foolishness often ends in disaster. But an occasional dose of irrationality is acceptable, and maybe necessary.

A Good Day, Says Talking Teddy

Lately we have been blessed with a series of really wonderful gifts, achievements, experiences, and surprises. Sometimes lightning strikes in rapid succession. But this can't continue, and so yesterday we contented ourselves with a merely good Monday. When four of us—Amy, Hilly, Stephanie, and I—sat down to dinner, we did "Talking Teddy." Years ago, when all the kids were at home, we used to pass around the head of a teddy bear honey jar. Whoever held the head could say something about their day; it was a token that gave its holder the floor to speak without interruption about something important to them. Though we lost the head of the honey jar a long time ago, we still do an abstract version of Talking Teddy once in a while. Yesterday, the Talking Teddy reports came in not as extraordinary, but as rather everyday activities and events. These included a few normal frustrations, but all considered the day's events were positive and pleasant. It was a good day, Talking Teddy was happy to report.

Champagne Flutes All 'Round

Compounding the shower of goodies this weekend, I heard from Oxford University Press last Friday that my book proposal was accepted and that a contract is being prepared. It's been an entire year since I met the editor at a conference in Philadelphia. There's a lesson here about the importance of waiting, about giving things time to incubate. Jenah took nine months plus a little to reach her full 10 pounds 13 ounces of baby glory. Our attendance at the Taylor/King concert took advance planning; we purchased the tickets for the Friday night event last fall. Good things may appear suddenly, but often they are delivered after much working and waiting, and sometimes uncertainty. So many good things: baby, book, baccalaureate, and much more. Last night in celebration we opened a bottle of Dom Perignon champagne, 2000 vintage. We poured its exquisite contents into champagne flutes and shared among Hilly, Amy, Bob, Kiely, Stephanie, and me. We had waited. Now we celebrated.

Cascade of Joy

It's turning out to be much more than a good weekend. Last night, at 10:35 pm, Jenah Joy Stice was born in Suva in the Fiji Islands. (Alternatively, because Fiji is west of the International Date Line, she was born later today--May 16.) We spoke to Lind and Kris via an early-morning Skype connection and learned that baby Jenah is healthy and happy. We are so grateful.

Amazing People, Beautiful Planet

It's been a pretty good weekend so far. Last night Stephanie and I saw James Taylor and Carole King in concert at the Hollywood Bowl. The music and the setting and were sublime. When James Taylor sang "Fire and Rain" and Carole King sang "It's Too Late" I was deeply stirred and grateful to be present. We returned home at close to 1 am (Hilly traveled with us to Westwood and spent the evening with her friend Tina at UCLA). I woke this morning at 6:30 to go scuba diving with my adventure buddy, Wayne. During the semi-chilly spring dive we saw two bat rays, a lobster, a baby octopus, and two enormous (coconut-size) sea hares. What an amazing world we inhabit! For all its tensions and tragedies, the earth is studded with beauty across the panorama of culture and nature. I wish, I hope, that this beauty will be preserved, even perfected, in the next life. Among Christian theologians conceptualizations of heaven are shifting toward visions that emphasize continuity between this world and the next. I love the thought--that what is wonderful now might be preserved forever. Thy kingdom come.