Canadian researchers launch national index of well-being

Index, 12 years in the making, tracks quality of life in Canada.

http://www.ciw.ca/en/

Like many colleges, Washington University in St. Louis offers children of its faculty free tuition. So Leonard Green, a professor of psychology there, did all he could to persuade his daughter to choose the school. He extolled its academic offerings, praised its social atmosphere, talked up its extracurricular activities—and promised that if Hannah chose Washington he would give her $20,000 each undergraduate year, plus $20,000 at graduation, for a nest egg totaling $100,000.

She went to New York University.

To many, this might seem like a simple case of shortsightedness, a decision based on today’s wants (an exciting city, independence) versus tomorrow’s needs (money, shelter). Indeed, the choice to spend rather than save reflects a very human—and, some would say, American—quirk: a preference for immediate gratification over future gains. In other words, we get far more joy from buying a new pair of shoes today, or a Caribbean vacation, or an iPhone 4S, than from imagining a comfortable life tomorrow. Throw in an instant-access culture—in which we can get answers on the Internet within seconds, have a coffeepot delivered to our door overnight, and watch movies on demand—and we’re not exactly training the next generation to delay gratification.

“Pleasure now is worth more to us than pleasure later,” says economist William Dickens of Northeastern University. “We much prefer current consumption to future consumption. It may even be wired into us.”

As brain scientists plumb the neurology of an afternoon at the mall, they are discovering measurable differences between the brains of people who save and those who spend with abandon, particularly in areas of the brain that predict consequences, process the sense of reward, spur motivation, and control memory.

In fact, neuroscientists are mapping the brain’s saving and spending circuits so precisely that they have been able to rev up the saving and disable the spending in some people (in the lab, alas; not at the cash register). The result: people’s preferences switch from spending like a drunken sailor to saving like a child of the Depression. All told, the gray matter responsible for some of our most crucial decisions is finally revealing its secrets. Call it the “moneybrain.”

Psychologists and behavioral economists, meanwhile, are identifying the personality types and other traits that distinguish savers from spenders, showing that people who aren’t good savers are neither stupid nor irrational—but often simply don’t accurately foresee the consequences of not saving. Rewire the brain to find pleasure in future rewards, and you’re on the path to a future you really want.

In one experiment, neuroeconomist Paul Glimcher of New York University wanted to see what it would take for people to willingly delay gratification. He gave a dozen volunteers a choice: $20 now or more money, from $20.25 to $110, later. On one end of the spectrum was the person who agreed to take $21 in a month—to essentially wait a month in order to gain just $1. In economics-speak, this kind of person has a “flat discount function,” meaning he values tomorrow almost as much as today and is therefore able to delay gratification. At the other end was someone who was willing to wait a month only if he got $68, a premium of $48 from the original offer. This is someone economists call a “steep discounter,” meaning the value he puts on the future (and having money then) is dramatically less than the value he places on today; when he wants something, he wants it now. The $21 person was, tellingly, an M.D.-Ph.D. student. “If you’re willing to go to grad school for eight years, you’re really willing to delay gratification,” says Glimcher.

More revealing was the reason for the differences. To measure brain activity while people considered whether to delay gratification, researchers slid their subjects into functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) machines. The scientists found that activity in two regions—the ventral striatum, tucked deep in the brain, and the medial prefrontal cortex (PFC) right behind the forehead—closely tracked people’s preferences. In someone who was offered a choice between $100 today or $100 next week, activity in these regions plunged when the next-week choice was considered, and fell even more as the payoff was postponed further and further into the future. These are spend-it-now, to-hell-with-tomorrow people who seek immediate gratification. In other people, however, activity in the ventral striatum and medial prefrontal cortex activity was the same whether they were thinking of having money today or down the road—indicating that they were just as happy either way.

For anyone who wants to save more but can’t seem to do so, that raises the obvious question: how can I make my ventral striatum and medial prefrontal cortex as happy about rewards in the future as they are about rewards today?

Gallery: Inside Our Brains

It’s something that scientists are actively studying. In one classic study from the late 1960s, fondly known as the marshmallow experiment, scientists at Stanford University led by psychologist Walter Mischel (now at Columbia University) offered 4-year-olds a marshmallow, and left it invitingly in front of them. The hitch: if the kids waited to eat the marshmallow until the experimenter, who stepped out of the room, returned in a few minutes, they could have two marshmallows. More than a decade later, the children who waited and got the second marshmallow scored much higher on the SAT, supporting the idea that impulse control and other aspects of “emotional intelligence” are linked to academic performance. The reward delayers were also less likely to be obese, to have become addicted to illegal drugs, and to be divorced—outcomes that are more likely in people who go for immediate gratification.

The marshmallow children were tested every dozen years or so, says Mischel, and are now in their 40s. In a study reported in August in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, scientists led by psychobiologist B. J. Casey of Weill Cornell Medical College gathered 59 of the original kids and gave them an adult version of the delayed-gratification test. Using fMRI, they analyzed differences in brain activity between those who were good at delaying gratification and those who opted for instant rewards, marshmallows or otherwise. In high delayers, the brain’s thoughtful, rational prefrontal cortex was more active, as was the right inferior frontal gyrus, which inhibits the “I want it now” impulse. Poor delayers had less activity in both regions, but higher activity in regions of the limbic system that respond to instant gratification. Identifying the regions of the brain that control such impulses is a first step in learning how to strengthen them and, ultimately, to enjoy saving.

Other studies, too, have shown the key role the prefrontal cortex plays in making us willing to defer gratification today in favor of saving for retirement. The dorsolateral PFC, in particular, sends “calm down” signals to the midbrain’s “I want it now” circuits. As a result, in studies that use strong magnets to temporarily disable the dorsolateral PFC on human volunteers, “people get more impulsive,” says NYU’s Glimcher. That is, they strongly prefer immediate gratification. “But if you artificially activate it,” he says, people become perfectly content to save for tomorrow.

The noninvasive “zapping” technology, called transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS), is currently being studied at Columbia University and NYU, among other places. The technology works by inducing a weak electric current in targeted regions of the brain. In the lab, that allows scientists to pinpoint regions of people’s brains responsible for specific functions. In other words, if zapping an area disables that area, then anything the person can no longer do is presumably controlled by that spot.

So far, none of the researchers using TMS to map the brain have wheeled the device to a shopping mall and aimed it at people who buy $300 sunglasses and $150 T-shirts despite having contributed $0 to their savings, but the notion isn’t preposterous. TMS has been successfully used to treat chronic pain, major depression, tinnitus, and some symptoms of schizophrenia, in each case by revving up or shutting down activity in specific brain circuits that underlie the condition.

Since zapping your brain to rev up the dorsolateral PFC is not ready for primetime, scientists have begun searching for more practical ways to develop a moneybrain that has a talent for saving. One hint comes from the discovery that the size of the dorsolateral PFC differs from one person to another, notes neuroeconomist Paul Zak of Claremont Graduate University, as does the number and strength of its connections to the midbrain’s circuits. Everything that’s been discovered about the plasticity of the adult brain suggests that it should be possible to increase the number or strength of these connections so that the midbrain receives more calming signals.

Research has also shown that having a good short-term (or “working”) memory is associated with being able to project yourself into the future and plan for it, which is a prerequisite of saving. That’s partly because achieving a goal requires keeping it in mind. Brain scans back this up: the dorsolateral PFC is responsible for both. In one recent study, psychologist Warren Bickel of Virginia Tech put people through training exercises that improved their memory, and found they also developed “longer time horizons,” meaning they valued the future more. “We’re only at the beginning of figuring out how to change people’s temporal horizons,” says Bickel. “But the preliminary data are encouraging.”

That seems to be what some of those original marshmallow-experiment children accomplished. Although the kids who remained in the same category—good at delaying gratification as toddlers as well as adults, or bad at both ages—have received the lion’s share of the media attention, Mischel points out that many of the kids who gobbled up the marshmallow at the age of 4 learned to resist the lure of immediate gratification by the time they were young adults. “Being unable to delay gratification is not something we’re stuck with for life,” says Mischel. And a public that is infatuated with brain scans should know that just because a brain behaves in a particular way does not mean that it is hard-wired to do so.

To the contrary: even children can train their brains to recognize that forgoing pleasure now can bring a greater payoff later, says Claremont’s Zak: doing homework tonight can bring good grades next month; saving a small allowance to buy one nice thing later rather than cheap junk every week. “You develop willpower and patience through practice,” he says. “If you defer gratification, the payoff can be greater than with immediate gratification,” says Zak, “but your brain has to learn that.” He also finds that a squirt of the hormone oxytocin—known as the “love hormone” because of the role it plays in pair bonding and maternal behavior—makes people more patient: when people with a shot of the hormone are offered $10 now or $12 later, they are willing to wait 43 percent longer for that “later” to arrive (14 days rather than 10, for instance). “This tells us that people who are happier and have greater social support save more,” says Zak. “Oxytocin reduces anxiety, so we can make decisions that are better for us.” Not that we should be shooting ourselves up—but the research does suggest that any way we can reduce anxiety might also help us save for a rainy day.

This is good news for a generation of young people whose odds appear to be stacked against them. Research shows this group typically isn’t willing to delay gratification, in part because they tend to be more impulsive and less patient, but also because they think they have plenty of time to save when they’re older. “A college student who expects to graduate and obtain a high-paying job, or a young professional who expects to gain significant annual raises, will be apt not to save because they expect to be able to make up for lost time by saving more later,” says economist Antony Davies of Duquesne University. “Another factor is inexperience. Young people are inexperienced at being old. A 22-year-old will perceive 20 years as an eternity. To ask this person to save for retirement is like asking the person to give his money to someone else: he cannot picture himself as a retiree.”

Economists are waiting to see how the entitled, indulged children of helicopter parents will behave. On the one hand, many of them have been showered with every conceivable largesse, from private music lessons and pricey soccer camps to the SAT tutoring that got them into a top college. For many of those raised in two-career households, “no” was a word they seldom heard from their parents, so eager were Mom and Dad to compensate for their lack of quantity time by providing quality time—and experiences and stuff—instead. Even if they are inclined to save, they’re facing real obstacles: many emerged from college with significantly more student-loan debt than those who came before them and are entering a job market getting weaker by the month.

Science has yet to identify whether the brains of the Twitter generation are any different from the rest of ours, but today’s culture of one-click shopping and instant messaging doesn’t merely satisfy our desire for instant gratification, it encourages it. “If you grow up in an environment marked by such short time horizons, of course you’re going to satisfy your desires as quickly as you can,” says Virginia Tech’s Bickel. “Unless you’re trained to control your impulses, why would you? Instant gratification is fun, and that’s what today’s technology is teaching us.” What life teaches us, however, is another matter. Five years after she graduated, Hannah Green admits that, although she loved NYU, maybe she should have accepted that $100,000 from her father instead.

In my experience, the more people have, the less likely they are to be contented. Indeed, there is abundant evidence that depression is a “disease of affluence,” a disorder of modern life in the industrialized world. People who live in poorer countries have a lower risk of depression than those in industrialized nations. In general, countries with lifestyles that are furthest removed from modern standards have the lowest rates of depression.

Within the U.S., the rate of depression of members of the Old Order Amish—a religious sect that shuns modernity in favor of lifestyles roughly emulating those of rural Americans a century ago—is as low as one 10th that of other Americans.

Psychologist Martin Seligman, originator of the field of positive psychology and director of the Positive Psychology Center at the University of Pennsylvania, has studied the Old Order Amish, along with other premodern cultures. He concludes: “Putting this together, there seems to be something about modern life that creates fertile soil for depression.”

Another prominent researcher whose work I respect, Stephen Ilardi, professor of psychology at the University of Kansas and author of The Depression Cure, observes, “The more ‘modern’ a society’s way of life, the higher its rate of depression. It may seem baffling, but the explanation is simple: the human body was never designed for the modern postindustrial environment.”

list

• 10 Tips to Stay Sane in a Faster, Louder World

More and more of us are sedentary, spending most of our time indoors. We eat industrial food much altered from its natural sources, and there is reason for concern about how our changed eating habits are affecting our brain activity and our moods. We are deluged by an unprecedented overload of information and stimulation in this age of the Internet, email, mobile phones, and multimedia, all of which favor social isolation and certainly affect our emotional (and physical) health.

Behaviors strongly associated with depression—reduced physical activity and human contact, overconsumption of processed food, seeking endless distraction—are the very behaviors that more and more people now can do, are even forced to do by the nature of their sedentary, indoor jobs.

This kind of life simply was not an option throughout most of human history, as there was no infrastructure to support it, much less require it.

Human beings evolved to thrive in natural environments and in bonded social groups. Few of us today can enjoy such a life and the emotional equilibrium it engenders, but our genetic predisposition for it has not changed. The term “nature-deficit disorder” has recently entered the popular vocabulary, though it has not yet made it into the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders or been accepted by the medical community. It was coined by the author Richard Louv to explain a wide range of behavior problems in children who spend less time outdoors but now is invoked as the root cause of an even wider range of both physical and emotional ailments in people of all ages who are disconnected from nature.

I believe we are gathering scientific evidence for the benefits of living close to nature, not simply for enjoying its beauty or getting spiritual sustenance but for keeping our brains and nervous systems in good working order. A few examples:

• We get vitamin D, now known to be necessary for optimum brain health, by spending time in the sun.

• Our cycles of sleep and waking and other circadian rhythms are maintained by exposure to bright light during the day and darkness at night. Lack of bright natural light during waking hours and exposure to artificial light at night disrupt these rhythms, interfering with our sleep, energy, and moods.

• Hunter-gatherers and other “primitive” people do not develop the deficits of vision and the need for corrective lenses as early in life as people in our society do, probably because they grow up looking at distant landscapes more often than reading books, writing, or staring at television and computer screens. Because the eye is a direct extension of the brain, eye health is an indicator of brain health.

• Our hearing has evolved to attend to and analyze changes in the complex acoustical patterns of nature, like those of forests, running water, rain, and wind. Evolution did not prepare us to endure the kinds of man-made sounds that pervade our cities and lives today. Noise strongly affects our emotions, nervous systems, and physiology.

The problems stemming from nature-deficit disorder are examples of a mismatch between our genes and the modern environment. Our brains simply are not suited for the modern world. Possibly, the deterioration of emotional well-being characteristic of contemporary urban life represents a cumulative effect of lifestyle changes that have been occurring over many years, an effect that is now suddenly obvious.

Not only do we suffer from nature deficit, we are experiencing information surfeit. Many people today spend much of their waking time surfing the Internet, texting and talking on mobile phones, attending to email, watching television, and being stimulated by other new media—experiences never available until now. The allure of synthetic entertainment—television, the Internet—is eerily reminiscent of the false promise of industrial food. It seems like a distillation of the good aspects of a social life, always entertaining yet easy to abandon when it becomes tedious or challenging. But, like junk food, it is ultimately unsatisfying and potentially harmful. Our brains, genetically adapted to help us negotiate a successful course through complex, changing, and often hazardous natural environments, are suddenly confronted with an overload of information and stimulation independent of physical reality.

Lifestyle programs intended to relieve depression by correcting the mismatch between the modern world and our “ancient brains and bodies” recommend such interventions as increasing aerobic exercise, improving sleep, spending more time in the sun, eating more fish to boost intake of omega-3 fatty acids, socializing more, and not dwelling on negative thoughts. In addition, I recommend familiarity with interventions that have no analog in the hunter-gatherer world but are being shown by neuroscientists to help change our brains for the better.

To learn more about Dr. Weil’s new book and tips for happiness, check out these interviews.

Excerpted from the book Spontaneous Happiness by Andrew Weil, MD. Copyright © 2011 by Andrew Weil, MD. Reprinted with permission of Little, Brown and Company.

David J. Rothkopf is the author of the forthcoming “Power, Inc.: The Epic Rivalry Between Big Business and Government — and the Reckoning that Lies Ahead.”

HERE in America, we seem to be more interested in finishing first than we are in figuring out what race we ought to be in.

The refrain is insistent, from President Obama on down. He, like others in both parties, urges us on — to build or educate or invest or cut the deficit — so that “America can be No. 1 again.”

We want to be No. 1 — but why, and at what?

The size of our economy is one measure of success, but it’s not the only measure.

Isn’t the important question not how we remain No. 1 but rather, what we want to be best at — and even, whether we want to lead at all?

But we are Americans and we seem to think the rest of the world looks best when framed in our rear-view mirror.

We outstrip the world by many measures but lag, sometimes shockingly, in many others. The metrics by which we choose to measure our success determine our priorities. Yet, some of the metrics we rate as most important, like G.D.P., stock indices or trade data, are so deeply flawed as to be irrelevant or worse, dangerous distractions. And at the same time, countries that could hardly hope to outperform the world in any category are far ahead of us when it comes to things that matter more to people. Choosing metrics to measure our society is not a value-free process. As a country we have consistently relied on indicators that keep us focused on the interests of business, financial institutions or the defense industry whereas equity, quality of life and even social mobility metrics are played down.

Calculating national income is a relatively new concept. Previously, countries measured their economic well-being by tallying land holdings or counting railroad boxcars. But in the midst of the Great Depression, Congress, showing a great deal more intellectual curiosity than it does today, commissioned a group of economists led by a future Nobel Prize winner named Simon Kuznets to better measure economic activity.

Although Kuznets and his team fulfilled their mission, they released their results with considerable unease. Not only were they aware that the statistic they devised ignored many types of economic activity — from the work of housewives to illegal enterprises — they also knew their number did not assess the social benefits of what they were tracking.

Kuznets warned of this: “The welfare of a nation can, therefore, scarcely be inferred from a measurement of national income” like the one they created. That hasn’t stopped us from making this misleading number perhaps the most influential statistic in the world.

Americans use G.D.P. in discussions about how well we are doing. It’s at the heart of discussions of whether we are in a recession or not, ahead or falling behind.

Yet, when China “passes” us, it will remain for the most part a very poor country racked with social problems. And as we have seen, though the past decade was marked mostly by United States “growth,” recent Census data shows that since 1999, median American incomes have fallen more than 7 percent while the top 1 percent showed gains. Almost one in four American children live in poverty. We have a high level of unemployment compared to many of our peers.

THE G.D.P. number is not the only culprit, of course. Listening to the news, you might be forgiven if you thought that stock market performance was linked to reality. But markets are oceans of teeming emotions that make the average hormone-infused high school look calmly rational, and much of the “data” that moves markets is just bunk. Trade deficit numbers may be scary but they are also frighteningly flawed, doing a terrible job of accounting for trade in services, trade via the Internet, and inter-company trade, to pick just three among many problem areas.

Worse than the shortcomings of these statistics are the consequences of our over-dependence on them as measures of the success of our society. A country, for example, that overemphasizes G.D.P. growth and market performance is likely to focus policies on the big drivers of those — corporations and financial institutions — even when, as during the recent past, there has been little correlation between the performance of big businesses or elites and that of most people.

Furthermore, of course, the purpose of a society is not merely the creation of wealth, especially if most of it goes to the few. Even John Locke, who famously enumerated our fundamental rights as being to life, liberty and property, qualified this by asserting that people should appropriate only what they could use, leaving “enough and as good” for others. Thomas Jefferson later consciously replaced the right to property with a right to “the pursuit of happiness.” And happiness has become the watchword for those seeking different measures that might better guide governments.

According to the economist Carol Graham, the author of a recent book called “The Pursuit of Happiness: An Economy of Well-Being,” “happiness is, in the end, a much more complicated concept than income. Yet it is also a laudable and much more ambitious policy objective.” While she notes distinctions between approaches to happiness — with some societies more focused on goals like contentment and others on the creation of equal opportunities — she joins a growing chorus of leading thinkers who suggest the time has come to rethink how we measure our performance and how we set our goals.

This diverse group has included thinkers and public figures like President Nicolas Sarkozy of France, who established a commission in 2008 to address the issue that was co-led by the Nobel Prize-winning economist Joseph E. Stiglitz; the Columbia economist Jeffrey D. Sachs; the British prime minister, David Cameron; and the trail-blazing people of Bhutan, who since 1972 have set a goal of raising their gross national happiness.

Dr. Graham admits that it’s a challenge to set criteria for measuring happiness. However, in a conversation, she told me she did not see it as an insurmountable one: “It doesn’t have to be perfect; after all, it took us decades to agree upon what to include in G.D.P. and it is still far from a perfect metric.”

But for Americans, beyond choosing the right goals, there remains the issue of being No. 1. Many of us have lived our lives in a country that has thought itself the world’s most powerful and successful. But with the United States economy in a frustrating stall as China rises, it seems that period is coming to an end. We are suffering a national identity crisis, and politicians are competing with one another to win favor by assuring a return to old familiar ways.

This approach, too, is problematic. We, as a developed nation, are unlikely to grow at the rapid pace of emerging powers (the United States is currently ranked 127th in real G.D.P. growth rate). Europe and Japan, too, are grappling with the realities of being maturing societies.

But maturing societies can offer many benefits to their citizens that are unavailable to most in the rapidly growing world — the products of rich educational and cultural resources, capable institutions, stability and prosperity.

AS a consequence, countries that at different times in history were among the world’s great powers, such as Sweden, the Netherlands, France, Britain and Germany, have gradually shifted their sights, either in the wake of defeat or after protracted periods of grappling with decline, from winning the great power sweepstakes to topping lists of nations offering the best quality of life.

When Newsweek ranked the “world’s best countries” based on measures of health, education and politics, the United States ranked 11th. In the 2011 Quality of Life Index by Nation Ranking, the United States was 31st. Similarly, in recent rankings of the world’s most livable cities, the Economist Intelligence Unit has the top American entry at No. 29, Mercer’s Quality of Living Survey has the first United States entry at No. 31 and Monocle magazine showed only 3 United States cities in the top 25.

On each of these lists, the top performers were heavily concentrated in Northern Europe, Australia and Canada with strong showings in East Asian countries from Japan to Singapore. It is no accident that there is a heavy overlap between the top performing countries and those that also outperform the United States in terms of educational performance — acknowledging, of course, the mistake it would be to overemphasize any one factor in contributing to something as complex as overall quality of life. Nearly all the world’s quality-of-life leaders are also countries that spend more on infrastructure than the United States does. In addition, almost all are more environmentally conscious and offer more comprehensive social safety nets and national health care to their citizens.

That virtually all of the top performers place a much greater emphasis on government’s role in ensuring social well-being is also undeniable. But the politics of such distinctions aside, the focus of those governments on social outcomes — on policies that enhance contentment and security as well as enriching both human capabilities and opportunities — may be seen as yet another sign of maturity.

It is also worth noting that providing the basics to ensure a high quality of life is not a formula for excess or the kind of economic calamities befalling parts of Europe today. For example, many of the countries that top quality-of-life lists, like Sweden, Luxembourg, Denmark, the Netherlands and Norway, all rank high in lists of fiscally responsible nations — well ahead of the United States, which ranks 28th on the Sovereign Fiscal Responsibility Index.

What these societies have in common is that rather than striving to be the biggest they instead aspire to be constantly better. Which, in the end, offers an important antidote to both the rhetoric of decline and mindless boosterism: the recognition that whether we are falling behind or achieving new heights is greatly determined both by what goals we set and how we measure our performance.

Link to OPED and comments