baavgai: (Default)
( Jul. 1st, 2006 10:24 am)
I suppose you can file this one under "Duh": Study: Cell talkers as bad as drunken drivers. I thought they came out with something like this nearly ten years ago, but here it goes again. Hopefully people will pay more attention this time.

I have a theory that relates to "cell talkers." It goes like this:

The part of our brains that processes language involves far more mental effort than we realize. We're one for the few, if not the only, creatures that forms ideas into symbolic abstractions and then transfers those ideas to others. It stands to reason that language takes more resources than a simple fight or flight response, being a highly specialized function and not part of a common evolutionary trait.

It appears that using language dulls almost all other functions. We're not just talking about ability to focus on one thing exclusively above all others. There's something about holding a conversation, both internal and external, that forces other stimuli, and therefore our reactions to that stimuli, to become a secondary process.

While this effect is dramatic and obvious on cell phones, I believe that internal dialogs also invoke the tune out effect. Consider the stereotype of the dumb athlete. Why is it that physical and mental skills are often seen as divergent? A simple answer is if an individual excels in one area and is poor in another, they'll tend to favor their strengths and thus also emphasize their weaknesses. But could there be more to it?

There is a trick to performing optimally in physical activities and it involves not thinking. That is, a Zen type mind state, free of distracting thoughts. Thoughts, most if not all, are encoded in language. If yer language ain't good, could yer game be gooder? Who knows. Professional athletes are stereotyped as being not particularly articulate, but what if that's a hidden advantage?

I listen to music and talk radio on my long commute. Music, particularly just instrumentals or stuff in languages I don't know, is pleasant background. But pay attention to words and time blazes by, no doubt to the detriment of my driving. I recently listened to a foreign language track in the car, dutifully parroting back the words. My experience of zone out was so profound I vowed never to do that again, I didn't get hurt driving to work but the potential was obviously much greater.

So, yes, I'm the asshole who occasionally yells at people obliviously piloting their death wagons, engrossed in their mobile dialogs. I've always considered them drunk drivers and now I have a citation to justify it. There's no asshole like a righteous one; die cell powered bimbo box, die!
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