A stressor by any other name would stress just as much
Psychological hormesis - toxicology - mythology - Federer - 007 - Scorcese - psychological tools
Part 1: Tales of Poison
After his father had been assassinated by a lethal dose of arsenic, the Persian King Mithridates was keen to avoid the same fate. It was this determination which was in equal parts paranoia and obsession, that led him to toxicology. He began ingesting tiny amounts of various poisons to build immunity. It is rumoured that when the Romans defeated his army after several years of war, the King attempted suicide by drinking poison. Ironically, he was a victim of his own success - though he had lost the geopolitical war against the Romans, he had won the biological war against his immune system. The poisons were no match against his robust immunity and this was no longer a viable method of suicide.
Over the course of this article, I will use toxicology, the Hero’s Journey, Roger Federer, James Bond, Martin Scorcese, and pop culture in general, to speak about something called psychological hormesis. Along the way, we will re-examine our relationship with stress and stressors, understand why stress elimination is at best futile and at worst harmful, discover agency-building psychological exercises such as voluntary stressor selection, and re-frame what it means to think about the future and our future selves.
This ‘immunity to poison’ motif surfaces in many stories spanning multiple time-periods and cultures. In some ways this motif is a ‘narrative accomplice’ to the elixir of immortality myth. An oral potion (the elixir) grants the drinker infinite life whilst the poison, by strengthening immunity, helps stave off death. Potions to prolong life, poisons to cheat death.
A couple of other notable examples:
The protagonist in the movie ‘The Princess Bride’ had spent years building immunity to iocane powder, which he uses to defeat his hubristic opponent Vizzini.
Alexandre Dumas’ ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’ is full of commentary on poison, as seen by the two quotes below:
“Let us agree that the word poison does not exist, because in medicine use is made of the most violent poisons, which become, according as they are employed, most salutary remedies.”
“Only remember one thing—a small dose is a remedy, a large one is poison.”
Dumas, in lyrical prose, describes a biological phenomenon called hormesis. It refers to the beneficial effects achieved through exposure to a low-dose stressor whilst the same stressor at a high(er) dose has negative effects.
Aside from toxicology, we see countless examples of hormesis in everyday life:
Fitness - a gym newbie will pick a weight modest enough which stresses the muscle fibres but is doable rather than attempting deadlifts at 200kg, which will likely cause some injuries.
Learning - an intermediate Spanish learner is unlikely to be stressed by reciting the alphabet but attempting to write a sequel to Don Quixote is too high a dose and they are likely to fail.
The same principle applies to sauna use, cold exposure, and high altitude training. It is important to remember that the definition of what is a low or high dose is dynamic: it differs across individuals, and it differs for an individual across time.
Part 2: Hormesis and The Hero’s Journey
The concept of hormesis permeates throughout the monomyth structure. A simple and in-your-face explanation can be presented by the two pseudo-equations below:
The Hero’s journey = mythological depiction of hormesis
OR
Hormesis = biological variant of The Hero’s Journey
The Hero faces a series of increasingly difficult trials which leads to their growth and transformation. Each challenge is more difficult than the next - this is a biological feature rather than a karmic bug as the progressive difficulty level is mandatory to prepare the Hero for the next stage. In the process the Hero ventures from the comfort zone of their ordinary familiar world into the unknown special world, undergoing a transformation by overcoming increasing amounts of adversity, cultivating stress inoculation against uncertainty and the unknown. The journey is every bit as physical as it is psychological - as neither can exist without the other.
One of the stages of the Hero’s Journey is “refusal of the call” which describes the protagonist’s reluctance to embark on the journey. The commonly cited reasons for this are fear, aversion to the unknown, lack of confidence or conviction in their abilities, or responsibilities in their current life.
The refusal of the call is a critical stage as it highlights the following:
The distance between what the protagonist currently is and what constitutes a hero/what they will eventually become
The weaknesses of the protagonist; they are not a resolute, flawless and omnipotent individual
The vulnerability and insecurities of the protagonist invoking empathy and providing a sense of relatability from the audience
The potential or scope for what the person can become is much more impressive than what the character currently is
The transformation that is yet to occur
The significance and magnitude of the adventure or journey in question; at least for the protagonist this is not a minor event - the nature of the journey brings out hesitation, uncomfortability and an uneasiness
Hormesis, whether in biology or mythology, cannot occur if the refusal of the call is absolute. This is obvious but true, hence often ignored. What becomes of the Hero’s Journey in the following situations:
Star Wars - Luke Skywalker refuses to accompany Obi Wan Kenobi to Alderaan with the Death Star plans even after the murder of his aunt and uncle, and remains on Tatooine
The Matrix - Neo chooses the blue pill instead from Morpheus and resumes his ‘normal’ life in the Matrix
The Lion King - The adult Simba refuses to return to the Pride Lands even after being visited by his father’s spirit who encourages him to take his place as the rightful King
Although we can only predict what becomes of these characters when they outright refuse the call, it is likely we wouldn’t share the relationship with them which we do now. The protagonist’s absolute refusal of adventure despite constant attempts of persuasion by other characters or forces, demotes their stature in our eyes - our regard for them lessens. Rejecting the adventure robs them of the opportunity of realising their potential - which as a viewer we would hold against the protagonist.
Maximum viable stressors
The dose of the stressor is critical - it has a “Goldilocks” principle behind it. The stressor or challenge should not be so powerful that it completely overwhelms us but also difficult enough that it warrants some effort on our part. It has to be just right - the most difficult challenge that is doable. Hence, earning its name.
Let’s turn our attention to the world of sports briefly - home to many a hero’s journey. Impossible-to-complete challenges will result in repetitive failure; both academic studies and life teach us that repetitive failure results in discouragement, loss of motivation and withdrawal from the challenge. On the other hand, tasks which require zero struggle will not serve a beneficial purpose and result in boredom.
Peak Roger Federer outclassing the 300th seed on his way to a victory may be a masterclass to watch but it is likely to be a disappointing outcome to all involved. For Federer, he may have had a chance to refine some (rare) glitch in his game as he prepares for the next rounds. His opponent may have gained some valuable experience in playing against a Tennis great that may provide valuable lessons going forward. The audience may have been enthralled by Federer’s skill and ability as he dominated his way to victory. However, for each involved, there is a better and more exciting alternative. For example:
Roger Federer - playing against such a weak opponent meant he would have hardly been stress-tested and any glitch that he did improve may easily surface against a better player → the ideal scenario would have been to play against an opponent that could have tested him to a higher degree but one that Federer could still defeat
The opponent - whilst failure can teach many lessons, sometimes the nature of defeat matters; being steamrolled in a match can motivate the player to perform better in the future, but a better alternative would have involved the opponent asking questions of Federer, pushing him and gaining confidence
The audience - the most appetising matches are those where two players go toe-to-toe, matching each other at every level, with everyone in doubt of who will emerge the winner → a battle of equals performing at a level beyond mortals
As an audience our interest in the game is rooted on the premise of risk. Knowing there is a genuine risk to Federer’s victory not only engages us in the match, but it also strengthens the support of his fans towards him. This holds true for any sports match. The greater the risk, the greater the test, the greater the victory. The hero’s greatness is determined by the level of resistance they can overcome.
Situations or stimuli which pose no risk to the hero or organism are unlikely to cause a hormetic response. This reminds me of Martin Scorcese’s dislike for the Marvel franchise. In his New York Times Op-ed, Scorcese said:
“What’s not there is revelation, mystery or genuine emotional danger. Nothing is at risk.”
Part 3: This Stressful Life
Mimetic language distances us from the truth
Stress can deprive us of the language we need to converse with ourselves and share with others, which is why we can resort to using words others have used in this context but lack fidelity to our own sentiments. If others are similar to us, then they too are using words that sound appropriate but not quite capturing the experience in its truest form. Words which feel correct but not true, similar to corporate jargon, which also explains a certain genre of Linkedin posts about stress that do the rounds. Eventually over time, we begin to fit our experience of stress onto the lexicon that we are using. A disconnect between the true experience and the vocalisation of that experience, similar to stated and revealed preferences. As a result, finding solutions for the problems we think we have will not fix our actual problems.
Reducing the difficulty setting
A simple and generic statement: there are certain problems in our life, which we are unable to handle and as a result they cause us stress.
Our reflexive thought is (understandably) something along the lines of ‘I wish this problem could just disappear’. In binary terms, we want the problem to go from 1 to 0. The fact that we want the problem to magically disappear and haven’t yet resolved it suggests that taking the problem from 1 to 0 is not an easy task.
But what if we could take it from 1 to 0.8? Could we handle the problem at 80% of its current severity? What about 50%? The aim, through visualisation or otherwise, is to imagine what a milder version of this problem could look like. Or framing it differently, what is the highest % severity of this problem that you can handle?
Can you identify some variables which can be changed or reframed to lessen the intensity of the problem? In that case perhaps it's better to focus efforts on changing those variables rather than worrying about the entirety of the problem which elicits helplessness and therefore inaction.
What troubles James Bond?
Let’s take the example of James Bond in Casino Royale, in particular the poker tournament scene. Bond’s objective is to win the poker tournament, where the entry is $10million, and defeat Le Chiffre, hoping to force him into seeking asylum with the British government. Le Chiffre is a mathematical mastermind and an expert poker player. This alone represents a sizeable stressor. However, as the evening progresses, Bond:
Is attacked by 2 henchmen with connections to Le Chiffre - he eventually kills them both in a violent altercation
Loses the $10million stake after being outsmarted by Le Chiffre
Negotiates a deal with a CIA agent to stake him an additional $5 million to re-enter the tournament
Is poisoned by Le Chiffre’s lover, and in a sepsis-fuelled haze with death looming seconds away, Bond reaches his car, makes contact with MI6, administers an injection, attaches the defibrillator pads only to realise there is a faulty connection. Before he can fix the wire, he ‘dies’. He is found by Vesper who resuscitates him and Bond, shortly after having been dead in every sense of the word, nonchalantly removes his pads, buttons up his shirt and bow tie, and heads back to the game to win the poker tournament.
There is a quote, which I have found to be both profound and fortune-cookie wisdom on different occasions: ‘you can tell the size of a person by the size of the problem that troubles them’ - or something to that extent. One objective of the above scene from Casino Royale, was to showcase the ‘size’ of Bond’s character. He overcomes multiple physical (combat), cognitive (poker) and biological (toxin) stressors, including death, without (much) panic.
One way of observing our relationship with stress is that it bears an interdependent quality. The nature of the stressor dictates our response, and in turn our response informs the nature of the stressor. There are multiple interconnecting interactions happening along different axes, whether it is between the external environmental trigger and our internal response, biochemical and psychological responses, internal and external response, voluntary and involuntary mechanisms, impulsive and (pre)meditated behaviours.
The conversation about stress and modern life is mostly focused on how stress impacts us and our responses e.g. implications of stress on health, strategies for management and prevention. But much of this discussion is one-way traffic or rather there exists an asymmetric relationship. It is us who give our stressors existence, identity and meaning. We are capable of autonomically completing tasks that would have overwhelmed us in the past e.g. delivering a presentation. Respecting stressors and being intimidated by them are two different things. More of the former, less of the latter.
Part 4
Community Unto Ourselves
One of the concepts we struggle to internalise is that we are a community unto ourselves. It is difficult for our current self to act or make decisions which will benefit our future self. Common examples include eating a poor diet over a few years, then looking back at old photos wishing our past self had made different choices. Or leaving a deadline for the last minute. Our current selves rarely thank our past selves but in an act of cognitive dissonance our current self makes decisions without much care for the future self. And so the cycle repeats.
Our discord with our future self, this inability or indifference to fathom the ripples of our actions along a lengthy time horizon is a deterrent in appreciating that there can be (at least) two versions of a community:
Multiple different individuals dispersed across space (spatially)
Multiple versions of the same individual dispersed across time (temporally)
Common threads help bind together both communities: memories, experiences and narratives. But it seems as if the collective consciousness is more cohesive in the first community than the second. Elongated feedback loops blindside us from the realisation that our current self has ‘skin in the game’ in relation to our future self. A possible mitigation of this could be to engineer a time compression mechanism which provides a direct short feedback loop of how our present behaviours impact future versions. (Games are a great example of clear feedback loops and time compression - to be elaborated in future posts)
Psychological syncing of our present and future selves
Retraining our thought patterns to find the maximum viable stressor that we can confront rather than wishing the problem away is important not just because it's a healthier psychological response (it is). But it helps ‘sync’ our current and future selves together, closing the gap and minimising the dissonance.
Our relationship with the future is a predictive one. It is characterized by both asymmetric and imperfect information, ambiguity, uncertainty, and distorted feedback loops. (This should not sound daunting or dystopian - another way to think of this is that these are the exact same features which provide the ‘spark’ in the beginning of a relationship).
Given the above characteristics of the future, stress elimination as a goal is futile (and harmful). Instead, in an effort to help the psychological syncing of our current and future self, we should constantly be on the lookout for maximum viable stressors. Being an active participant in selecting our stressors, at the right dose, provides a sense of agency which is not possible as a passive observer. This exercise also helps us to fine-tune our sensitivities to identify the correct dose for ourselves - it is a forcing function to be more introspective of our inner workings and abilities and then stress-test these in the external world. In the process we end up building our own low-risk simulations where we have the opportunity to engage, develop, process feedback and iterate. The intentional voluntary selection of our stressors also helps our future selves prepare for the involuntary stressors that we have no choice over.
Welcome any thoughts, sentiments, ideas and feedback - Twitter DMs always open :)