The ground-breaking social psychological experiment of Festinger
and Carlsmith (1959) provides a central insight into the stories we tell
ourselves about why we think and behave the way we do. The experiment is filled
with ingenious deception so the best way to understand it is to imagine you are
taking part. So sit back, relax and travel back. The time is 1959 and you are
an undergraduate student at Stanford University...
As part of your course
you agree to take part in an experiment on 'measures of performance'. You are
told the experiment will take two hours. As you are required to act as an
experimental subject for a certain number of hours in a year - this will be two
more of them out of the way.
Little do you know, the experiment will actually become a
classic in social psychology. And what will seem to you like accidents by the
experimenters are all part of a carefully controlled deception. For now though,
you are innocent.
The
set-up
Once in the lab you
are told the experiment is about how your expectations affect the actual
experience of a task. Apparently there are two groups and in the other group
they have been given a particular expectation about the study. To instil the
expectation subtly, the participants in the other groups are informally briefed
by a student who has apparently just completed the task. In your group, though,
you'll do the task with no expectations.
Perhaps you wonder why
you're being told all this, but nevertheless it makes it seem a bit more
exciting now that you know some of the mechanics behind the experiment.
So you settle down to
the first task you are given, and quickly realise it is extremely boring. You
are asked to move some spools around in a box for half an hour, then for the
next half an hour you move pegs around a board. Frankly, watching paint dry
would have been preferable.
At the end of the tasks the experimenter thanks you for taking
part, then tells you that many other people find the task pretty interesting.
This is a little confusing - the task was very boring. Whatever. You let it
pass.
Experimental
slip-up
Then the experimenter
looks a little embarrassed and starts to explain haltingly that there's been a
cock-up. He says they need your help. The participant coming in after you is in
the other condition they mentioned before you did the task - the condition in
which they have an expectation before carrying out the task. This expectation
is that the task is actually really interesting. Unfortunately the person who
usually sets up their expectation hasn't turned up.
So, they ask if you
wouldn't mind doing it. Not only that but they offer to pay you $1. Because
it's 1959 and you're a student this is not completely insignificant for only a
few minutes work. And, they tell you that they can use you again in the future.
It sounds like easy money so you agree to take part. This is great - what started
out as a simple fulfilment of a course component has unearthed a little ready
cash for you.
You are quickly
introduced to the next participant who is about to do the same task you just
completed. As instructed you tell her that the task she's about to do is really
interesting. She smiles, thanks you and disappears off into the test room. You
feel a pang of regret for getting her hopes up. Then the experimenter returns,
thanks you again, and once again tells you that many people enjoy the task and
hopes you found it interesting.
Then you are ushered
through to another room where you are interviewed about the experiment you've
just done. One of the questions asks you about how interesting the task was
that you were given to do. This makes you pause for a minute and think.
Now it seems to you
that the task wasn't as boring as you first thought. You start to see how even
the repetitive movements of the spools and pegs had a certain symmetrical
beauty. And it was all in the name of science after all. This was a worthwhile
endeavour and you hope the experimenters get some interesting results out of
it.
The task still
couldn't be classified as great fun, but perhaps it wasn't that bad. You figure
that, on reflection, it wasn't as bad as you first thought. You rate it
moderately interesting.
After the experiment
you go and talk to your friend who was also doing the experiment. Comparing
notes you found that your experiences were almost identical except for one
vital difference. She was offered way more than you to brief the next student:
$20! This is when it first occurs to you that there's been some trickery at
work here.
You ask her about the
task with the spools and pegs:
"Oh," she
replies. "That was sooooo boring, I gave it the lowest
rating possible."
"No," you insist.
"It wasn't that bad. Actually when you think about it, it was pretty
interesting."
She looks at you
incredulously.
What the hell is going on?
Cognitive
dissonance
What you've just
experienced is the power of cognitive dissonance. Social psychologists studying
cognitive dissonance are interested in the way we deal with two thoughts that
contradict each other - and how we deal with this contradiction.
In this case: you
thought the task was boring to start off with then you were paid to tell
someone else the task was interesting. But, you're not the kind of person to
casually go around lying to people. So how can you resolve your view of
yourself as an honest person with lying to the next participant? The amount of
money you were paid hardly salves your conscience - it was nice but not that
nice.
Your mind resolves
this conundrum by deciding that actually the study was pretty interesting after
all. You are helped to this conclusion by the experimenter who tells you other
people also thought the study was pretty interesting.
Your friend, meanwhile, has no need of these mental
machinations. She merely thinks to herself: I've been paid $20 to lie, that's a
small fortune for a student like me, and more than justifies my fibbing. The
task was boring and still is boring whatever the experimenter tells me.
A
beautiful theory
Since this experiment
numerous studies of cognitive dissonance have been carried out and the effect
is well-established. Its beauty is that it explains so many of our everyday
behaviours. Here are some examples provided by Morton Hunt in 'The Story of Psychology
':
':
§
When trying to join a group, the harder they make the barriers
to entry, the more you value your membership. To resolve the dissonance between
the hoops you were forced to jump through, and the reality of what turns out to
be a pretty average club, we convince ourselves the club is, in fact, fantastic.
§
People will interpret the same information in radically
different ways to support their own views of the world. When deciding our view
on a contentious point, we conveniently forget what jars with our own theory
and remember everything that fits.
§
People quickly adjust their values to fit their behaviour, even
when it is clearly immoral. Those stealing from their employer will claim that
"Everyone does it" so they would be losing out if they didn't, or
alternatively that "I'm underpaid so I deserve a little extra on the
side."
Once you start to
think about it, the list of situations in which people resolve cognitive
dissonance through rationalisations becomes ever longer and longer. If you're
honest with yourself, I'm sure you can think of many times when you've done it
yourself. I know I can.
Being aware of this
can help us avoid falling foul of the most dangerous consequences of cognitive
dissonance: believing our own lies.
Image credit: Darwin
Bell
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