Bring two or more people together and they will immediately begin to synchronize or fall into rhythm with one another. Not only do we tend to subconsciously mimic one another's movements, postures, facial expressions, and gestures, but recent breakthroughs in technology have revealed we also sync up our heart rates, blood pressure, brain waves, pupil dilation, and hormonal activity. This phenomenon is known as interpersonal synchrony, and it is possibly the most consequential social dynamic most people have never heard of.
Take the sur­prise some have expressed in recent years upon find­ing out that the expres­sion to "pic­ture" some­thing in one's head isn't just a fig­ure of speech. You mean that peo­ple "pic­tur­ing an apple," say, haven't been just think­ing about an apple, but actu­al­ly see­ing one in their heads? The inabil­i­ty to do that has a name: aphan­ta­sia, from the Greek word phan­ta­sia, "image," and prefix - a, "with­out."
Praise. Universally good, right? Those of you who are fans of Alfie Kohn's (2018) work know it isn't. Praise comes with baggage. I (EB) was reminded of another downside by a young adult patient who sees praise as invalidating or dismissive of a person's experience. What about this exchange? Person: "I can't do it." Response: "Yes, you can. You are so amazing and strong."
You know that person in the meeting who barely says anything, yet somehow everyone turns to them when decisions need to be made? I've been fascinated by this phenomenon ever since I started interviewing people for my articles. After talking to over 200 folks ranging from startup founders to middle managers, I noticed something striking: the ones who commanded the most respect weren't always the loudest voices in the room.
Anyone who is under psychiatric care, or loves someone who is, may want to read the book The Devil's Castle: Nazi Eugenics, Euthanasia, and How Psychiatry's Troubled History Reverberates Today, by Susanne Paola Antonetta. If you care about history, particularly the history of eugenics, you may be interested as well. The book may offer us more respect for the mind, for consciousness, and its diversity.
Picture this: a couple walks into a restaurant on a Friday night. They glance around, choose their table, and settle into their seats. Before they've even opened their menus, their server already has a pretty good idea whether they'll leave 10% or 25%. It sounds like mind reading, but after talking with dozens of servers over the years, I've learned it's more like pattern recognition honed by thousands of interactions.
Ever catch yourself standing in a store, holding something you genuinely want, only to put it back because that familiar knot forms in your stomach? You know the one-that creeping guilt that whispers you don't really need it, that you should save the money instead, that spending on yourself somehow makes you selfish or irresponsible. I used to think everyone felt this way about money.
Ever feel like you're stuck in this weird paradox where everyone thinks you're brilliant, but inside you feel like you're constantly falling short? I've been there. Actually, I'm still there some days. After getting laid off during media industry cuts in my late twenties, I spent months wondering if maybe I wasn't as smart as I thought I was, or if being smart even mattered when I couldn't seem to get my life together.
Picture this: the wine glasses are half-empty, the main course plates have been cleared, and suddenly the conversation hits that dreaded wall. You can hear the forks scraping against dessert plates, someone clearing their throat, the uncomfortable shuffle of feet under the table. We've all been there, watching a lively dinner party deflate like a punctured balloon, everyone suddenly fascinated by their napkins or reaching for their phones.
The question itself is surprisingly straightforward: "How does this person act when they have the choice to engage with me or not?" Think about it. When someone has the freedom to choose whether to interact with you, their decision speaks volumes. Do they seek you out at parties? Do they text you first sometimes? When the conversation naturally reaches a pause, do they let it end or find ways to keep it going?
Yes and no, says cognitive scientist Tomer Ullman, the Morris Kahn Associate Professor of Psychology, who with Halely Balaban recently published a paper titled "The Capacity Limits of Moving Objects in the Imagination." If you're like most people, you probably thought about some of these things, but not others. People build mental imagery hierarchically, starting with the ideas of "person," "room," "ball," and "table," then placing them in relation to one another in space, and only later filling in details like color.
I used to think it was just good manners drilled in by strict parents, but after interviewing behavioral researchers for a recent piece on social dynamics, I've discovered there's something much deeper at play here. This seemingly small gesture-waiting for others before diving into your meal-actually reveals a fascinating cluster of personality traits that psychologists link to both personal and professional success. The research suggests these patient diners aren't just being polite; they're demonstrating qualities that make them exceptionally good friends, partners, and colleagues.
You know that song from 1987? The one you haven't heard in years? Start playing it right now and I bet you'll nail every word, every pause, every dramatic key change. Meanwhile, you're standing in front of your open refrigerator wondering if you already ate lunch today. This isn't just you being forgetful or having selective memory. There's actually fascinating psychology behind why your brain holds onto those old Backstreet Boys lyrics like precious gems while treating yesterday's breakfast like trash to be deleted.
Growing up, I remember watching my dad count out coins at the kitchen table every Sunday night. He'd separate them into little piles - rent, electricity, food - and there was never much left over. Years later, I still find myself doing the same thing with my bank balance, even though those days of stretching every pound are long behind me.
Here's the thing: being smart doesn't guarantee success. Having a fancy education doesn't either. What actually makes the difference? Emotional intelligence. Some people just get it. They pick up on tension before it explodes. They know when to push and when to back off. They make you feel heard, even when they disagree with you. And guess what? Those are the people who get promoted, build strong teams, and actually enjoy their careers.
It felt like a superpower, this ability to keep all those plates spinning at once. But here's the uncomfortable truth I discovered: that superpower was actually my kryptonite. Every time I thought I was being ultra-productive by doing three things at once, my brain was secretly running a marathon just to keep up with the constant switching. The result? Everything took longer, contained more mistakes, and left me mentally exhausted by lunch.
We've all been there, caught in that uncomfortable dance with someone who seems to have mastered the art of manipulation. Here's the thing: You don't need a confrontation or clever comeback to protect yourself. In fact, some of the most powerful ways to disarm a manipulator involve no words at all. Psychology research shows us that our nonverbal responses can completely shift the power dynamic, leaving manipulators without their usual foothold.
Loneliness has this sneaky way of making you feel like you're the only one experiencing it, doesn't it? I'll admit something: There have been nights when I've scrolled through my contacts, realizing I had no one I felt comfortable calling just to talk. Not because I don't know people, but because somewhere along the way, I'd built walls without even realizing it.
Most people think that sparking creativity is all about adding things[1]. They tend to think that the more they add to a particular venture or product or service, the better. More features-sure that will add to the creative element of the offering! More options? Yes, please! That will add choice, which will lead to better outcomes. We tend to associate more with being better. But when it comes to creativity, less is more.
Ever noticed how some people just seem unshakeable? They navigate criticism with grace, stand their ground without being aggressive, and somehow manage to stay authentic even when everyone else is playing politics. After interviewing over 200 people for various articles, from startup founders to burned-out middle managers, I've noticed something fascinating: the strongest personalities often share a common vocabulary. Not fancy words or corporate jargon, but simple phrases that reveal how they think about themselves and the world.
As Valentine's Day approaches, finding the perfect words to express your feelings for that special someone can seem like a daunting task - so much so that you may feel tempted to ask ChatGPT for an assist. After all, within seconds it can dash off a well-written, romantic message. Even a short, personalized limerick or poem is no sweat. But before you copy and paste that AI-generated love note, you might want to consider how it could make you feel about yourself.
Actually, it makes perfect sense once you understand what's really happening in your brain. After spending months unemployed following media layoffs, I became intimately familiar with this paradox. Days spent scrolling job boards and refreshing email left me more drained than my busiest workdays ever had. The exhaustion wasn't physical-it was something deeper, something that sleep couldn't fix.
Or maybe you've found yourself picking apart why someone's success "isn't that impressive" when deep down, you know you're just feeling bitter about it? I've been there. More times than I'd like to admit. And after years of digging into the psychology behind human behavior and interviewing over 200 people about their professional journeys, I've discovered something fascinating: that resentment we feel toward others' success? It's rarely about them. It's almost always about the uncomfortable truths we're avoiding about ourselves.
You know that moment when you're walking away from a conversation, and suddenly the perfect comeback hits you? Or when you're lying in bed at night, replaying an argument from earlier, and you finally think of exactly what you should have said? The French have a beautiful term for this: "l'esprit de l'escalier" - literally "staircase wit" - that brilliant response that comes to you as you're walking down the stairs, leaving the party.
