How
Dogs Can
Teach Us About New Year’s Resolutions
Scientists
have
long argued that delaying gratification requires a sense of “self.” Having
a personal identity allows us to compare who we are today, at this very
moment,
with who we want to be— an idealised self. Such aspirations are
thought to
foster the kind of behaviour that leads to self-improvement.
But new research
suggests a more primitive source of our powers of self-discipline. It
appears
that, lofty as our goals may be, we rely on the same basic biological
mechanism
for self-discipline as our four-legged best friends.
Sit and stay
Experimental
psychologist
Holly Miller and her colleagues at the University of Kentucky knew
from previous research that in people, self-control relies on the
brain’s
“executive” powers, which coordinate planning and action. It is further
known
that this kind of effortful cognitive processing requires energy in the
form of
glucose, the simple sugar that serves as the body’s fuel. Studies show
that
depletion of the brain’s glucose supply compromises self-discipline.
For instance,
passing up a tempting happy-hour drink after work may make it tougher
to forgo
your favourite television show later on that evening to exercise. Of
course,
all mental activities require energy, but self-control seems to be one
process
that is especially compromised when the energy starts running out. But
is this
a uniquely human phenomenon? To find out, Miller recruited a group of
dogs
ranging in age from 10 months to more than 10 years old. Some were
pure-breds,
such as Australian shepherds and vizslas; others were mongrels. All the
dogs were familiar with a
toy called a Tug-a-Jug, which
is basically a clear cylinder with treats inside; dogs can easily manip
ulate
the Tug-a-Jug to get a tasty reward. In the experiment, some of the dogs were
ordered by their owners to “sit” and then “stay” for 10 minutes. That’s
a long
time to sit still; it was meant to exhaust the animals mentally and
thus to
deplete their fuel reserves. The other dogs, the controls, merely
waited in a
cage for 10 minutes.
Then
all the dogs were given the familiar Tug-a-Jug, except that it had been
altered
so that it was now impossible to get the treats out. The hungry dogs could see
and hear the treats—but they could not get at them. The idea was to see
if the
previous demand for self-discipline made the dogs less, well, dogged in
working
for the treats. And it did, unmistakably. Compared with the dogs that
had
simply been caged, those that had willed themselves to stay still for
10
minutes gave up much more quickly—after less than a minute, as opposed
to more
than two minutes of effort from the controls. In other words, it seemed
as
though exerting self-discipline had used up much of the dogs’ blood
sugar
supply—weakening their brain’s executive powers and diminishing the
animals’ ability
to exert goal-directed effort.
Sugar-powered discipline
Executive powers? In dogs? These
findings suggest
that self-control may not be a crowning psychological achievement of
human
evolution and indeed may have nothing to do with self-awareness. It may
simply
be biology—and beastly biology at that. These are humbling results, so
the
scientists decided to double-check them in a different way. In a second
experiment, they recruited another group of dogs, this time made up of
Shetland
sheepdogs and border collies. As before, some of the dogs sat and
stayed for 10
minutes, whereas the others were caged. But this time half of the
obedient dogs
got a sugar drink following the exercise, whereas the others got an
artificially sweetened drink. Miller wanted to see if she could restore
the dogs’
executive powers by re- fueling their brains.
And
that is exactly what happened. The dogs that exerted self-control and
then got
replenished with sugar performed just like the dogs that had not been
exhausted
to begin with. They persisted with the Tug-a-Jug, even though it was
frustrating and demanding to do so. The depleted dogs that had not
received the
sugar drink gave up much more quickly. In short, all the dogs acted the
way
that humans do in similar situations requiring restraint and
goal-directed
activity.
So
perhaps humans are not unique—at least not in this regard. It appears
that the
hallmark sense of human identity—our selfhood—is not a prerequisite for
self-discipline.
Whatever it is that makes us go to the gym and save for college is
fueled by
the same brain mechanisms that enable our hounds to sacrifice their own
impulses and obey.

References:
Self-Control
without a “Self”?: Common Self-Control
Processes in Humans and Dogs. H.T. Miller, K.F. Pattison, C.N. deWall,
R.
Rayburn-Reeves and T.Z. Zentall. Psychological
Science (2010), volume. 21, number. 4, pages 534–538.
Dog
tired: What muts can teach us about
self-control. W. Herbert. Scientific
American Mind (2010), volume 21, number 5, pages 66-67.