Are you tired of wearing glasses and disappointed that your prescription continues to get stronger every year?  It doesn’t have to be that way.  I was wearing progressively stronger lenses for my nearsightedness until ten years ago I accidentally stumbled upon a method that allowed me to acheive 20/20 vision and throw away my glasses within a year.  For the past decade I have not worn glasses or contacts, but I am able to drive, read, and see everything clearly and sharply.  The secret was learning how to actually change my eyes so that they could focus clearly on any objects — near or far, without wearing glasses.  The method I used is one of the best examples of the self-strenthening technique called Hormetism, the focus of my blog, which I’ve applied to improve my strength and resiliance in many other areas.  This is not an infomercial: The method requires several weeks or months of diligent effort, with periodic followup, and results may vary. But for this relatively small investment of time and effort, you may consider the possibility of lasting freedom from prescription lenses to be worth investigating.  It worked for me and numerous others who have tried this approach.

The problem with glasses and contacts are that they are crutches. Just like using leg crutches to help you walk when you are recovering from a broken or injured leg, glasses give you the instant gratification of being able to suddenly see clearly with eyes that have lost the ability to focus well on their own. Glasses are a quick fix indeed!  However, they don’t address the root cause that allowed your eyes to get out of shape in the first place: deformation of the actual shape of the eye. Myopia (nearsightedness) is caused by elongation of the eye; hyperopia (farsightedness) by the eye becoming shorter in length. And just as one’s leg would never fully recover, but would actually become weaker, if  you continue to use crutches indefinitely, the use of corrective lenses allows your eye to become progressively weaker — either more myopic or hyperopic, as the case may be.  The use of laser surgery may seem to be the best of all fixes, by permanently resculpting the cornea.  But the risks and complications can be significant, and continued bad vision habits can result in the need for repeat surgery.

The approach that worked for me — and which I advocate here — is the frequent and strategic use of anti-corrective lenses for several weeks or months, combined with special techniques involving simple eye exercises that will reshape the eye to achieve and maintain visual acuity.  Unlike other eye exercise techniques, such as the Bates Method, the use of anti-corrective lenses has solid experimental support from human and animal studies. By contrast, the Bates Method is based on an unproven idea that refractive errors are caused by “eye strain” and can be relieved by relaxation exercises.

The Bates Method. William Bates believed that the eye changed shaped when attempting to focus, thereby inducing muscular tension. Bates developed a number of techniques, such as “palming” and movement exercises, to help relax the eye, and “visualization” to enhance memory of colors and shapes. But according to Wikipedia:

“Despite continued anecdotal reports of successful results, Bates’ techniques have not been shown to objectively improve eyesight, and his main physiological proposition – that the eyeball changes shape to maintain focus – has consistently been contradicted by observation. In 1952, optometry professor Elwin Marg wrote of Bates, ‘Most of his claims and almost all of his theories have been considered false by practically all visual scientists.’ Marg concluded that the Bates method owed its popularity largely to ‘flashes of clear vision’ experienced by many who followed it. Such occurrences have since been determined to most likely be a contact lens-like effect of moisture on the eye.”

By contrast with the Bates Method, the method of hormetism uses controlled application of stress to induce an adapative growth response — a physical remodelling — of the shape of the eye. Support for this approach comes from extensive animal and human studies showing that the eye actually remodels neuroplastically in response to repeated focusing stimulus.  These experimental results have been synthesized into a theory known as the incremental retinal-defocus theory of myopia development (IRDT theory).  According to the IRDT theory, extensive close-up focusing of the eyes (for example by reading and wearing minus lenses) causes the image of close objects to be out of focus on the retina, resulting in biochemical processes that affect the rate of synthesis of connective tissues that control the rate of growth of retinal tissues and the shape of the eye.  The theoretical and experimental work supporting the IRDT theory is quite interesting and is explained in more detail on the Rehabilitation page of this blog, for those who are interested in the fascinating science behind this.

Anti-corrective lenses. The approach advocated here is a very specific use of anti-corrective lenses in combination with good visual habits to ensure routine variation in the use of the eyes for both up close and distance activities.  The most well documented use of anti-corrective lenses is for the reversal of myopia; in this case it is called “plus lens therapy”. Strange as it may seem, this involves wearing the opposite type of glasses normally prescribed for myopia or for hyperopia, making it initially less comfortable to focus. Specifically, so-called “plus” lenses are employed to overcome nearsightedness (myopia) and “minus” lenses to overcome farsightedness (hyperopia).   In my discussion on the Rehabilitation page, there is a more extensive discussion of the history of the use of plus lenses.

The use of anti-corrective lenses is a classic case of the five general principles of Hormetism, as outlined on the Overview page of this website:

1. the viewing distance is adjusted to simulate real-world conditions as closely as possible (i.e. the eye is actually focusing in the distance while reading a book or computer screen that is close up);
2. a constraint (an eye cover or plus lens) is imposed on the stronger eye to focus the stress on the weaker eye, and both eyes are held at the limit of their ability to comfortably focus
3. the intensity is adjusted to be somewhat uncomfortable, but still short of “failure”;
4. adequate recovery is allowed during rest periods between sessions; and
5. gradualism is observed by progressively increasing the focal range over time in order to force adaptive remodeling of the eye.

How to proceed. The clearest explanation of how to use plus lenses was given by Brian Severson, who many years ago published the key steps in his “Vision Freedom” system.  Comparing the eye to a digital camera, Severson observed that the eye will attempt to “autofocus” on any image that is slightly out of focus, but will not even attempt to focus on objects that are significantly out of focus. Furthermore, he found that the focal range can be extended by a simple technique.  Here is the essence of the technique:

Step 1. Find your starting range of focus:

“Take off your prescription lenses and put this page right on the end of your nose.  Now push the print slowly away until it becomes clear and in focus, and stop.  Now close each eye and see which one is sending the clear image to your brain.  You have just entered the range of focus of your better close vision eye.  It dominates for all close work…Now open both eyes, and slowly push the print away until the very first indication that the print is no longer perfectly clear and in focus, and stop…You have just found the limit of your range of focus for that eye”.

Step 2: Push your eyes to increase their range of focus.

For myopes, this is done by repeatedly pushing a printed page just slightly outside the range of focus, and allowing it to sharpen up or “clear”. (For hyperopes, the page is pulled closer until it blurs, then allowed to clear).  The eye gradually adapts to increase its range. This can be done with different objects at different ranges.  So it can be done with fine print close up, but also with larger objects in the distance.  It is especially useful to focus on sharp lines, such as overhead electrical transmission lines, and houses or trees with sharp edges.

For myopes, the process is best carried out by using plus lenses, the “reading glasses”, available in most pharmacies, that hyperopes typically use for close reading; conversely, hyperopes can accelerate the process by using minus lenses that myopes use for vision distance. Myopes can improve their vision by starting with the strongest plus lenses they can wear that will maintain their reading or computer just within their focal range. (Hyperopes do the converse). Typically, for mild myopia, one starts by wearing a +1 diopter lens and moving up to a +1.5 or +2 lens as soon as it becomes comfortable. If the myopia or hyperopia is extreme to the point where anti-corrective lenses do not allow a reasonable focal range, then it may be preferable or necessary to use reduced prescription lenses, i.e., lenses in which the diopter have been somewhat reduced by +1 or +2 diopters. With time and success, these can be progressively weakened, and a move can be made to anti-corrective lenses.

For the focusing exercises, one should periodically push the book or computer slightly out of focus and wait for the image to clear again. This will cause a slight feeling of discomfort, but the eye will focus as long as the distance is just slightly out of the comfort zone.  This procedure can be followed for hours or more during everyday activities such as reading and computer work, watching TV, walking or driving. The anti-corrective or reduced prescription lens diopter rating (the plus or minus number) should be selected so as to make the eyes slightly uncomfortable, while still allowing clear focusing.

If the right and left eyes are very uneven in strength, it may be necessary to match different corrections to each eye (buy two pairs and pop out and replace one side), or to cover the stronger eye with a patch or diffuser. Much as with CI movement therapy, this follows the principle of “constraint” to ensure that the primary stress is focused on the weaker eye, stimulating it to do most of the focusing, until it catches up with the stronger eye. We don’t want the weak eye to coast along with a “free ride” or only the stronger eye will benefit.

When to use the anti-corrective lenses. It is only necessary to use anti-corrective lenses for short periods of time — one to three hours each day, for the appropriate activities — to see significant progress over several weeks.  It is important to realize that the strong anticorrective lenses are only to be used for the activities for which your prescription glasses were least needed!  So for myopes, wear the plus lenses only for close work (reading and computer work); for hyperopes, wear the minus lenses when looking in the distance or across the room, but not when reading or at the computer. For myope engaging in distance activities (such as driving or viewing presentations), either no lenses or undercorrected lenses are recommended, though very mild plus lenses (less than +1 diopters) can be used when the myopia has been significantly reduced. The key is that the eye will adapt and remodel only when subjected to mildly uncomfortable stress.  If the stress is excessive, the eye gives up and no progress is made.  This principle is very similar that followed by weight lifters, who understand the importance of slight, but not excessive, overload.

Misunderstandings. Failure to understand this need to change or remove anti-corrective lenses in response to the distance of the current activity has led to some flawed studies which purported to show the ineffectiveness of plus lens therapy. One example of this is a frequently cited paper by Chung, Mohidan and O’Leary (http://tinyurl.com/chung22) which found that myopic children fitted with undercorrected lenses showed a more rapid progression of myopia than children wearing lenses with full correction. So the eyesight of these children actually got worse by using undercorrection than normal correction. This would appear to contradict the IRDT hypothesis that the eye can be stimulated via lens therapy to grow shorter in axial length, and hence reduce myopia. And this result has been repeatedly cited by others as disproving the effectiveness of plus lenses or undercorrection.

However, a re-analysis of this study by Hung and Ciuffreda of Rutgers University (http://abstracts.iovs.org/cgi/content/abstract/44/5/4791) came to a different conclusion. In addition to normal correction and slight undercorrection groups, the Hung and Ciufredda study included a group using “high-powered plus lenses”. Their analysis found that the high-powered plus lenses led to hyperopic growth (in other words, shortening of the eye’s axial length), which decreased the myopia of the children wearing those lenses. And the progression of myopia in children who wore undercorrected lenses is explained by the fact that they wore these all the time, not when just reading. This led to a diminished stimulus by facilitating accommodative focuses during “near-to-far viewing cycles”, which underminded the benefits of undercorrection. Based upon this analysis, the proper use of undercorrection would be to wear the undercorrective lenses only during long distance viewing. This is a key point!  Note that, according to the protocol of the study (Chung et al, p. 2556), “Subjects were instructed to wear their glasses all the time except during sleeping.” The fact that the undercorrected lenses were worn for close up viewing as well as distance viewing, would tend to undermine their effectiveness, according to the IRDT theory. In their summary, Hung and Ciufredda conclude:

Based on IRDT analysis, high-powered plus lens, full correction, and 0.75 D under-correction result in relative hyperopic, emmetropic, and myopic growth, respectively. Thus, the theory is able to explain these apparently contradictory findings. Moreover, the IRDT provides a consistent theoretical framework for understanding the development of myopia under a variety of experimental and clinical conditions.

So far from disproving the value of plus lenses and undercorrection, this study supports the IRDT theory for treating myopia. The conclusion should be taken as showing how NOT to use undercorrected lenses — don’t wear them for close work and reading, only for far distance viewing activities such as driving.  On the other hand, for close work (reading and computer use), wearing stronger plus lenses are effective in counteracting myopia. Based upon IRDT theory, I suppose the ideal combination would be bifocals with plus lenses for close vision and undercorrection for distance vision, or using two different glasses for these different situations.

Work without lenses. In addition to using anti-corrective lenses for close up activities (or distance activities, in the case of hyperopes), it is important to engage in frequent and deliberate near-to-far focusing exercises in daily life.  Without glasses, take some time to look intently and focus on distant objects, and alternate this with looking at close up objects.  Just as when using the lenses, try to focus on objects at the edge or just beyond of your current focal range, allowing them to “clear”. I found it most helpful to choose objects with crisply defined dark lines or borders, such as telephone poles and power lines or edges of buildings. You’ll soon notice that blurry or “double” images will begin to resolve. I remember becoming excited when I started to see crisp power lines, and billboard signs, and could eventually start to read signs at a distance.  This is one of the most motivating aspects of the technique. On the Rehabilitation page, you’ll find my speculations as to how this resolution of double images relates to the mechanisms of eye remodelling and the IRDT theory.

A final word: Be patient. Your eyes took a long time to lose their shape, and they won’t pop back into shape overnight.  Just as building muscles in the gym takes time and discipline, remodelling your eyes is a step-by-step process that takes time. Most likely, you’ll notice progress in spurts. And just like going to the gym, you will need to keep you eyes in shape by periodically using anti-corrective lenses (especially if you will be spending a lot of time reading or at the computer), and by varying your daily activities to include looking at both near and far objects. But if you stick with it, you’ll find your eyesight is improving, perhaps at a time when many of your older friends are finding their eyesight is getting worse.

If this topic interests you, please comment below,  or check out the Rehabilitation Discussion Forum., where a number of people have reported their success with using the Hormetism method for improving eyesight, manual dexterity, and other areas of overcoming the need for corrective devices.

Studies on calorie restriction in primates or humans are as yet inconclusive. Controlled primate studies only started in the late 1980s and have yet to be completed, although the preliminary indications are very promising. And in humans it is more difficult to conduct controlled studies for both ethical and compliance reasons. An additional factor to consider is that animals raised post-weaning on calorie restricted diets typically have much smaller adult body sizes that animals not restricted in their eating.  Because of the social and physical implications of this consequence, advocates of calorie restricted diets for humans advise that they be started only upon reaching adulthood.

Whether or not a restricted calorie diet extends the human lifespan, the evidence is becoming overwhelming that a nutritionally complete diet with reduced calories has the potential to greatly improve our health, particularly as we age. But is it practical and possible for humans to happily adhere to such a diet?

Monkeys on calorie restriction (left) and normal diet (right)

Benefits. The benefits of calorie restriction in animals are wide-ranging. For example, studies on rhesus monkeys and macaques at the University of Wisconsin have found that the calorie-restricted monkeys have significantly less diabetes, cancer, cardiovascular disease, and neurodegenerative diseases. Their fasting insulin and glucose levels are greatly reduced, and they have higher insulin sensitivity and excellent lipid profiles. While the study is yet to be completed, at the 20 year point, 80% of the calorically restricted monkeys were still alive, compared to only half of the controls.

In a study of humans who restrict their calories by 10-25% relative to baseline, but supplied with adequate vitamins and minerals, similar benefits have been seen, with significantly lower blood pressure, insulin, fasting glucose, triglycerides and LDL cholesterol; and significantly higher HDL cholesterol.

Mechanisms. Nobody knows for sure why calorie restriction works, but there are a number of theories with varying degrees of confirmation. They are not mutually exclusive, so it is possible that more than one, or all of them, are true:

• Autophagy (“Self digestion”) is a phenomenon whereby the cells degrade and digest damaged or non-essential contents within the cell membrane. During nutrient starvation, autophagy basically “cleans house”: it breaks down non-vital components and releases nutrients, ensuring that the vital processes can continue. How does this come about? Calorie restriction is known to dramatically lower the concentrations of insulin, IGF-1 and growth hormone. Reduced levels of these hormones in turn activates the genes and pathways for autophagy or catabolism. Basically this involves the cell producing enzymes that specifically degrade oxidized or otherwise damaged intracellular molecules. This is an interesting process.During autophagy, the  cell actually builds a special membrane encircling these damaged components, forming a “vesicle”. The cell then fuses the vesicle to the lysosome — a reservoir of digestive enzymes, and digests and removes the contents of the vesicle. This reminds me of how certain insects like spiders or wasps wrap up their prey and then digest them.  The cell is digesting and recycling accumulated “cellular junk” that would otherwise gum up its metabolic machinery, producing extra energy as a consequence.  How clever!
• Mitohormesis is defense response, which is believed to occur within the mitchondria, the energy factory of the cell.  The mitohormesis theory proposes that calorie restriction is a type of “low-intensity stress” that activates genes involved in defensive responses against aging processes such as oxidation. The mitohormesis concept has been demonstrated in studies of the worm Caenorhabditis elegans, which showed that limiting the amount of glucose being fed to the worm resulted in oxidative stress, to which the organism responded by adapting so as to resist further oxidative stress.  This extended its lifespan. The genetics of mitohormesis have started to be uncovered. Studies at the molecular level have shown that several genes in the sirtuin class, including SIRT1, SIRT3, and SIRT4, create enzymes that increase the activity of the mitochondria and slow the cell’s aging process
• BDNF. In addition to these general mechanisms, calorie restriction activates some important specific pathways in higher animals. One of the more intriguing and potentially important of these is the connection between calorie restriction and mental health.  An excellent review paper by Gomez-Panilla, linked here, documents how fasting, diet and exercise can stimulate a neuroprotective factor called Brain-Derived Neurotrophic Factor (BDNF). This key neurotransmitter plays a key role in neuroplasticity, the ability of the brain to adapt, learn and respond to stress. Depressed levels of BDNF are associated with deficits in memory and learning, and with a number of psychiatric disorders. BDNF also provides a strong defense within the brain against reactive oxygen species (ROS), and is protective against degenerative neurological conditions such as Alzheimer’s disease. BDNF is induced by calorie restriction, but also by intense exercise and omega-3 fatty acids. Conversely, it is suppressed by a high calorie diet, particularly one high in sugar and fat content. Low BDNF levels can be reversed within a few months: a study by Araya et al showed that BDNF increases significantly in insulin-resistant overweight and obese subjects after three months of a diet in which calories are restricted by 25%.

Scare tactics. First, let us be clear that nobody who is serious in the field of calorie restriction is advocating extreme calorie reduction of the sort that would lead to starvation or eating disorders. All of the responsible advocates of CR base their recommendations on the emerging science, which indicates that a calorie reduction of 10-25% versus the standard American diet, is not only tolerable, but healthful, so long as it is accompanied by adequate micronutrients — vitamins, minerals, and essential fatty acids.  Yet this has not stopped skeptics from attacking calorie restriction. A particularly irresponsible, but not atypical, example is that of Jay Phelan, whose 2006 article in the journal Biogerontology used mathematical models to argue that CR can at best deliver only modest benefits:

Calorie restriction is doomed to fail, and will make people miserable in the process of attempting it,” said Dr. Jay Phelan, an evolutionary biologist at the University of California, Los Angeles, and a co-author of the paper. “We do see benefits, but not an increase in life span.” Mice who must scratch for food for a couple of years would be analogous, in terms of natural selection, to humans who must survive 20-year famines, Dr. Phelan said. But nature seldom demands that humans endure such conditions. Besides, he added, there is virtually no chance Americans will adopt such a severe menu plan in great numbers. “Have you ever tried to go without food for a day?” Dr. Phelan asked. “I did it once, because I was curious about what the mice in my lab experienced, and I couldn’t even function at the end of the day.

Dr. Phelan’s personal “one day experiment” was ill-conceived and his conclusion is not to be taken seriously, in my opinion.  It is no surprise he “couldn’t function” after suddenly downshifting gears so rapidly.  As anyone who has taken the time to research calorie reduction or intermittent fasting realizes, a dietary change of this sort should be approached gradually, allowing time for deconditioning of previous dietary habits and hormonal responses. These changes typically take weeks or longer to become comfortable. But that does not mean that a reduced calorie diet is “extreme”. By historical standards, it would be more accurate to characterize the typical hypercaloric American diet as extreme.

Dietary alternatives. There is no single preferred mode of approaching calorie restriction. People have had success in many different ways in adapting CR to different cultural backgrounds and personal preferences. Here are a few approaches worthy of investigation if you are considering a reduced calorie diet as a means of hormetic stimulus and improved health:

• Okinawa diet. One of the oldest and best studied traditional diets is that which predominates (or used to predominate) on the island of Okinawa, Japan. This is a diet high in fish, rice, and yellow and green vegetables, many of them fermented.  The Japanese as a whole eat fewer calories than do Americans.  But the Okinawans eat even less. Compared with the average Japanese caloric intake, the Okinawa diet has:
  • 20% fewer calories
  • 25% fewer grains
  • 75% less sugar
  • 300% of level of green/yellow vegetables, especially sweet potatoes
  • small amounts of fish and pork, including pig organs
  • no eggs or dairy
• The CRON-diet (Calorie Restriction with Optimal Nutrition) was developed by Roy Walford, Lisa Walford and Brian Delaney. They advocate a plan involving three meals per day. Two of these meals are “free choice” recipes. The third is prepared in advanced according to recommended recipes to ensure adequate micronutrients. Meals are carefully weighed and assesed for calorie content. The CRON-diet is popular among members of the Calorie Restriction Society.

Intermittent Fasting. A number of studies have shown that fasting for short periods of time, generally less than 2-3 days, produce many of the same health benefits as general calorie reduction, without having to reduce the average number of calories consumed per week.  However, many adherents of intermittent fasting find that their average calorie intake tends to decrease voluntarily; in other words, they tend not to “make up for lost time” on their non-fasting days.  And many people (myself included) feel that it is psychologically more tolerable to alternate fasting with the ability to eat to fullness, rather than restricting calories at every meal.  In addition, there are some scientific arguments that favor a “cycling” approach for optimizing the secretion of hormones such as leptin, and for avoiding a long term adaptive reduction in basal metabolic rate.  If you are afraid that skipping meals will cause your metabolism to shut down and shift into “starvation mode”, dispel that thought. A study by Zauner et al in the Journal of Clinical Nurtrition showed metabolic rate actually increases during fasting up to 4 days, due to a more than doubling of norepinephrine.  So fasting for 6-24 hours hours has no downside.
There are several variations of intermittent fasting:

• Alternate day fasting (ADF) as described in a post by Dr. Michael Eades.
• Occasional fasting (for example, Brad Pilon’s Eat-Stop-Eat program of 1-2 fasting days per week)
• Partial daily fasting (for example, Fast-5, which restricts eating to a flexible 5 hour daily “window”)

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

Consider the following ten situations:

1. Drug addicts, before becoming addicted, experience the euphoria of a drug with few negative consequences. Over time, however, they develop a tolerance for the drug, requiring increasing doses to get the same high.  At the same time, their cravings and distressful feelings increase when going without the drug, leading to increased in withdrawal symptoms and a cycle of increasing drug use.
2. Firefighters and emergency room doctors have stressful jobs, but many find themselves experiencing an irresistible rush and heart-throbbing exhilaration from these fast-paced occupations.
3. New lovers, after a honeymoon period of initial infatuation, often experience a drop-off in affection, leading to dissatisfaction, fights, and sometimes breakups.  When reconciling after the breakup, they experience renewed closeness for a period of time. Typically, the more intense the infatuation, the greater the strife and negativity during the falling out periods.
4. Marathoners and other runners often experience a “runner’s high” which builds up during longer, more strenuous runs, and can extend for hours or even days after a run. Runner’s high has been associated with release of endorphins, a natural “opiate” produced by the body.
5. Infants who are given a bottle and start sucking on it experience pleasure.  But if the bottles are removed before the infants have finished feeding, they universally cry.  And yet they would not have cried if the bottle had never been given.
6. Depressed adolescents often resort to “cutting”, a form of self-mutilation that introduces some pleasure or even a high into their otherwise sad or pleasureless day.  They often find the need to increase the cutting to maintain the pleasure.
7. Scratching an itch generally relieves the itch and can be pleasurable, but often this ends up making the itch more intense and, after repeated itching, even painful.
8. Horror movies, which initially are disturbing or even terrifying, can become addictive
9. Politicians and executives in positions of power come to crave the power.  When they are out of the limelight, they experience a letdown, boredom, or even depression.  Upon retirement, this depression can lead to poor health or shortened longevity.
10. People who donate blood frequently report a sense of well being and pleasure that cannot be explained in terms of the blood removal itself.

Can you see the pattern?  In the odd-numbered examples above, pleasure turns to pain; in the even numbered examples, pain becomes pleasure. And in all cases, the effect intensifies with repetition. But why does this occur?  One possible explanation for these types of situation is described in William Irvine in his book “A Guide to the Good Life”:

The psychologists Shane Frederick and George Loewenstein have studied this phenomenon and given it a name: hedonic adaptation. To illustrate the adaptation process, they point to studies of lottery winners. Winning a lottery ticket typically allows someone to live the life of his dreams. It turns out, though, that after an initial period of exhilaration, lottery winners end up about as happy as they previously were. They start taking their new Ferrari and mansion for granted, the way they previously took their rusted-out pickup and cramped apartment for granted. (Irvine, p. 66).

Hedonic adaptation is the experience of “getting used to” a good or pleasurable thing until one returns to a state of relative indifference or equilibrium, feeling about the same as one did beforehand. As I describe in more detail on the Stoicism page of this blog, Irvine goes on to point out how the Greek and Roman Stoics were able to combat hedonic adaptation by practicing techniques such as “negative visualization”, in which they regularly took time to vividly imagine loss of people, relationships and possessions they held dear, so they could better appreciate what they had.

Hedonic reversal and habituation. While hedonic adaptation of this sort certainly exists, the ten situations I listed above are quite different than than that of the lottery winner that Irvine describes. My ten situations do not involve a return to homeostasis or equilibrium. They involve a total switch, what I will call hedonic reversal. Pleasure becomes pain; pain turns to pleasure. This is the phenomenon that Richard Solomon tries to explain in his paper.  Solomon quotes Plato, who may been the first to describe true hedonic reversal and puzzle over it:

How strange would appear to be this thing that men call pleasure! And how curiously it is related to what is thought to be its opposite, pain! The two will never be found together in a man, and yet if you seek the one and obtain it, you are almost bound always to get the other as well, just as though they were both attached to one and the same head….Wherever the one is found, the other follows up behind. So, in my case, since I had pain in my leg as a result of the fetters, pleasure seems to have come to follow it up.

In hedonic reversal, a stimulus that initially causes a pleasant or unpleasant response does not just dissipate or fade away, as Irvine describes, but rather the initial feeling leads to an opposite secondary emotion or sensation. Remarkably, the secondary reaction is often deeper or longer lasting than the initial reaction.  And what is more, when the stimulus is repeated many times, the initial response becomes weaker and the secondary response becomes stronger and lasts longer. This is what happens quite clearly in the case of addiction. After repeated administration, the original dose no longer gives the same high, so it must be increased to achieve that effect. In addition, as time goes on, abstaining from the addictive dose becomes more difficult, while cravings, anxiety and depressive feelings increase. The mirror image of this addictive pattern is apparent in the case of endorphin-producing athletic activities like running, or thrill-seeking pasttimes like parachuting. Solomon reports on a study of the emotional reactions of military parachutists:

During the first free-fall, before the parachute opens, military parachutists may experience terror: They may yell, pupils dilated, eyes bulging, bodies curled forward and stiff, heart racing and breathing irregular. After they land safely, they may walk around with a stunned and stony-faced expression for a few minutes, and then they usually smile, chatter, and gesticulate, being very socially active and appearing to be elated….The after-reaction appears to last about 10 minutes…After many parachute jumps, the signs of affective habituation are clear, and the fearful reaction is usually undetectable. Instead, the parachutists look tense, eager or excited, and during the free-fall they experience a “thrill”. After a safe landing, there is evidence of a withdrawal syndrome. The activity level is very high, with leaping, shouting…and general euphoria. This period, often described as exhilaration, decreases slowly in time, but often lasts for 2-3 hours. Indeed, I was once told by a sport parachutist…that his “high” lasted 8 hours. A new, positive source of reinforcement is now available, one that could never have eventuated without repeated self-exposures to an initially frightening situation to which the subject then becomes accustomed. (Solomon, pp. 693-8)

Thus, both the addictive pattern and the thrill pattern share the features of hedonic habituation (reduced intensity of the primary response) and hedonic withdrawal (heightened intensity of the secondary, opposite response). In surveying and studying a wide range of such experiences, Solomon found a common pattern of hedonic contrast, which he represented as follows:

baseline state → State A → State B

State A is the initial emotional or “affective” response to a stimulus, which can be either pleasant or unpleasant.  Typically, the first time a novel stimulus is applied, the primary or State A response is most pronounced at the outset and then tapers to steady level as long as the stimulus is maintained, as shown below in Figure 4.  For example, exposure to the heat of a sauna or hot tub may cause an initially hot or burning sensation, which diminishes somewhat over time. Once the stimulus is removed, the sensation is replaced by a contrasting sensation or affective state, the after-reaction, or State B.  State B is opposite in hedonic character to State A. If one is pleasant, the other is unpleasant, and vice versa. Initially, and after the first few stimulations, State B typically has a much lower intensity than State A, but often lasts longer in duration, before it eventually decays and returns to the baseline state.

What Solomon noticed is that after many repeated stimulations, the intensity of State A typically diminishes, both in peak intensity and steady state intensity. This is the hedonic habituation effect, also called “tolerance”, and it is seen with both pleasant and unpleasant affective reactions. The only way to increase the intensity of State A is to increase the magnitude of the stimulus. At the same time, with repeated exposures, the secondary affective State B often intensifies and lasts longer. This is the hedonic withdrawal effect. This combination of habituation and withdrawal effects is shown in Figure 5:  For addictions, the pleasurability of the stimulus diminishes with time and the unpleasant withdrawal grows in both intensity and duration. For the thrill-seeking or excitatory pattern, the stressfulness or unpleasantness of the stimulus is reduced with repetition, while the  ”withdrawal” becomes more pleasant and lasts longer, before returning to baseline.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————-

The opponent-process theory. So far, all we have presented is a qualitative description of some common patterns of sensory or emotional response, without any real explanation for why these patterns occur as they do. But Solomon’s real innovation is that he can explain these patterns by decomposing them into more elemental underlying biological processes. His central insight is that the nervous system is organized in such a way that any sensory or emotional response can be decomposed into two concurrent processes. The State A response diagrammed in Figures 4 and 5 above is in reality a composite of two complementary physiological processes:

• a primary process “a”, which is the direct observable response to the stimulus; and
• an opponent process “b”, which acts to inhibit or counteract the primary process.  It occurs at the same time as the primary process, but is not always evident or easy to perceive.

To understand how these processes actually work in practice, let’s look more closely at Figure 7 below. The opponent process “b” actually begins shortly after the initiation of the primary process “a” and acts to dampen it during what we observe as State A. Because “b” is both smaller and opposite in effect to “a”, it acts to reduce the net impact of “a”.  That explains why the intensity of the A process is greatest at the outset, but drops as the stimulus in continued.   According to Solomon, for a novel stimulus the “b” process is smaller and more sluggish than the “a” process.  It is slower to built to its steady state level (asymptote) and slower to decay after the stimulus stops.  This is shown in Panel A of Figure 7:

So what happens to bring about habituation after many repetitions of the stimulus, when the stimulus is no longer novel? According to Solomon, the primary “a” process remains unchanged in response to the stimulus.  What changes with repetition is the opponent process “b”.  As depicted in Panel B of Figure 7, after many stimulations:

• it intensifies
• it starts earlier (reduced latency period)
• it decays more slowly

The net impact of these changes in the opponent process is to progressively dampen the magnitude of State A and increase the speed, magnitude and duration of State B.  Thus, without any changes in the primary process, these changes in the opponent process can fully explain the increase in both tolerance and withdrawal, as shown in Figure 7.

Biological basis. Opponent processes are not just some clever hypothetical construct that Solomon came up with out of thin air. These kinds of inhibitory processes are common in biological systems.  For example, many or perhaps most neurotransmitters, hormones, and biological receptors have corresponding opposites, which act to inhibit or moderate the primary response. These inhibitory processes serve a useful biological control functions by preventing over-reactions to environmental disturbances. They form the the biological basis of systems of homeostasis, systems that enable organisms to resist or adapt to disturbances to their steady functioning.

Solomon’s opponent-process theory also identifies several key factors that can strengthen or weaken the opponent “b” process.  His paper summarizes some very clever animal research on distress behavior in ducklings, from which he deduced that the opponent process can be strengthened in three primary ways:

• increasing the intensity of the initial stimulus exposure
• increasing the duration of the stimulus
• shortening the interstimulus interval (the time between stimulus exposures)

Interestingly, merely repeating the stimulus, in and of itself, had no effect on strengthening of the opponent process if the stimulus was too weak or too short, or if the interstimulus interval was too long.  In particular, he found that, depending on the inherent duration of the opponent process, the interstimulus interval had a major effect on whether or not the opponent process will increase in strength.  According to Solomon

The critical decay duration is that disuse time just adequate to allow the weakening of the opponent process to its original, innate reaction level. If reinforcing stimuli are presented at interstimulus intervals greater than the decay duration, then the opponent process will fail to grow. (Solomon, p. 703)

Each opponent process has an inherent decay behavior, that is, a rate at which it fades away.  This will depend on the specific physiological and biological underpinnings of that process.  On a biochemical level, for example, this decay duration may depend on the half-life of the neurotransmitters, hormones, or receptor behavior involved.  It will surely also involve higher order processes which relate to the nervous system and psychological conditioning of the individual.  Figuring out the decay duration of various opponent processes should be a matter open to empirical determination.  It can be approached both by psychological investigations on others (or on oneself), and also by looking into the underlying physiological and biochemical mechanisms.

The final element of Solomon’s theory is a phenomenon he calls “savings”.  Although opponent processes can be weakened or faded away by avoiding the stimulus for an extended period of time, that does not mean they leave no memory traces. Studies show that these opponent processes are more quickly reactivated the next time they are re-stimulated. Reflexes and emotional reactions build up more quickly when reactivated than they did with the initial stimulation. According to Solomon,

Such a phenomenon is not unexpected. In alcohol addiction, for example, the abstainer is warned that one drink may be disastrous, and the reason is the savings principle. The reexercise of alcohol’s opponent-process system strengthens the withdrawal syndrome very rapidly and sets up the special conditions for resumption of the addictive cycle. Cigarette smokers report the same phenomenon: Readdiction to nicotine takes place much more rapidly than does the initial addiction. (Solomon, p. 703)

This savings effect also applies to positive opponent effects, such as the exhilaration experienced by skydivers or runners when resuming their thrilling or strenuous activities after a hiatus.  Understanding this effect is important in designing strategies for avoiding or minimizing the negative effects of relapse, as will be discussed below.

Put into simplest terms, the opponent-process theory explains the psychology of addiction and thrill-seeking in terms of the strengthening of inhibitory processes.  These inhibitory processes  get stronger when stimulation of a primary emotional response is sufficiently intense, sustained and frequent.  They become evident only when there stimulus and the primary processes are not present, and typically last for some time afterwards.   On subsequent re-exposure the stimulus, opponent processes often reactivated more quickly.

Is this a biologically realistic explanation?  Perhaps Solomon has not generated a broad enough set of hard physiological data to conclusively prove his hypothesis.  However, there is still a strong case in favor of it. First, his hypothesis provides a model which offers a coherent and consistent explanation for a wide range of  sensory and emotional behaviors for which there are few other good explanations. Second, there one application of the Opponent-Process theory–to an area unrelated to emotions–which has already been empirically verified:  the explanation of color perception. It is worth spending a paragraph on this because it provides some insights into the biological reality of this theory.

The opponent-process theory of color vision. Until the late nineteenth century, the primary theory of color vision was the trichromatic theory, which held that color perception was the result of the stimulation of three different types of cone receptors in the retina of the eye.  In 1892, Ewald Hering first proposed the opponent-process theory of color vision. He observed that any color can be uniquely analyzed in terms of the colors red, yellow, green, and blue, and noted that these four primary colors exist as the complementary pairs red-green and yellow-blue. Hering’s theory accounts for how the brain receives signals from different kinds of cone cells and processes and combines these signals in real time. The opponent-process theory of color vision received further support in 1957 in studies by Hurvich and Jameson, and in 2006 by Liapidevskii. Some of the most compelling evidence for the theory is the phenomenon of complementary color after-images, which cannot be explained by the tricolor theory.  You can demonstrate this for yourself by staring at the red dot in the middle of the image below for 30 seconds without letting your eyes drift from the center; then look at a blank white sheet and you will see the image with a more familiar set of colors. (It may take a while for the image to develop).

Looking at the colors under bright light and for longer periods enhances the opponent (inhibitory) processes in the receptors, which intensifies the after-images, just as one would predict based on the principles Solomon found for sensation and emotion.

Consider the similarity between this contrasting after-image response to visual stimuli and the emotional or affective responses that that Solomon found in his animal studies.  The sensory after-images may be less intense and of shorter duration, but the principle is the same, and both phenomena illustrate how opponent processes can arise within our nervous systems. Beyond the processing of simple nerve signals, such as those involved in visual sensory perception, the opponent process theory can account for psychological processes of increasing complexity and at multiple levels, based on the well established fact that the brain is able to integrate sensory information by adding and subtracting different excitatory and inhibitory inputs from different receptors and neurotransmitters.

Practical applications.  Besides explaining common sensory and emotional reactions, I believe the opponent-process provides some very practical guidance for how we can use pleasant and unpleasant experiences to our advantage.  This guidance can be boiled down to seven basic insights:

1. Be aware of hidden processes! The most important insight is to be aware that any primary sensory or emotional stimulus, whether pleasurable or unpleasant, will give rise to opponent processes of an contrasting nature.  Even though you most likely cannot directly perceive them, these opponent processes are happening–and even growing in strength–at the very same time as the primary emotions and sensations that you do perceive.  When the primary emotions and sensations stop or pause, these contrasting processes emerge into consciousness!  For example if you put your hand in cold water, a “warm” opponent processes is being stimulated, but you feel that warmth only once you withdraw your hand from the water. And the pleasure of overindulging in sweet desserts is likely to be followed by an unpleasant reaction that arises some time after you stop eating.
2. Avoid overexposure to pleasurable stimuli. This does not mean that you should minimize or avoid direct pleasure! Just be aware that too much of a good thing too often can backfire — and be aware WHY that is so. By remaining vigilant, you need only to moderate the intensity and frequency of pleasant stimuli to ensure that the opponent processes do not build up. For example, eating small portions of delicious foods, and spacing out meals — or even individual bites — will tend to reduce the level the opponent processes (cravings) that would otherwise reinforce appetite and cravings. When you go for that second cup of coffee, you may marginally increase your alertness in the short term, but realize that you are at the same time continuing to stimulate a reactive opponent process, counteracting the caffeine high, that may lead to increased tiredness later on.  There is a biological argument for moderation!
3. Use unpleasant and stressful stimuli to indirectly build pleasure. This is one of the most powerful insights of the opponent-process theory. By judiciously exposing ourselves to intermittent stresses, of sufficient intensity and frequency, we activate in our bodies and psyches some powerful opponent processes, which in turn result in heightened pleasure and satisfaction. Depending on the type of stimulus, these indirect pleasures can be short-lived or more sustained. Stressful or unpleasant stimuli can therefore be thought of as a form of “psychological hormesis”:  The nervous systems is activating certain pleasurable inhibitory processes in order to defend against and build tolerance to stress. These pleasure-generating defense mechanisms are real, biological processes which operate in our nervous systems. One well known example is the production of endorphins, our natural opiates, which can be produced by engaging in strenuous exercise. Endorphins literally help us to endure the pain of exercise by providing a counteracting pleasure. So by increasing the intensity and frequency of stress exposures, we are not just building tolerance–we are actively building up a sustained background “tone” of pleasurable emotions. This is very much in line with what the Stoics called “tranquility”. As explained on the Stoicism page, Stoic tranquility is not apathy or a lack of feeling!  On the contrary, it is a positive sense of equanimity, contentment, and happiness that endures and supports us.  It is the opposite of depression; you might even call it “elevation”.
4. Indirect pleasure is superior to direct pleasure. So we have learned that we can paradoxically use pain or discomfort to indirectly cause pleasure.  But is there any reason to think that the pleasure resulting from running, hard work, cold showers, or skydiving is superior to the pleasure from sweet desserts or scratching an itch? Aren’t they equivalent? Doesn’t any pleasure, whether direct or indirect, nevertheless have the potential to lead to addiction?  This is an interesting question, but I think the opponent-process theory makes the case that indirect pleasures — those that results as reactions to stress — are superior. There are two main reasons for this:  First, according to Solomon, opponent-processes are “sluggish”; they take time to build, and decay more slowly. They continue even when the stimulus stops. And unlike direct pleasures, which may be more intense, there is no sudden withdrawal reaction when they stop, hence no “craving”. They tend to fade slowly. Second, the initial unpleasant stimulus — exercise, work, cold sensations — must be sufficiently unpleasant to be effective. This initial unpleasantness will always be a “barrier” that requires conscious effort to face and overcome. If it starts to become “addictive”, it is easier to let this unpleasant barrier stand in the way. It is easy to decide not to go running or take a cold shower if one becomes concerned it is becoming too habit-forming or detrimental to one’s health.
5. Use unpleasant stimuli to counteract addictive pleasures. This is one of the most interesting, and I think unexplored, applications of the opponent-process theory. Addictions are characterized by increased cravings. These arise when opponent process build up in reaction to pleasurable primary stimuli that are too intense and frequent. The craving can become a sustained background “tone” that is always there when the pleasurable stimulus is absent. And the “savings” effect makes the opponent cravings come back more easily. But we can overpower these cravings by deliberately introducing unpleasant stimuli at the same time as the addictive cravings, in order to generate new pleasurable opponent processes. The key is to time the unpleasant stimuli to coincide with cravings or withdrawal, and make them sufficiently intense and frequent, that one builds up sufficient background pleasure tone to counteract the unpleasant anxiety that typically accompanies addictions. So fight cravings by adding a new stressful activity like high intensity exercise, cold showers, or intermittent fasting! It may also help explain why cue exposure therapy — exposing oneself to the forbidden fruit without partaking — can often be more effective in extinguishing addictions than merely abstaining or avoiding the addictive stimulus. It is possible that active cue exposure might generate a type of acute “stress” that “burns out “the original craving with an opposing pleasure. This is like fighting fire with fire!
6. Don’t abuse pain and stress. Despite the potential benefits of controlled stress and unpleasant stimuli to indirectly induce sustained pleasure or “elevation”, this approach is easy to misinterpret or apply incorrectly. Some might take this to be a justification for masochism or self-harm, but it is not. The key here is to carefully think through the consequences of one’s actions. Does the application of the stress or unpleasantness result in an objective strengthening of your body and mind — or does it lead to physical or psychological harm?  Depressed teens sometimes engage in a practice called “cutting” to relieve their depression and apathy, because it can actually reactivate pleasure or a rush that fills a gap and can become addictive. Most likely, this pleasure can be explained in terms of opponent processes that release some of the same endorphins or other neurotransmitters as exercise does. But one needs to distinguish between objectively harmful activities like cutting and beneficial habits like exercise or cold showers. Far from injuring oneself, these beneficial uses of stress and “pain” act to act to build strength, resilience, and long-term happiness.
7. Optimize your stimulation schedule. Be aware of critical decay durations and savings effects of opponent processes, for both pleasant and unpleasant stimuli. Addictions and cravings can be minimized by reducing the frequency of exposure to pleasure-triggers to allow enough time for any cravings to decay. The next time you are mindlessly wolfing down bite after bite of an addictive snack like popcorn or candy, try spacing out bites to allow the craving sensations to die off between bites and see whether you end up satisfied with fewer bites. On the flip side, if you are finding it hard to get started on a healthy habit like strenuous exercise, cold showers, or fasting, it may be that you need to increase the frequency and intensity of the new habit until it takes. According to Solomon, it will become increasingly pleasant if you do this.

Since becoming aware of the opponent-process theory, I applied it to myself in two instances recently:

• On the pleasure side, I reduced my craving for alcohol by drinking less frequently, and limiting the amount that I drink.   The pleasure remains, but the daily cravings have disappeared. I’ve documented this on the Discussion Forum of this blog.
• On the pain side, I have increased my enjoyment of cold showers by never missing a day, by lengthening the showers, and by making sure to expose my most sensitive body parts to the coldness.  This has significantly increased the pleasure I feel, and it comes on more quickly while in the shower (within 10-15 seconds, versus previously more than a minute) and the warm, exhilarating post-shower feeling lasts all morning.  I’m happy all the time, and I definitely feel less stress.

Think about how this might apply to your own situation. Are there pleasures in your life that tend to result in cravings when they are absent? Can you think of ways to introduce healthful but somewhat unpleasant stress into your life in a way that builds your resilience and at the same time a deeper level of satisfaction and sustained pleasure?  Can you use this indirect pleasure to displace cravings or dissatisfaction? And in both cases, how aware are you of the relationship between the intensity and frequency of the stimuli, and the tendency to foster opposing processes that turn pleasures into pains, and pains into pleasures?

The potential applications are infinite!

Models of addiction. There are a number of different views of what addiction is. The medical model views addiction as a disease, focusing on the biological aspects of physical or psychological dependency. This view typically confines the idea of addiction to cases of substance abuse and dependency, and attempts to pinpoint the basis for addiction in terms of changes in brain circuitry and the chemical action of reward neurotransmitters such as dopamine and serotonin. The medical model also highlights the biological reality of withdrawal symptoms when the addictive substance is removed. A second model, the psychiatric model, looks at addiction somewhat more broadly as a manifestation of unresolved psychosocial or emotional conflicts that lead to compulsions or poor impulse control; often this is broadened to include the family, social or cultural context. A third model, which we might call the autonomy model, rejects the medical and psychiatric models as too deterministic and incompatible with the existence of free will.  This model takes addiction to be fundamentally a question of personal responsibility and choice. Finally, behavioral models do not necessarily take a position on the origins of addiction, but look instead at how addictive behaviors can be modified and eliminated. Of course, there are many variations and combinations of these models of addiction.

Varieties of treatment. Depending on which model is favored, different treatments variously emphasize medical detoxification and the use of pharmaceuticals; individual, family, group or residential rehabilitation counseling; recognition of personal responsibility; or various modalities of behavior modification. Under the medical model, pharmaceuticals are often prescribed for detoxification and the relief of cravings.  While drugs may in fact help reduce cravings in the short term, they can create their own problems of side effects and substitute addictions. Antagonist drugs, which block receptors for “reward” transmitters such as dopamine, are often unpleasant and create incentives to quit or circumvent treatment, and they invite relapse once they are discontinued. Typical success rates for drug and alcohol detox rehab programs, which combine medical detox and psychological or psychiatric treatment, have been cited to be as low as 2-20 percent. One such program, Narconon, claims a success rate of 76%, but this figure has been challenged as being vastly overinflated and based upon methodologically flawed statistics. As with many similar programs, Narconon insists on the importance of getting treatment away from the normal work-home environment: :

One thing is for sure if you are trying to break a habit such as drug addiction, a change of environment should be at the top of the list as far as solutions. Due to these factors, attending a drug rehab close to home is seldom the correct treatment option for chronic drug abusers. It is extremely therapeutic to be distanced from the people they used drugs with, drug dealers, and the surroundings that can continue to stimulate their past addictive behaviors.

As we’ll see shortly, it is precisely this key assumption that is questioned by cue exposure therapies.

Behavioral therapies. In essence, behavioral approaches look at addictions primarily as conditioned behavioral patterns that are strongly reinforced, but from which the addict nevertheless still has some motivation to escape. Behavioral therapies tend to divide into two camps: those which employ classical and operant conditioning to directly modify behavior by changing the reinforcement patterns; and those which supplement the conditioning techniques, or replace them entirely, with a cognitive element, following the model of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT).  The cognitive element typically involves actively thinking about ones behavior, and reflecting on whether or not it is based upon rational or empirically valid assumptions. For example, CBT may treat depression, anxiety, or phobias by challenging an individual to consider whether one’s worst fears are in fact likely to happen, what one is giving up by maintaining the present behavior, and what one stands to gain by stopping it.  Often meditation, mindfulness, and notions of self-efficacy are involved in these cognitive approaches. Examples of the application of CBT to addiction are Alan Marlatt’s Relapse Prevention Therapy and also his Mindfulness therapy; and Aaron Beck’s Cognitive Therapy of Substance Abuse.

However, overcoming addiction may not be all that susceptible to “reasoning” and reflection. Addictive cravings are often incredibly powerful and tend to overwhelm rational thinking.

Cue exposure therapies. There are two very different approaches to treating addiction by behavior modification:  stimulus avoidance and cue-exposure therapies. While they are both considered “behavioral” treatments, they are in fact polar opposites! The stimulus avoidance therapies involve training the individual to avoid exposure to the stimulus. In practical terms, this means abstinence. It  is the approach taken, for example, by Alcoholics Anonymous. A core assumption of AA is: “Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic”.  Those who take this view claim that it is impossible, or highly risky, for an alcoholic ever to return to moderate drinking. AA has a good success rate, but it tends to require a strong “spiritual” commitment, and can be sabotaged by relapse if the recovering alcoholic or addicts takes even a single drink.

There is an emerging area of research, however, which takes issue with the stimulus avoidance school of thought, and supports the idea that addictions can be replaced by normal responses to behavioral cues, using cue exposure therapy, sometimes called response prevention therapy.  And even more radically, the treatment works best if carried out in the most realistic context of the daily life patterns of the addict.  This completely contradicts the central assumption of Narconon in the above quote!

For a full explanation of the psychological basis and technical terminology of reinforcement theory, I would recommend reading the Psychology page of this blog, which provides useful background on the work of Pavlov and current applications by behaviorists such as Daniels and Pryor in the use of cue exposure as a general method for extinguishing behaviors.  In short, the essence of cue exposure therapy is to extinguish the addictive behavior by allowing the addict to be exposed to normal cues or stimuli that typically precede the addictive behavior, but preventing that behavior from getting underway. This clearly leads to significant discomfort and even withdrawal symptoms in serious cases.  However if repeated frequently enough, and in the presence of a sufficient variety of cues and contexts, cue exposure therapy can be very successful in extinguishing addiction.  Even more importantly, there is evidence that is is successful in preventing relapse over the longer term.

Furthermore, cue exposure therapy is a general approach to addiction treatment. It works not only in treating “chemical” addictions of substance abuse, but addictive behaviors more generally.  There are studies showing its effectiveness with treatment of drug and alcohol addiction, tobacco addiction, and eating disorders. For example, using cue exposure and response prevention, combined with gradualism may be more effective than going “cold turkey” for learning to permanently stop smoking. Other studies show that cue exposure therapy is more effective than a “self control” based cognitive behavioral approach in treating bulimia.

What makes cue exposure succeed? Despite encouraging data of the effectiveness of cue exposure therapies in both addiction cessation and relapse prevention, it is not always successful. A recent review article in the journal Addiction, by Conklin and Tiffany of Purdue, provides an excellent meta-analysis of 18 cue exposure therapy for treating a range of addictions–including treatments for addiction to alcohol (N=5), nicotine (N=5), cocaine (N=1), and opiates (N=6).  The review includes a careful analysis of why cue exposure therapies in many cases fail, why they often succeed, and what specific factors determine their degree success. Conklin and Tiffany not only review the clinical and field studies with human subjects, but also cite the most current animal research on addiction extinguish to buttress their analysis. This is an academic paper, but clearly written and accessible to the intelligent layperson. For anyone struggling with addiction and willing to consider cue exposure therapy, I highly recommend reading this paper carefully to absorb its many insightful lessons.

The cue exposure treatment studies varied considerably in their design and execution. In about half of them (mainly the drug studies), the participants were abstinent during cue exposure.  In one study (with alcohol dependence),  a moderate drinking goal was encouraged by providing “priming” doses of alcohol, with the the prevention of drinking more than one drink, and this behavior was practiced both “inpatient” and as outpatient “homework”.  Cue exposure varied from real “in vivo” cues to surrogate video, audio, and even “imaginal” cues just pictured in the mind.  The frequency of cue exposure varied greatly — from a single cue exposure (e.g. smelling a glass of alcohol for 3 minutes) within a single session, to multiple, frequent exposures per session over 10 consecutive days of cue exposure sessions, to periodic exposure sessions spaced in time over weeks, with follow up over 6-12 months.

In their review article, Conklin and Tiffany identify 4 main “threats to success” (and corresponding success factors) that explain both why cue exposure did not work well in some cases and where it either was, or could be made, more effective.  Before summarizing these success factors, I think it is important to note one key insight they highlight regarding recent learnings from animal research:

Rather than simply trying new things in an effort to discover the optimal parameters for use in cue-exposure addiction treatment, ideas for improving treatment can be directly informed by recent animal learning research focusing on extinguishing learned behavior…ideas about extinction have changed considerably since cue exposure was first introduced as a treatment for addiction. For many years, extinction training was believed to lead to a weakening of the initially condition CS-US association…However current concepts about extinction resemble more closely the original ideas of Pavlov (1927), who postulated that repeated unreinforced exposure to the CS does not break the original CS-US learning, but rather serves to mask it…Therefore, the conventional notion that extinction is unlearning has been replaced with the position that extinction is new learning, that is, during extinction, CS-US learning remains intact, but new associations develop to the original CS. (p. 159)

This is a crucial insight!  The original addictive response to stimulating cues will never die by itself, merely by not reinforcing those stimuli.  Rather, it is important to learn new behavioral responses to those old cues which come to “mask” or dominate the the old responses.  Cue extinction is an active process, not a passive one!

Now let’s turn to the specific threats to the success of cue extinction which have been identified by Conklin and Tiffany:

1. The renewal effect occurs when a behavior is successfully extinguished in one limited context or set of cues, but re-emerges in response to a different context or cues. This is a common problem in treatment, because the treatment context often differs in significant ways from the “real world”.  Conklin and Tiffany give the example of a heroin addict who gets inpatient extinction treatment in a hospital room, but resumes shooting up at home–a different context, with different cues. The same conditioned stimulus (CS)– for example seeing or handling drug paraphernalia, or being stressed–can acquire a different “meaning” in the two different settings. Cues can be rich, subtle and varied: the action of lighting a cigarette with a match, handling of drug equipment, or the smell, the size and feel of surroundings, people, and the time of day. There are a number of important ways to deal with this problem.  First, the extinction training should as much as possible occur in the “original conditioning context”, that is the real-world context in which the addiction was acquired and has been developed.  Second, given the fact that most addictions are reinforced by a rich set of cues and multiple contexts, the extinction training should occur in several distinct contexts, and then re-tested in the original context.  According to the authors, “Apparently, whereas conditioning generalizes readily, extinction is largely context-dependent”. (p. 160).
2. Spontaneous recovery occurs merely with the passage of time, even when a behavior is initially extinguished successfully.  The addiction can re-emerge by itself days, weeks, or months after being apparently terminated. Dealing with spontaneous recovery requires consideration of the “temporal spacing” of cue-exposures. Here, the authors cite a number of animal studies for guidance. In one such study, extinction occurred more rapidly and successfully when the cues were given as a series of short exposures over time instead of as a single “massed” presentation. Other studies found that extinction success was optimized by allowing longer intervals of time between exposure sessions, combined with more frequent in-session exposures. This was also reflected in the human studies. Based on this research, Conklin and Tiffany give the following guidelines:
   • Within each session, the cue should be presented several times to ensure complete extinction of “responding”, defined as as subjective desire or objective physiological or behavioral response
   • Within-session exposures should be separated by enough time to allow some recovery of responding between exposures
   • Enough time should be allowed between sessions to allow for spontaneous recovery of responding, and therefore further extinction at each session
   • The number of extinction sessions needed depends on the individual’s pattern of responding, which can vary considerably among individual subjects
3. Reinstatement occurs after a conditioned stimulus (CS) has been extinguished, by presenting the unconditioned stimulus (US) alone.  For those not familiar with this terminology (which is described in more detail on the Psychology page of this blog), the US is the immediate agent that produces the addictive “high”, e.g. the drug, tobacco, alcohol or food itself, whereas the CS is any cue which becomes associated with it, e.g. seeing or handling a bottle or cigarette, or visiting a bar or drug dealer. So in reinstatement, the former addict has learned not to respond to the environmental context and cues, but for one reason or another encounters the addictive substance in a new context, re-igniting the addiction anew and leading to potential relapse after even a single new exposure.  Here, the research on prevention is very interesting. Relapse in such situations can apparently be prevented or quickly cut off by immediately exposing the lapsed addict to unreinforced exposure to the new context alone (without the US).  So if your addiction to sugar or alcohol is re-ignited by inadvertently or unwittingly consuming a food that stealthily contains this offending substance, expose yourself to eating other foods (without the addictive substance) in the same place and with the same cues, on more than one occasion, and the relapse will be forestalled.
4. Behavioral cue conditioning is one of the more subtle, but insidious threats to successful extinction. If the addiction is based upon classical conditioning (that is the addictive behavior is a direct “conditioned response” (CR) to one or more conditioned stimuli (CS), then deconditioning by extinction training has an excellent chance of success.  However, in many cases of addiction the CS indirectly elicits behaviors that precede the direct addictive response, and these behaviors themselves act as secondary “discriminant stimuli” which provoke the addictive response independently of the CS.  For example, for an alcoholic, the CS may be a bottle of booze. By the principles of classical conditioning, the appearance of the bottle can be extinguished as a cue for the urge to drink (the CR or conditioned response), by exposing the alcoholic to the bottle and not allowing drinking. However, in the normal context, the alcoholic engages in certain active routines or behaviors, such as pouring the alcohol into a glass, handling the glass, drinking from the glass, etc. These behaviors in themselves serve as independent cues, beyond appearance of the bottle itself, that stimulate the desire for the alcohol.  So it is not just the sensory stimuli that need to be extinguished, it is also the behavioral cues.  Overlooking this reality turns out to be a major flaw of many of the less successful treatments reviewed by Conklin & Tiffany. In these flawed treatments, the cue exposure sessions dealt with sensory cues alone. The authors found the best treatments involve extinction of active behaviors.  For example, one study had smokers actually light cigarettes and take non-inhaled puffs.  Another study had heroin addicts go through an actual cook-up procedure and handle all their paraphernalia, without allowing follow-through to actually administering the drug. While to an adherent of the “abstinence” approach such therapies may seem unduly risky, the science actually supports such realism as being the most effective way to immunize an addict against relapse.

There is some recent evidence from a study by researchers at McMaster University and the University of California at San Francisco that takes this approach even further.  In cases where the goal is moderation and not abstinence, it is important the the cue exposure involve actually take small doses (e.g. one drink), while preventing any follow up drinks, to re-train the response.  This is based on observations that addicts or alcoholics respond to a small dose as a cue that “more is coming”. Without this type of conditioning, there may be increased risk of relapse.  Again, “you get what  you train for”.

Conclusions. In short, cue exposure therapies will not work if they are confined to small number of artificial exposures within a single limited context, especially if it is significantly different from the context where the addictive behavior was “learned”.  The exposure should be rich and varied, repeated both within a cue exposure session and at subsequent sessions while allowing an adequate time interval both between in-session exposures and between separate sessions to allow “responding” or partial re-emergence of the desire or craving. Cue exposure therapy should not involve mere passive exposure to sensory cues but should  include a realistic “behavioral” component which is practiced without allowing the reinforcement itself to occur. Finally, it is important to keep in mind that extinction is not a matter of passively “unlearning” an old behavior by just not responding, but actively learning new substitute behaviors for responding to the original cues and contexts; adding a degree of “counter-conditioning” is useful here (see the discussion of counter-conditioning on the Psychology page of this blog.

What does this mean for you? Is there an addictive behavior or a bad habit you would like to overcome?  Are you willing to try cue exposure therapy.  If so, observe and think about the sensory and behavioral cues that precede your behavior and how you could design your own cue exposure sessions to help extinguish the behavior.

What does this mean for me? I stated at the beginning of this post that I would do something unusual. Rather than writing this post purely as a scientific report or as an “advice column” to others, I am going to put it to the test on myself.  In the tradition of self-experimentation inspired by Seth Roberts, I am going to put my money where my mouth is and try it on myself.  I have used cue extinction already as the basis for deconditioning myself from having a strong appetite for food (at certain times of day), for cutting back significantly on certain favorite desserts (such as ice cream), and for giving up caffeinated coffee (but still enjoying the occasional cup of decaf).  However, I retain a certain fondness for alcohol.  I’m not an alcoholic and and don’t believe I have a drinking problem, but I drink more than I would like to and find myself craving certain drinks before dinner almost nightly. My favorite drinks, in order, are: (#1) B&B cognac liquor on the rocks; (#2) Manhattan cocktail; (#3) beer; (#4) red wines, especially Pinot Noir.   About a year ago, I cut back to a frequency of 1-2 drinks per week, but recently this has crept up to a nightly drink, and I find myself really looking forward to it after work.  It is a real pleasure and stress reliever, and I don’t want to cut back, but I know I should.

So you’ll find a record of my experiment, starting today (Thursday, April 14), on my personal page on the Discussion Forum.  At this point, my goal is not total abstinence, but cutting down to a maximum of 1-2 drinks on 1-2 nights per week. Wish me luck!

Other than recommending this book as a great vacation read or a way to rekindle your passion for running, I’d like to concentrate here on one of its central claims about the biomechanics of barefoot running, because it resonates so strongly with the thesis of Hormetism and Edward Tenner’s theories about the “revenge effects” of technology — and because it has implications that extend well beyond the sport of running. McDougall’s seemingly paradoxical assertion is that running without shoes makes one less susceptible to injury than using modern engineered running shoes, with their high-tech cushioning. Says McDougall: “Running shoes may be the most destructive force ever to hit the human foot.” (BTR, p. 168)   …How can this possibly be true?

Perhaps the most controversial thesis of McDougall’s book is that humans evolved to be long distance runners, and that at some point in our evolution as hunters we exploited this ability to actually run down large game such as antelope–animals that could outsprint us for short spurts, but would eventually tire and give up.  McDougall cites some archeological and biometric evidence, but I’m not so sure I buy this, and I’m somewhat skeptical and weary of the constant invocation of evolutionary arguments to explain just about everything related to diet, health and fitness. It’s just that it is so difficult to verify these speculations, so  I happen to prefer more testable explanations based upon physiology. And in the area of physiology, I believe that McDougall is onto something. The idea that adding padding or protection can hurt or injure us seems to be a paradox–at first glance.  But if we can understand why protective armor has this effect, perhaps it can teach us something about human adaptation that extends beyond the domain of running.

Shoes and foot injuries. Among the many experts McDougall cites, Stanford track coach Vin Lananna has a certain credibility when he states: “I can’t prove this, but I believe when my runners train barefoot, they run faster and suffer fewer injuries…We’ve shielded our feet from their natural position by providing more and more support…If you strengthen the foot by going barefoot, I think you reduce the risk of Achilles and knee plantar fascia problems.” (BTW, p. 169-170).  Dr. Barry Bates, who directs the University of Oregon’s Biomechanical/Sports Medicine lab, gathered data showing that the cushioning on shoes does not reduce impact on the legs, but may actually promote injuries. To gain insight into why this should be so, consider another study reported by McDougall, this time from McGill University, showing that gymnasts landing on a mat instinctively adjust their landings based on the thickness and softness of the mat in order to achieve balance upon landing. The same thing happens when we run with cushioned soles: “your legs and feet instinctively come down hard when they sense something squishy underfoot. When you run in cushioned shoes, your feet are pushing through the soles in search of a hard, stable platform.” (p. 173). These adjustments are part of the proprioceptive or “body awareness” sensory system that is built into our neuro-muscular physiology. The story is otherwise when running barefoot on a hard surface:

To see pronation in action, kick off your shoes and run down the driveway. On a hard surface, your feet will briefly unlearn the habits they picked up in shoes and automatically shift to self-defense mode; you’ll find yourself landing on the outside edge of your foot, then gently rolling from little toe to big until your foot is flat. That’s pronation–just a mild, shock-absorbing twist that allows your arch to compress.  (BTW, p. 176)

And according to Dr. George Hartmann, a physical therapist trainer to long-distance runners, pronation is a actually good thing, not the defect it has been made out to be by many:

Your foot’s centerpiece is the arch, the greatest weight-bearing design ever created. The beauty of any arch is the way it gets stronger under stress; the harder you push down, the tighter its parts mesh. No stonemason worth his trowel would ever stick a support under an arch; push up from underneath, and you weaken the whole structure. Buttressing the foot’s arch from all sides is a high-tensile web of twenty-six bones, thirty-three joints, twelve rubbery tendons, and eighteen muscles, all stretching and flexing like an earthquake-resistant suspension bridge…I’ve worked with over a hundred of the best Kenyan runners, and one thing they have in common is marvelous elasticity in their feet. That comes from never running in shoes until you’re seventeen. (BTW, pp. 176-177).

So the explanation here is clear: Our skeletons, musculature and nervous systems are highly refined and well-coordinated adapative systems which adjust both instanteously and by means of longer term adjustments to in order handle the terrain.  These “proprioceptive” adjustments take place virtually beneath the level of consciousness, through the exquisite feedback systems of our body and brain. Try to circumvent these systems, and the protective mechanisms will weaken, exposing us to injury.

I’ve checked this out, and McDougall doesn’t seem to be cherry-picking the research to support his biomechanical thesis.  My informal survey of other research found additional supporting evidence:

• A study by Harvard’s Daniel Lieberman et. al, in the prestigious journal Nature, entitled “Foot strike patterns and collision forces in habitually barefoot versus shod runners“. The study found that “habitually barefoot endurance runners often land on the fore-foot (fore-foot strike) before bringing down the heel, but they sometimes land with a flat foot (mid-foot strike) or, less often, on the heel (rear-foot strike). In contrast, habitually shod runners mostly rear-foot strike, facilitated by the elevated and cushioned heel of the modern running shoe. Kinematic and kinetic analyses show that even on hard surfaces, barefoot runners who fore-foot strike generate smaller collision forces than shod rear-foot strikers. This difference results primarily from a more plantarflexed foot at landing and more ankle compliance during impact, decreasing the effective mass of the body that collides with the ground.”  To see how this works in action, take a look at blogger Karen Given’s interview of Lieberman, who teaches her how to run barefoot and demonstrates how dramatically this reduces the collision forces on her foot and body:
• A review by Warburton in the Australian journal Sportscience, of foot injuries, which found that “Wearers of expensive running shoes that were promoted as correcting pronation or providing more cushioning experienced a greater prevalence of these running-related injuries than wearers of less expensive shoes (Robbins and Gouw, 1991). In another study, expensive athletic shoes accounted for more than twice as many injuries as cheaper shoes, a fact that prompted Robbins and Waked (1997) to suggest that deceptive advertising of athletic footwear (e.g., “cushioning impact”) may represent a public health hazard. Anthony (1987) reported that running shoes should be considered protective devices (from dangerous or painful objects) rather than corrective devices, as their capacity for shock absorption and control of over-pronation is limited. The modern running shoe and footwear generally reduce sensory feedback, apparently without diminishing injury-inducing impact–a process Robbins and Gouw (1991)  described as the “perceptual illusion” of athletic footwear. A resulting false sense of security may contribute to the risk of injury (Robbins and Gouw, 1991).  Yessis (2000, p.122) reasoned that once the natural foot structures are weakened by long-term footwear use, people have to rely on the external support of the footwear, but the support does not match that provided by a well functioning foot.
• Additional studies and commentary, summarized in an article “Should you be running barefoot?” in Runner’s World, by the aptly named Amby Burfoot.  Burfoot’s article has a nice historical overview of great barefoot runners over the past century.
• Barefoot Ken Bob, a somewhat whimsical website devoted to barefoot running as an avocation, which includes research, practical advice, and announcements of upcoming barefoot races.

Finally, here is short video clip that gives a fairly simple explanation of barefoot running technique, featuring aficionado Barefoot Ted, who will be familiar to readers of Born to Run:

This research regarding the adaptive capacity of the foot coheres nicely with the overall thrust of Hormetism, in its confirmation that strengthening of our capabilities proceeds by progressive, periodic exposure to stress, to an appropriate degree and at a rate that allows us to adapt. It may seem paradoxical to some, but the fact remains that our strength is frequently compromised when we resort to crutches or corrective devices in the (misguided) attempt to shield or cushion ourselves from discomforts and shocks.

Technology and paradox. These findings about barefoot running are actually part of a much larger lesson about the paradox of injury, muscular weakening and other adverse consequences that come from an over-reliance on the protective technologies. This larger thesis is in fact the story of a much larger book published originally in 1996 by Edward Tenner: “Why Things Bite Back: Technology and the Revenge of Unintended Consequences“. You might think that a book with that title would be an anti-technology rant. But this book is not that, it is rather an insightful and even amusing look at technology, written by a technophile who does appreciate the benefits of technology, but at the same time was drawn to probe this puzzling downside to our over-reliance on technology. He has pulled together a wide-ranging survey and analysis of what he calls the “revenge effects” of technology, attempting to explain why it is that technologies often backfire in ironic and unexpected ways that tend to undermine their effectiveness. Such a book could go on for volumes if one wanted to catalogue every possible instance of the perverse effects of technology, but Tenner wisely limits his focus to several probing chapters on a handful of especially illuminating fields: medicine, environmental engineering, pest control, the computerized office, and sport. And while he has interesting things to say in all these areas, I would like to pick up specifically on his discussions of sports injuries, which are particularly relevant to generalizing our understanding of the paradox of barefoot running.

Tenner’s discussion covers a wide range of different sports, from high contact sports like boxing, rugby and football, to seemingly benign recreational sports, like running, skiing and tennis.  Football is illustrative of the evolution of a once intensely violent sport. In 1905, a year when there were 23 deaths in intramural collegiate play, President Theodore Roosevelt threatened to ban the sport unless the rules were changed regulating allowable conduct. Later, in 1939, plastic helmets were introduced and after World War II they entirely replaced the thin padded leather helmets used until that point. But this had an unexpected effect:

Where plastic helmets were adopted, players intent on using maximum force to stop an opponent began to use their headgear, with the mouth guard that soon accompanied it, as a battering ram. This intensifying tactic all too often had its own unintended consequence: spinal fracture and paralysis…What seemed to be a technological solution had become an extension of the medical problem…The NCAA banned aggressive use of the helmet in 1976, and injuries dropped…Spearing, the use of a helmet in place of the shoulders to knock down an opponent, is now banned but is still widespread, and not just in professional play.  (WTBB, p. 217)

So protection led to intensification of injury, but this was moderated by additional rule changes. So far, so good. But this reduction in acute injuries was replaced by a more insidious problem, chronic injuries:

While there are fewer catastrophes, most of which result from spearing and other dangerous practices, serious injuries have actually increased with the spread of better protective equipment. From the First World War through the 1950s, only four in ten professional players per season reported injuries that needed surgery or resulted in prolonged absence from the game. By the 1980s, seven in ten were seriously hurt each season, according to a study by the NFL Players Association…The game’s “ballistic” style calls for brief but powerful bursts expressed as joint- and vertebra-jarring collisions far more severe than those of Theodore Roosevelt’s day. The helmets, face shields, mouthpieces, and padding are better than ever, and deaths may be rare, but neither protective nor conditioning technology can prevent damage to the joints. Since massive injections of anti-inflammatory drugs and painkillers make it possible for battered athletes to return to play, the new intensity means trading immediate relief for long-term disability…Knee and hip surgery can extend players careers, but usually only at the price of later pain, inflammation, and repeated rounds of surgery. (WTBB, pp. 218-219)

Football is certainly not unique in this regard.  For example, Tenner makes a similar points about skiing:

The replacement of wood by plastics and composites in the 1950s changed and extended the sport just as dramatically as lifts had done earlier in the century. Gone were the rituals of waxing. And on the way out, it seemed at the time, were the broken bones that once formed part of the folklore of skiing. At first, the new equipment shifted some of the injury from ankle fractures (common with lower prewar boots) to twisting fractures of the tibia. A fall often led to this spiral break of the bone. Then came further improvements. New, rigid plastic boots and bindings employing strong, lightweight alloys were designed to release the legs of skiers at a predetermined level of force…To the extent that skiers are risk seekers, they will respond to safer equipment and more carefully maintained slopes by seeking more dangerous runs and increasing their speed….Protection also leads to greater risk-taking in the slalom event, where skiers voluntarily use protective gear, including helmets, to take a straighter course down the slope…In the days of wooden skiis, the cast-encased leg was a cartoonist’s cliche, but with some reason….ACL sprains now account for up to six injuries a day at large resorts and up to 100,000 annually in the United States. Surgeons can usually repair a torn MCL by stitching ends together: a sprained ACL demands much more difficult techniques, including tendon grafts. (WTBB, p. 224).

The basic message in all of the above is that as protections have increased, injuries have not gone away, but have shifted from the acute to the chronic, and in many cases chronic injuries that are more enduring and difficult to deal with. This message is consistent with the point made on the Rehabilitation page of this blog about the downside of “crutches” such as canes, orthodics, and even eyeglasses.  The difference, in this case, is that these protective aids defeat our intentions in a different context than that of rehabilitation. Instead of impairing our recovery from disability, these protective aids instead make us vulnerable to injury.  (While the distinction between prevention and recovery is important, there is actually the interesting case of Michael Sandler whose RunBare blog documents his story of how he used barefoot running to overcome a serious shattered leg injury, transforming himself from being unable to walk, to running barefoot 80-100 miles per week!)

Protections such as extra support or cushioning no doubt make us safer in certain respects. But while guarding against the strong shocks that can cause acute injury, these very protections can mask the sensory inputs that our body uses to adjust and adapt internally–both in the instant and over time. In doing so, we are making ourselves vulnerable to repetitive stress or other low level chronic injuries that, over time, can become at least as serious, if not more so, than acute injures, because the healing process is not as straightforward.

Lessons. So where does this leave us, and what should we do about it?  Should we always run barefoot and forgo all the protections of padding and modern protective technology when we engage in challenging physical activities like sports? I certainly would not advocate that. But I think the key point here is to be conscious of what we give up by relying on artificial external protections, especially if it means decreasing our reliance on our own internal musculature and nervous system.  We should be wary of getting too far away from contact with our raw senses and physical exertions whenever we pick up a piece of protective athletic equipment, clothing or footwear, and we might consider how to make internal strengthening and perceptual sharpening an essential part of our conditioning when we train and prepare for athletic performance or even to enhance our ability to navigate the ordinary physical challenges of daily life, such as climbing stairs, or lifting groceries or children. In short: beware of “labor saving” devices; the labor you end up saving may actually be have been useful or necessary to your well being!

What do you think?  Please leave your comments below, or visit the Discussion Forum.

The starting point of Mastery is that we live in a culture at war with the proper understanding of mastery. From movies, commercials and popular culture, we tend to see life as an uninterrupted series of successful climaxes, without consideration of the effort, pauses, or setbacks that will be inevitably encountered.  We expect a certain level of excitement and interest in any experience, or we become quickly bored. We adopt a quick-fix and bottom-line mentality. In our work life and even at home, we are told to set goals, to measure our advances, and to expect continuous progress towards our goals. And even happiness itself is defined in terms of reaching those goals.

Presciently, Leonard also noted that this “antimastery” attitude applies not just to us as individuals, but as a nation.  Keep in mind that these words were written almost two decades before the recent global financial crisis:

Our present national prosperity is built on a huge deficit and trillions of dollars worth of overdue expenditures on environmental cleanup, infrastructure repair, education, and social services–the quick fix mentality. The failure to deal with the deficit goes along with easy credit and the continuing encouragement of individual consumption at the expense of saving and longer term goals…But our time of grace might be running out. In the long run, the war against mastery, the path of patient, dedicated effort without attachment to immediate results, is a war that can’t be won. (Mastery, pp. 36-37).

Leonard portrays common attitudes towards attempting to master new skills or challenges in the guise of three personas.  These character types are to some extent caricatures, but if you think about, you may find within yourself one of them.  Which one best describes you?

1. The Dabbler, who approaches each new sport, hobby, job opportunity or relationship with enthusiam, but loses interest once initial progress slows or a setback is encountered.  Then it is on to the next interest.
2. The Obsessive, who is intensely goal-oriented and results-focused, and pursues mastery with intensity and dogged persistence, making rapid initial progress.  When setbacks are encountered, the Obsessive redoubles the effort and pushes forward without mercy. But because this cannot be sustained, ultimately the crash comes and burnout follows.
3. The Hacker, who is much more laid back about learning new things than the Dabbler or Obsessive, and is content to stay on the plateau indefinitely, just “hanging out” in a certain comfort zone. The Hacker does avoid getting frustrated, but at the same time is unwilling to invest real effort and hard work in the practice, never pushing, and never really progressing.

For Leonard, mastery is not about reaching perfection, but rather comes from maintaining a particular mindset as you move along the path of improvement in building your skills or overcoming challenges in any endeavor.  He adeptly describes the “mastery curve” :

Learning any new skill involves relatively brief spurts of progress, each of which is followed by a slight decline to a plateau somewhat higher in most cases than that which preceded it…the upward spurts vary; the plateaus have their own dips and rises along the way…To take the master’s journey, you have to practice diligently, striving to hone your skills, to attain new levels of competence. But while doing so–and this is the inexorable–fact of the journey–you also have to be willing to spend most of your time on a plateau, to keep practicing even when you seem to be getting nowhere. (Mastery, p. 14-15).

This fact of devoting much of your time on plateaus or even backsliding may be frustrating or dispiriting if you are hellbent on bottom-line progress. But the person on the path of mastery not only acknowledges the plateau, he embraces it and learns to love “practice” for its own sake and rewards. I think this advice can be of great help to those of us struggling with plateaus in the effort to get fit, lose weight, or advance in other ways.

It’s hard to select just a few of the lessons from such a rich and wise book.  Because Leonard is a talented writer, instead of paraphrasing him, I’ll pick quotes from four chapters that I think are especially useful for working to improve your strength in any chosen endeavor.

Chapter 6: Practice

To practice regularly, even when you seem to be getting nowhere, might at first seem onerous. But the day eventually comes when practicing becomes a treasured part of your life….Ultimately, practice is the path of mastery. If you stay on it long enough, you’ll find it to be a vivid place, with its ups and downs, its challenges and comforts, its surprises, disappointments, and unconditional joys. (Mastery, p. 79)

Chapter 7: The Edge

The trick here is not only to test the edges of the envelope, but to walk the fine line between endless, goalless practice and those alluring goals that appear along the way…Playing the edge is a balancing act. It demands the awareness to know when you’re pushing yourself beyond safe limits. In this awareness, the man or woman on the path of mastery sometimes makes a conscious decision to do just that. We see this clearly in running, a sport so pure, so explicit that everything comes into full view…Many people run not to lose weight but to loosen the chains of a mechanized culture, not to postpone death but to savor life. (Mastery, pp. 99-100).

Chapter 10: Why Resolutions Fail–and What to Do About It

Backsliding is a universal experience. Every one of us resists significant change, no matter whether it’s for the worse or for the better. Our body, brain and behavior have a built-in tendency to stay the same within rather narrow limits, and to snap back when changed…Be aware of the way homeostasis works…Expect resistance and backlash. Realize that when the alarm bells start ringing, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re sick or crazy or lazy or that you’ve made a bad decision in embarking on the journey of mastery. In fact, you might take these signals as an indication that your life is definitely changing–just what you’ve wanted….Be willing to negotiate with your resistance to change. (Mastery, p. 107-115).

Chapter 13: Mastering the Commonplace

Our preoccupation with goals, results, and the quick fix has separated us from our own experiences…there are all of those chores that most of us can’t avoid: cleaning, straightening, raking leaves, shopping for groceries, driving the children to various activities, preparing food, washing dishes, washing the car, commuting, performing the routine, repetitive aspects of our jobs….Take driving, for instance. Say you need to drive ten miles to visit a friend. You might consider the trip itself as in-between-time, something to get over with. Or you could take it as an opportunity for the practice of mastery. In that case, you would approach your car in a state of full awareness…Take a moment to walk around the car and check its external condition, especially that of the tires…Open the door and get in the driver’s seat, performing the next series of actions as a ritual: fastening the seatbelt, adjusting the seat and the rearview mirror…As you begin moving, make a silent affirmation that you’ll take responsibility for the space all around your vehicle at all times…We tend to downgrade driving as a skill simply because it’s so common. Actually maneuvering a car through varying conditions of weather, traffic, and road surface calls for an extremely high level of perception, concentration, coordination, and judgement…Driving can be high art…Ultimately, nothing in this life is “commonplace,” nothing is “in between.”  The threads that join your every act, your every thought, are infinite.  All paths of mastery eventually merge. (Mastery, p. 141-150).

These last words by Leonard about mastery of the commonplace are among my favorite.  Reading this chapter led me to see things in a new light, to slow down, to deliberately take more time and be more patient getting through the day. Obstacles such as getting stuck in traffic or encountering angry or irritating people are no longer seen as frustrations, but rather opportunities for practicing our skills of calmness, persistence, kindness, and good humor.  Peforming daily tasks, with care, responsibility and in “good form” also resonates with the Hormetic principle of “constraint”, or practicing without cheating or compromising in form, so as to train the correct behavior.

Leonard’s advice that we pay careful attention to the quality of our actions and attitudes in everyday tasks, brings to mind the perspective of the ancient Stoics that we should concentrate our focus on “internals” — the character of our thoughts and actions, the things in life over which we have the most control.  By contrast, the Stoics considered “externals”–our dealings with others and the world around us–as not so very significant in and of themselves, and as not fully within our control.  Externals were to be considered merely as “materials” or opportunities for us to demonstrate and perfect our character–to master ourselves. And in fact, plateaus in our progress can be thought of as an excellent example of externals that are thrown at us.  These give us an opportunity to test our stoicism and sharpen it. Just as we can increase our physical strength by testing ourselves against progressively greater physical stresses, we can become emotionally and spiritually stronger by adopting Leornard’s attitude towards mastering the commonplace, by welcoming every challenge as a chance to get better at living life.

Does this ring true in your own attempts at mastery?

As one form of hydrotherapy, the health benefits of cold water therapy are numerous.  Cold showers provide a gentle form of stress that leads to thermogenesis (internal generation of body heat), turning on the body’s adaptive repair systems to strengthen immunity, enhance pain and stress tolerance, and ward off depression, overcome chronic fatigue syndrome, and stimulate anti-tumor responses.

Some people advocate starting with a warm shower, and switching over to cool or cold water only at the end of the shower. This is fine, particularly if you are afraid that a pure cold shower would just be too uncomfortable or intolerable.  But I prefer just jumping right in. When you start with cold water, you will experience the phenomenon of cold shock, an involuntary response characterized by a sudden rapid breathing and increased heart rate. This in itself is very beneficial. The extent of cold shock has been shown to decrease with habituation, and exposure to colder water (10C or 50F) appears to be more effective than just cool water (15 C or 59F) in promoting habituation. The habituation itself is what is most beneficial, both objectively and subjectively. There is an analogy here with high intensity resistance exercise and interval training, both of which elevate heart rate and lead to long term adaptations to stress, with improved cardiovascular capacity and athletic performance.

But cold showers provide a different and probably complementary type of habituation to that which results from exercise. A study of winter swimmers compared them with a control group in their physiological response to being immersed in cold water:  Both groups responded to cold water by thermogenesis (internal production of body heat), but the winter swimmers did so by raising their core temperature and did not shiver until much later than the controls, whereas the control subjects responded by shivering to increase their peripheral temperatures. The winter swimmers also tolerated much larger temperature differences and conserved their energy better. Other studies confirm that the benefits of habituation show up only after several weeks of cold showering. For example, adaptation to cold leads to increased output of the beneficial “short term stress” hormones adrenaline and thyroxine, leading to mobilization of fatty acids, and substantial fat loss over a 1-2 week period.

So regular cold showers, like high intensity exercise, and intermittent fasting, appear to provide similar, but not identical hormetic benefits.

But now I’d like to focus on the subjective experience of taking cold showers, something not commented on in many of the studies I’ve read. If you follow my approach and plunge right into a cold shower, you’ll get the initial “cold shock” mentioned above:  a quickened pace of breathing and a pumping heart.  Often I find myself involuntarily smiling or even laughing.  For waking up, this beats caffeine. I keep the water cold the whole time. It helps to brace yourself when entering by gritting your teeth and stiffening your muscles. Go in head first and alternate from back to front to make sure you are getting cold all over, including your hands and arms and any sensitive zones. After about a minute, you’ll find the cold water starts to become more tolerable, and after 2 or 3 minutes you’ll feel your body getting warm by its own efforts. This is thermogenesis. I make a point of staying in the shower until I’m no longer uncomfortable.  I found that at first my hands were the most sensitive part, and now they are no longer as sensitive, so they have habituated.

When I started taking cold showers, I measured the water temperature at around 60 F (16 C), but over time I have reduced this somewhat to 50-55 F (10-13C) as my body has adapted. (You can determine this by bringing into the shower a plastic cup and meat or candy thermometer and collecting some water once the temperature equilibrates).  Of course, depending on where you live and the season, there is a lower limit to how cold you can go, but in general you should be able to get at least as cold as 60F in most places. Also, my cold showers used to be very short, maybe 4 or 5 minutes, but now they last as long as my previous warm showers, perhaps 10 minutes.  I still take the occasional warm shower, perhaps once every week or so, but I prefer the cold ones.

I find that cold showers are great for the mood.  Not only are they physically invigorating, they make you feel alive, vital and ready to take on the day. They stimulate thinking early in the morning. I also believe that they have the effect of slightly raising blood glucose very quickly — by perhaps 10 mg/dl, and thereby have an appetite suppressing effect. Generally, this rise in blood glucose is relatively short in duration, but that’s good enough to prime the pump and get the day started.  This effect of cold showers works well with my practice of skipping breakfast most days and often fasting until dinner.

These effects are apparent with the first cold shower. If you continue the practice for several weeks, you’ll find the psychological benefits are even greater. First and foremost, cold showers appear to have improved my stress tolerance, by buffering emotional reactions. What I mean by this is that bad news, surprises, arguments, or events that would have previously caused a brief surge in adrenaline or an emotional flush, no longer have that effect, or at most have a very attenuated effect.  I think this is a consequence of becoming acclimated to the the adrenaline-producing effect of the cold shock.  A deeper explanation of why cold showers are effective in boosting mood, and why the psychological benefits of cold showers increase the longer and more frequently you take them is addressed in my recent post on the opponent-process theory of emotions.

As with any application of Hormetism, you can experiment with the intensity of cold, the duration, and the frequency of cold showers to improve your tolerance at a tolerable rate.  If you find that your heart is beating uncomfortably fast or you are going numb, that’s a good reason to ease into the routine more slowly.  But don’t sell yourself short and rush through a cold shower, because you may find that extending a few more minutes provides the greatest benefits in adapting your body to tolerate stress. Not just cold stress — but physical and emotional stress in general.

1. Flavor-calorie dissociation as advocated by Seth Roberts in his Shangri-La Diet
2. Sensory-specific satiety, as advocated in David Katz’s Flavor Point Diet
3. Tastants, another approach to sensory-specific satiety, as advertised in Alan Hirsch’s Sensa Weight-Loss Program.
4. Odor inhalers, a third approach based on sensory-specific satiety, as described in Alan Hirsch’s book Scentsational Weight Loss, and marketed by him as ”diet pens” offered by SlimScents

At first, some of these approaches appear to be mutually incompatible. The Shangri-La theory argues that strong or familiar flavors enhance appetite when they become associated with caloric foods.  The other three approaches, by contrast, claim that intense flavors or aromas suppress appetite, based upon the principle of “sensory-specific satiety”, whereby an increase in the intensity of a single flavor or odor induces satiety. However, on closer examination, all of the above theories are consistent with one another, as I will try to show. Furthermore, they each provide some useful clues about how to achieve a long term weight loss and relief from hunger cravings by paying attention to the role of flavor and other food cues.  Finally, as I will attempt to persuade you, only one of the above diets is truly a type of Deconditioning Diet that can lead to long term, permanent reduction in appetite, based on the principles of Hormetism.

This post is one of the longer, more complex ones I’ve written so far. It’s almost like a full chapter in a book.  For that, I apologize. But if you hang in there and try to follow the twists and turns in the science, I think at the end of this post you’ll find that certain puzzle pieces start to fit into place, leaving us with a framework that helps us to figure out some truly effective new methods of controlling appetite and weight. If  you want to skip to the punch line, you can find the simple explanation at the bottom of this post, below the dotted line, under the heading “A Unified Explanation of Flavor Control Diets” and “Lessons Learned”.  But for those who want to understand the science, read on….

I’d like to briefly review these weight loss programs and the underlying theoretical explanations for two reasons. First, I think that while the diets are useful, the explanations offered as to why they work are in several instances incorrect. I believe that the insulin response theory of appetite provides a more adequate explanation, and one which resolves the apparent contradiction between the two theories. Second, and more importantly, I think the insulin response theory of appetite, in combination with the philosophy of Hormetism, provides a scientific basis for the Deconditioning Diet.  As detailed on the Diet page of this website, the Deconditioning Diet is a weight loss program that offers the prospect of permanent and lasting changes to appetite and long term weight loss without dependence on consuming or using specific dietary agents or devices, such as is required by all four of the above flavor control weight loss methods.

The Shangri-La Diet. I credit Seth Roberts’ book by this name for first making me aware of the connection between flavor, appetite and weight control.  I tried the diet and it works.  I lost 10 pounds rather easily by using Roberts’ concept of flavorless calories to suppress appetite. Roberts discovered his diet while vacationing in France.  He tried some French sodas with “unfamiliar” flavors and found they suppressed his appetite almost totally. He found himself skipping meals or forgetting to eat, and he lost weight on the trip. He hypothesized that it was the unfamiliar flavors in combination with the calories from sugar that led to his appetite suppression. When he got home, he figured out that consuming sugar water with no added flavor would be as effective and simpler than using unfamiliar flavors.  Consuming daily fructose water left Roberts hungry enough to eat only “about one meal every two days”, and he steadily lost about 2 pounds a week, dropping from 185 to 150 pounds in short order. He satisfied his desire for non-caloric flavors by drinking tea and chewing gum, and his desire for texture by consuming  small portions of crunchy or chewy snacks like apples, nuts, or jerky.

Roberts then generalized his diet to stipulate ingesting small 200-calorie doses of flavorless calories, at least an hour before or after any meal.  “Flavorless” in this case means undetectable by the nose.  The sweetness of sugar appears not to count as a flavor, because it is detected only on the tongue and not by the nose.  (A test of whether something is a flavor is that it will become undetectable if you pinch your nose while tasting.  Sweetness, saltiness, and sourness are detected by the tongue only).  So besides sugars like sucrose and fructose, Roberts found that vegetable oils work well, particularly low flavor oils like extra light olive oil (ELOO) and certain nut oils.  On his website,  Roberts hosts a forum where an on-line community of SLD diet followers have extended the methodology to include variations such as “nose clipping” (wearing a nose clip or pinching your nose to suppress flavors while eating regular foods) or formulating various flavorless drinks and meals.  The SLD diet has clearly been successful for a great number of people,  many who have found it to be the least painless way to regain control of their eating and lose a large amount of weight, with great flexibility, no restrictions on the types of food you can eat, no calorie counting, and no sense of deprivation.

Roberts’ theory of weight control can be summarized as follows:  Foods with a weak flavor-calorie association will lower your body fat set point and cause you to lose weight; foods with a strong flavor-calorie association will do the opposite. He supports his theory of flavorless calories with evidence from the usually disparate fields of weight control (physiology) and associative learning (psychology). From weight control theory, he draws on the lipostatic theory of Gordon C. Kennedy.  Kennedy conducted experiments with rats in the 1950s which suggested that weight or body fat is homeostatically controlled to a relatively constant “set point”. When rats were fed less calorically dense food, they first lost weight, but then adjusted by eating more of the low-cal chow to re-establish their “set point”, just as a thermostat will turn on a heater whenever the temperature of the building drops below its set point. Kennedy’s experiments were backed up by similar studies in other animals and humans. In particular, Roberts cites a series of experiments by Dr. Michel Cabanac, a physiology professor at Laval University in Quebec. Cabanac worked with human subjects, who generally find glucose water pleasant to sip. Cabanac slowly pumped glucose water directly into the stomachs of his subjects, and then had them sip sugar water. For the subjects who had sugar injected into their stomachs, the sipped sugar water became less pleasant, and they felt full. In a follow up experiment, subjects first lost 8 pounds by just eating less of their usual diet, then the glucose injection experiment was repeated.  This time, the injected glucose water no longer reduced the pleasantness of the sipped sugar water, and the subjects remained very hungry. Roberts takes this to indicate that the increased appetite of this second group was caused by their actual weight being below their “set point” weight. In a further experiment, Cabanac found that letting subjects consume as much as they wanted of a restricted bland liquid diet let to significant weight loss without hunger.  And one of Cabanac’s students found even faster weight loss and appetite suppression by directly injecting the liquid nutrition through a stomach tube. This suggested to Roberts that flavors raise set point, and lack of flavor (as in direct injection of sugar or food to the stomach) reduces set point.

From associative learning, Roberts draws upon the very work of Pavlov that I have cited (for different reasons) on the Psychology page of this site.  He cites several experiments that appear to establish the general principle of flavor-calorie associative learning.  In one study with rats, Dr. Anthony Sclafini, a psychology professor at Brooklyn College in New York, allowed rats to drink water with two different flavors.  Whenever they sampled Flavor 1, a caloric starch compound (Polycose) was injected into their stomachs, but when they drank Flavor 2, plain water was injected into their stomachs.  The rats developed a strong preference for Flavor 1, and this preference persisted several days even after the injections were stopped.  Since they could not “taste” the injected Polycose, Sclafini and Roberts take this to provide flavor-calorie associative learning.

Putting these two lines of research together, Roberts concludes that consuming calories with familiar or strong flavors tends strengthen flavor-calorie association and preference for those flavors, and will raise the weight set point, whereas consuming flavorless calories or calories with unfamiliar flavors tends to reduce both the flavor preference and the set point.  Roberts and his followers have used the hypothesized connection between flavor-calorie association and body fat set point to make predictions and extend the diet. For example, Roberts predicted and confirmed that appetite suppression and weight loss can also be achieved by consuming foods with unfamiliar flavors, so one variation of SLD is to add “crazy spices” to foods to break the flavor-calorie association, or by using nose-clipping to suppress detection of flavors while eating.

However, the success of the SLD diet in itself does not prove that Roberts’ explanation for why it works is correct. I believe that Roberts explanation is incorrect for several reasons:  (1) the set point theory is not empirically testable;  (2) Roberts learning theory is based on a misunderstanding of Pavlov’s theory of associative learning; (3) Roberts’ learning theory makes several false predictions and fails to explain other facts about weight loss; (4) there is an alternative explanation for why SLD works that can better explain these other facts about weight loss.  I’ll take up these criticisms in order.

Lipostatic set point theory of weight control. According to Roberts, if you weigh less than your set point, “you will be hungry and think about food” and the bigger the gap, “the more you will think about food, and the more food it will take to feel full when you eat.  It is nearly impossible to weigh much less than your set point for a long time–the hunger becomes unbearable.”  (SLD, p.9) Similarly, if you weigh more than your set point you will not be hungry and “When you eat, you will feel full rapidly.” It is apparently not your weight, but your body fat content, that is compared with a set point. “When your body-weight regulatory system detects that you have less fat on your body than your set point, it makes you more hungry than usual between meals and increases how much food you need to eat to feel full.” (SLD, pp. 41-2)

And yet the lipostatic set point does not seem to operate like temperature set point on a thermostat. Whenever the temperature is below the thermostat set point, the heater turns on immediately, or after a short delay. And whenever the temperature is above the set point, the heater never turns on–until temperature drops on its own, or with the assistance of air conditioning. But this is not the case with body weight “set point”. When you weigh 8 pounds less than your set point, you don’t eat continuously in one session until the set point is reached. Likewise if you weigh 8 pounds more than your set point, you don’t totally stop eating until your weight drops to the set point level. Instead, most people have a certain rhythmic frequency of eating alternating with not eating. Something else regulates this rhythm of meals even when we far from set point. (As I’ll suggest below, that “something” is the hormone insulin).

Roberts acknowledges that set point is not fixed, and he posits that your set point is directly influenced by what you eat. He explains that between meals, your set point goes down gradually, and the higher your set point, the faster it goes down. But, according to Roberts, your weight goes down faster than your set point, which is “why not eating causes hunger–and why diets that deprive you of food don’t work.” Eating foods with flavor-calorie association will immediately raise set point; and the stronger the association, the greater the increase in set point.

But this is an odd sort of set point that is never really set! The very thing that is controlled by set point (eating) itself causes the set point to change. It is as if a thermostat setting were itself influenced by the temperature in the house, rather than by the intentional decision of the house occupants. The set point concept starts look very flexible, with a lot of external influences and circular feedback loops. (It reminds me of how epicycles were added to the Ptolemy’s geocentric theory of the solar system in order to explain the apparent zigzagging of observed orbits of plants and stars around the earth, until Copernicus eventually came up with the simpler heliocentric theory in the 16th century). If set point is always changing, how could you verify this? It just seems like a convenient theoretical entity that can never be proven or disproven. Roberts’ claim that highly flavored caloric foods cause weight gain because they are “high set point foods” is an example of this circular reasoning.

There is also one other weird aspect of the lipostatic theory of weight control.  It seems to commit us to the view that each of us has a “natural” set point weight or fat mass, which we cannot change.  Unless, that is, we following the Shangri-La Diet and we commit ourselves to eating bland foods, at least periodically–forever. If we are born with a “fat” set point weight and eat flavorful caloric foods, we are destined to get fat. Naturally thin people who can eat flavorful foods are just lucky, because…they are born with a low set point.  Somehow, I doubt this.

This does not mean we should throw out the concept of a set point.  We just have to pick a physiologically verifiable set point.  True examples of set points and homeostasis are blood pH and body temperature which are controlled in a narrow range, under normal circumstances. There is not anything that you can do to alter these set points, and nor would you want to do so. Fevers, hypothermia, and ketoacidosis are indicators of disturbance or pathology, and the organism works hard to restore temperature or pH to the healthy set point values in such cases. Furthermore, the physiological basis of these homeostatic mechanisms for regulating body temperature and blood pH are well known. So I think that extending the set point concept to such a variable quantity as body weight is neither legitimate nor useful, and there burden of proof should be on its advocates to demonstrate an empirical basis for it.

Roberts does acknowledge physiology when he claims that set point is related to the concentration of leptin in the in the bloodstream:

In order to regulate the amount of body fat, the brain must be able to know how much body fat you have, just as a thermostat needs a built-in thermometer to keep track of the room temperature. Leptin serves as the brain’s body-fat thermometer: The concentration of leptin in your blood tells your brain how much fat is in your body. Leptin is produced by fat cells. When your body fat goes up, so does the amount of leptin in your blood.  When your body fat goes down, leptin goes down.  (SLD, p. 143)

This is getting closer to a bona fide physiological explanation. In fact, I agree that hormones drive weight control, I just think that Roberts has chosen the wrong hormone. There are two problems with choosing leptin. First, while leptin does play a key role in signalling satiety to the brain, it is not the whole story. First, the leptin signal does not always work. People can become resistant to leptin.  The brain can’t always “hear” leptin even when it is elevated, leading people to overeat. This is especially true with obese individuals.  The leptin signal can also be blocked by ingesting a meal high in carbohydrates, since carbohydrates lead to high triglyceride levels in the bloodstream, and this can block the leptin signal, again leading to overeating. Furthermore, leptin is not the only player in hunger signaling. The brain integrates the signal from leptin with that of other appetite signallers, including hormones such as ghrelin, and neurotransmitters such as neuropeptide Y, serotonin, dopamine and various opioids.  We need to look further up the stream to the root cause of hunger, not the “messengers”.

Another problem with the leptin theory is that is inconsistent with at least two observational facts:

1. The observed variability in body weights in the population. Leptin is known to increase in fat individuals and decrease in lean individuals.  So lean individuals, who have lower levels of leptin, should be hungry and want to eat more, until their leptin reaches a “satiating” level.  However, that would seem to rule out the existence of lean people. Everyone should eat until their leptin level reaches the “normal” level.  And yet that is absurd, because most lean people are not ravenously hungry.  That implies that every individual can have a different “normal” leptin level.  That is in fact the case, but then it removes leptin as a homeostatic regulator of weight or body fat.
2. The suppression of hunger observed during extended fasting. After an initial period of cravings, light-headedness or other hypoglycemic response, people who are fasting for extended periods of 12-24 hours or longer commonly report appetite suppression and a surge of energy.  This cannot be explained by the lipostatic set point theory or Roberts version of it. To repeat what I wrote above, according to Roberts, your weight goes down faster than your set point, which is “why not eating causes hunger–and why diets that deprive you of food don’t work.” But if weight is dropping faster than set point during fasting, your hunger should increase monotonically, that is, it should get steadily more intense, without dissipating.  Yet that is not what happens.  After a period of adjustment, as insulin drops, glucagon rises along with adipose tissue lipase, and adipose tissue begins releasing free fatty acids into the bloodstream, while the liver breaks down glycogen into glucose and proteins into glucose via gluconeogenesis.  So a constant level of glucose in the bloodstream is restored, and there is no sense of deprivation or “unbearable” hunger.  Most people who fast, including myself, find it quite pleasant.  I think the bad rap on fasting comes from people who have not studied the physiology of fasting and either haven’t tried it, or haven’t given their bodies enough time to adapt.

The glucostatic theory. There is a much better alternative to the lipostatic theory of hunger and weight regulation:  namely, the glucostatic theory of Jean Mayer, as it has been developed into a fuller theory of the homeostatic regulation of blood glucose by the hormone insulin. While there are many hunger signaling compounds, ultimately these signals are either responding to or predicting what is happening or likely to happen to blood glucose concentrations. In the glucostatic theory, there is also a set point that controls hunger, and it is blood glucose concentration. According to the glucostatic hypothesis, there is no body fat “set point” that our body attempts to defend, no “natural” level of fatness or leanness. This is evidenced by the fact that it is possible to gain or lose a lot of weight and main these changes. Whether we are fat or lean, our body strives to maintain glucose concentration within a physiologically tolerable range of about 70 to 150 mg/dL. Below that level, hypoglycemia sets off hunger pains, headaches and–in extreme cases–shock and coma. Above that level, there can be both acute problems with high blood glucose and chronic problems with elevated blood glucose, leading eventually to hyperinsulinemia and diabetes. There is an excellent discussion of the glucostatic and lipostatic theories of weight control in Chapter 24 of Gary Taubes’ Good Calories, Bad Calories, delineating further problems the lipostatic theory.

This is not to say that weight is not remarkably stable in most people for long periods of time. But this stability is not the result of homeostatic control.  Rather than being a “set point”, body fat may be a “settling point”.  Taubes is very articulate on this point:

Life is dependent on homeostatic systems that exhibit the same relative constancy as body weight, and none of them require a set point, like the temperature setting on a thermostat, to do so. Moreover, it is always possible to create a system that exhibits set-point-like behavior or a settling point, without actually having a set-point mechanism involved. The classic example is the water level in a lake, which might, to the naive, appear to be regulated from day to day or year to year, but is just the end result of a balance between the flow of water into the lake and the flow out. When Claude Bernard discussed the stability of the milieu interieur, and Walter Cannon the notion of homeostasis, it was this kind of dynamic equilibrium they had in mind, not a central thermostatlike regulator in the brain that would do the job rather than the body itself.

This is where physiological psychologists provided a viable alternative hypothesis to explain both hunger and weight regulation. In effect, they rediscovered the science of how fat metabolism is regulated, but did it from an entirely different perspective, and followed the implications through to the sensations of hunger and satiety. Their hypothesis explained the relative stability of body weight, which has always been one of the outstanding paradoxes in the study of weight regulation, and even why body weight would be expected to move upward with age, or even move upward on average in a population, as the obesity epidemic suggests has been the case lately. (GCBC, pp. 428-9)

In effect, the apparent stability of weight results from a relative constancy in many factors–hormone activation, food intake, physical activity–any change in which can shift this balance to a new stability point.

The glucostatic theory also provides explain how appetite can change on a minute-by-minute basis. Typically, a drop in blood sugar is associated with hunger and the initiation of eating.  While blood sugar can drift down on its own, the more usual scenario is that food cues such as aromas, or the time of day, lead  to a psychologically triggered secretion of insulin are the immediate causes of a dip in blood sugar, with its attendant hunger signals.  This usually occurs at meal times because of prior conditioning.  Blood sugar can also drop when the body is running low on glycogen and is having difficulty switching over to fat or ketones, or when blood sugar is depleted by exercise or other activity that outstrips the ability to resupply glucose from the tissues.

Unlike blood glucose and insulin–which can change by the minute and correlate well with the well known rhythms of appetite and satiety–body fat and body weight change much more slowly, and therefore do not seem to be good candidates for direct control, as required by the set point theory of weight regulation.

Associative learning. There is a second problem with Roberts’ explanation of why the Shangri-La Diet works. One of Roberts central claims is that body fat set point is influenced by flavor-calorie association, and that the strength of the association between flavor and calories comes about by means of associative learning. In this regard, Roberts explicitly invokes Pavlov to explain why the the SLD requires that flavor and calories be detected at separate times:

In Pavlov’s experiments, the bell was the signal and the food was the outcome.  The food was given at the same time the bell was turned off.  Had the food been given many minutes after the bell was turned off, the dog would not have associated them  at all. (SLD, p. 47)

Roberts further supports this contention about timing by citing experiments with rats indicating that “a flavor-calorie association was learned even when there was a thirty-minute gap between eating the flavor source and eating the calorie source” (p. 70), but a one-hour gap was sufficient to prevent such a learned association from forming. The flavorless calorie window of one hour stipulated for the SLD is based on the Pavlovian principle that “the more delayed the outcome, the weaker the association”.

But I believe Roberts’ interpretations and conclusions regarding Pavlov’s finding are not correct here. First, Pavlov did in fact show in his experiments with dogs that a delay between a stimulus such as a buzzer, and a delayed feeding would merely reinforce a delay in the salivation. The dogs would wait the required amount of time:

As his technique became more practiced, Pavlov’s laboratory began investigating the canine sense of time. After a dog was trained to salivate at a flash of light, the delivery of the stimulus was postponed by three minutes. Before long, the dog learned to anticipate the delay. Three minutes after the signal, the animal’s mouth would water. (The Ten Most Beautiful Experiments, p. 132).

But second, note that Roberts in the previous quote is talking about an association between the bell and the food presentation (two stimuli). That is indeed associative learning, because both the bell and the food can be perceived. The bell and food repeatedly occur together, and become psychologically associated.  This association is strengthen considerably by reinforcement.  The bell is a conditioned stimulus (CS) and the food is an unconditioned stimulus (US) and classical conditioning is all about associating CS with US, by virtue of reinforcing the unconditioned response (UR). In this case the UR is salivation and an increase in appetite, and the reinforcement is the rise in the dog’s blood sugar that occurs after it eats the food. (If the food was taken away before being eaten, there would be no reinforcement).

Yet in his explanation of why the Shangri-La diet works, Roberts talks about an “association” between flavor and calories. However it is a misapplication of the concept of associative learning to speak of “associating” a perceivable entity (flavor) with an unperceivable physiological reaction (detection of “calories”). The calories cannot be directly perceived by the sensory apparatus. Rather, the ingestion of food results in a physiological response, a rise in blood sugar, and its further consequence, secretion of insulin. There is a perceivable consequence of the calories (hunger), which is possible to associated with certain stimuli.  But that is not what Roberts is claiming. He says that we learn to associate flavors with calories, not with hunger or satiety. The relationship between a perceivable stimulus and a physiological response, if reinforced, gives rise to classical conditioning.  This is distinct from associative learning, in which two perceivable stimuli become associated with each other when they occur together repeatedly.

Put another way: it is not strictly correct to say that people “learn” to make “associations” between flavors and calories, especially since they are not directly aware of the calories (other than by reading food labels). All we can discern is whether or not the flavorful food provides relief from hunger. Roberts sometimes seems to conflate awareness of calories–a requirement for associative learning–with physiological detection of calories. But physiological “detection” by the digestive system is not associative learning.Strictly speaking, it is not a flavor-calorie association, but rather an association between flavor and the satisfaction of appetite. An even better way is to formulate this as a stimulus-response relationship, since the primary response is physiological and not conscious. In this case direct response to the stimulus of flavor is insulin secretion, and indirect responses are blood sugar and appetite.  Pavlov primarily studied the conditioning of stimulus-response relationships; the associative learning was merely an explanation for how a secondary, conditioned stimulus could become secondarily associated with the primary unconditioned stimulus.

Even if we were to accept Roberts position that unconscious detection of caloric foods by the digestive system is sufficient for calories to play a role in “associative learning”, we are left without an explanation of how calories per se can be detected.  In this regard, the digestive system does not recognize all “calories” as a monolithic unit of food, as Roberts seems to suggest.  His explanation of how low carb and “good carb” diets work overlooks significant differences in how calories in different types of macronutrients interact with the digestive system. He seems to assume the only difference between carbohydrates, proteins and fats is how quickly they are released and detected:

When a food is digested more slowly, the calories in that food are detected more slowly. Thus there is more of a gap between the signal (flavor) and the outcome (calories). I believe this is why low-carb and good-carb diets work: They replace foods  that are digested quickly, such as bread, with foods that are digested slowly, such as vegetables. The foods that are digested more slowly have weaker flavor-calorie associations. They raise your set point less.  (SLD, p. 47)

But this is surely wrong.  Low molecular weight oils and simple proteins like whey isolate can be digested and absorbed as least as quickly as most starches. The reason that oils and protein lead to appetite suppression and weight loss is not that they are detected more slowly, but rather than they induce little or no insulin response. Furthermore, low carb fats will result in increased appetite in weight if they are combined with even a modest amount of carbohydrates, because the insulin response will cause them to become “fixed” with the glucose to form triglycerides in the adipose tissue. It is critically important to consider the types of macronutrients and how the endocrine and digestive system responds to them alone and in combination.

A better explanation for Robert’s one-hour rule is based on the dynamics of insulin secretion.  And correctly understood in terms of insulin response, the one hour rule should be changed to an asymmetric rule.  In fact, one should only need to wait about 15-30 minutes after ingesting non-caloric flavors before consuming calories, but depending on the meal size, one may need to wait an hour or more before consuming flavors after eating.  This is because the pre-prandial insulin response is shorter and smaller than the post-prandial insulin response.

In fact the one-hour rule must be differentiated even further, based on the macronutrient composition of the calories, and it leads to a number of predictions that diverge from the SLD:

1. Wait at least 15-30 minutes after a flavor or aroma before ingesting carbohydrate containing foods. (This is to allow the pre-prandial insulin response to subside, and blood sugar to renormalize).
2. Wait at least an hour after consuming flavorless carbohydrate-containing foods before ingesting flavors. (This is because the post-prandial insulin is much larger and takes longer to return to baseline than the transient flavor-induced pre-prandial insulin response).
3. The same rules apply to meals which contain large amounts of protein.  Protein is much less insulinogenic that carbohydrates, but large protein meals and certain types of protein are insulinogenic.
4. You can eat fats and flavors together without any worry, because fat is not insulinogenic alone–it requires the presence of a little carbohydrate or a lot of protein to be removed from the bloodstream by insulin.

The flavor-insulin response, which is mediated by the tractus solitarus in the brain and the vagus nerve, is a conditioned response.  It will be strengthened whenever the flavor cue is concurrent or closely followed by a the ingestion of insulinogenic foods, foods which in themselves produce an insulin response when detected by the glucose receptors in the stomach and intestines. Essentially, the flavor-insulin response is a predictive response that readies the digestive tract for food that is coming, by making the food more absorbable. Secreting pre-prandial insulin for a pure fat meal or a small protein meal has no value, and that conditioned response will tend to extinguish. So that leads to another set of predictions. In particular, despite what Roberts claims, fats and sugars should work very differently in the SLD. So here are some predictions made by the insulin-regulated glucostatic theory of hunger, all of which are either not predicted by SLD or are diametrically opposed to what SLD would predict:

1. Consuming pure fats like olive oil or heavy cream should suppress appetite even if they are flavored. This only works, however, if no more than a trace of carbohydrates or proteins.  (This works because fats are noninsulinogenic).
2. Increasing the dose size of oils even to large doses should increase appetite suppression
3. Increasing the dose size of sucrose or glucose beyond the minimum dose, should reduce appetite suppression.  A small amount of sucrose or glucose increases satiety because it raises blood sugar slightly, and flies “under the insulin radar”.  Insulin is not secreted until blood sugar rises above a certain threshold, typically 120 mg/dL or so.  But once it exceeds that threshold, insulin kicks in, and blood sugar drops.
4. Sipping sucrose or glucose slowly will maintain appetite suppression.  If this is done slowly enough, the addition to blood sugar just balances out the amount of blood sugar consumed to meet metabolic needs.  But this is a careful balance.
5. Increasing the dose of fructose, xylitol, erythritol, or other non-insulinogenic sugars should suppress appetite at any dose.

Prediction 4 is consistent with SLD. Predictions 2 and 5 are consistent with SLD, but not predictable from it. Predictions 1 and 3 are contrary to the fundamental assumptions of SLD, and would not be predicted by it.

For anyone who is interested in subjecting SLD to a test, I would be interested in their experience in attempting to verify or refute the above predictions, especially 1, 2 and 3.

The Flavor Point Diet. (FPD). This diet, created by David Katz, is based on the concept of “sensory specific satiety”. Eating a meal with flavors in multiple “competing” categories such as sweet, salty, or savory, somehow stimulates the “appetite center” of your brain, causing overeating. Limiting the flavor categories in a meal or snack to one or two flavor types makes it easier–more rapidly and with less food– for your brain and stomach to reach the “flavor point”, a state of satiety that causes you to stop eating, with less food. This concept is reflected in the popular notion of “multiple stomachs”, whereby you can feel stuffed after eating one course of a meal, but you often seem to find additional appetite for dessert or something different.  The FPD advises you to restrict the number of simultaneous flavors within a meal, but overcomes the potential boredom by allowing you to eat a variety of flavors over the course of a day or week–just not “excessive variety” all at one time.

Katz bases most of his case for sensory specific satiety on the way in which flavors stimulate the production of neurochemicals that activate the hypothalamus:

As soon as you taste food, the sensory information registers in the hypothalamus in the brain, which, depending on the flavor of the food, sends out signals to eat more or less.  Because of this sensory relay system, the appetite center in your hypothalamus can become aroused–and in some cases overly aroused–by how a food tastes. (FPD, p. 4)

As soon as you bite into any food, sensory stimulation of nerve endings on the tongue leads to the release of a number of chemicals, including opioids, into the bloodstream.  You release more opioids–the body’s natural version of drugs like morphine–when you consume foods high in sugar and fat, creating a powerful, neurochemical drive to overeat those foods.  These opioids and other chemicals enter the bloodstream and carry their messages to the hypothalamus, which sends out yet another set of chemicals to regulate appetite. The more flavors your taste buds register, the more stimulated the hypothalamus becomes, releasing the hunger-promoting neuropeptide Y. When you taste a lot of flavors at once, the brain releases a lot of neuropeptide Y.  Meanwhile, in response to the smell and taste of food, your stomach produces the hormone ghrelin, which also stimulates appetite.  It continues to produce this hormone until you eat enough food to literally fill your stomach and stretch the stomach wall. Farther down the line, in your intestines, levels of several hormones rise to varying degrees–depending on the nature of your meal–either inducing more hunger or turning off hunger. (FPD, p. 4-5)

Katz claims that by “organizing” the flavors in our diet, we can manipulate this chain of chemical and  signals and “subdue the appetite center in your brain sooner, before you’ve overeaten.” (p. 9) Katz also does acknowledge a role for insulin in controlling blood sugar, and points out that fast carbs cause a rapid blood sugar surge and an insulin spike which tends to overshoot and lead to a drop in blood sugar, whereas low glycemic carbs like oatmeal result in a lower rise in blood sugar, a slower release of insulin, “no rapid surge and dip in blood sugar levels” and sustained satiety.  But he does not make any direct connection between flavor and the insulin response, putting the onus on the neurochemical triggers like opioids, neuropeptide Y, and ghrelin.

The FPD establishes how flavors can begin a cascade that induces appetite. Katz is probably correct that the effects of individuals have a saturating effect on this response, and that the response can be increased by combining multiple flavors. I think that Katz overstates the role that neurotransmitters and leptin play in hunger and appetite.  Neurotransmitters and leptin are are important as primarily signaling compounds to the brain, but they are not the primary causal agent in that chain. Insulin is much more directly involved in the control of appetite, because it is insulin that reduces blood sugar to physiologically unsustainable levels in the first place, and the signaling compounds are merely the messengers. Blaming these signalling compounds for hunger is like blaming a witness for the crime. Perhaps neuropeptides and leptin can signal hunger without concurrent insulin response. I think this is unlikely, but if it occurs, I suspect it is because these signals have independently become classically conditioned to respond to flavors and other food cues that have become associated with the presence of food. As with insulin, these neurotransmitter responses to sensory stimuli can be deconditioned upon experience. However, Katz treats the neurochemical responses to flavors as “hardwired”, overlooking the fact that they are learned or conditioned responses.  The responses will strengthen if reinforced by eating food that increases blood sugar, and will weaken if not reinforced. His claim that sugar and fat alone cause the release of opioids into the bloodstream is not documented and seems unlikely. The tongue does not detect sugar and fat directly. In fact, some neurological research by Woolley et al at UCSF indicates that it is flavors, and not the macronutrient content of foods, that stimulate opioid secretion by the nucleus accumbens in the brain. To the extent that the hypothalamus is engaged, it requires a detectable signal such as flavor.  As Teff showed (see Diet page), the tractus solitarus will trigger the vagus nerve to secrete insulin only in response to flavor and scents that it has learned and expects to be associated with blood-sugar raising foods.

Sensa tastants.  Closely related to the Flavor Point diet is the use of tastants as Alan Hirsch has developed for his Sensa Weight Loss Program.  The Sensa tastants are intense non-caloric flavors that are sprinkled on foods to enhance flavor intensity.  The tastants are matched the flavor class of the foods: savory tastants are sprinkled on savory foods, while sweet tastants are sprinkled on sweet foods. The principle of sensory-specific satiety is identical with that of the Flavor Point diet. One is still advised to eat only one or two “flavor categories” of food at a meal. The advantage of Sensa over FPD, perhaps, is that the satiating “flavor point” is reached earlier in a meal, with less food and fewer calories consumed than otherwise.  It seems to me the the same result could be achieved by spicing your savory foods and adding non-caloric sweeteners to your desserts.

As with FLP, however, tastants will do nothing to fundamentally alter or extinguish strong flavor-insulin responses. So one remains vulnerable to a strong appetite returning when combining foods, and has to observe the principle of limiting the number and variety of flavors at any given meal.

The bottom line, with both FLP and Sensa, is that by confining yourself or intensifying a single flavor, you allow the insulin response to that specific flavor to saturate earlier, thereby limiting the appetite-inducing property of insulin.  If you were to add more successive different flavors, you will tend to stimulate separate flavor-detection pathways and add another wave of insulin secretion and stoking of appetite.

Odor inhalers (Scentsational Weight Loss). Direct exposure to saturating levels of food aromas is yet another way to exploit the sensory specific satiety mechanism. Even though it exploits the same mechanism, it is in an entirely different class and–as I will argue–odor inhalers have the potential to engender long term appetite deconditioning and weight loss.

Alan Hirsch describes his discovery of this phenomenon in his book Sensational Weight Loss (SWL), and the same concept is exploited in the commercial “diet pens” sold by SlimScents. There are a number of other related pens and inhalers marketed as “aromatherapy”. Hirsch reports a remarkable conclusion from his six month study of the use aroma devices for to quell appetite and spur weight loss. The study included 3193 participants, 86% of whom were women, and most of whom were significantly overweight (average weight = 217 lb.). Participants were given small odor inhalers, similar to lipstick dispensers, containing pleasant smelling substances. Three aromas were used: green apple, peppermint, and banana. Hirsch found that varying the aromas was more effective than sticking with the same aroma. Participants were asked to open and sniff the aromas whenever they got hungry–three sniffs in each nostril. But otherwise there were no forbidden foods or other dietary restrictions. The results were impressive. The average weight loss was 5 pounds per month.  Some people lost more than 100 pounds over the six month study. What is especially interesting to me, however, is that there was a permanent deconditioning effect, along the lines of the Deconditioning Diet (see Diet page).  Here are Hirsch’s comments regarding “deprogramming” of the participants’ learned responses to flavors, leading to long-term changes in eating habits:

Just as we have learned to respond to the smell of certain foods by feeling hungry and wanting to eat, we can, in a very real sense, “unlearn” or deprogram ourselves. For many people the smell of any food triggered hunger. Smell a doughnut, salivate; smell a pizza, and the stomach growls. Actually, most of us experience this much of the time; but in the overweight person, this conditioned, or learned, response can be quite. powerful. It’s exciting to realize that people can recondition themselves to smell an odor and not respond with hunger. In the absence of a food associated with the smell, hunger disappeared, the desire to eat subsided, and a pattern was broken. In many cases, this was a long-standing pattern that was broken during the six month study. (SWLP, p. 33-4)

Further evidence of a long term change was reflected in the frequency of use of the odor  devices during the study. At the beginning of the study, participants reported needing to sniff 200 times a day or more; by the end of the study, only occasional sniffing was needed to keep appetite in check. So the the aroma devices don’t themselves become habit forming–the dependence actually decreases over time as new eating habits are consolidated.

In Chapter 4 of Scentsational Weight Loss, Hirsch provides some additional advice, namely that we pre-saturate our satiey centers by sniffing our meals before the first bite to letter the odor molecules fully stimulate the olfactory bulb.  He recommends that we slowly chew and savor the flavor of each bite in order to “fool” the hypothalamus into “believing that more food has been ingested than is actually the case. He also recommends eating food warm or hot to maximize the aroma, adding spices whenever possible, and choosing the more strongly flavored versions of foods.  ”For example, if you eat popcorn, eat the cheese-flavored varierty, or choose an onion bagel over a plain one.” (SWLP, p. 62).

On the face of it, this advice is diametrically opposed to that of Seth Roberts’ Shangri-La Diet!  Roberts argues that blander foods induce weight loss, whereas Hirsch is arging for more intensely flavored and spiced foods. Who is right and what gives?

Here is where all three diets — SLD, FPD, Sensa, and SWL– come together.  After promoting the enhancement of flavor, Hirsch adds:

Try limiting your food choices at any one meal. We still encourage variety, but not necessarily all at one time. We have found that people who want to lose weight should eat only two or three different foods during a meal rather than eating a little bit of many foods…Avoid buffet tables and “all you an eat” food bars. Even salad bars can be dangerous…Even with a smell device, too many selections and unlimited choices spell potential overeating. (Sensa Weight Loss Program, p. 63-64)

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

A Unified Explanation of Flavor Control Diets. Here is my summary explanation that can account for the observed effects of all four dietary approaches:  Familiar flavors can induce a pre-prandial insulin response which leads to increased appetite and weight gain. This preprandial insulin response saturates separately for each basic flavor type (savory, salty, sweet, etc.). This saturating pre-prandial insulin response is is a learned response, and one that is reinforced only if it results ultimately in a rise in blood sugar and psychological satiation. If that flavor or aroma is not followed by more eating, it will eventually diminish or extinguish as a cue.

Here then is how this explains each of the four flavor control diets:

1. SLD explanation. Eating foods that contain carbohydrates (and to a lesser extent, proteins) with strong, familiar flavors will lead to a rapid pre-prandial insulin response which may be enough to cause a dip in blood sugar, stoking hunger and leading to further eating. Eating a small amount of bland or flavorless carbohydrate will satisfy hunger by slightly raising blood sugar, and will induce only a small post-prandial insulin response, insufficient to cause a rapid decline in blood sugar, so appetite will remain suppressed.  While SLD keeps insulin in check, it does so only so long as flavor cues are not present. But SLD does nothing to weaken the connection between familiar flavors stimuli and their insulin response, it merely eliminates the stimuli.  One would expect appetite to return when the familiar flavors are re-introduced.
2. FPD explanation. Eating foods with familiar flavors will induce two insulin responses:  a small pre-prandial response and a larger post-prandial response.  However, the pre-prandial insulin responses for that flavor peaks within about 4 minutes after exposure, and sensory detection of that flavor will rapidly saturate.  After it saturates, any further exposure to that specific aroma (or aroma class) will not induce any further insulin response for an extended period of time — up to about an hour. However, introducing new flavors, aromas or other food cues will cause additional secretion of insulin, increasing appetite. The more intense the flavor or aroma, the faster the saturation.
3. Sensa explanation.  The explanation for Sensa is the same as that for the FPD.  Activation of a sensory response to a flavor will induce a small and rapid pre-prandial insulin response. For a single flavor or aroma class, the detection of that flavor will saturate after a certain amount of time, after which it will not prompt any further insulin response.  If multiple aromas are sniffed, then all those smell receptors will become saturated, after which any further pre-prandial insulin response will become muted. Since the Sensa tastants contain no or minimal calories, they provide a way to reach flavor saturation faster, with fewer calories.  In that way, the use of tastants is more effective than the Flavor Point Diet, since fewer net calories are consumed while satisfying one’s appetite.
4. SWL (odor inhalants) explanation. With sensory-specific satiety approahes like FPD and Sensa, the stimulus-response relationship between flavor and pre-prandial insulin response is reinforced. The stimulus may saturate, but the connection with the insulin response remains in place, so that at subsequent meals, the flavor will induce pre-prandial insulin.  However, with SWL, the relationship between flavor and pre-prandial insulin is not reinforced, so it extinguishes!  This is a crucial difference. For this reason, SWL is actually a deconditioning diet that results in long term changes in the flavor-insulin response that suppress appetite and lead to weight loss.  Eventually, the aroma inhalers are no longer needed, or only rarely, to maintain the “deprogramming” that Hirsch alludes to.  By contrast, SLD, FLP and Sensa are not deconditioning diets, but merely methods of suppressing or limiting appetite that work by either minimizing or saturating the stimulus of food cues, but doing nothing to weaken the flavor-insulin response.

Lessons learned. Where does this leave us?  There is a lot to be learned from all four flavor control diets. Flavors and aromas that become associated with foods, particularly carbohydrate-containing foods, strengthen the insulin-response to those flavors and aromas, increase appetite, and tend to increase the consumption of those foods, leading to weight gain. This insulin response and the resulting appetite can be significantly dampened by limiting the variety of flavors while eating.  However, a much larger benefit is possible by using flavors to decondition your appetite:

• You can expose yourself to flavors without carbohydrates or other insulinogenic foods and this will dampen the flavor-insulin response, and lead to a decrease in appetite that is induced by food cues.
• By exposing yourself to a variety of flavors or aromatic stimuli without eating, you will saturate a fuller range of satiety centers and even more effectively block an insulin response.  Sniffing a variety of aromas of different types–savory and sweet– without eating can be helpful in curbing appetite.

These findings have been incorporated into the second phase of the Deconditioning Diet, as described on the Diet page in this website.

Please leave a comment.  You can also check out (and maybe start) a discussion on the Diet Forum linked to this blog.

Biological markers. After these ordeals, Dr. Andy Morgan of Yale Medical School found that the top performers had very different physiological responses from those who couldn’t hack it. He did extensive physiological monitoring and found that those who passed these tough tests had much higher levels of NPY (a neuropeptide) and DHEA (a hormone that buffers the effects of cortisol, a stress hormone).  In addition, those who did best also had “metronomic heartbeats” — very little heart rate variability (HRV), compared to most normal people, who show a lot of variability in the intervals between heartbeats.

These biological markers of stress-resistant individuals show that they are somehow different than most of us.  Perhaps this is worth looking for what it can teach the rest of us.   Certainly, there are other health known health benefits that have been reported for NPY and DHEA.

Autonomic nervous system. Regarding HRV, however, Sherwood raises a caveat, noting that numerous studies have associated metronomic heartbeats (low HRV) with cardiovascular disease, diabetes, and even sudden death.  However, other research into the HRV paints a more complex picture.  A paper on the Intellewave Method,  by Dr. Alexander Riftine,  indicates that low HRV may have different implications for the state of the autonomic nervous system, depending on the frequency of the heartbeat variability, derived from heart rhythmograms.  When spectral analysis (a mathematical technique based upon Fourier Transforms) is applied to the heart rhythmograms, the heartbeat frequency variations are resolved into high frequency (HF) and low frequency (LF) patterns.  The LF variations are associated with the sympathetic nervous system (SNS), where as high frequency HF variation correlate with the parasympathetic nerous system (PSNS).  The balance between SNS and PSNS states predicts much about an individual’s fitness.  According to Dr. Riftine, these states cluster into nine typical combinations.  The ninth state–an elevated PSNS with a reduced SNS state–is “rather unusual because normally an increase in PSNS is accompanied by an increase in SNS.  This rare condition is found in water polo athletes, long-distance runners, navy seals and persons with special heart training for deep sea diving.”

The physiological analysis of individuals who have successfully adapted to tolerate stress is a promising area ripe with lessons for the rest of us, as it could be used to assess, predict, and track our progress in getting stronger and more stress-hardy.

Tennis. Loehr gleaned some of his most perceptive insights by using telemetry to observe the behaviors that separated the top tennis players from the lower ranks. Specifically, he found that the best tennis players are intense and focused during play, but show a remarkable ability to recover during “between-point” time, following routines that allowed them to pause and recover their energy for the next point. During these brief periods–approximately 25 seconds–between points, “top competitors were much more skillful oscillators during competition. The rhythmic increases in heart rate during points, and decreases in heart rate between points, meant that a competitor was adapting to the stress.” (SFS, p. 167). By contrast, poor competitors did not use their downtime wisely, not relaxing or even exacerbating the stress by disputing calls or showing emotion.

Toughening. The best of Loehr’s ideas are encapsulated in Part III of “Stress for Success”, entitled “Life Skills and the Toughening Process: Targeting Stress Exposure”. This section presents what I believe are the key concepts for effective toughness training based upon deliberate and controlled exposure to stress. Loehr takes research from sport science and applies it to training for toughness in everyday life.  ”For decades, sport science researchers have been diligently investigating the relationships between stress and growth.  The optimal frequency, duration, and intensity of stress exposure for improving strength, speed agility, endurance, stamina, and toughness of all kinds have been vigorously pursued. The most important confirmation in all the research is simple and direct:  STRESS IS THE STIMULUS FOR ALL GROWTH.”  (SFS, P. 145).

Oscillation. Loehr goes on to describe training routines whereby one can increase stress tolerance by deliberately using intermittent intervals of stress exposure, oscillating with periods of recovery and rest. One of the most effect means of doing this is excercise, specifically interval training. According to Loehr, “exercise is really stress practice,” and he cites the training principle of “specificity” to argue that the exercise stress should oscillate, so that they resemble the up-and-down of stresses in real life. The intermittent stresses should be intense to the point of discomfort, but never painful. And the use of intervening periods of “active rest” and sleep are equally important for recharging.

The benefits of this approach to oscillatory stress training have biochemical correlates. Loehr cites research indicating that, whereas chronic, sustained stress leads to depletion of the stress hormone norepinephrine and elevation of cortisol, intermittent acute stress, followed by recovery, allows for increased tolerance and resistance to norepinephrine depletion.

Although Loehr mentions that sports scientists have studied the optimum intensity, duration, and frequency of applied stresses in exercise, he does not provide in his book any specific guidelines for optimizing these variables, beyond noting that they will vary based on the nature of the stress and subjective factors such as discomfort and pain thresholds. While being aware of one’s own thresholds is no doubt good advice, it seems to me that turning exploring the quantitative aspects of this science would be useful in helping to reveal more objective factors.

Beyond exercise. I believe that the application of stress and recovery cycles for training can be generalized beyond the use of physical exercise. Following the principle of specificity, why not train for life using more  specific stresses encountered in life, specific distractions or irritants, including physical stresses such noise, heat, or hunger; or interpersonal irritants such as yelling, nagging, or insulting. In fact, such deliberate exposure to stress and hardship is a techniques going back to the Stoics, who recommended training oneself to tolerate increasing levels of physical stress and discomfort by means of cold baths, sleeping on the floor, fasting, and learning to tolerate insults. Extreme forms of such exposures to stress have been used by the Army and Navy to harden their special forces (See the post on Stress Inoculation), but I believe there is a lot of opportunity for both creativity and the use of proven behavioral science in developing and optimizing specific and effective techniques to help us become more resistant to a variety of life’s everyday stresses.