Why we love our blankies
October 19, 2010 Leave a comment
Timeline, 2007: My oldest son is like Linus. He will not part with his “fuzzy,” a blanket that has now survived almost six years of nightlong hugging, trips by plane, train, and automobile, a lonely overnight at a Gymboree, and endless variations on superheroes, ghosts, and pirate headwraps. A professor at the University of Bristol, working with another researcher from Yale, found that children appear to attach a property beyond the physical to these objects of their sleepytime need. The two professors, Bruce Hood and Paul Bloom (of Yale), tested children ages 3 to 6 who had an attachment toy, something that they slept with regularly and had owned for at least one-third of their lives.
For the study, the grownups played a trick on the children. They showed the kids a conjurer’s box with a lot of fancy knobs on it and told them that it was a copying machine that could duplicate objects. To demonstrate, the grownups placed a green block in the machine, fooled around with some of the knobs, and made the first box buzz. Then, the second box of the machine buzzed, and when the doors opened, there was an identical green block behind door number 2.
Linus was engaged in magical thinking
A total of 22 children had brought their attachment objects for the study. After witnessing the amazing abilities of the copying box, four of them simply refused to allow their special object to be “copied” at all. The remaining 18 did allow it, but when choosing between the “copy” and the original, only five selected the “copy.”
Another group of children had brought nonattachment objects for the study. Every child consented to the copying process, and when it came time to choose between their object and the “duplicate,” almost two-thirds opted for the “new” version. Once the study was completed, all children learned that the object they had selected was, in fact, their original toy or blanket.
The Queen’s chalice
The researchers also conducted a different set of experiments in which they placed a goblet in the machine and told the child that it was special either because it was made of silver or had belonged to the “Queen,” presumably the Queen of England. Children who thought it was made of precious metal felt that the “copy” was worth the same as the original; however, children who were told that the original was the Queen’s thought it was of superior value to the “duplicate.”
What drives this kind of irrational, magical thinking? According to Hood, from the University of Bristol, humans are evolved to seek explanations for what cannot be seen, such as gravity. Because mechanisms for many natural phenomena cannot be directly observed but must be inferred, we rely heavily on our intuitive thinking to reach conclusions. This reliance leaves the door open to believing supernatural explanations for what we otherwise cannot explain. Attachment objects may be a substitute for a child who sleeps separately from his mother. But children also appear to confer on the object an “essence,” some meaning beyond its physical worth, something that makes it different from an exact physical duplicate.
The killer’s cardigan
Children are not alone in their reliance on credulity. Grownups use superstition as a way to cope with situations or feel more control over them or to explain the unexplainable. Hood demonstrated the adult tendency to believe an “essence” very clearly in a recent presentation. He offered audience members the chance to earned a quick $25 just for putting on a worn old blue cardigan. Numerous volunteers raised their hands. When he then mentioned that the cardigan had been the property of a notorious mass murderer, most volunteer hands disappeared. The few people who did put on the sweater, which had not really belonged to a murderer, found that the other members of the audience avoided them while they wore it. Scientists are not immune—plenty of us would simply refuse to exchange our wedding rings for an exact copy, for example, even though physically, it is no different from the original we wear on our ring finger.