Ed Batista

In order to better explain these concepts, Rock drew a very simple diagram of the brain showing three key elements:

– The prefrontal cortex, a small region over the forehead.
– The limbic system, a relatively large region in the center of the brain.
– The basal ganglia, a smaller region below the limbic system.

In
his talk Rock assumed that his audience understood the primary
functions of these brain regions.  To provide a little more context for
readers here, the prefrontal cortex…

And the basal ganglia…

But note that although neuroscience has advanced substantially
in recent years, there's still controversy about basic brain structures and their function.  Thus the limbic system can be described at an elemental level as…

But
anything more specific seems to be speculative. 
That said, it's sufficient for my purposes here to view the
limbic system as a constellation of related brain features that
collectively affect our emotions, particularly our responses to
perceived threats and rewards.

Rock noted that if we define the
capacity of the prefrontal cortex as equivalent to a single cubic foot,
the rest of the brain's capacity would be the equivalent of the Milky
Way galaxy.  I have questions about the science that underpins this
assertion–Is it simply a matter of counting neurons?–but I accept the
larger point Rock is making with the metaphor: The portion of our brain
that we believe to be responsible for such functions as complex
thought, decision-making, moderating social behavior and other aspects
of executive function is quite small relative to the rest of the brain,
and that has significant implications for how we interact with others.

To emphasize that point, Rock quoted Florida
State University psychologist Roy Baumeister: "We have limited
resources for activities like
decision-making and impulse control, and when we use these up we have
less available for the next activity."  (An important implication of
the resource constraint referred to by Baumeister is that we resist mental effort around
decision-making and impulse control because we're preserving resources in case
we need them more urgently in the next moment.)

First Surprise: How limited our attention is.

Our
attention
is a finite resource.  Rock stated that people typically average just
1-2 hours of focused attention
per day because the prefrontal cortex tires easily.  (Rock asked us
what we would do differently, knowing that our attention is so
limited.  I realized that I generally fail to appreciate the value of
focused attention time, and thus fail to acknowledge the dangers posed
by distractions.  Things that sap our attention or cause us to lose
focus aren't merely annoyances–they're serious productivity-killers,
and I could certainly act more decisively to resist them and keep them
at bay.)

Rock
also noted that our ability to learn is affected by the levels of
certain brain chemicals known as neurotransmitters.  Specifically,
relatively high levels of dopamine and sufficient levels of
norepinephrine are required for optimal learning conditions. 
Difficulty in learning–which could be characterized as insufficient
attention–can be eased by increasing the levels of dopamine, which
will increase our ability to focus.  One way to accomplish this is by
doing something novel, which typically raises dopamine levels
significantly.  For example, we can experience humor as novel,
particularly when it's unexpected, and thus when teachers use humor
effectively it can often enhance their students' ability to pay attention and
allow them to learn more.

An important aspect of brain chemistry
is that it's relatively hard to raise dopamine levels and relatively
easy to raise levels of brain chemicals triggered by a threat
response–specifically adrenaline and cortisol.  And increasing the
amount of adrenaline in the brain actually serves to decrease the
amount of dopamine, further hampering the learning process–thus the
importance of minimizing and/or reassessing threat responses when
learning is the goal.

An implication of the limits of our
attention (and, more specifically, the capacity of our prefrontal
cortex) relates to the Cubic Foot/Milky Way metaphor discussed above. 
Rock noted that complex problems are rarely solved via working memory
in the prefrontal cortex; studies indicate that we solve 60% of the
problems we face without knowing how we solved them, i.e. "the answer
simply occurred to me."  This is particularly important when we're
trying to innovate.  Intense, active cognitive thought involves
focusing the prefrontal cortex–the Cubic Foot–but this can often
cause us to "prime" our brain with the wrong answer, according to
Rock.  The solution is to "deprime" the brain in order to solve the
problem.  In Rock's words, "Use the Milky Way and not the Cubic Foot…
Innovation happens when you shut the heck up and stop trying to solve
the problems and let your unconscious [i.e. the Milky Way] solve it." 
(As Steve Jobs has said,
"Sometimes when you're almost asleep, you realize something you
wouldn't otherwise have noted.")

Another point Rock sought to
make in this discussion was the importance of metacognition, thinking
about thinking.  This occurs not only at a cognitive, conceptual
level–how do I think?–but also at a more visceral, immediate
level–what am I thinking (and feeling) at this moment, and is it
useful, or would I be better served by thinking (and feeling)
differently?  As Rock said, "the more metacognition you do, the more
adaptive you are."

Rock concluded this section of his talk with
a discussion of the ways in which our limited attention can be diverted
by less useful types of brain activity.  Intuitive feelings and
low-level cognitions activate relatively few neurons and generate small
amounts of electrical activity in the brain.  In contrast, cognitive
thought activates large numbers of neurons and generates more
electrical
activity, and a threat response activates even more neurons and
generates
even more electrical activity.  But, as noted above, intuitive feelings
and low-level cognitions play an important role in complex
problem-solving and innovation, so at times when we're focused on those
tasks, it's important to be able to
lower the level of electrical activity in the brain–not only by
avoiding threat responses, but also by avoiding getting trapped in
intense (yet unproductive) conscious thought–in order for us to notice
and act upon those intuitive feelings and low-level cognitions. 
Paradoxically, the ability
to stop or minimize active conscious thinking and "quiet our minds" is
an important problem-solving skill.  (Rock didn't touch on practices to
develop this skill, but I suspect that that meditation and
activities that generate "flow states" would be useful here.)

Second Surprise: How wrong we get emotions.

Negative
emotions are extremely powerful, and according to Rock, we move away
from threats much more quickly and vigorously than we move toward
rewards.  Strong negative emotions also significantly reduce
prefrontal cortex function, so a threat response diminishes our
problem-solving abilities and other executive functions governed by that region of the brain.

Many factors in the workplace create a threat
response–a topic Rock explores in greater depth in "Your Brain at
Work"–which means that we often experience strong negative emotions there (and far more frequently than we realize.)  But our typical response to negative emotions in that context is
to suppress them, because they're "not appropriate" for the workplace,
according to many organizational cultures (and our own training.) 
Unfortunately, suppressing negative emotions has a number of
undesirable consequences, from reducing memory function to raising the
blood pressure of other people around us (presumably via "mirror
neurons", which fire when we observe behaviors in others.)

A
useful alternative to suppressing negative emotions is to simply talk
about them.  As I've discussed before, research by Matt
Lieberman, Naomi Eisenberger et al has "demonstrated that linguistic
processing of the emotional aspects of an
emotional image produces less amygdala activity than perceptual
processing of the emotional aspects of the same image."  In lay terms,
talking about negative emotions helps us manage them more effectively
than merely thinking about them.

This
process, known as affect labeling, is part of a larger dynamic related
to how we respond to negative emotions.  We can't control the negative
emotions we feel, but we can exert more control over how we respond to
them, and perhaps the most significant distinction is whether we
suppress or reappraise negative emotions.  Here Rock cited the work of
James Gross, a Stanford professor of psychology known as "the
father of emotional regulation," and Kevin Ochsner, who directs the Social Cognitive Neuroscience Lab at Columbia.  Studies have shown a substantial
difference in a number of quality-of-life and effectiveness indicators
based on our tendency to suppress or reappraise negative emotions, and
reappraisal inevitably leads to better outcomes.  In response to a
question of mine, Rock said that there is some evidence that we can
retrain ourselves to reappraise rather than suppress negative emotions,
but given the importance of this factor for so many forms of personal
development and behavioral change, I'll be looking into Gross's
and Ochsner's research further in the coming weeks, and I hope to meet with Gross at Stanford next month.

If we think of the strong emotions and
other responses generated by the limbic system as the brain's
"accelerator," then we might think of the opposing forces that cause us
to reappraise a situation before a full-blown threat response kicks in,
which are generated by the ventrolateral prefrontal cortex, as the
brain's "braking system."  A dilemma related to the Cubic Foot/Milky
Way metaphor discussed above is that the resources available for
acceleration, i.e. the capacity of the limbic system, are far greater
than the resources available for braking, i.e. the capacity of the
ventrolateral prefrontal cortex.  Accordingly, we have very little
time–something on the order of 1/3 of a second–to "put on the brakes"
and intervene to reappraise a situation and our response to it.

At this point in his talk Rock
noted that we have two ways of experiencing the world around us that
tap into two separate neural networks in the brain: 1) A "narrative
circuit," consisting of the limbic system and the thinking/planning
regions of the prefrontal cortex, in which active, conscious thought
allows us to make meaning of the world in an ongoing, logical
narrative, and 2) "direct experience," a state of mindfulness in which
we're not engaged in conscious thought but rather activating our
sensory systems and taking in increased amounts of sensory data which
we don't consciously analyze but simply experience.  (I'm reminded of
Jill Bolte Taylor's discussion of her experience as a brain researcher
in the midst of having a stroke, which allowed her to
access these two ways of being in sharp and vivid contrast.)  Rock
added that the networks these systems make use of actually switch
each other off, so when we focus on one, activity in the other
diminishes.  Unsurprisingly, we tend to focus on the "narrative
circuit," which switches off the "direct experience" network, reducing
the amount of sensory data available and increasing the amount of
conscious thought, which, as noted above, increases the level of
electrical activity in the brain and potentially "drowns out" intuitive
feelings and low-level cognitions.

Given the limited time and
resources available for us to make use of the brain's "braking system,"
Rock believes it's essential to enhance our ability to operate in
"direct experience" mode, increasing the available sensory data and
allowing us greater access to intuitive feelings and low-level
cognitions that might otherwise be ignored.  To be clear, this doesn't
mean being mindful all the time, but rather being more adaptive, so we
can choose to be more mindful, activating the direct experience network
and increasing the flow of sensory data when it would be useful to do
so.

Third Surprise: The deeply social brain.

Returning
to the idea that we move away from threats more powerfully than we move
toward rewards, Rock noted that there are five social dimensions within
which we can perceive threats and rewards: Status, our position
relative to others; Certainty, our ability to predict future outcomes;
Autonomy, the feeling that we have choices and are in control;
Relatedness, the feeling that we are connected to others; and Fairness,
the sense that people will act ethically and justly.

Our brain
responds to social threats in these dimensions just as it does to the
threat of physical pain, a finding that has substantial implications
for leadership practices.  The power of our threat response means that
leaders can use social threats–those related to Status, Certainly,
Autonomy, Relatedness and Fairness–to dramatic effect.  I'm
reminded of a recent Stanford Daily article on the research of
university biologist and neuroscientist Robert Sapolsky, which noted that our
threat response evolved in a very specific context:

So leaders who rely on
threat responses may see results in the short term, but they and their
colleagues will likely pay a substantial price in the long term. 
Rock believes that it's more sustainable and ultimately more effective
for leaders to rely on social rewards rather than threats.  I agree,
but Rock's own assertion that the reward response is weaker and slower
to develop than the threat response implies that it will take more
skill, effort and possibly restraint on the part of a leader to
emphasize rewards rather than threats.

(A additional comment on Relatedness: Rock said that at a fundamental level our
brains see the world as populated by an In-Group, to which we're
connected, and an Out-Group, to which we're not–Friends and Foes, in
other words.  Strangers are automatically classified by our brains as
Foes until we share some sort of bonding experience with them that
generates oxytocin, which allows our brains to re-classify them as
Friends.)

Fourth Surprise: How attention changes the brain

The
good news is that Rock was quick to respond to questions from the
audience throughout his talk; the bad news is that this left us short
of time, and he wasn't able to address the fourth point of his thesis in detail.  Based on my understanding of his work, I assume he would have discussed the concept of
neuroplasticity, which I touch on briefly below.

Rock closed with a short list of resources where his work is available (in addition to the books and articles I cite above):
– Blog at Psychology Today
– Neuroleadership Institute
– Neuroleadership Summit in Boston, October 2010
– Results Coaching Systems, Rock's coaches training firm

In summary, I learned a great deal and found Rock's interpretation of
current neuroscience research compelling.  I even bought a copy of
"Your Mind at Work," which I've skimmed in the course of writing this
review, and I expect to dig more deeply into his work going forward.

A Note on Credibility

Rock's role as a populizer of complex and experimental
scientific research has exposed him to criticism, such as a thorough
(but unfortunately anonymous) critical review of
"Quiet Leadership" on Amazon that calls the book "psuedo-scientific
mumbo-jumbo."  Rock has clearly made an effort to associate himself
with reputable scientists, many from UCLA's School of Medicine,
including Daniel Siegel, an
Associate Clinical Professor of Psychiatry who wrote the foreward to
"Your Brain at Work," and numerous speakers at the Neuroleadership
Summit (which Rock founded and organizes), including Matt Lieberman and
Naomi Eisenberg, clinical neuroscientists at UCLA whose work I've cited before.  So despite any shortcomings in specific passages of Rock's work, I trust
that he's engaged in a good faith effort to understand the science and
represent it accurately for a lay audience.  That said, I have two
caveats.

First, in addition to the many neuroscientists speaking
at the 2009 Neuroleadership Summit, Werner Erhard spoke on "How
Language Shapes the World."  Erhard, who founded est and the Forum, and
whose work formed the basis of the subsequent Landmark Forum programs, clearly has a unique perspective on
personal growth and development.  And I know people who've attended and
benefited from Landmark seminars (and I'm aware that some
well-known management thinkers have been associated with Landmark over
the years, including Warren Bennis–another 2009 Neuroleadership Summit
speaker–and Michael Jansen.)  But I've also read a number of articles
that raise serious concerns about est and Landmark,
particularly related to methods that participants experienced as coercive and the
pressure placed on participants to sign up for additional workshops and
to recruit their family and friends.  So while I'm sure Erhard is a compelling and thought-provoking speaker, his credibility is diminished by those criticisms.

Second, while much of Rock's work with
Jeffrey Schwartz is grounded in neuroscience that seems amply
documented (at least to a layperson such as myself), in at least one instance they stray
far into experimental territory and reach conclusions that seem unsupported by research.  For example, in "A Brain-Based Approach to
Coaching," Rock and Schwartz assert that the brain is a "quantum
environment," by which they mean that it changes in response to
observation, just as particles do in quantum physics (in contrast
to the more predictable and invariable movements of particles in
conventional Newtonian physics.)  The implication, according to
Schwartz, is "what has been termed self-directed neuroplasticity, or
the ability of an individual to alter his or her own brain activity
through the active practice of focusing attention in constructive
ways."  This is a complex concept, but it's certainly one that I find
credible, and describing the brain as a quantum environment helps me to understand it.

But asked by Rock to explain this process how and why this process occurs, Schwartz takes a big (and problematic) leap:

The
problem is that
the existence of a "Quantum Zeno Effect for neuroscience research" appears to be theoretical.  In 2004 Paul Davies, a physicist at Arizona State,
published a paper titled "Does quantum mechanics play a non-trivial role in
life?" (PDF),
and
his conclusion was essentially "We don't know":

This suggests to me that while Schwartz may be accurately describing an
aspect of brain function that we can observe empirically through fMRI
images and other neuroscientific tools (i.e. that "focusing attention
holds in place brain circuits associated with what is being focused
on"), the idea that this process is caused by a "Quantum Zeno effect
for neuroscience application" is unproven.  It might be a great
metaphor and a useful teaching tool, and it might fit well with other aspects of Schwartz's or
Rock's thought, but asserting it as a proven fact seems to undermine, rather than bolster, the scientific credibility of Rock's work.

As I mention above, I do trust Rock's interpretation of current
neuroscience research, and I believe his application of its findings to
coaching offers a compelling explanation for how and why the coaching process actually works.  At the same time, it's clear that the field
of neuroscience attracts thinkers from a
wide range of backgrounds and extends into highly experimental territory.  Coaches with an interest in applying the
principles of neuroscience would do well to maintain an open mind while
also remaining skeptical of purported experts and of any far-reaching conclusions that don't seem to be fully supported by research.