Tempting the Creation of Habits

When we are used to doing something, the behavior becomes automatic.  That is, it doesn’t require cognitive effort or planning.  Consider how hard it is for a five year old to learn to tie shoes.  I’ll assume if you are reading this, you probably can do it much faster (while having a conversation, even).  When something becomes automatic, it takes less effort.  If everyday you get up and stretch, at first, it’s hard to remember and to motivate yourself.  But after a while, you can do it half-asleep.  It’s simply what you do.  It follows, therefore, that we should habitualize as many healthy behaviors as we can: drinking water, brushing teeth, washing our hands before cooking, stretching.

When routines are created, we create associations that cue us to future expectations.  The human brain is designed to notice cause and effect.  Pink and orange mean Dunkin Donuts.  The street where the Panera is means I’m about to eat some carbs.  Those associations provide cues, and we become primed (mouth drools).  For example, I rarely go to the movie theatre without ordering popcorn.  For me, this is part of the experience.  A movie theatre is a cue for those who normally eat popcorn while watching movies.  In one study, those who habitually eat popcorn at the movies ate more popcorn at a movie theatre than non-habitual popcorn eaters (Neal, Wood, Wu, & Kurlander, 2011).  This is not surprising.  However, Neal et al. manipulated another variable — whether the popcorn was stale or not.  Unlike the non-habitual eaters, the ones who usually eat popcorn seem to mindlessly eat the popcorn regardless of hunger or popcorn freshness.

That same study showed that the result of habitual popcorn eaters eating stale popcorn only occurred in the setting of a movie theatre.  When they watched movie clips in a conference room, they ate less popcorn when it was stale or when they weren’t hungry.  The setting of a movie theatre was a cue to eat popcorn.  In a second study, Neal et al. required the popcorn eaters to eat with their non-dominant hand.  This disruption also broke the habitual tendency; participants now ate less popcorn when it was stale or if they weren’t hungry.

So, to break a habit, we need to disrupt a cue.  We need to consciously make an effort to avoid cues that may tempt us to engage in our automatic tendencies.  I can’t drive blindfolded, but maybe I could avoid the way to work that passes the Panera.  Or maybe I can consciously implement what my breakfast plan is the night before.

In general, research has shown that recruiting our goal-directed (non-automatic) part of our brain is important in creating and breaking habits.  For example, in one study examining the creation of a flossing habit, half of subjects were assigned to write about when and where they would do their once-daily flossing (Orbell & Verplanken, 2010).  Those who made an implementation plan flossed twice as many days as those without an implementation plan.

Habitual behavior is neither inherently good nor bad; it is simply a powerful tendency of our brain that can turn us into iced tea junkies or flossing fanatics.  This design likely evolved to conserve scarce cognitive resources — allowing us to perform functions without thinking much about their execution.

But sometimes we need to force ourselves to think. We need to make plans, and at least try to remove the cues that lead us to suboptimal behavior (like, say, continuing to buy a bagel everyday at full price). By definition, if a great deal is what drives us to a product, then our value function for the product should change when that great deal is removed. If it doesn’t, you can bet that our tendency toward the familiar has been unconsciously factored in.

Put simply, when we don’t evaluate the cues driving our behavior — taking stock of what they are, and who is setting them — we fall prey to our worst inclinations and automatic actions. It’s something you can be sure bagel and tea salesman the world across are banking on.