People generally believe that thoughts and emotions are separate, often opposing, motives for behavior. We think of ourselves as—at least potentially—rational beings who can make, and then act on, dispassionate logical decisions. On the other hand, although we might value emotional expression in art or relationships, we can also see our emotions as unruly “irrational” forces that hijack our behavior and make us do things despite our better judgment: We see a piece of cake, feel pleasure as we imagine its taste and texture, and despite thinking “I shouldn’t eat this.” find ourselves doing just that.
As a result, people may conclude that things would work best if we suppressed our emotions and just followed our rational thinking. In reality, thought without emotion doesn’t influence action: thoughts are only as motivating as the emotions they accompany.
So, the problem isn’t that we desire the cake, but rather that the thought “I shouldn’t eat this.” isn’t coupled with negative emotions strong enough to overcome the pleasure and excitement triggered by the thought of eating it. If instead we remember having felt angry, even disgusted, with ourselves for having indulged in the past–or even better–pride over having successfully resisted, to the extent that those memories trigger strong emotions in the present, we might turn away from the cake and distract ourselves. Anticipatory emotions triggered by imagining how we will feel after eating can also have the same effect. After the fact, we might attribute our self-restraint to “willpower” supported by rational thought, rather than understanding it as the happy outcome of a tug of war of emotions.
Neurological evidence supports this idea. Brain injuries that damage the limbic areas responsible for emotional responses leave people passive and unmotivated. People with injuries that prevent emotional input to the frontal brain areas where planning occurs are incapable of deciding whether to make an appointment on a Monday or a Tuesday. Much of the time people with this lack of emotional input to decision making areas seem unchanged because they rely on habits that they developed before the injury. Indeed, much of what we think and do is a product of force of habit.
So, rather than thinking in terms of thought versus emotion, it is more accurate to think of behavior as the result of emotions and habits.
Habits are created when emotions motivate us to repeatedly think or do the same thing. That said, emotions can also interfere with habitual behavior: e.g. while following your morning routine, the sight of a piece of cake in the fridge triggers anticipatory pleasure that takes you off track.
Another way of putting it is that emotions and habits are the brain’s motivational operating system.
The things that we know and believe are also mental habits, originally created by emotion-based reinforcement: knowing that 2+2=4 is a mental habit reinforced by childhood experiences of pride when others praised us for getting it right and shame we felt when we didn’t.
How Do Emotions Operate?
Emotions are the result of an unconscious interpretation of a present, imagined or remembered situation as bad or good; according to evolutionary biology, bad or good for passing on our genes to the next generation.
Each emotion has a specific goal. For example, fear motivates us to avoid, escape or neutralize danger. Anger motivates us to take control of situations: to stop others (or ourselves) from doing things that we believe are against our interests, or to get them to do things that we believe will benefit us.
Emotions further their goals in two ways: instinctual responses and and attention leading to problem solving.
Instinctual responses include both actions and physiological changes that support them. Both fear and anger trigger the fight or flight response: adrenaline is released into the blood, resulting in increased heart rate and blood sugar; blood flow to the muscles is increased; surface blood vessels contract to limit bleeding if attacked.
Some emotions also trigger facial expressions and physical postures intended to induce emotions in others that then motivate them to act in ways that further the emotion’s goal. When we grimace from pain, others feel discomfort that motivates them to help us with the dysfunction or injury that has caused it. When we feel sad over losing someone or something we were bonded to, our facial expression and dejected posture elicits concern and consoling behavior that reminds us of existing connections, and possibly creates new ones.
The sensation of these physical changes are the “feeling” of the emotion. We feel emotions in our bodies.
When an emotion focuses our attention on the object–or thought–that is associated with the emotion, this facilitates problem-solving. You see a pothole out of the corner of your eye, the idea of going into it triggers fear, which makes you pay attention to it and rapidly, unconsciously, develop and implement a plan avoid it.
If someone doesn’t say hello back, we interpret this as a rejection, feel hurt, maybe then angry, and think “He doesn’t like me.” Not only does the hurt keep us focused on this idea, it validates it. In this situation we are more likely to say “I feel that he doesn’t like me.” than “I think that he doesn’t like me.” When we say “I feel that…” we are expressing a thought that is validated by an emotion. Indeed, concordant emotions makes thoughts “feel true.” (Imagine thinking “He doesn’t like me.” but feeling nothing; doesn’t feel true, does it?).
Why don’t we understand the role emotions play?
The main reason we don’t understand the ubiquitous role of emotions is that they focus our attention on the objects or thoughts that trigger them, rather than on the physical sensations that allow us to consciously identify the emotion. We typically only pay attention to the feeling of the emotion when the emotion is strong and lasting enough to trigger unusual physical sensations, sensations that trigger distress that then focuses our attention on those sensations, e.g. when fear of public speaking makes our heart race and knees shake, allowing us to identify that we are afraid. But this is the exception to the rule: most emotions are mild and transient. They slip under the radar unless we are asked to identify them by a therapist or friend.
We also may become aware of an emotion when it motivates a behavior that we don’t like: e.g. when the person who thinks of herself as “nice” feels anger that motivates her to shout “in spite of herself.”
Emotions are not a problem; in fact, we need them to motivate action and the creation of helpful habits. That said, emotions work best when they are mild and brief, when they serve a “signaling” function which draws our attention to things that may be important, but aren’t strong enough to trigger impulsive action. This allows us to consciously evaluate the importance of those things and, if necessary, consider possible responses and their outcomes. This thinking may then generate other emotions that may reinforce a well founded but weak signal emotion, or counter an unfounded one.