Drew Turney’s blog, Wired For Stories, shares amazing brain research that has shed light on the psychology, sociology, and anthropology of storytelling.
The Story of Us
Unless we are some sort of Zen master of mindfulness, for good or ill, most of us walk around all day immersed in the story in our head. We converse with ourselves or imaginary people. We react to events, parse their meaning, and fit them into patterns of our own creation. Each of us stars in our own story for an audience of one. The late neurologist Oliver Sacks has written extensively on the subject. We seem to be hardwired to find patterns and impose sense on this narrative we call life. We unconsciously amend the objective facts to make a “better” story: More dramatic, more interesting, or just to “earn the ending.” Events really can’t be random and meaningless, right? And that pattern-finding instinct comes into play as we see images in random patterns, from clouds to grilled tortillas.
We Love Some Oxytocin
Human brains produce oxytocin, aka “cuddle hormone,” when we feel trusted or receive a kindness. It increases our empathic abilities–insight into other people’s emotional states–and thus makes cooperation more likely. (Fun fact: Oxytocin triggers the let-down reflex for nursing mother’s milk flow.) Dr. Paul Zak’s brain chemistry research at Claremont Graduate University took blood from test subjects before and after they heard a narrative. Character-driven stories were associated with increased oxytocin levels. And more oxytocin is associated with more cooperation. Researchers have found stories—”experiential products”—provide happiness, just like real-life experiences.
“Collaborate or Die”
Proto- and early humans had to get it together, literally, or die. An individual naked ape had little chance in the wild. One thesis of social development cites the power of empathy—internalizing another creature’s observed experience and reacting to it as one’s own. This instinct lead to banding together and cooperative behavior. It helped get all member of the group get “on the same page,” as it were. Early cave paints hint at an oral tradition of storytelling that harnessed the group’s experience: A powerful bonding tool.
The Power of Story
As biologist Nathan Lents points out, “We cannot feel empathy for data.” A character-driven, emotional rich narrative is remembered more accurately later and is more likely to change behavior. Marketers and educators tap this aspect of human psychology. When I was in graduate school, I used a case study for a presentation on health behavior principles. My patient had worked hard as a coal miner all his life. He’d played hard, too. He loved the nightlife, his beer, and cigarettes. When we meet, he had end-stage lung disease. Medicines were barely helpful, and the disease would slowly but inevitably destroy his lungs, each breath a labored gasp. But then, he was put on the wait list for lung transplant.
See what I did there? This expository piece turned into a story about a poor dude who couldn’t breathe. Maybe it’s a little more interesting now, as the oxytocin-driven empathy kicks in.
Because story links directly with our emotions, the connection is stronger and faster. The facts don’t have to convince us of the superiority of a particular brand of chewing gum: We saw a sweet, one-minute story about a man, his growing daughter, and the bond between them symbolized by a chewing-gum wrapper collection.