When I was a kid, I liked this poem by Jean Little from her collection, Hey World, Here I Am!:
Our History teacher says, "Be proud you're Canadians."
My father says, "You can be proud you're Jewish."
My mother says, "Stand up straight, Kate.
Be proud you're tall."
So I'm proud.
But what I want to know is,
When did I have the chance to be
Norwegian or Buddhist or short?
The poem helped me appreciate that my own characteristics — which felt somehow immutable, even necessary — were highly contingent. Things could have been otherwise.
Now, as an adult and as an experimental psychologist, the poem reminds me that when it comes to our personal narratives about how we came to be the people we are today, we never get a control group. And without a control group, we should be wary of making causal claims — the kinds of claims that so often form the basis for those narratives and for our sense of self.
[For more of this story, written by Tania Lombrozo, go to http://www.npr.org/blogs/13.7/...seudoscience-of-self]
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