Oh, Mr. Sandman … Sleep’s Role in Making Us Kinder and More Ethical

“Now I see the secret of making the best person: it is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.” (Walt Whitman)

sleepy guy at computerLast week’s post speculated on an alternate future for Cinderella. Today, Sleeping Beauty visits YOLK. And most welcome she is.

Sleep is a pastime I’ve come to value more as I age. Hence, I’m always pleased to read new research describing the benefits of sleep and prescribing seven to eight hours of that magic elixir.

Among the splendid benefits of a good night’s sleep:

  • It improves memory
  • It helps us live longer and reduces inflammation that often leads to serious health problems
  • We are less prone to accidents
  • It helps us be more creative
  • It helps students do better in school
  • It improves athletic performance
  • It lowers stress
  • We are less likely to suffer from depression
  • It helps us achieve and maintain a healthy weight

And recently I encountered another: Adequate sleep makes us more ethical.

A study published in the journal of the Academy of Management found that a lack of sleep led not only to poor performance, more accidents, and decreased productivity, but also to increased deviant and unethical behaviors. The researchers, Michael Christian and Aleksander Ellis, report that sleep deprivation results in lower brain functioning, especially in the prefrontal cortex—the part of the brain that controls what they call “executive” functions, related to self-control of emotions and behaviors. Our prefrontal cortex is fueled by glucose, and inadequate sleep starves us of that glucose, resulting in a reduced ability to recognize and resist temptation. With adequate sleep and ample brain glucose, we easily resist any impulse to lie, cheat, or steal, but when we are sleep- and glucose-deprived, we are much more likely to succumb to the lure of lying, cutting corners, or other unethical behaviors.

In a Harvard Business Review article, researcher Christopher Barnes of the University of Washington’s Foster School of Business reported similar results on the effects of sleep on ethical behavior. His work also revealed that it doesn’t take much of a sleep deficit to make a difference. In one of his studies, the subjects who cheated had only 22 minutes less sleep than the non-cheaters. Barnes further cited studies showing that lack of sleep leads to deviant behavior at work, such as falsifying receipts, claiming credit for another’s work, or lying. He also notes that in business it is often those who are in the most important or prominent positions who are most sleep-deprived—perhaps explaining some high-profile ethical lapses we’ve seen in the corporate world in recent years.

He concludes that “Organizations need to give sleep more respect. Executives and managers should keep in mind that the more they push employees to work late, come to the office early, and answer emails and calls at all hours, the more they invite unethical behavior to creep in.”

America is often referred to as a sleep-deprived nation. It makes me wonder just how much of the bad behavior we see and read about daily is attributable to tired people intersecting with other tired people and neither making the best choices.

It’s not a big leap to conclude that adequate sleep is an important element of kindness. While I’m no scientist, I know from my own experience that when I’m especially tired I’m not as kind as I am when I am rested and refreshed. It’s not that I am overtly unkind—though I’ve been known to be snappish when weary—but I bypass opportunities to extend kindness. I’m just too tired. Or maybe I’m just oblivious. Whatever it is, when sleep deprived it’s harder to summon the energy for kindness. Whether it’s offering assistance, writing an encouraging note, or feeding apples to the neighbors’ horses, there are times when I’m. Just. Too. Tired.

I could tell myself that I’m foregoing kindness toward others to extend some self-care or kindness to myself when I’m worn-out. And it’s true that the best thing to do when we’re running on empty is to sit down, take a nap, go to bed early or sleep later in the morning. Good advice and also a good reminder to pay attention so we recognize our own symptoms of fatigue.

But it doesn’t need to be an either/or. I’ve also noticed that if I overcome the inertia of my fatigue and step forward to offer assistance, write the kind note, feed the horses, I get a sudden jolt of energy, much like I get with an extra-hot, non-fat caramel macchiato on a cold winter morning. So, extending kindness when tired might be as replenishing as a cat-nap, or a jolt of java. [I’ve yet to see a study comparing the effects of caffeine with the effects of kindness, but I am more than willing to be a subject—in either of the control groups—if someone wants to take it on.  Whataya say, Starbucks?]

Just as it’s easier to solve complex problems or learn new things when well-rested, I contend it’s also easier to be kind. So next time you hit “snooze” on the alarm and roll over for just another 20 minutes of sleep, remember that you’re doing the world a favor: you’ll be a kinder and more ethical person for it. The world needs that. Thank you.

As for me, Sleeping Beauty is going to go replenish the glucose in her prefrontal cortex….

“My father said there were two kinds of people in the world: givers and takers. The takers may eat better, but the givers sleep better.” (Marlo Thomas)

Bippidi-Boppidi-Boo: The Magic of Kindness

“When you open a door for others, you sometimes open doors for yourself.” (Donald L. Hicks)

CinderellaImagine if Cinderella had been too shy to go to the ball. It would have been a very different story, or, in fact, no story at all. Had she demurred when her fairy godmother offered her a shimmering gown, glass slippers, and a golden coach, her fate would have been to continue as servant and drudge to her demanding stepmother and selfish stepsisters. Years later, tired and worn down by life, she might have thought regretfully about the night she said no because she was too afraid to say yes. So much for happily ever after.

Fortunately for her—and for six-year-old girls everywhere—Cindy was confident and eager to suit up and ride her pimped-out pumpkin to the palace where she became belle of the ball.

But there are thousands of people who face Cindy’s choice daily—though on a smaller and less-Disneyesque scale—and they hold back, out of fear and social anxiety. They feel a paralyzing dread at the thought of entering a social situation—be it attending a party, meeting new people, or speaking out at a meeting. Help is at hand, though, in the form of new research from our friends to the north, showing that kindness alleviates social anxiety.

Social anxiety is more than shyness. According to the Social Anxiety Institute: ”Social anxiety is the fear of interaction with other people that brings on self-consciousness, feelings of being negatively judged and evaluated, and, as a result, leads to avoidance, … feelings of inadequacy, inferiority, embarrassment, humiliation, and depression.” It is a debilitating condition, isolating the sufferer and often preventing them from developing intimacy or close relationships.

A study recently published in the Journal of Motivation and Emotion by researchers Jennifer Trew of Simon Fraser University and Lynn Alden of the University of British Columbia revealed that engaging in acts of kindness reduced levels of social anxiety and social avoidance.

The study divided college students with social anxiety issues into three groups. One was directed to simply keep a diary of their experiences and emotions, another was exposed to different socialization situations, and the third was instructed to perform acts of kindness—three acts of kindness a day for two days a week over the course of four weeks. The kindnesses could be as simple as mowing a neighbor’s lawn, donating to charity, or washing a roommate’s dishes, and were defined as “acts that benefit others or make others happy, typically at some cost to oneself.”

After a month, the group tasked with performing acts of kindness reported lower levels of discomfort and anxiety about social interaction than either of the other two groups.

The researchers concluded that “acts of kindness may help to counter negative social expectations by promoting more positive perceptions (and expectations) of the social environment. This is likely to occur early in the intervention as participants anticipate positive reactions from others in response to their kindness, decreasing the perceived need to avoid negative social outcomes.”

So… we feel better about ourselves and our environment when we extend kindness, and we also expect better reactions and results. Thus, we are less fearful. Makes sense.

I suspect, also, that when we are engaged in kind acts, our attention is on the act or the object of it, and we are less aware of our own worries. While this study didn’t specifically look at people performing kindnesses in the social situations that frighten them, I imagine entering such situations with the intent of finding opportunities to be kind would go far to alleviate the fear. It would divert us from feeling self-conscious and worrying about how we are being judged.

While most of us don’t suffer from debilitating social anxiety, this study of kindness can likely be extrapolated to anyone who experiences discomfort in social situations—whether a cocktail party, public speaking, weddings, funerals, or the dating scene. If we replace worrying with looking for opportunities to be kind, we may very well discover that the event we dreaded was enjoyable and painless. And perhaps we’ll be the proverbial belle of the ball.

As Cinderella might, say, “If the shoe fits….”

“If you want others to be happy, practice compassion.  If you want to be happy, practice compassion.”  (Dalai Lama)

At the Halfway Point…

“Kindness covers all of my political beliefs. No need to spell them out. I believe that if, at the end, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn’t always know this and am happy I lived long enough to find it out.” (Roger Ebert)

tightrope walkerI’ve reached the halfway point in my year of living kindly. As I did at the end of the first quarter, it’s time to pause for a self-assessment.

At the end of March I gave myself a report card, with an overall grade of C+. I generally felt I was on the right track, but maybe not making enough effort or stepping out of my comfort zone often enough. A few of my friends chastised me (but did so very kindly) for being hard on myself—in fact for being unkind to myself. My husband broke his silence and posted a rant, noting he had made no such commitment to kindness.

So, this time I’ll look for a less judgmental way to evaluate my progress toward living a kind life. Maybe some open-ended questions that don’t require arbitrary scoring and potential self-flagellation. This format appeals to my periodic dual persona, plus, after six months, I’ve finally realized that my blog has a delightful acronym.

YOLK: Have you noticed a difference in your life after making this year-long commitment to kindness?

Me: I have. I feel kinder inside. It may not be evident to anyone else, but I think I am kinder. I think about kindness a lot, and I actively look for it. I do believe it directs my attention in very positive ways.

YOLK: What have been your biggest ah-has?

Me: One of my biggest ah-has is how many ah-has there are, so this is not going to be a short answer. A huge ah-ha is the role of mindfulness in kindness. All I need to do is pay attention and I see that opportunities to extend kindness are everywhere. I think we often operate on automatic-pilot, oblivious to the people and circumstances around us, and the difference a word, a smile, or an act of kindness could make. I’ve come to see that the simple reminder to “pay attention” may be one of the universal secrets to a good life.

Somewhat related to this is the power of the pause. That’s huge. Instead of speaking or acting in instant response to a situation, taking the time to pause and think about what I want my response to activate—and why—has been very powerful. In the space of that brief pause, I might totally change my reaction, or perhaps decide not to respond at all. That pause has always guided me to a better place. I frequently reflect on the four questions Rotarians pause to ask:

  • Is it the truth?
  • Is it fair to all concerned?
  • Will it build goodwill and friendship?
  • Will it be beneficial to all concerned?

If the answer to any is no, choose silence. Who knew Rotarians were so wise?

Another ah-ha is how much kindness there is all around. My eyes and ears are more attuned to it, and I see it everywhere. Big kindness and little kindness. They’re ubiquitous. I’ve also become more aware than ever of just how tremendously kind my husband is—to friends, to neighbors, to strangers, even to me. I married good, Mom. Bill will probably take issue with this, because he has a cynical, skeptical scientist reputation to uphold, but it’s true.

The last big ah-ha is probably that when I see unkindness, it’s easier now to see what might be behind it—fear, embarrassment, insecurity, obliviousness—and to be a bit less judge-y.

YOLK: Where do you still have the most work to do?

Me: You may have noticed that I said a bit less judge-y. I’m still too quick to judge when I see someone do something unkind (often while behind the wheel—that particular location seems to bring out the worst in the best of us…especially in Seattle traffic). I need to do a better job of activating my curiosity so I can imagine a good reason why someone cuts another person off in traffic or blares their horn and offers a rude hand gesture. I need to be more adept at giving the benefit of the doubt.  Additionally, there are always more ways to express and extend kindness; I hope to find them in the next six months.

YOLK: Has anything surprised you?

Me: I am surprised daily, sometimes hourly, and am in a perpetual state of wonder, both over the kindnesses and the unkindnesses I see, hear, or read about. I’ve also been surprised by the whole business of blogging. Putting a commitment out there in a very public way is at times scary, daunting, and certainly counter to my generally private and introverted nature. Nonetheless, I love it and I’ve connected with some wise, smart, and delightful people as a result. It’s been a great lesson in risk-taking at a time when I was ready to inject some risk into my life. It’s also been a good lesson in making my self-imposed deadlines, as I’ve often related to the wonderful Douglas Adams quote: “I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.”

But getting back to kindness, perhaps the biggest surprise has also been the simplest. This commitment to kindness feels right—it is exactly what I should be doing and want to be doing at this exact moment in my life. How cool is that?

YOLK: Okay, because I know you better than you know yourself, I know you haven’t entirely given up on that letter grade method of appraisal. What say you?

Me: B-minus, but a tarnished silver star for good intentions….

“Wherever there is a human being, there is an opportunity for kindness.” (Seneca)

 

Bothered and Bewildered…

“Conquer the angry one by not getting angry; conquer the wicked by goodness; conquer the stingy by generosity, and the liar by speaking the truth.” (Gautama Buddha)

CandlestickTelephoneGal

It’s summer.  I should be thinking about when blueberries will be ready for picking, peach ice cream, or the perfect beach read.  Instead, I’m pondering the difference between malice and evil, and what tips the scales from being unkind or unpleasant to being cruel, immoral, or criminal. Does someone who does rotten things have a line they will not cross? At what point do they say, “This far and no further”? And where does hate fit into all of this? Clearly, this is not a week for sunny, summer chirpiness.

Sometimes, I find myself wondering if I am impossibly deluded to believe in the power of kindness. In my heart, I know I am not, but sometimes, you gotta wonder…

Proust said “Unkind people imagine themselves to be inflicting pain on someone equally unkind.” The more I think about that quote, the more profound it seems.

I am often mystified to read or hear about deliberate and premeditated unkindness. What motivates people to act that way, and what do they tell themselves to justify their behavior?

I know that people can often act unkindly out of reflex—a response to embarrassment, or a fear of rejection.  And sometimes it’s because they are oblivious to the situation or the other person’s feelings, or perhaps their action is governed by a sense of entitlement (I deserve this and you’d better not get in my way!).

But it doesn’t seem that those conditions fully explain calculated and intentional unkindness. I want to believe that kindness is stronger that unkindness, and that kindness will (eventually) counter meanness or cruelty. But then I answer the phone and again I wonder…

Not What Alexander Graham Bell Intended…

Over the past few weeks, I’ve received several telephone calls claiming to be from Microsoft’s Windows Service Center, saying that my computer has been hacked and they just need to ask me some questions and then they can help me fix the problem. I know these calls are scams; they want to get personal information and direct me to some site that will plant a virus on my computer. Bill says just to hang up. But a couple of times, I tried to engage the caller.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Ma’am, I’m calling to help you fix your computer problem.”

“You and I both know that’s not true. Why do you do this? Is this really who you want to be?” I try to ask kindly.

At this point, they hang up on me. I wish they wouldn’t. I really would like to know. Maybe it’s the only job they could get and they are desperate for money. Maybe they really don’t understand the harm they are trying to inflict. Presumably, they just don’t care.

That brings me back to Proust. Perhaps if one assumes that all people are cruel or dishonest, they can justify their own cruelty or dishonesty.

I think most of us are the opposite. We assume people are pretty much like we are—eager to help, honest, trusting, and generally kind. And we’re always surprised to encounter people who are not.  Short of stuffing the phone down the garbage disposal (oh, so tempting!), it appears such surprises will persist.

In addition to the fake Microsoft calls, last week I had a robo-call telling me my Banner Bank credit card had been frozen for possible fraudulent activity and to “press one” to talk to a service representative who would take the information needed to “unfreeze” my card. That was another easy one: I don’t have a credit card through Banner Bank, but if I did, I hope I would have been smart enough to ignore the call.

I also had a call from a company claiming that it had been three years since they last serviced our furnace, thus it was overdue for servicing and they’d like to schedule an appointment. I happened to know the name of the company that services our furnace and this wasn’t it. I asked the caller why he was telling me we’d done business with his company when we hadn’t. Why not just tell me they do great work at reasonable prices and see if we need their services? He hung up on me. I really am curious. I imagine he gets paid—or bonused—on the basis of how many service appointments he can schedule, so he thought trickery might be more profitable than the truth. Perhaps his boss told him that people would fall for the lie. Perhaps they do.

Most troubling of all, I read this week about the growing prevalence of what is called the “Hello, Grandma” scam. This involves calling elderly people and claiming to be a grandchild in trouble and needing money to get home or get out of jail. The worried elder wires money to the scammer. The story I read described an 83-year-old woman in Colorado who was bilked of $23,000 in such a scheme, and a 93-year-old woman who lost $69,000 trying to help a fictitious grandchild.

Estimates are that elderly American’s are robbed of nearly $3 billion a year through scams such as these. They are trusting, they may be confused, they fear for the safety of a family member—they make an easy target. But, who does this sort of thing and how can they look at themselves in the mirror each day?  Where do they draw the line on their bad behavior? Do they really believe, as Proust postulates, that these trusting seniors are as unkind and dishonest as themselves?

If so, answering their unkindness with equal unkindness just reinforces their belief and justifies their unscrupulous actions. Responding with kindness may have no immediate effect, but perhaps like a stone being polished by the river, eventually it will make a difference.  Or maybe I’m just a schmuck to think so.

Perhaps it is naïve to think that dishonest or unkind people can change. I hold no illusions that kindness will transform the psychopath or sociopath. But I am enough of an optimist that I hold out hope for the fearful and angry people who simply haven’t yet learned the power of kindness.

“If a person seems wicked, do not cast him away. Awaken him with your words, elevate him with your deeds, repay his injury with your kindness. Do not cast him away; cast away his wickedness.” (Lao Tzu)

 

Kindness – An Evolution or a Transformation?

“Be kind to people and don’t judge, for you do not know what demons they carry and what battles they are fighting.” (Vashti Quiroz-Vega)

Little FriedaHave you ever been adopted by a stray cat? It prowls the porch for a few weeks; then you put out some water and maybe a smidge of tuna, and before you know it, you’re hand-feeding him Chicken Marengo from the dinner table and making him a bed on the best chair in the bedroom.

That’s how kindness sneaks up on you. You start small and pretty soon it’s an habitual practice and it’s made a home in your life.

I’m a big believer in incremental change. Maybe that’s because attempts to make lofty changes all at once have never worked for me. Whether it’s exercise, writing, or keeping my office clean, an attempt to go from zero to sixty in one big leap always resulted in failure.

After years of thwarted good intentions, I finally realized that if I start small—exercise for 15 minutes, write for one half-hour, clean one shelf of my bookcase—the resulting good feelings reinforce the action and I want to do more. And pretty soon a new habit is ingrained.

Kindness works the same way. One can’t go from being oblivious and self-absorbed to being Mother Teresa’s more compassionate sister by simply saying, “From now on, I’m going to be a kind person.” As author R.J. Palacio recently stated, “If kindness were easy, after all, everyone would do it.” We have years of inattention and self-centeredness to overcome, not to mention the attendant fears of having our kindness rejected or “doing it wrong.” But we can go out of our way to perform one small kindness each day, and perhaps after a couple of weeks, perform two, or engage in a large act of kindness. As we see how good it feels, we want to do more, and pretty soon we’re approaching every encounter with the hope that there will be an opportunity to extend ourselves.

I don’t really think there’s such a thing as a small kindness. A warm smile, a kind word, a door held or a package carried—they all influence the receiver to pass it on or “pay it forward.” We have no way of knowing how far one kind action can reverberate.

On the other side of the spectrum, we can stop the reverberation of unkindness by absorbing an insult without retaliating, or hearing harsh words and not hurling them back. These small—but difficult—acts will help to slow the epidemic of unkindness. That’s hard to do, especially when we are just itching to voice the clever retort that will put that person in his or her place. It helps to approach such encounters with the spirit of inquiry we talked about a few weeks ago, to ask what might be motivating this person to act as he does, and what burden he might be carrying that has shortened his temper and brought out the Darth Vader in him. We don’t even have to understand—it’s enough to recognize that there might be more going on than we can see, and to give the benefit of the doubt.

Kindness—like playing the piano or becoming proficient at golf—requires practice. One way to instill the practice that will lead to proficiency is to set an intention of being five percent kinder—to ourselves and to others. Just five percent—or maybe two percent, or ten. Not a lot, but just enough to notice the difference it makes. Let that small incremental change take root and flower. After a while, and with steady practice, kindness becomes both intentional and instinctive—and that’s when magic happens.

Think about it for a moment. What would you do differently if you were just five percent kinder? To yourself? To others? To the planet?

Simone Weil, the French philosopher, wisely said, “Even if our efforts of attention seem for years to be producing no result, one day a light that is in exact proportion to them will flood the soul.”

Like the stray cat who comes to stay, let kindness creep in. Feed it and make a bed for it. Before you know it, the light will flood your soul….

“When we do what we love, again and again, our life comes to hold the fragrance of that thing.” (Wayne Muller)