The year was 1948. Only three years had passed since the Axis powers signed the instrument of surrender effectively ending the Second World War. Fifty nations had taken part in the conflict that saw genocide and the first use of nuclear weapons. An estimated 50 million lives were lost and another 19–28 million died in the aftermath from disease and famine.

Borders had been redrawn across Europe. The Nuremberg trials had concluded on the international stage but were still underway in U.S. military courts. The United Nations was still in its infancy. Expansions to the Geneva Convention to protect civilians during war were still a year away. The Cold War loomed on the horizon.

It was in this year that social psychologist Muzafer Sherif began sketching out his vision for an experiment that he hoped would get at the heart of intergroup conflict and demonstrate the means to resolve it. In a letter to his former Ph.D. advisor, Gardner Murphy, he laid out his idea: two groups of boys set in competition with one another while attending a summer camp. Using standard camp activities, Sherif would manufacture conflict between the groups and then set about uncovering the best means of restoring peace. The project would prove to be a landmark in psychology that continues to influence the field some 70 years later.

After two major world wars in the first half of the twentieth century, psychologists began asking themselves what they could offer to help stave off a third global encounter. After receiving an influx of European scientists who had experienced fascism firsthand, the field of social psychology in the United States in particular was primed to lead this new focus of research.

Muzafer Sherif was a Turkish émigré who found himself searching for a home in the immediate postwar years. He held master’s degrees from Istanbul University and Harvard University, and earned his Ph.D. in social psychology from Columbia University in 1935. After returning to Turkey following his doctoral studies, Sherif began to speak out against a growing fascist regime, lending his support to the Communist Party of Turkey. His support of communism led to his arrest, albeit briefly; he escaped longer imprisonment thanks only to his brother’s political connections and by agreeing to leave Turkey. This arrangement meant that in 1945, Sherif returned to the United States. After breaking Turkey’s law forbidding civil servants (including professors) from marrying a foreigner, by wedding an American woman, fellow psychologist Carolyn Wood Sherif, any thought of one day returning to his home country was permanently rescinded.

And so as the world grappled with the aftermath of global conflict, Muzafer Sherif searched for a new home in a country where he did not hold citizenship and where his political views would eventually draw the attention of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Although initially successful in finding a fellowship at Princeton University, Muzafer spent the better part of two years searching for opportunities for himself and for Carolyn, a search made all the more urgent by the arrival of the first of their three daughters. During the process, he was told that universities weren’t in the process of giving aid to foreign researchers. Eventually, with the help of colleagues, Sherif managed to secure a Rockefeller Research Fellowship at Yale University.

It was this fellowship that allowed him to pursue his vision of an experiment that he hoped could act as a microcosm for global relations. Working collaboratively with Carolyn, he led his colleagues (including Marvin B. Sussman, Robert Huntington, O. J. Harvey, B. Jack White, and William R. Hood) through a series of three camp studies between 1949 and 1954.

These camps saw 11- and 12-year-old boys establish tight-knit groups with self-appointed team names like the “Red Devils,” “Pythons,” and “Rattlers” enter into rivalries that descended into name calling, the destruction of the opposing group’s cabin, and even physical fights. Viewing the young campers as mirrors for larger global unrest, Sherif and his colleagues believed the camps offered the chance to understand conflict and, more importantly, develop and test ideas to help unravel it. The challenge became how to put the vision into action.

The Camps:

• 1949 Happy Valley Camp, Winsted, CT — Red Devils and Bulldogs
• 1953 Camp Talualac, Middle Grove, NY — Panthers and Pythons
• 1954 Camp Tom Hale, Robbers Cave State Park, Wilburton, OK — Eagles and Rattlers

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* * *

Part 2: Call to Adventure

Heavy blankets, pajamas, shorts, swim trunks, underwear, a softball glove—the items listed on the bulletin sent to campers sound like what might appear on any standard camp packing list. Parents were reminded to label everything they sent with their son and urged not to overpack. As a teaser, campers were told activities would include swimming, hiking, and overnight camping. For all intents and purposes, a typical summer camp.

The boys selected for each camp came from remarkably similar backgrounds: they were Protestant, white, from middle-class two-parent homes, average students, healthy, and well-adjusted. Most were 11 or 12 years old, and most had previous camp experience. This similarity was deliberate. Sherif wanted to control as many variables as he could in order to isolate the effects of the experiment; in some cases, his research team painstakingly interviewed the parents and teachers of potential campers and reviewed their school and medical records.

A key part of Sherif’s experiment involved observing the boys covertly. To pull off the ruse, the research team played the role of camp staff working alongside junior camp counselors. The researchers were told to avoid clothing with identifiable insignia that might reveal their relationship to the university and to record their observations privately, without conferring with other observers. All staff were instructed to not show any preference when the boys were discussing plans or solving problems. For his own role, Sherif chose to play the camp caretaker, alias Mr. Mussey, as a way to minimize the impact of his Turkish accent while still allowing him to remain close to the activity.

As they boarded the buses, the boys had no indication that their camp was a highly choreographed field study that would soon pit them against one another.

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Part 3: Road of Trials

The general design of all three camps was roughly the same: first, the boys were divided into two groups. In the first two camps, these groups were selected after the boys had formed friendships in order to purposefully split up friend groups, whereas in the third camp, the groups were preselected and the boys were initially unaware there was another group of campers. Through a series of team building activities—hikes, cookouts, overnight campouts, swimming—the groups bonded, spontaneously formed their own leadership structures, and created their own group culture.

The research team tried to stoke the rivalry between the two groups through a series of tournament style events, including baseball, tug-of-war, touch football, tent pitching, skits, songs, and cabin inspection; pocket knives were offered as prizes for the tournament winners.

The tournament succeeded in creating friction between the groups, friction which increased as the contest progressed. The boys began to trade taunts and insults; they also planned raids on the opposing cabin, turning over bunks and dumping personal possessions on the floor. In 1954, the Eagles stole and burned the flag of their rivals, the Rattlers; in retaliation the Rattlers stole a pair of jeans from the Eagles’ appointed leader and painted them with the words “The Last of the Eagles” in bright orange paint and then carried the jeans as a flag.

With animosity and overt aggression growing between the groups, the researchers turned their focus to the core of the experiment: bringing the groups back into a state of harmony. Sherif believed that resolving the conflict at the camps would provide valuable insight into the social and psychological process for how to secure peace between warring nations. The success of his vision hinged on this final stage—but resolving conflict would prove difficult to achieve.

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* * *

Part 4: Discoveries

For Sherif and his colleagues, having the boys develop an affinity for the members of their assigned group and then generating conflict between the groups was relatively straightforward. The conflict formed as planned at the first and third camps; at the second camp, the boys discovered the experimental setup as the conflict was building, so Sherif cut the study short. In the end, resolving the animosity between the groups was achieved in only the last of the three camps.

Initially, the researchers arranged a series of scenarios in which the rival groups were increasingly in contact—sharing the mess hall during meal time, attending a movie together. Not only did mere exposure to one another fail to relieve the tension, in some circumstances it exacerbated the name calling and arguments between the groups. At the first camp, researchers also challenged the groups to band together to compete against an external softball team, but even this “common enemy” was only temporarily successful in creating peace between the two groups, and created new conflict aimed at a third group.

It wasn’t until the researchers introduced at the 1954 camp a series of tasks with superordinate goals—problems that cannot be ignored but can only be resolved if the groups work together—that harmony rose. At that final camp, researchers arranged for the drinking water to fail, requiring the groups to team up to locate the problem with the water system. The boys shared tools and worked together across group lines, but the animosity returned when they later sat for a meal together. Researchers continued to introduce similar superordinate goals. For example, the two groups had to band together to pull-start a stalled truck that contained their meals. They were also challenged to come up with a solution that would allow them to see a movie after it was announced the camp did not have enough funds to cover the movie fee. After coming together to bring water, food, and even a movie to the camp, the lines that had been drawn between groups began to fade.

With the final of the three camps concluded and most of the boys making friends within the opposing group, Sherif and his colleagues believed they had achieved success. But would figuring out how to reduce conflict at a summer camp have an impact in the wider world?

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Part 5: Mastering Two Worlds

“The world leaders should heed the lesson of the experiment.” Muzafer Sherif did not mince words when he shared a summary of the camp studies with the public in 1969 within the pages of The Washington Post. But this was 15 years after the final camp, and it was one of only a small handful of articles authored by Sherif in the popular press.

When he did speak of the camps, Sherif merged the three in his summaries and focused primarily on the 1954 results—the only camp in which they reached the final stage and conflict was resolved. He also made clear how he interpreted the actions of the boys: the vandalism of the cabin of the opposing group was a “raid” while the collection of apples was the “stockpiling of ammunition.” From Sherif’s perspective, these were not merely summer camps but also a mirror for the rising tensions between nations.

The camp studies, or the 1954 camp to be exact, became the best-known demonstration of realistic group conflict theory—a model of intergroup conflict in social psychology. It may be the novelty of the approach alone that resulted in the popularity of the experiment; Sherif and his colleagues were not particularly active advocates. Aside from a handful of academic articles and presentations, the team only published the results of the 1954 Robbers Cave study initially as a technical report that was distributed privately to colleagues. The full book version was not published until 1961, and then with a small publisher at the University of Oklahoma. The study results would not see larger distribution until the text was republished in 1988.

In classic researcher style, Sherif took less interest in communicating the meaning of his research for the real-world to others and instead focused his time expanding on the lessons learned within the camp studies, investigating intergroup conflict—and group dynamics more generally—in new settings with expanded participant pools.

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Part 6: Reflections

Summer camp was not the final scene of Muzafer and Carolyn Wood Sherif’s research into group behavior. They brought their observational work to other settings, diversifying their participant groups in terms of age, gender, and race. While intergroup conflict remained core to their collaborative work program, the Sherifs expanded their focus to include other elements of a group’s dynamics, like conformity to and deviation from group norms, and the hierarchy of relationships among members.

In 1966, the Sherifs moved from Oklahoma, where they had been since 1949, to Pennsylvania State University. Muzafer took his interdisciplinary methods into the sociology department, while Carolyn increasingly shifted her research toward the psychology of gender, becoming a founding member of the Society for the Psychology of Women (Division 35 of the American Psychological Association).

Throughout their careers, Muzafer and Carolyn wrote extensively about their research on groups, jointly publishing nine books in addition to their own respective works. But their names would become inextricably entwined with the 1954 Robbers Cave camp, their larger research program overshadowed. And as psychologists have looked back on psychology’s classic studies, the Sherifs’ legacy has found itself at the center of renewed controversy.

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Part 7: Re-visions

Similar to other well-known social psychology studies of the mid–twentieth century—such as Stanley Milgram’s “shock box” obedience experiments—Sherif conceived the camp studies as a direct response to the Second World War and other global conflicts. Social psychologists of the postwar era struggled to make sense of the horrors of the Holocaust by researching human conformity, obedience to authority, and intergroup relations.

Today, the camp studies are remembered as classic examples of the field study method, as well as for their overarching examination of intergroup relations. Echoing how the results were published, people generally focus on the 1954 camp at Robbers Cave State Park, and mention the 1949 and 1953 camps in passing, if at all. Those reporting on the studies typically assign Muzafer Sherif (and occasionally Carolyn Wood Sherif) sole credit, overlooking his many collaborators across the three camps.

But in more recent years, serious questions have been raised about the ethics of these postwar researchers, particularly their collective decision to conceal from participants the true purpose of their research. Contemporary reviews of the camp studies regularly invoke William Golding’s book Lord of the Flies (coincidentally published the same year as the Robbers Cave camp), although unlike in the book, the conflict between groups was artificially and purposefully created by Sherif and his team, rather than having emerged naturally. Central to the criticism are questions of the transparency of the original research reports.

Gina Perry’s 2018 book The Lost Boys has perhaps ignited the heaviest round of concern as she revealed in a series of interviews with former campers that not only were they unaware that their camp days had been part of psychological research but also that several of the boys attributed some enduring discomfort to the memories of the experience. Deceiving the boys about the true nature of their camp had never been secret; Sherif and his colleagues believed it was essential that the boys be unaware that the camp was anything but a regular summer camp. This point was emphasized in planning documents, instructions to observers and camp counselors, and in communications with parents. But the boys were never debriefed, instead learning of the deception when Perry approached them for interviews, just over half a century later.

For their part, parents knew from the beginning that they were sending their children to an atypical summer camp. Consent forms, informational letters, and in-person information sessions explained that the camp was being run for the purposes of research. The true purpose of that research and what the study would entail were less clear. Researchers told parents that the camp would provide a “wholesome cooperative living experience” that would “prepare the youngsters for better citizenship and to be leaders in their communities.” There was never mention of purposefully engineering conflict with other campers, nor the overarching search for a solution to global conflict.

Perhaps more striking among concerns of the transparency surrounding the camp studies is that a careful reading of Sherif’s original footnotes by Frances Cherry in 1995 re-exposed why the second camp in 1953 had been called off. In his own writing, Sherif initially acknowledged that the study had been cut short after the boys discovered the experimental ruse. In later accounts, Sherif changed how he framed the 1953 study, citing “unfavorable conditions” and “errors in judgment” on the part of the researchers for its early conclusion, and obscuring that the cleverness of his young subjects was the real reason why the two groups of campers never completed the conflict stage.

Critics have also raised additional questions concerning the way the researchers merged results of the three studies. Psychology students have often been introduced to the studies through confident statements about the dynamics of group formation, intergroup conflict, and how working toward a common goal can bring peaceful resolution—but these are the results only of the 1954 Robbers Cave camp. In 1949, the groups failed to resolve their conflict; in 1953, the study was cut short. Much like in the real world, conflict in an experiment proved to be complex, an important nuance that receives little attention amid the work’s greater legacy.

In spite of the criticisms, it cannot be said that Sherif shied away from trying to put his work to use for a greater good. With the outbreak of the Korean and Vietnam wars on the heels of the Second World War and the growing threat of the Cold War, the Sherifs’ work was a direct attempt to resolve the problems consuming the world. Carolyn herself reflected that it should be no surprise that a Turkish psychologist who witnessed the atrocities of war firsthand as the Ottoman Empire fell in his youth only to find himself exiled from his homeland after marrying an American should come to study global conflict.

In his notes and publications, Muzafer was cautious to never lay blame on individuals for global hostilities, instead focusing on groups—nations, governments—that he spent his career seeking to understand through the observation of group dynamics among children and adolescents. To pave the path to harmony, he called for a world organization with the power to hold even the strongest nations accountable. Today, the question remains as to whether a new generation of social scientists will take up the optimism and ambition of the Sherifs’ vision and bring new solutions to the world stage.

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The author thanks Lizette Royer Barton and Heather Graci for their research assistance.

Select References

• Muzafer and Carolyn Wood Sherif papers. Drs. Nicholas and Dorothy Cummings Center for the History of Psychology, The University of Akron, Akron, OH.
• Sherif, M., Harvey, O. J., White, B. J., Hood, W. R., & Sherif, C. W. (1961). Intergroup conflict and cooperation: The Robbers Cave experiment. Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Book Exchange.
• Perry, G. (2018). The Lost Boys: Inside Muzafer Sherif’s Robbers Cave Experiment. Victoria, Australia: Scribe.
• Cherry, F. E. (1995). The ‘stubborn particulars’ of social psychology: Essays on the research process. New York, NY: Routledge.

The post Journey to Robbers Cave appeared first on Behavioral Scientist.

For your intellectual travels this summer, we’ve curated a baker’s dozen of behavioral science books newly published this year. Explore the mysteries of life and consciousness, glimpse the power of constraints and the games that define our lives, navigate life’s cliffs, and find the places that will make you who you are.

— Heather Graci, Editor and Evan Nesterak, Editor-in-Chief

Exploring life, death, and consciousness

“Life begins, with a spark of sentience catalyzed by chemistry and chance, and then it ends, with death,” writes Maria Popova. “The great mystery is not the fable of what lies beyond. The great mystery is what we make of the wilderness between the bookends…”

These two books are a foray into that wilderness. Popova weaves together the tales of people who have attempted to answer questions of life, death, and personhood the best way they knew how—some by discovering the structure of penicillin or tracing the path of Venus, others by writing poetry, and still others by sailing across the ocean. 

Michael Pollan confronts the “improbable fact—the miracle!—that in this universe of rock and fire and ice and infinite space, we are somehow not only here but aware.” How are we conscious? Why are we conscious? And where else does consciousness exist?

Popova and Pollan will make you feel at once bigger and smaller—bigger for having grappled with questions that have endured for millenia, and smaller for realizing the limits of what we might ever hope to answer.

Traversal
By Maria Popova

From the back cover: “What is life? What is death? What makes a body a person? What makes a planet a world? In Traversal, Maria Popova illuminates our various instruments of reckoning with the bewilderment of being alive—our telescopes and our treatises, our postulates and our poems—through the intertwined lives, loves, and legacies of visionaries both celebrated and sidelined by history, people born into the margins of their time and place who lived to write the future.”

A World Appears: A Journey Into Consciousness
By Michael Pollan

From the back cover: “When it comes to the phenomenon that is consciousness, there is one point on which scientists, philosophers, and artists all agree: that it feels like something to be us. Yet the fact we have subjective experience of the world remains one of nature’s greatest mysteries. How is it that our mental operations are accompanied by feelings, thoughts, and a sense of self? What would a scientific investigation of our inner life look like, considering we have as little distance and perspective on it as fish do of the sea?”

* * *

A journalist, a philosopher, and a cognitive scientist think about thinking

What makes some constraints stifling and others catalysts for discovery? Why is scoring points energizing in games but soul-deadening in life and work? Where can we use math to model human intelligence, and where does it fall short?

Three new books offer a chance to think deeper about your own thinking. Journalist David Epstein reveals how constraints can propel our thinking. Philosopher C. Thi Nguyen uncovers the games that exist beneath the surface of society; games you’re playing whether you know it or not. Cognitive scientist Tom Griffiths explains how understanding the aspects of human thinking that are likely to remain elusive to AI can change the way we see ourselves and help us appreciate the cognitive mysteries that set us apart.

Inside the Box: How Constraints Make Us Better
By David Epstein

From the back cover: “We live in a world that gives us seemingly infinite choices and prizes freedom above all else. We have an unprecedented number of options regarding what to do, who to be, and how to spend our time. All that choice is wonderful; it is also overwhelming. The irony is that total freedom can be paralyzing, and unlimited resources don’t necessarily lead to the biggest breakthroughs. In fact, overvaluing complete freedom can be disastrous for everything from starting a company to harnessing creativity to finding personal satisfaction. David Epstein argues that all of us—individuals, businesses, institutions, even societies—can benefit from narrowing our options.”

The Score: How to Stop Playing Somebody Else's Game
By C. Thi Nguyen

From the back cover: “Games are the most important art form of our era. They embody the spirit of free play. They show us the subtle beauty of action everywhere in life in video games, sports, and boardgames—but also cooking, gardening, fly-fishing, and running. They remind us that it isn’t always about outcomes, but about how glorious it feels to be doing the thing. And the scoring systems help get us there, by giving us new goals to try on. Scoring systems are also at the center of our corporations and bureaucracies—in the form of metrics and rankings. They tell us exactly how to measure our success. They encourage us to outsource our values to an external authority. And they push on us to value simple, countable things. Metrics don’t capture what really matters; they only capture what’s easy to measure. The price of that clarity is our independence.”

The Laws of Thought: The Quest for a Mathematical Theory of the Mind
By Tom Griffiths

From the back cover: “Everyone has a basic understanding of how the physical world works. We learn about physics and chemistry in school, letting us explain the world around us in terms of concepts like force, acceleration, and gravity—the Laws of Nature. But we don’t have the same fluency with concepts needed to understand the world inside us—the Laws of Thought. While the story of how mathematics has been used to reveal the mysteries of the universe is familiar, the story of how it has been used to study the mind is not.”

* * *

Bringing data to a gunfight

Economists Alvin Roth and Jennifer Doleac share the conviction that using a data-driven approach to answer moral questions is itself a matter of morality. 

In Moral Economics, Nobel-winner Roth shows how conceptualizing divisive social issues like drugs, abortion, and organ donation as markets can expose new ways to make progress in contexts where both sides refuse to compromise. And in The Science of Second Chances, Jennifer Doleac illuminates how many criminal justice policies—no matter how well-meaning—are far from just. But she also shows that where our intuition fails, science can succeed in helping us build a system that leaves everyone better off.

In Doleac’s words: “I see a lack of rigor as unethical. Policies that don’t work don’t help people. If we are serious about improving lives, we need to test our policies carefully to ensure they’re effective.”

Moral Economics: From Prostitution to Organ Sales, What Controversial Transactions Reveal About How Markets Work
By Alvin E. Roth

From the back cover: “Some of the most intractable controversies in our divided society are, at bottom, about what actions and transactions should be banned. . . . Disagreements are fierce because arguments on both sides are often made in uncompromising moral or religious terms. But in Moral Economics, Nobel Prize–winning economist Alvin E. Roth asserts that we can make progress on these and other difficult topics if we view them as markets—tools to help decide who gets what—and understand how those markets can be fine-tuned to be more functional. Markets don’t have to allow everything or ban everything. Prudent market design can find a balance between preserving people’s rights to pursue their own interests and protecting the most vulnerable from harm.”

The Science of Second Chances: A Revolution in Criminal Justice
By Jennifer Doleac

From the back cover: “When criminal justice expert Jennifer Doleac thinks about reform, she’s not just hopeful, she’s optimistic that second chances are possible—for the justice-involved population and the system as a whole. In The Science of Second Chances, she reveals her powerful approach to reducing crime and incarceration. Drawing on cutting-edge economic research and real-world experiments, the book presents a blueprint for reform that runs all the way through the system . . . From DNA databases that increase the likelihood of catching reoffenders to leniency programs for first-time defendants, she reveals a series of surprising interventions that actually work, along with cautionary tales about great ideas that never panned out.”

Read an excerpt from The Science of Second Chances in Behavioral Scientist: “It’s as if they’re standing at a fork in the road, considering what to do next. One direction leads toward more criminal behavior and criminal justice involvement, and the other leads toward a productive, law-abiding life. It turns out that many first-time defendants will choose the better path if we simply get out of their way.”

Three social psychologists on being social

The season of barbecues and beach vacations is upon us. That means spending more time with people—some you might know and love, some you might not know and love yet, and some, well, let’s just say it’s complicated. 

Three social psychologists offer insights into our relationships with others. Nicholas Epley illuminates why fundamentally social creatures like us so often choose to keep to ourselves and offers advice for how to overcome the misplaced pessimism that keeps us from saying, “Hello.” Gillian Sandstrom recounts the science behind talking to strangers and shares how her own life grew brighter and richer when she did. And finally, Julia Minson confronts one of the scenarios that keep many of us away from others—disagreement—and shows why we don’t need to feel so daunted by the possibility that we might not see eye to eye with someone.

A Little More Social: How Small Choices Create Unexpected Happiness, Health, and Connection
By Nicholas Epley

From the back cover: “There is a paradox at the core of human life. We are a highly social species uniquely equipped to connect with other people and doing so is better for us. Yet we so often choose to be unsocial. We avoid talking to the stranger who sits next to us. We struggle to move beyond small talk with an acquaintance. We are reluctant to express our gratitude to people we appreciate. Every day, we avoid opportunities to connect with strangers, neighbors, colleagues, friends, and family. By missing those moments, we miss out on all the benefits of a more social life—one that is happier and healthier for everyone.”

Once Upon a Stranger: The Science of How “Small” Talk Can Add Up to a Big Life
By Gillian Sandstrom

From the back cover: “Dr. Gillian Sandstrom reveals that by talking to strangers, we can unlock more joy, curiosity, and goodwill every day. In an age when loneliness is a social health crisis and harmful behaviors like groupthink increase our perception of distance and polarization, this transformational guide explains the benefits of stretching our perceived limits and connecting with our fellow humans.”

How to Disagree Better
By Julia Minson

From the back cover: “We are in a disagreement crisis. The average person would rather go to the dentist than have a twenty-minute conversation with someone that they strongly disagree with. Yet disagreement is both inevitable and essential for everything from navigating decisions at home to running innovative and agile companies to governing democratic societies.”

* * *

The places that make you who you are

Summer is a time when we’re on the move—to places we’ve never been and to places we’ve been again and again. Engineer and behavioral scientist Leidy Klotz asks: How do places shape us? And how can we shape the places that shape us?

In a Good Place: How the Spaces Where We Live, Work, and Play Can Help Us Thrive
By Leidy Klotz

From the back cover: “So many books address how to live a good life. This one is about where. Immersing readers in locations from beach huts to modern office layouts, from the backyard where we once played to the college dorm where we forged lifelong bonds, behavioral scientist Leidy Klotz illuminates how our physical environment determines our habits, our relationships, and even who we are.”

* * *

Navigating life’s cliffs

How should we understand the experiences that change the trajectory of our lives—the end of a career, an unthinkable diagnosis, love found, or love lost? Who are we before these great upheavals, and who do we become afterward?

Author Jim Collins calls these experiences “cliffs,” which require people to “reconstitute their lives and reenvision the years to come.” He spent 10 years identifying pairs of people throughout history who faced similar cliffs and considering how their paths diverged, or didn’t, in their aftermath. 

Cognitive scientist Maya Shankar explores change in a different way. After years of conversations with people who have confronted a major change in their life, she brings together their stories to show how people rebuild their lives on “the other side of change.” 

“The odds any of us will complete a life without cliffs are close to zero. Some cliffs are bigger than others, but life is punctuated by cliffs,” writes Collins. “Cliffs are us.”

What to Make of a Life: Cliffs, Fog, Fire and the Self-Knowledge Imperative
By Jim Collins

From the back cover: “Two rock musicians confronting a future without the group that had brought them success. Two public figures tainted by scandal having to make decisions about how to rebuild their lives. Two suffragists achieving their epic goal and so left with the puzzle of what to do next. Two figure skaters seeking new purpose when their Olympic careers come to an end. What emerges from Collins’s extensive studies—of writers, actors, scientists, leaders and many others—is a framework for understanding how individual lives can be built, sustained and constantly renewed.”

The Other Side of Change: Who We Become When Life Makes Other Plans
By Maya Shankar

From the back cover: “Shankar invites us to rethink our relationship with change altogether. When a big change happens to us, it can lead to profound change within us. The unique stresses and demands of being thrust into a new reality can lead us to uncover new abilities, perspectives, and values, transforming us in extraordinary ways. What if we saw moments of upheaval as an opportunity to reimagine who we can be, rather than as something to just endure?”

* * *

And four books to keep an eye out for this fall

Agency: The Psychological History of Human Progress (September 8)
By Martin Seligman

From the back cover: “What actually drives human progress? Ecologists point to geography and climate. Sociologists invoke wars and class. Economists follow the money. But none of these accounts explains why innovation and human thriving occurs in some eras and stalls in others—often under identical material conditions. The missing variable, Seligman argues, is the psychological state known as: agency. . . Drawing on six decades of pioneering research and a sweeping reexamination of the last twenty-five hundred years . . . Seligman reveals how surges and declines in agency have quietly steered the course of history.”

Artificial Intimacy: Who We Become When We Talk to Machines
(September 29)
By Sherry Turkle

From the back cover: “Artificial Intimacy is unique in how it traces our new habit of talking to machines through the lifecycle—from children’s earliest attachments to how we face death. But technology, by offering to do everything, teaches us that we neither need nor have the capacity to take risks, have hard conversations, struggle through uncertainty or insecurity, or rely on our own faculties and judgment. Turkle has spent decades studying how digital technologies isolate us from one another. Now, in her long-awaited follow-up to Reclaiming Conversation, she offers both a cautionary tale and a roadmap for reclaiming our humanity in the age of AI.”

Profits, Prophets, Coaches and Kings: (When) Do Leaders Matter?
(September 1)
By Jared Diamond

From the back cover: “We often read history as the biographies of ‘great men’ who shaped the world. But are leaders, whichever field they are in, really that influential? . . . Historian and bestselling author Jared Diamond argues that leaders are neither heroic exceptions nor products of circumstance. Looking at four different spheres: history, business, sport, and religion, Diamond asks under which conditions is a leader most likely to make a difference and why.”

Situated: Find the People and Places That Bring Out Your Best (September 1)
By Angela Duckworth

From the back cover: “How you situate yourself to meet a challenge can be crucial. Duckworth’s in-depth research reveals the enormous influence wielded by the objects within arm’s reach, your peers and mentors, and even your zip code. Though you’re often told to make the best of your situation, it is far, far better to make your situation better first.”

Disclosure: Evan Nesterak worked as an editorial consultant on In a Good Place. Heather Graci worked as an editorial consultant on Situated. Maya Shankar serves as an advisor to Behavioral Scientist. Advisors do not play a role in the editorial decisions of the magazine.

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The post Behavioral Scientist’s Summer Book List 2026 appeared first on Behavioral Scientist.

Sequencing departures like a moving puzzle, scrambling when a jet takes off without clearance, and catching what radar misses with a glance out the window with Michael Rejent, an air traffic controller. What does "tally ho" mean to a pilot? What phrase makes every controller in the cab look up?

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About What It's Like to Be...
In each episode of What It's Like to Be..., bestselling author Dan Heath speaks with someone about what it's like to walk in their (work) shoes. Behavioral Scientist serves as a distribution partner with episodes released every other week. Learn more about the podcast's mission of "slow curiosity" here, and head here to get Dan's reflections on how the mission is going after a year of conversations.

The “Air Traffic Controller” episode of What It’s Like To Be… featured Michael Rejent. It was produced and edited by Matt Purdy. Copyright © 2026 by Dan Heath. All rights reserved.

The post What It’s Like to Be…an Air Traffic Controller appeared first on Behavioral Scientist.

Hugging a mother through an anxiety attack, bidding for the best routes, and absorbing strangers' confessions at 35,000 feet with Linda Beall, a flight attendant. What does it mean when the cabin bells ring three or four times? And what makes a trip a “dog”?

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View the episode transcript

About What It's Like to Be...
In each episode of What It's Like to Be..., bestselling author Dan Heath speaks with someone about what it's like to walk in their (work) shoes. Behavioral Scientist serves as a distribution partner with episodes released every other week. Learn more about the podcast's mission of "slow curiosity" here, and head here to get Dan's reflections on how the mission is going after a year of conversations.

The “Flight Attendant” episode of What It’s Like To Be… featured Linda Beall. It was produced and edited by Matt Purdy. Copyright © 2026 by Dan Heath. All rights reserved.

The post What It’s Like to Be…a Flight Attendant appeared first on Behavioral Scientist.

For Sonja, researching happiness means being asked over and over again, “What is the secret to happiness?” Sonja has always dreaded that question. It’s ridiculous, it’s reductive, and it’s restrictive. But mostly she has dreaded it because she has never had a solid, science-based answer that she could offer with any confidence.

There is no secret to happiness. But there are huge contributors to happiness, and some of them are more powerful than others. Sonja resists being pinned down to just one. But if she were pressed to give an answer, she now has one.

She found it when she met Harry, who studies the science of relationships. She mentioned the dreaded question, and he replied, “I don’t know the secret to happiness either, but I do know people who are happy, and I know people who are unhappy, and I can tell you the main difference between them: Happy people feel loved.” 

The secret to happiness is feeling loved. 

Harry also said, “Isn’t it odd that happiness researchers and relationship researchers don’t talk with each other?” 

* * *

For the next seven years, we decided to talk to each other. Together, we explored the science of happiness and relationships, the advice we give about both, and how we can all feel more loved. 

When we asked a representative sample of nearly two thousand American adults what they do to feel more loved, we were struck by how many seemed to find the question difficult to answer. Some weren’t sure what steps to take, while others felt that love was something that either happened or didn’t—something beyond their control. 

Why does feeling loved feel elusive for so many people? 

We’ve found that the challenge often isn’t a lack of love or inability to love but rather the beliefs we hold about how love works. 

Many of us instinctively follow certain ideas about what will make us feel valued, cherished, and secure in our relationships. We tell ourselves “if only” stories about love that seem entirely reasonable at first—stories that fit with what we’ve learned over the years, and that resonate with our hopes, fears, and intuitions. But when we examine these stories more closely, we sometimes find that they don’t hold up.

Here are five of the most common misconceptions about feeling loved:

• If only I were more attractive, powerful, or successful, I would feel more loved.
• If only I could make sure others knew my positive qualities and successes, I would feel more loved.
• If only I could hide my shortcomings, I would feel more loved.
• If only my partner would speak my love language, I would feel more loved.
• If only I could get my partner to love me more, I would feel more loved.

You’ll likely recognize some of these from your own experiences. Our goal isn’t to dismiss these beliefs outright but rather to explore what the science says about them and whether they’re truly helping you feel as loved as you want to be. If not, we’ll consider what you might do differently. 

One common thread running through many of these if-only beliefs is that, when we adopt them, we end up emphasizing our superficial selves—our image, career, and possessions—at the expense of our deeper selves—our values, personality, and quirks. But it’s our deeper selves for which we want to be loved. This raises a question we’ll encounter again and again as we interrogate these beliefs: How can we feel loved if we aren’t known?

If-only belief #1: If only I were more attractive, powerful, or successful, I would feel more loved

Many of us have felt, at one point or another, that success, beauty, and status would make us feel more loved. It’s understandable—our culture constantly reinforces the idea that being admired will translate into feeling cherished. If you were wealthier, sexier, or had more renown, wouldn’t the people in your life appreciate you more? Wouldn’t you feel happier and more loved? Yet research—and the lived experiences of many—suggests that this belief doesn’t always hold up.

Through media, social norms, and the stories people tell each other, Western culture incessantly teaches that the secret to feeling loved is having more—more money, more beauty, more power, more success. The modern dating landscape reflects this: Take a quick scroll through dating-app profiles or social media and you’ll see references to LMS (looks-money-status) as prized qualities. Many people, including us, at some point, have chased after things like A-list status, beauty, or success, hoping they would bring the best possible life. People strive to be influencers or to make as much money as possible to buy the latest tech, luxury vacations, or the hottest DJs for their parties. Others seek these qualities in their mates—one acquaintance of ours insisted on only dating men with the “four sixes”—six figures (salary), six-pack (abs), six feet (height), and six inches (for sex). She’s still looking.

This instinct to optimize themselves—or seek the most “desirable” partner—is completely natural. But does achieving wealth, power, fame, or physical perfection actually lead to feeling loved? Research suggests that while these things may bring attention and celebration, they don’t necessarily translate into feelings of being truly valued and known. Why, then, do people chase these goals? Although many tell themselves that they’re doing it purely for their own fulfillment, deep down, they likely pursue them in hope of being seen as more appealing—more worthy of love. Indeed, “Significance-Quest Theory,” published in 2022, states that humans have a drive or “quest” for significance, sometimes manifested in good works or humanitarian endeavors, but at other times reflected in efforts to bolster their sense of worth by attracting socially desirable “trophy” partners.

Consider Madame Bovary, the iconic character from Gustave Flaubert’s nineteenth-century novel. She hopes that having a child will bring the fulfillment she craves, only to realize that no external source—whether a child, a lover, or social status—can fill that void. While her story is fictional, it reflects a timeless human experience: Looking outside oneself for validation often leaves people feeling empty.

How can you feel truly loved if the version of you being loved isn’t you?

One reason that striving for extrinsic goals doesn’t usually lead to feeling loved is that people want to be loved for who they are rather than what they have—for their compassion, integrity, willingness to work hard, sense of humor, and so on, and not for “surface” characteristics, such as money, popularity, fame, and beauty. Emphasizing your extrinsic virtues creates what social psychologists call attributional ambiguity—the unsettling doubt about whether others love you for the “right” reasons. For example, a beautiful person who has always received compliments on their looks might secretly fear that their desirability is the only reason people are drawn to them, rather than their kindness or character.

A classic experiment conducted at the University at Buffalo illustrated this phenomenon. Highly attractive women wrote an essay and then received praise from a hidden male evaluator. When the women believed that the evaluator couldn’t see them, they took the praise to heart. But when they thought that the evaluator had seen them, they were more likely to dismiss the praise—believing it was based on their looks rather than their writing skills. The same pattern emerged for highly attractive men.

A similar dynamic plays out in relationships. Someone who is admired for their wealth or beauty may quietly wonder, Do they love me for who I am—or for what I have? And would they still love me if I lost my money or my looks as I grew older? This uncertainty can undermine trust, making it harder to feel truly loved. Perhaps this helps explain why celebrities and the ultrawealthy are often skeptical when they receive love and admiration from others. When you’re unsure whether others appreciate you for who you are rather than what you bring to the table, that attributional ambiguity can erode relationship trust.

Another reason chasing extrinsic goals can be unfulfilling is known as the “hedonic treadmill”—the tendency for achievements to bring only a temporary spell of satisfaction before again feeling the pressure to accumulate more. Instead, such striving seems to never satiate, thus rendering a person ever more dissatisfied and lonelier. To paraphrase an oft-quoted commencement speech by the American writer George Saunders, the problem with succeeding is that the need to do so constantly renews itself—like a mountain that keeps growing ahead of you as you climb it.

Research shows that pursuing extrinsic goals—such as wealth and status—undermines, rather than bolsters, feelings of happiness and connection. In one longitudinal study of 12,894 U.S. undergraduates, those who, during college, rated being very well off financially as “essential” or “very important” were less satisfied with their lives two decades later compared to those who had placed less importance on wealth. (Notably, only respondents who ultimately achieved very high annual incomes—more than half a million in 2020s dollars—didn’t show this effect.) Similarly, anecdotal evidence from megalottery winners suggests that sudden wealth doesn’t always lead to greater happiness; in some cases, it creates distance and disconnection, as newfound riches make it harder to trust the intentions of friends and loved ones. 

So what does lead to feeling loved? If external markers of success won’t secure your feeling loved, what will? Research suggests an alternative approach—to focus on intrinsic goals rather than extrinsic ones. Intrinsic goals center on:

• Personal growth—learning a new language, exploring a creative passion, spending time in nature or in spiritual reflection
• Connecting to close others and community—reaching out to friends; being a joiner, not a watcher
• Contributing your time, energy, and money—caring for a sick friend, mentoring someone, volunteering for a cause

These activities are ones in which, as Arthur Brooks has said, you “cultivate your roots rather than shine your leaves.” Not only will they improve happiness, belonging, and self-worth, they will make you a psychologically “richer” person—more well-rounded, more interesting, and with almost infinite fuel and fodder for conversation and connection.

If-only belief #2: If only I could make sure others knew my positive qualities and successes, I would feel more loved

Many people have worked hard to achieve success—whether in their careers, social lives, or personal growth. And it’s true that success can contribute to happiness, at least for a while. For example, happier people earn more and are better liked. But when it comes to feeling loved, there’s a common instinct that can lead people astray. It’s the belief that feeling loved comes from making sure other people recognize your strengths, talents, or successes: If only they knew. This belief may seem logical, but research suggests it doesn’t quite work that way.

We live in a culture that celebrates visibility. Society lionizes confident, charismatic individuals who openly showcase their accomplishments—CEOs, influencers, entertainers, and top athletes. Social media has amplified this tendency, encouraging people to highlight their best moments and craft an image of success. Given this cultural backdrop, it makes sense that many people feel the need to broadcast their strengths—whether through direct boasting or carefully curated social-media updates. But, as you already know from if-only belief #1, there’s a catch: While people may admire you for your achievements, admiration doesn’t lead to feeling loved.

Let’s consider the costs of digital self-presentation. Digital tools can sustain long-distance relationships, introduce you to communities you might never have found otherwise, and give you opportunities to express your positive qualities and achievements. But at the same time, they can also subtly reshape the way people interact—sometimes in ways that leave them feeling less, rather than more, connected.

One of the most profound shifts in social life over the past two decades is the emphasis on accumulating “followers” on screens rather than deepening friendships in real life. It’s easier than ever to present a curated version of yourself—one that highlights your best moments, your most flattering angles, your biggest wins. And while there’s nothing inherently wrong with wanting to put your best foot forward, the unintended consequence is that many people find themselves performing connection rather than experiencing it.

Consider a moment from Sonja’s travels: One day, she found herself waiting an hour for a delayed flight in a crowded airport-gate area. Sitting next to her was a striking young woman with long black hair, and Sonja couldn’t help but watch with fascination as the woman spent the entire hour meticulously taking selfies, carefully editing and retouching each one before taking more, and finally posting the best results on Instagram. Was she hoping for a certain number of likes, to get attention from someone special, or did she believe that a particular beautiful photo would win her love?

The impulse to showcase one’s life online is often driven by a natural desire to be seen, appreciated, and valued. But being noticed isn’t the same as being known. A carefully crafted showreel might impress others, but it doesn’t foster the kind of deep, reciprocal understanding that makes people feel truly loved. Furthermore, research suggests that focusing too much on how you’re perceived—on making a good impression—can actually make you feel less connected.

The impulse to showcase one’s life online is often driven by a natural desire to be seen, appreciated, and valued. But being noticed isn’t the same as being known.

At first glance, the ability to craft and control how one appears to others seems like a good thing. After all, why wouldn’t you want to present the most polished version of yourself? For example, when it comes to people outside your inner circle, displaying your strengths, triumphs, and best qualities can certainly make an impression—it may open doors, attract dates, or even command respect. And in some ways, that’s completely natural—first impressions matter, and everyone wants to highlight their best qualities. But when self-presentation takes priority over expressing what lies beneath the surface, one loses opportunities to truly know and be known to others.

Consider several familiar rituals of modern life:

• Carefully tweaking a dating profile to appear more appealing (perhaps even stretching the truth)
• Exchanging quick, surface-level text messages or engaging in small talk instead of meaningful conversations
• Collecting likes that momentarily boost confidence but rarely lead to deeper connection
• Humblebragging, or boasting masked by a complaint or false humility—e.g., “It’s exhausting being the only person my boss trusts with our big client.” (Studies show that this more subtle approach renders people less likable, not more.)

Each of these behaviors is understandable, even instinctive in a world where visibility feels like social currency. But when people focus too much on how they appear to others, they risk missing out on the richness of real, unfiltered connection and end up feeling unseen. Also, at the same time that broadcasting strengths may inspire admiration, they may breed comparison, envy, and even resentment—pushing people away rather than drawing them in. Once again: You cannot feel loved if you’re not known. Indeed, you cannot even feel fully satisfied with your accomplishments—there’s always someone more beautiful, wealthy, or successful.

Recently, Sonja was hiking with a group of friends when one couple pushed back on this idea. “What’s wrong with being proud of our accomplishments? People prefer winners to losers, stars over nobodies! Our friends and partners and acquaintances should be happy for us!” In some ways, they’re right. Your successes—and the hard journey to achieve them—deserve recognition. The people who care about you want to see you thrive. They may even bask in your reflected glory, celebrating alongside you. But when it comes to sharing those accomplishments, the key is balance.

Talking about your successes in the right context—with the right people, at the right time—can deepen connections. When successes are related naturally—without an agenda to impress or obtain approval—others share in your joy, and your connection with them is deepened. But when success becomes something you broadcast rather than something you share, it can have the opposite effect. If the goal is to feel loved, then simply announcing achievements—especially as a way to seek validation—rarely brings what you’re hoping for.

The good news? The people who truly care about you will notice your wins, whether or not you announce them. And when you share them in a way that invites connection rather than admiration, you’re far more likely to experience the sense of being valued—not just for what you’ve accomplished, but for who you are.

If-only belief #3: If only I could hide my shortcomings, I would feel more loved

So far, we’ve explored how chasing success or carefully curating an image doesn’t necessarily lead to feeling more loved. But what about the parts of yourself you don’t want to showcase—your imperfections, struggles, and vulnerabilities. Everyone has flaws, faces setbacks, and experiences moments of self-doubt. Everyone is a work in progress. Yet a common belief persists: To be loved, you must keep your weaknesses well-hidden and present only your best self. If-only belief #3 suggests that revealing anything “less than perfect” will push people away.

At first glance, this belief makes sense. After all, who doesn’t want to be seen in the best possible light? But research—and real-life experience—suggests that molding yourself into someone you’re not can create distance instead of bringing them closer.

The instinct to manage impressions is natural. As highlighted by if-only belief #2, many people shape their self-presentations in ways that invite interest—and will be attractive and compelling to others. But studies show that people don’t always know what will actually make them more appealing in relationships. Sometimes, the very traits you downplay—your quirks, challenges, or even past failures—are what draw people in. And even when you do manage to “get it right,” molding yourself into what someone else wants (e.g., dressing like a rock star because your romantic partner prefers that look) can leave you feeling uncomfortable, inauthentic, or even like an impostor.

Consider the story of Cyrano de Bergerac, the seventeenth-century nobleman who ghostwrote poetic love letters on behalf of his inarticulate friend, Christian, helping him win his beloved Roxane’s heart. The words that Christian sent were beautiful, but he didn’t write them—so no matter how much those words moved Roxane, he couldn’t feel truly known, valued, and loved. In the twenty-first century, many people do something similar—hiding who they are, carefully curating what they reveal, and hoping that others will love them for the version that others presumably want. But, as we’ve repeated before, how can you feel truly loved if the version of you being loved isn’t you?

Furthermore, if you believe your flaws will push people away, you may instinctively reveal only “safe” imperfections—for example, that you never make your bed—or keep parts of yourself completely out of sight. But secret-keeping makes it hard to feel understood. Imagine someone who reveals little of importance to their close friends. They feel misunderstood, but at the same time, they share almost nothing of what truly matters to them. How could their friends possibly understand them if they never get to see the full picture? This same dynamic plays out with family members, partners, and colleagues—when you don’t let others in, you deprive them of the chance to truly know you.

Of course, being open doesn’t mean oversharing. Some people, recognizing the value of honesty and vulnerability, swing too far in the other direction—disclosing too much too quickly, emotionally unloading or “trauma dumping” before the other person is ready to receive it. The key isn’t to lay everything bare all at once—it’s to share in a way that invites interest, receptivity, and concern. Instead of testing relationships with a flood of unfiltered disclosures, think of vulnerability as an invitation, one that allows space for your conversation partner to reciprocate, listen, and support.

When you give other people the chance to observe both your strengths and your struggles, something powerful happens: They don’t just admire you—they grow to know and understand you. And being known is an absolute prerequisite to feeling loved.

If-only belief #4: If only my partner could speak my love language, I would feel more loved

The next if-only belief is especially easy to embrace—and just as critical to examine. You’ll recognize it instantly—the idea that you’ll only feel loved if the other person speaks your love language. Introduced by pastoral counselor Gary Chapman in 2015, the idea that everyone has a preferred love language has become wildly popular, popping up everywhere you look, from song lyrics (SZA’s “Help me understand how you speak your love language”) to marketing taglines (Venmo’s “Security is our love language”). Even present-day dating apps prompt users to declare their top-rated love language from Chapman’s list of five—gifts, acts of service, quality time, physical touch, or verbal affirmation—in hope of finding a match that enhances their chances of relationship success.

There’s a reason this idea resonates so deeply with people—it’s a relatable and intuitive metaphor that offers a simple, straightforward framework for finding appropriate partners and improving relationships. It also suggests an easy complaint when you’re unhappy with your romantic partner—“They’re not speaking my love language!” Indeed, Sonja confesses that she mentions love languages in conversation at least once a week.

However, while the love-languages concept has captured the public imagination, recent research shows that it’s not as scientifically sound as many believe. Yet rather than viewing this as disappointing news, think of it as an opportunity—because what the research actually reveals is that love can be expressed and received in far more varied and flexible ways than a choice from a simple five-category system implies.

What the research reveals is that love can be expressed and received in far more varied and flexible ways than the “love language” categories imply.

Consider these three key findings from recent studies that serve as nails in the coffin of the love-languages hypothesis.

First, most people report appreciating all five languages, not just their single primary one. Indeed, in three studies of more than two hundred thousand participants, between 39 percent and 54 percent did not identify a single dominant love language.

Second, the idea of five distinct love languages doesn’t hold up statistically. A type of statistical analysis called factor analysis has failed to identify five separate categories, suggesting that these “languages” overlap and mush together. And love can be expressed in countless other ways—such as through humor, intellectual chemistry, spiritual connection, creativity, supporting a partner’s family and friends, sending flowers, or simply giving your partner space when they need it.

Finally, having a partner who expresses love in your unique identified love language doesn’t actually predict whether your relationship will be relatively more satisfying or long-lasting. Not surprisingly, research shows that couples tend to be happiest when love is expressed and received in multiple ways, not just one. In a study of 696 individuals in committed relationships, those whose partners used their “top” love language didn’t feel any more loved than those whose partners used their four lower-ranked love languages. This finding even held true for people who reported strongly preferring a particular love language, such as quality time or touch, and it even held true for people in distressed relationships.

Rather than limiting yourself to one “right” way to embrace love, these findings suggest that expanding your perspective can open up even more opportunities to feel loved. Instead of waiting for someone to speak your preferred love language, what if you became fluent in recognizing and appreciating all the ways love is already being expressed in your life? Indeed, focusing too much on just one love language might actually mean missing out on important love experiences.

Our overarching recommendation is the same as one first offered by researchers at the University of Toronto: Rather than focus on a single love language, think of them as ingredients in a well-balanced diet of connection. Different times and circumstances call for emphasizing one love language over another—affectionate touch during a stressful situation, words of affirmation when feeling insecure, or simply quality time when life feels chaotic. Most humans need to express and feel love in multiple ways. Instead of seeing love languages as rigid categories, our view instead emphasizes viewing them as tools for building the feeling that your authentic, true self is known and embraced by the other. A well-titrated balance of different love experiences, which enables you and your partner to express your love for each other more often, and to express it more naturally, is more likely to help both of you to feel more loved.

But we’re also learning more through new research. Three recent studies revealed that two particular love languages—no matter whether people rank them highly them or not—are the strongest predictors of happy relationships and feeling loved by one’s romantic partner (something that took even us by surprise). The strongest predictors—for everyone—of happy relationships and feeling loved are quality time and words of affirmation.

Our suggestion then is to practice these two “languages” more often in daily life. Prioritize quality time by putting away distractions during conversations, sharing activities you both enjoy, and scheduling intentional check-ins to reconnect. And don’t underestimate the power of words—voice to your partner the qualities you love about them, offer encouraging messages, and express gratitude for little things.

If-only belief #5: If only I could get my partner to love me more, I would feel more loved

An often-overlooked truth about feeling loved: You can be loved and still not feel loved. Even if your partner expresses love consistently and generously—offering compliments, warmth, and reassurance—feeling loved isn’t guaranteed. The same goes for love from a parent, sibling, friend, colleague, or even a child. This brings us to the final, and perhaps most important, misconception about feeling loved: the belief that the key to feeling loved is getting the other person to change—specifically, getting them to love you more. 

But is that really the answer?

Before we go any further, an important reality check: If you’ve made genuine, consistent efforts—sharing vulnerably, listening with curiosity, showing compassion—and the love you’re offering is still not requited, then it may be time to shift your focus. Sometimes, no amount of effort and patience can change how someone feels, and in those cases, the healthiest choice is to redirect your energy toward relationships that can truly nourish you. Or as the incomparable Bonnie Raitt famously sang in her moving hit song “I Can’t Make You Love Me,” you can’t make someone feel love if it’s not in their heart.

That said, if your love is reciprocated, but you still don’t often feel loved, there’s cause for hope. 

Yet if-only belief #5 is particularly tricky—because, in some ways, it contains a grain of truth. If your partner suddenly started expressing their love in a dramatically different way tomorrow, you’d probably notice. You’d likely feel more loved—at least for a little while. But here’s why this belief can mislead: That initial boost doesn’t last. Just like a salary raise feels exciting at first but soon becomes the new normal, an increase in your partner’s expressions of love, without a shift in your own approach, is unlikely to lead to a lasting change in how loved you feel.

There are other reasons this if-only belief doesn’t hold up:

• If you struggle with anxious or avoidant attachment, no amount of “additional” love will fully sink in or penetrate inside your heart—until you shift how you process and receive it. The love is there, but it may not feel like enough.
• Trying to get your partner to love you more by focusing solely on their needs tends to backfire. Overfocusing on the other person while neglecting your own needs and boundaries often leads to resentment, not deeper connection.
• If a relationship already feels empty or unfulfilling, more words of affirmation won’t fix what’s missing. Even if your partner repeatedly tells you they love you, it won’t feel satisfying if the relationship itself lacks meaning or emotional depth.

If your person loves you on some level but you still yearn to feel more loved, the shift that needs to happen is not in trying to get them to change—but in the mindsets that you engage with them. These mindsets, which we explore in full in our book How to Feel Loved, include sharing vulnerably and listening deeply, with curiosity, warmth, and acceptance. 

* * *

Many of us hold beliefs about how love works that get in the way of feeling loved. Just as with nutrition, where some foods nourish you while others leave you unsatisfied, some approaches to feeling loved sustain you while others fall short. The good news? Once you recognize what isn’t working, you can make space for the mindsets and skills that do bring happiness and connection into your life.

Excerpted from How to Feel Loved by Sonja Lyubomirsky and Harry Reis, published by Harper. Copyright © 2026 by Sonja Lyubomirsky and Harry Reis. All rights reserved. Reprinted with permission.

The post How Can We Feel Loved If We Don’t Feel Known? appeared first on Behavioral Scientist.

Shooting cat-three landings in the fog, using the “voice of God” on unruly passengers, and declaring Mayday after an engine fire with Paul Drusch, a commercial airline pilot. Why does the pilot’s paycheck start with the parking brake? And what does “sterile cockpit” mean? (Spoiler: it doesn’t mean “clean.”)

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About What It's Like to Be...
In each episode of What It's Like to Be..., bestselling author Dan Heath speaks with someone about what it's like to walk in their (work) shoes. Behavioral Scientist serves as a distribution partner with episodes released every other week. Learn more about the podcast's mission of "slow curiosity" here, and head here to get Dan's reflections on how the mission is going after a year of conversations.

The “Airline Pilot” episode of What It’s Like To Be… featured Paul Drusch. It was produced and edited by Matt Purdy. Copyright © 2026 by Dan Heath. All rights reserved.

The post What It’s Like to Be…an Airline Pilot appeared first on Behavioral Scientist.

Untangling who gets to speak for a dying patient, weighing a treatment's benefits against its burdens, and searching for clarity in the grayest corners of healthcare with Esther Berkowitz, a clinical ethicist. What is the "dignity of risk"? And how do you know which "version" of a person to trust?

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About What It's Like to Be...
In each episode of What It's Like to Be..., bestselling author Dan Heath speaks with someone about what it's like to walk in their (work) shoes. Behavioral Scientist serves as a distribution partner with episodes released every other week. Learn more about the podcast's mission of "slow curiosity" here, and head here to get Dan's reflections on how the mission is going after a year of conversations.

The “Clinical Ethicist” episode of What It’s Like To Be… featured Esther Berkowitz. It was produced and edited by Matt Purdy. Copyright © 2026 by Dan Heath. All rights reserved.

The post What It’s Like to Be…a Clinical Ethicist appeared first on Behavioral Scientist.

Each summer, we read a novel and explore its themes through conversations with leading thinkers at the intersection of science and culture.

This summer, we’ll read Flights by Polish author Olga Tokarczuk, the recipient of the 2018 Nobel Prize in literature. 

Flights is an enigma of a novel—part memoir, part short story collection, part ethnography of travel—that explores the human impulse toward movement; the perpetual tension between exploring somewhere new or staying put. 

“Clearly I did not inherit whatever gene it is that makes it so when you linger in a place you start to put down roots,” Tokarczuk’s ephemeral narrator tells us in the opening pages. “My energy derives from movement—from the shuddering of buses, the rumble of planes, trains’ and ferries’ rocking.”

Flights is often billed as a book about travel, and Tokarczuk delights with original and memorable observations about the experience of being on the move—including the people you encounter and the places you encounter them. But calling Flights a novel about travel obscures the force with which Tokarczuk asks: What are you running from? What are you running toward?

At times playful and surprising, at others morbid and mysterious, Flights offers us a chance to explore our own journeys. And as we travel, through space and time, in our minds, and over the course of our lives, what do our experiences and memories amount to? Do they form a meaningful whole? Or are they simply fragments; the fruits of entropy and fate rather than free will?

We hope you’ll read Flights with us this summer to explore these questions and others. New this year, the Book Club will include:

• A five-part podcast exploring themes from the book with guest experts  
• Collaborative memory map of the places and travels that have changed us
• Live and asynchronous group discussions 
• Special feature articles
• A final, celebratory online event

The book club will run through July and August, culminating with an online event in early September. There are both asynchronous and live participation opportunities, so you can tailor the book club to your summer schedule. (For a full overview of how things will work this summer, head here.)

Already have a monthly or yearly subscription? Join the book club here.

The post Announcing Our Summer Book Club and Podcast appeared first on Behavioral Scientist.

The game was over. Babe, who had made one of his famous drives that day, was tired and wanted to go home. “Not tonight, Babe,” I said. “Tonight you go to college with me. You're going to take scientific tests which will reveal your secret.”

“Who wants to know it?” asked Babe.

“I want to know it,” I replied, “and so do several hundred thousand fans. We want to know why it is that one man has achieved a unique batting skill like yours—just why you can slam the ball as nobody else in the world can.”

So away we went. Babe in his baseball uniform, not home to his armchair, but out to Columbia University to take his first college examination.

Babe went at the test with the zeal of a schoolboy, and the tests revealed why his rise to fame followed suddenly after years of playing during which he was known as an erratic although a powerful hitter. How he abruptly gained his unparalleled skill has been one of baseball's mysteries.

Albert Johanson, M.A., and Joseph Holmes, M.A., of the research laboratory of Columbia University's psychological department, who, in all probability, never saw Ruth hit a baseball, and who neither know or care if his batting average is .007 or .450, are .500 hitters in the psychology game. They led Babe Ruth into the great laboratory of the university, figuratively took him apart, watched the wheels go round; analyzed his brain, his eye, his ear, his muscles; studied how these worked together; reassembled him, and announced the exact reasons for his supremacy as a batter and a ball-player.

Baseball employs scores of scouts to explore the country and discover baseball talent. These scouts are known as “Ivory hunters,” and if baseball-club owners take the hint from the Ruth experiments, they can organize a clinic, submit candidates to the comprehensive tests undergone by Ruth, and discover whether or not other Ruths exist. By these tests it would be possible for the club owners to discover—during the winter, perhaps—whether the ball-players are liable to be good, bad, or mediocre; and, to carry the practical results of the experiments to the limit, then may be able to eliminate the possibility, or probability, of some player “pulling a boner” in mid-season by discovering, before the season starts, how liable he is to do so.

The scientific ivory hunters of Columbia University discovered that the secret of Babe Ruth’s batting, reduced to non-scientific terms, is that his eyes and ears function more rapidly than those of other players; that his brain records sensations more quickly and transmits its orders to the muscles much faster than does that of the average man. The tests proved that the coordination of eye, brain, nerve system, and muscle is practically perfect, and that the reason he did not acquire his great batting power before the sudden burst at the beginning of the baseball season of 1920, was because, prior to that time, pitching and studying batters disturbed his almost perfect coordination.

Ruth the superman

The tests revealed the fact that Ruth is 90 per cent efficient compared with a human average of 60 per cent.

That his eyes are about 12 per cent faster than those of the average human being.

That his ears function at least 10 per cent faster than those of the ordinary man. That his nerves are steadier than those of 499 out of 500 persons.

That in attention and quickness of perception he rated one and a half times above the human average.

That in intelligence, as demonstrated by the quickness and accuracy of understanding, he is approximately 10 per cent above normal.

It must not be forgotten that the night on which the tests were made was an extremely warm one, and that in the afternoon he had played a hard, exhausting game of baseball before a large crowd, in the course of which he had made one of those home-run hits which we at Columbia were so eager to understand and account for. Under such circumstances, one would think that some signs of nerve exhaustion would be revealed. The instigation lasted more than three hours, during which Ruth stood for most of the time, walked up and down stairs five times, and underwent the tests in a close warm room. At the end of that time I was tired and nervous, and, although Ruth showed no symptoms of weariness, it is probable that under more favorable conditions his showing would have been even better.

The tests used were ones that primarily test motor functions and give a measure of the integrity of the psychophysical organism. Babe Ruth was posed first in an apparatus created to determine the strength, quickness, and approximate power of the swing of his bat against his ball. A plane covered with electrically charges wires, strung horizontally, was placed behind him and a ball was hung over the theoretical plate, so that it could be suspended at any desired height.

I learned something then which, perhaps, will interest the American League pitchers more than it will the scientists. This was that the ball Ruth likes best to hit, and can hit hardest, is a low ball pitched just above his knees on the outside corner of the plate. The scientists did not consider this of extreme importance in their calculations, but the pitchers will probably find it of great scientific interest.

Science discovers the secret

The ball was adjusted at the right height, and, taking up a bat that was electrically wired, Ruth was told to get into position and to swing his bat exactly as if striking the ball for a home run, to make the end of it touch one of the transverse wires on the plate behind him, then swing it through its natural arc and hit the ball lightly. The bat, weighing fifty-four ounces (exactly the weight of the bats Ruth uses on the diamond), was swung as directed, touched the ball, and the secret of his power—or, rather, the amount of force with which the strikes the ball—was calculated. At least, the basis of the problem was secured: The bat, weighing fifty-four ounces, swinging at a rate of 110 feet a second, hits a ball travelling at the rate of, say, sixty feet a second, the ball weighing four and a quarter ounces, and striking the bat at a point four inches from the end. How far will it travel? 

There are other elements entering into the problem, such as the resilience of the ball, the “English” placed on it by the pitcher’s hand, and a few minor details. But the answer, as proved by the measurements, is somewhere between 450 and 500 feet. This problem cannot be worked down to exact figures because of the unknown quantities.

The experimenters, however, were not so much interested in the problem in physics as they were in the problems in psychology. The thing they wanted to know was what made Ruth superior to all other ball-players in hitting power, rather than to measure that power.

Babe could beat his own record!

Before proceeding to the psychological tests, however, we tried another in physics to satisfy my curiosity. A harness composed of rubber tubing was strapped around Ruth's chest and shoulders and attached by hollow tubes to a recording cylinder. By this means his breathing was recorded on a revolving disk. He was then placed in position to bat, an imaginary pitcher pitched an imaginary ball, and he went through the motions of hitting a home run. The test proved that, as a ball is pitched to him, Babe draws in his breath sharply as he makes the back-swing with his bat, and really “holds his breath” or suspends the operation of his breathing until after the ball is hit. But for that fact, he would hit the ball much harder and more effectively than he now does. It has been discovered that the act of drawing in the breath and holding it results in a sharp tension of the muscles and a consequent loss of striking power. If Ruth expelled his breath before striking the ball, the muscles would not become tense and his swing would have greater strength and rhythm.

The first test to discover the efficiency of his psychophysical organism was one designed to try his coordination; a simple little test. The scientists set up a triangular board, looking some thing like a ouija-board, with a small round hole at each angle. At the bottom of each hole was an electrified plate that registered every time it was touched. Ruth was presented with a little instrument that looked like a doll-sized curling iron, the end of which just fitted into the holes. Then he was told to take the instrument in his right hand and jab it into the holes successively, as often as he could in one minute, going around the board from left to right.

He grew interested at once. Here was something at which he could play. The professor “shushed” me, fearing that I would disturb Ruth or distract his attention as he started around the board, jabbing the curling-iron into the holes with great rapidity. He would put it into the holes twelve to sixteen times so perfectly that the instrument barely touched the sides. Then he would lose control and touch the sides, slowing down. Only twice did he pass the hole without getting the end of the iron into it. With his right hand he made a score of 122. Not unnaturally, his wrist was tired and Babe shook it and grinned ruefully.

Then he tried it with his left hand, scored 132 with it, proving himself a bit more left- than right-handed—at least in some activities. The significance of the experiment, however, lies in the fact that the average of hundreds of persons who have taken that test is 82 to the minute, which shows how much swifter in the coordination of hand, brain, and eye Ruth is than the average.

Every test but another triumph

In a sequel to this test that followed, Babe tapped an electrified plate with an electrically charged stylus with the speed of a drum-roll, scoring 193 taps per minute with his right hand and 176 with his left hand. The average score for right-handed persons undergoing this wrist-wracking experiment is 180, and, while there is no data covering right-handed persons using the left hand, it is certain that Ruth's record is much above the average, as he is highly efficient with the left hand.

But steadiness must accompany speed and so they tested the home-run king for his steadiness of nerve and muscle by having him thrust the useful little curling-iron stylus in different-sized holes pierced through an electrified plate which registered contacts between the stylus and the side of the hole. These measured respectively sixteen, eleven, nine, eight, and seven sixty-fourths of an inch; small enough, but not too small for Babe, for he made a score that showed him better than 499 persons out of 500.

The tests that interested me most were those to determine how quickly Ruth’s eye acts and how quickly its signals are flashed through the brain to the muscles. Showing an amazingly quick reaction time, they interpreted what happens on the ball-field when the stands rock under the cheering that greets another of Ruth's smashes to the fence, proved an eye so quick that it sees the ball make an erratic curve and guides the bat to follow.

The scientists discovered exactly how quickly Ruth’s eye functions by placing him in a dark cabinet, setting into operation a series of rapidly flashing bulbs and listening to the tick of an electric key by which he acknowledged the flashes.

The average man responds to the stimulus of the light in 180 one thousandths of a second. Babe Ruth needs only 160 one thousandths of a second. There is the same significance in the fact that Babe's response to the stimulus of sound comes 140 one thousandths of a second as against the averages man's 150 thousandths.

Human beings differ very slightly in these sight and sound tests, or rather the fractions are so small that they seem inexpressive; yet a difference of 20 or 10 one thousandths of a second indicates a superiority of the highest importance.

Translate the findings of the sight test into baseball if you want to see what they mean in Babe Ruth’s case. 

They mean that a pitcher must throw a ball 20 one thousandths of a second faster to “fool” Babe than to “fool” the average person.

If the results of these tests at Columbia are a revelation to us, who know Ruth as a fast thinking player, they must be infinitely more amazing to the person who only comes into contact with the big fellow off the diamond and finds him unresponsive and even slow when some non-professional topic in under discussion.

The scientific “ivory hunters” up at Columbia demonstrated that Babe Ruth would have been the “home-run king” in almost any line of activity he chose to follow; that his brain would have won equal success for him had he drilled it for as long a time on some line entirely foreign to the national game. They did it, just as they proved his speed and his steadiness—by simple laboratory tests.

For instance, they had an apparatus with a sort of a camera shutter arrangement that opened, winked, and closed at any desired speed. Cards with letters of the alphabet on them were placed behind this shutter and exposed to view for one fifty-thousandth of a second. Ruth read them as they flashed into view, calling almost instantly the units of groups of three, four, five, and six letters. With eight shown he got the first six, and was uncertain of the others. The average person can see four and one half letters on the same test.

When cards marked with black dots were used, Ruth was even faster. He called up the number of dots on every card up to twelve without one mistake, The average person can see eight.

To test him for quickness of perception and understanding, he was given a card showing five different symbols—a star, a cross, and three other shapes—many times repeated, and was told to select a number—one, two, three, four, or five—for each symbol, then to mark the selected number under each one as rapidly as he could go over the card. He scored 103 hits on that test, which his the average of all who have tried it. But when given a card covered with printed matter and told to cross out all the a's, he made a score of sixty, which is one and a half times the average.

The secret of Babe Ruth’s ability to hit is clearly revealed in these tests. His eye, his ear, his brain, his nerves all function more rapidly than do those of the average person. Further the coordination between eye, ear, brain, and muscle is much nearer perfection than that of the normal healthy man.

The scientific “ivory hunters” dissecting the “home-run king” discovered brain instead of bone, and showed how little mere luck, or even mere hitting strength, has to do with Ruth's phenomenal record.

Reprinted from: Fullerton, H. S. (1921). Why Babe Ruth is Greatest Home­ Run Hitter. Popular Science Monthly, 99(4), 19-21, 110. Now in the public domain. (Source 1, Source 2)

Bonus fact one: The term "inside baseball" originated from the home run debate sparked by players like Babe Ruth. “The original meaning appears to have referred to a particular style of play which relied on bunts, stealing bases, and minor hits, rather than on flashier tactics, such as home runs," according to Merriam Webster, before evolving to mean "minutiae or things about which only a few insiders care."

Bonus fact two: In a 2006 feature for GQ investigating the science of hitting a baseball, journalist Nate Penn, inspired by the Ruth experiments, brought MLB-great Albert Pujols into the psychology lab to participate in similar tests.

Acknowledgements: Thank you to Alfred Fuchs for unearthing the experiments in his 1998 article in the Journal of the History of the Behavioral Sciences; Christopher D. Green, who has developed a terrific archive of the classics in the history of psychology; and to the Cummings Center for the History of Psychology at the University of Akron for the original cover image.

The post The Psychology of the Home Run in 1921 appeared first on Behavioral Scientist.

Grinding through 16-hour shifts, standing behind inmates (never in front), and trying to stay human in an inhuman environment with Bill Farrell, a correctional officer in Massachusetts. What happens when an officer gets "frozen"? And why does the sound of scuffling sneakers stop him in his tracks?

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About What It's Like to Be...
In each episode of What It's Like to Be..., bestselling author Dan Heath speaks with someone about what it's like to walk in their (work) shoes. Behavioral Scientist serves as a distribution partner with episodes released every other week. Learn more about the podcast's mission of "slow curiosity" here, and head here to get Dan's reflections on how the mission is going after a year of conversations.

The “Correctional Officer” episode of What It’s Like To Be… featured Bill Farrell. It was produced and edited by Matt Purdy. Copyright © 2026 by Dan Heath. All rights reserved.

The post What It’s Like to Be…a Correctional Officer appeared first on Behavioral Scientist.