GOING DEEPER: Elements of the Experiential Array

Previous Essay      Next Essay

Beliefs II: The Belief Template

The Belief Template is a graphic tool for capturing the significant equivalence and causal relationships that form the basis for an exemplar's belief system. These relationships take the form of Criteria, Definition, Evidence, and Enabling and Motivating Cause-Effects. These underlying structures act as the primary experiential factors the exemplar brings into play when in the context of the ability. These structures also give rise to the infinite ways the exemplar might verbalize the beliefs he holds when manifesting the ability. In addition, there may be Supporting Beliefs worth capturing. These are beliefs which, while not crucial to the ability, nevertheless bolster its expression.

Artie Shaw is one of the finest and most innovative jazz clarinetists...ever. He was a real "King of Swing," the first white band leader to hire a full-time black female singer (Billie Holiday), led the Artie Shaw Orchestra to fame, and composed many enduring hits, including one that has settled into the psyche of anyone who has ever listened to big band music, "Begin the Beguine." In his nineties, Artie Shaw reflected on how he arranged compositions for his band:

The main thing was to get rid of non-essentials. Basically when you're hearing a piece of music there's the melody and the rhythm pulse behind it. It could be a piano...it could be a piano, bass guitar and drums, whatever. But there's a pulse and a melody. Now anything you add to that has got to be done very carefully, because you are taking away from the attention of the average lay listener, who is interested in the melody and in the beat, if he's dancing. When you make an arrangement, as I put it, make it as simple as you can. If there's too much in there that doesn't belong, get rid of it. My job as a leader was to take the music that was brought to me... These were accomplished musicians but they would forget that the audience wasn't an accomplished musician. They didn't know what was going on. My job was to try to act as intermediary between their complex notions and ideas about the tune and what the audience wanted. And I tried my best to keep it musically as good and exciting and valid as I could and at the same time cut out the irrelevancies.

"The Mystery of Artie Shaw: Will the Beguine Ever End?" Interviewed by Ted Hallock, KBOO, Portland, Oregon

In this extract, Shaw pronounces, explains, recommends, recalls, justifies and judges. He says many things. But are they different things? The answer to that depends upon whether we are looking at the content of each of his explanations, recommendations and judgements, or at the belief structure that gives rise to them. "The main thing was to get rid of non-essentials," "When you make an arrangement, as I put it, make it as simple as you can," and "If there's too much in there that doesn't belong, get rid of it" are obviously not the same sentences. Even so, it is also obvious that they are different linguistic manifestations of the same underlying belief; they are three different ways of saying the same thing regarding the importance of "getting rid of non-essentials." (Asked to write an epitaph for himself for Who's Who in America, Shaw wrote, "He did the best he could with the material at hand." Later, however, responding to a question about the epitaph during a lecture, Shaw said, "Yeah, but I've been thinking it over and I've decided it ought to be shorter, to make it more elegant...I've cut it down to two words: 'Go away.'" www.artieshaw.com)

What may be less obvious is that almost everything Artie Shaw says in this excerpt springs from that same, underlying belief. For instance, "Now anything you add to that has got to be done very carefully, because you are taking away from the attention of the average lay listener, who is interested in the melody and in the beat, if he's dancing." His explanation reveals that he is attending to what is essential to his audiences, and tries to not include ("get rid of") anything that is not essential to them. If we were modeling Artie Shaw, we would not want all the ways he has of expressing that one idea. That is an infinite well, and we will never drain it. If that well is full of water, we only need a few drops to know what we will find no matter how many times we cast our bucket into it.

As another example, consider the following beliefs:

"Hard work provides a good foundation."
"I need to get busy on that project if it is to get anywhere."
"You get out only what you put in."
"Without effort there is no accomplishment."
"He will never amount to anything until he breaks a sweat at something."
"Choosing between brains and diligence, I'll take diligence every time."

Although each of these statements is manifestly different than any of the others, they are all expressions of the same underlying causal relationship between "effort" and "attaining goals." These six examples are, in fact, just a few of the endless ways that individuals — or even one individual — might express this causal relationship at various times and in different contexts.

Similarly, when your friend goes on for ten minutes explaining how his boss "really understands his people," he will cover a lot of expressive ground, coming at the topic from many angles. There may be examples, quotes, observations, assessments, questions, comparisons, childhood memories and explanations. It is a rich weaving of communication. All of that complexity and richness is also almost certainly the verbalized expression of a very few equivalence and causal relationships your friend is holding (specifically, in this example, what your friend believes constitutes "really understanding people").

As modelers, we want to identify those few underlying patterns that are most significant in generating a person's experience and behavior, that is, their "ability." (We do not want the list for good wines, but the ability to determine for ourselves what is a good wine.) How are we to tease out from the expressive tapestry of discourse the threads of those underlying patterns of beliefs?

We begin by making distinctions about the structures underlying beliefs. We began this process in our discussion of equivalence and causal relationships. With those distinctions under our belts, we are now ready to explore the more refined and more useful distinctions captured in the "Belief Template":

The Belief Template is a graphic model inside the encompassing graphic model of the Experiential Array. As with the Array, the Template is useful in three important ways:

1. It specifies what elements of the exemplar's beliefs are significant
    and worth capturing for the model.

2. It provides a place to capture them.

These two virtues help us sort through the flood of information by (1) reminding us of those aspects of experience (distinctions) we want to focus on, and (2) helping us keep track of what we already have identified and what we have yet to discover. And third,

3. The Belief Template represents the dynamics operating among the elements
    of the exemplar's beliefs.

The Belief Template lays out in an accessible way the patterns of connection operating in the exemplar's experience. That is, it captures the structure. And in so doing, it transforms what would otherwise be an endless list of statements of belief into a set of fundamental relationships capable of generating that endless list.

Criteria

In the middle of the fifties, Stravinsky was commissioned by the Venice Festival to write them an original work. His contribution turned out to be fifteen minutes long. The officials of the festival complained to Stravinsky that this was too short. "Well, then," Stravinsky replied calmly, "play it again."

The Unimportance of Being Oscar, Oscar Levant, 1968

Imagine for a moment that you are considering buying a home. Outwardly the process involves scanning lists of homes, talking with an agent about what's available, and walking through homes that are on the market. Inwardly the process is one of evaluation: you do not consider every home on the list, you reject some of your agent's suggested properties and are interested in others, and some of the houses you walk through "feel right" while others do not. When a particular house is not right for you, however, it is not a judgement on the house itself but an expression of how you judge that house. It is not right for you. Packed inside that phrase, "for you," are the things you are looking for in a house, what is important to you. If "spaciousness" and "convenience to shopping" are important to you, then you will probably not buy that lovely cottage down the dirt road outside of town. You can see that it is beautiful and quiet and very affordable, but those are not the qualities that are most important to you. Instead, you are attracted to that four bedroom condominium near the heart of the city's shopping and cultural centers.

In situations involving choices that may have profound impacts on our lives — buying a house, deciding to have a child, getting married, separating from a partner — it is obvious that, in an effort to make those choices, we will be evaluating them in terms of the things that are important to us. When buying a home, for instance, one person may be focused on "spaciousness," someone else on "convenience," and others on "low maintenance," or "proximity to good schools" or "affordability." When considering having children people assess their "emotional readiness," "job security," "time for care-giving," and "expense." The fact that we make these assessments become obvious to us because they are both essential considerations for the individual and because they often involve extensive, conscious periods of thinking and talking with others.

While it may not be as immediately obvious, this same process of evaluating with respect to whatever is personally important is operating in almost everything we do. For example, what is important to you as you read these pages? It may not have occurred to you that something is important to you until we asked the question. But if you consider the answer for a moment, you will find that there is something you are wanting from your reading. Perhaps you want to "understand" the concepts presented here. Or perhaps as you read your attention is focused on the "usefulness" of the material, or its "clarity," or its "originality." It may instead be that what is important to you as you read is having "fun," finding keys to "personal power," discovering "new possibilities," "freedom," or any of a thousand other human concerns. Each of these different concerns are acting as important standards of evaluation for the person who has them. That is, a person for whom "understanding" is important will be evaluating how well he "understands" what he is reading. The person placing primary importance on "fun" will be evaluating whether or not he is having fun reading. The person looking for "new possibilities" will be looking for passages that present possibilities he had never considered before. This same person will, of course, be reading the passages in between and, to varying degrees, may be understanding, having fun, finding keys to "personal power," and so on. But the focus of his attention will be on those that offer "new possibilities." These personally important standards of evaluation are called "Criteria."

The Criterion is the primary standard of evaluation within a particular context.

The significance of Criteria is that they have a tremendous impact on what we attend and respond to in our experience. They act as filters on our experience in much the same way as colored lenses filter light. The world may be awash in full spectrum sunlight, but if you are wearing red goggles the only light that is transmitted to you will be shades of red. Similarly, reading these pages while holding the criterion of "usefulness" is like wearing a pair of "usefulness" goggles. As you read "through" those goggles, you will particularly notice any passages that discuss how something might be useful, and think about ways in which the information can be applied. In other words, you will be reading for "usefulness." You will notice any references to how to use or apply the concepts, as well as generate your own ideas about when, where and how the concepts can be useful. And, ultimately, your experience of satisfaction in reading the book will be largely determined by the extent to which you found it "useful." However, the many opportunities for "useful" application that you discovered may not occur at all to someone who reads these same pages wearing the criterion goggles of "clarity." That person may instead be occupied with noticing how well things are being explained, and perhaps generating possibilities for clearer explanations. And his reading satisfaction will be significantly affected by his experience of how "clear" it was.

Of course, you may be using more than one criterion at a time. You could be evaluating both "understanding" and "clarity" while reading. Similarly, when buying a house, "convenience," "affordability," and "spaciousness" may all be important experiential cards played on the table of your decision-making process. In addition to these criteria, there may be a myriad of other things that you take into consideration: the age of the appliances, is there a gas furnace, is the landscaping attractive, and so on. These may be preferences, but they are not important. That is, they are subordinate to "convenience," "affordability" and "spaciousness" (for instance, you would not reject a convenient, affordable and spacious house because it has an electric furnace).

The fact that those three considerations are important to this person means that they will establish the primary experiential filters through which he views the various houses on the market. They constitute this person's criteria in the context of buying a home.

CONTEXT

It is obvious that when you read a book you are operating in a different realm of experience — or "context" — than when you are buying a house, or watching a movie, or working on a report, or explaining something to a child, or painting a picture. The endless variety of place, people, activity, time of day, and so on generate an equally endless variety of contexts.

Whenever we enter into a context, our concerns, thinking, emotions and behavior adjust to the requirements and influences of that particular context. Furthermore, it takes only a slight change in elements to create a different context. For instance, how do your thoughts, feelings and behaviors change when you discover that a report you are working on is not due next week...but tomorrow? The context shifts from "preparing a report due in a week" to "preparing a report due in a day." The shift in your experience may be subtle ("Hmm, well let's see what I can do") or it may be obvious ("This is horrible — I'll never be to do it!"), but your experience will change when the context changes. Just what is shifting in you as you shift contexts?

As the context shifts, what is most important or relevant to you in that particular context shifts as well. When the report is due next week, perhaps what is important is "accuracy," "clear writing," "completeness," "classy presentation," and "approval by peers." But if the report suddenly becomes due tomorrow, what is relevant may shift to "accuracy," "clear writing," and "sufficient information to be useful" ("completeness" and "classy presentation" go out the window). The contextual frame determines what distinctions need to be in the foreground of your experience "now." And these distinctions act as a set of filters for perception and meaning, significantly affecting how you think, feel and behave in that particular context. (See Distinctions for a discussion about the impact of distinctions on experience and behavior, as well as a discussion about the Flow of Effect between beliefs and the other elements of experience.)

The range of possible contexts is endless because the boundaries that define a context are not necessarily set by the "reality" of the situation. Contexts are defined by the subjective fencing each of us places around our experiences. For one person, preparing a report due in a week is a completely different kettle of fish than preparing one due tomorrow; for someone else those two situations are the same kettle — the same context — and he approaches them both with the same attitude and behavior. Perhaps for him, writing reports for his boss is a totally different context — requiring different thinking — than writing reports for peers, and available time has little to do with what he considers important when preparing reports. Similarly, for one person, planning to build a bird house is a different context than planning to build a dog house, an outhouse or a human house; each context requires its own way of looking at the structure to be built. For someone else, "Listen, building is building."

The fact that context is determined by our individual ways of marking off the territory of experience (rather than anything intrinsic to the situation) means that we can shift context while the environment remains the same. Suppose you are conversing at the dinner table, a context that brings to the foreground for you the importance of politeness, openness to ideas, and contributing to the conversation. But as the conversation flows on, you realize that people at the table are trying to avoid talking about something in particular. Now the context becomes one of (perhaps) "interacting with people who are trying to avoid something" (or, perhaps, "figuring out what is being avoided"). And as a result, your criteria shift to concerns about respectfulness, or perhaps privacy, or perhaps telling the truth. The people, wine and conversation go on as before, but what is important to you in that situation has changed.

So far we have been talking about contexts as though they are defined by what is currently going on around us. The realm of experience also includes an endless landscape of internal contextual spaces as well. Imagining what your future might be is just as surely a context you can be "in" as is that of shopping for food. Other internally occurring contexts include considering what gift to buy your lover, recalling precious childhood memories, practicing in your head how you will give a friend bad news, visualizing how best to build a bird house, and attending to the subtle sensations in your body. And like externally defined contexts, internally generated contexts automatically orient our attention, thinking, feeling and behavior along certain lines, and the possible range of those internal contexts is endless.

Context and Modeling

In fact, we introduced the notion of context (though not the term itself) in the second essay, Getting Started, when talking about defining what you want to model. When you specify an ability, you are establishing the context for your exemplar. He will orient his experience to, and answer your questions from, that context. This is one reason we suggested considering the appropriateness of chunking down the ability into "sub-abilities." The example we used was of modeling the ability to "write fiction." That sets a context. "Writing teen fiction" sets a different context. And the context changes again when we chunk down to "writing fiction for 12 to 14 year olds." And of course, within each of these abilities there are the sub-abilities of "creating characters," "plotting," "editing," and so on, each of which establishes a different subjective experiential boundary for your exemplar.

This is why we emphasized the importance of being as precise as possible about what you want to be able to do before selecting exemplars and beginning to gather information. The context you establish will largely determine the nature of the information you end up gathering. By making sure that you have correctly specified the ability you want, you set a context for your exemplar that helps ensure that he is accessing the elements of his experience that actually form the ability you want.

Unlike the land we stand on, then, contexts are fluid frames that separate our world into subjectively different domains. We set the frame and establish the domain for our exemplar (and ourselves) when we specify the ability we want to model in them. If we are to map this territory, we need to plant our flag somewhere as a point of reference. The best place to do that is in the heart of that territory, at the Criterion.

CRITERIA AND MODELING ABILITIES

Some tracts of land are naturally good for growing grains, while others are naturally good for growing fruit trees. You can go ahead and plant grain where the land is actually best suited to grow trees, but your crop will probably require much more tending, it is unlikely to produce as much, and it may fail altogether. Our exemplars are like wise old farmers; they know what distinctions are most important to cultivate in the context of their particular ability.

The most essential of these distinctions include the exemplar's primary standards of evaluation, that is, his Criteria. The exemplar's criteria act as experiential filters, significantly organizing his perceptions, thoughts, feelings and behaviors along particular lines. It is this meaning-making through the perceptual mesh of the Criteria that forms the basis for how he thinks, feels and behaves in that context.

Furthermore, the fact that the exemplar is consistently effective in that context indicates that the Criteria he is using must be appropriate. Criteria are the beating hearts of most human abilities and, so, are essential to bringing models of those abilities to life.

In one of our modeling seminars, we were treated to a simple and dramatic example of the central nature of criteria to an ability. Derek wanted to learn to take good photographs. From his exemplar he first discovered that a sub-ability is, "recognizing a possible picture to take." When he modeled this particular ability, he learned that what the photographer is always looking for and responding to — that is, her Criterion — is "contrast," by which she meant any adjacent and marked difference in brightness, color, shape, texture, content, and so on. After offering the group just this Criterion, suddenly everyone was looking around the room and seeing possible pictures. The shadows cast by the chair upon the floor, the red shirt meeting the blue pants, the curve of the potted plant against the rectangles of the window panes, the smooth hand upon the corduroy, the old man walking by holding the hand of a child, all now jumped out at us a possible subjects for photographs. Though of course Derek had other refinements in the Array for "recognizing a possible picture to take," none of them made any sense, mattered or even worked without this Criterion of "contrast."

Criterion in Focus

Of course, the photographer had many criteria operating in her experience as she was looking about for possible pictures. But there was one Criterion which was primary, that of "contrast." We term this "the Criterion in focus." (In the Array it is simply "the Criterion.")

Conceptually, you might think that a person could have several Criteria in focus at the same time. However, when we have two or more criteria in focus at the same time, there is often conflict. Exemplars exemplify what works; typically, they are not caught up in equivocating, being stuck, conflicted and so on. We usually find that the exemplar in action — manifesting his particular ability — has one Criterion in focus. And if there are "sub-abilities" that contribute to the larger ability, each of them will have its own Criterion in focus, as well.

If the exemplar does come out with several Criteria in focus, it has been our experience that when we explore them with him, they quickly resolve into separate Criteria for a sequence of sub-abilities. The surprising (miraculous) fact is that when we ask the exemplar what is important to him when he is doing what he does, the answer is almost never a string of criteria, but one.

Lenny

Lenny had not been feeling well for months, and finally went to the hospital when his symptoms became intolerable. When the nurse heard that he had lost weight, and had been craving water and sugar, she decided to check his blood glucose. "Now a normal reading for a fasting non-diabetic individual is somewhere between 70 and 120," Lenny explained. "And I was 533. The doctor shook my hand and said, 'I'm not your doctor any more. We're going to get you an endocrinologist. See ya.' And he walks away. That was that. The nurse says, 'You're diabetic. You're having a sugar crisis right now.' So they send me upstairs and start pumping me full of insulin, which changed my entire universe about fifteen minutes after the first injection." Diagnosed as a type II diabetic, Lenny was quickly educated about testing his blood and taking medication, a regimen he would have to follow the rest of his life. He did not like the idea of taking medication, and when he heard about a diet that had allowed other diabetics to keep their blood sugar stable, he decided to try it. It worked. That was six years ago, and Lenny has been maintaining his blood glucose levels since then through this diet. Impressed by his ability to stick to a demanding diet regimen for so many years, we decided to model him. (Lenny follows the Sears "Zone Diet," described in detail in many publications, including Sears and Lawren's, The Zone: A Dietary Road Map, 1995.) Throughout all of these essays we will be referring to the Lenny's Array as a way of providing continuity to our examples of the various elements of experience. (Lenny's full Array can be found HERE.)

When we modeled Lenny we found that the Criterion he has in focus as he follows his diet is whether or not it is "working":

This is not a surprising Criterion, and is probably akin to the Criteria that many people hold when trying to stick to a diet. There is something tremendously significant about Lenny's particular form of the Criterion, however. And that is that it is "working," and not "works" or "worked." Lenny's "working" presupposes an ongoing evaluation; there is no end point to reach which, once attained, means he is done.

This contrasts with people who evaluate whether or not their diet "works" or has "worked," whose Criteria place them in a very different subjective situation from Lenny. When (for whatever reason) they hit a snag in their dieting, their evaluation is likely to be that the diet "doesn't work" or "hasn't worked." In both cases, the subjective experience is that there is something wrong with the diet (or "me"), and that it is all over. (Step into the situation of being on a diet while holding either one of those Criteria, and notice how it affects your feelings, thoughts, and choices.) Obviously, neither of these orientations are supportive of continuing to follow a diet.

The structure of experience presupposed by "working," however, orients us in a fundamentally different way. When Lenny hits a snag, there is no sense that the diet cannot work, just that it is not working currently. Also, there is less a sense that something is done, finished or proven; instead there is more the sense of the need for adjustment. Both of these orientations strongly support an endless and ongoing effort, which is just what Lenny needs to maintain his diet regimen.

Definition

Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.

Mohandas K. Gandhi

Ask a dozen people which of Mother Nature's animal species is the most successful and most will probably respond, "human beings, of course." Our ability to manipulate our world through language, tools and technology are unparalleled in any other species. We are the obvious choice.

But not for everyone. Some people will nominate other species, such as ants. After all, ants are far more numerous than human beings. Or how about crocodiles, which have survived basically unchanged for a billion years. Perhaps the accolade should fall upon the Grey whales, who have learned to coexist with each other without war or cruelty. What we point to as the most successful species, then, depends upon how we define "most successful." If it means "able to manipulate the world through the use of language, tools and technology," then human beings are a successful species. But to someone who defines "most successful" as "having the greatest numbers," then ants have us humans beat. If "most successful" means "enduring throughout the millennia," we humans are just getting started and our ability to last is relatively untested compared to the crocodile. Or, if one considers a "most successful" species one that has "transcended the willingness to kill its own kind," human beings are not even in the running. Each of these constitutes a different Definition for the criterion of "successful" when speaking of species. For the purposes of modeling, then:

The Definition is a description of the kind or class of experience that constitutes a particular Criterion operating in a particular context.

Obviously, the phrase, "the kind or class of experience that constitutes," can cover a lot of experiential ground. For example, there are various classes of experience by which the Criterion of "Growth" may be defined: behaviors (for instance, "opening oneself constantly to new possibilities"), abilities ("find and adopt what is worthwhile in any situation"), qualities ("eagerness to discover what is next"), objects ("owning more and more expensive things"), and so on.

The subjective nature of definitions means that there are no inherently correct or right ones. As Humpty Dumpty informed Alice, "When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less." That works in Wonderland, but on this side of the mirror we rely on consensual or shared definitions. That is, "we" agree on what "success" means — or "trust," "liberalism," "conservatism," "intelligent," "loving," "understand," etc. — and then interact through that shared understanding. Nevertheless, we cannot take it for granted that we share the same definitions even within "our group." Even jargon and terminology may not be defined the same by everyone in a particular group. For example, an executive we worked with, wanted to assign a staff member for a particular job and told his assistant, "I need a dedicated resource for this project." Two weeks later the annoyed executive hauled the assistant into his office to explain why the project was not moving forward faster. It then came out that the assistant thought that "dedicated" meant "sincere commitment to the job." What the executive meant by "dedicated" was "someone who devotes all of his time."

Bear in mind that this is one person's definition within a particular context. What the executive means by "dedicated" may be one thing when he is talking about staffing for specific tasks, and something else when the context shifts to addressing "work ethics of employees." In that context, his definition of "dedicated" may be the same as his office manager's, namely, "sincere commitment to the job."

Shared definitions of words is, of course, the basis of a "common language." What transforms words from meaningless sounds into meaningful experience is that the people using those words are operating out of similar definitions. While definitions within a language-sharing group are usually similar enough that they can communicate with a high degree of understanding, it is still the case that there can be subtle differences between individuals as to what a particular word means. And as misunderstandings reveal, those differences can be significant even within a group that believes itself to be "speaking the same language." There are always possibilities for misunderstandings because of differences in definition. That does not mean that it is therefore necessary to be as explicit as possible about everything. In casual conversation the slippage between shared words and unshared definitions is often slight or of little consequence. It is only when understanding is essential, as in the case of the annoyed executive above, that it becomes important to make sure that definitions are shared.

For example, in a paper on software design, Mitchell Kapor cites Vitruvius (a Roman critic of architecture) as asserting that a well-designed building fulfills the criteria of "firmness," "commodity," and "delight," then goes on to say that, "The same may be said of good software." But what does it mean to say that a software program (or a building, for that matter) should be "firm," "commodious" and "delightful?" If we want to apply Kapor's analogy to creating good software, we are faced with understanding what "firm," "commodious" and "delightful" software is. Are our ideas in accord with Kapor's intentions? Fortunately, Kapor goes on to explain:

Firmness: A program should not have any bugs that inhibit its function. Commodity: A program should be suitable for the purposes for which it was intended. Delight: the experience of using the program should be a pleasurable one. (Bringing Design to Software, Terry Winograd ed., p.5.)

By defining each of these for us, Kapor more explicitly connects the criteria with our experiences. Through that connection we now have a clearer understanding of what he means. If we are software designers, this specification is necessary if we want to incorporate his understanding of good software design into our own work. This is modeling, the goal of which is to incorporate into ourselves the structure of experience the exemplar is using. When modeling Kapor's approach to software design, we want to use his perceptual filters.

If our experiential filters were already the same as our exemplar, we would probably already be manifesting the same ability he does. Since that is not the case, we can be pretty sure that he is using at least some criteria and definitions that are different from our own. As modelers of his ability, we want to use the same perceptual and experiential filters — created by the criteria and their definitions — he uses to such great advantage, so that our own experiences and responses will come to emulate his when we operate in the context of the ability.

The examples we have been using and the way we have been talking about Criteria may suggest that equivalence relationships are something that we are conscious of. In fact, most of our equivalence (and causal) relationships are unconscious and unlanguaged. The act of noticing them brings them into consciousness and (usually at the same time) into language, as well. Nevertheless, we can be guided by our equivalence relationships without having a conscious understanding of what they are. For example, we have often startled corporate executives bent on success by asking them what they mean by "success." Many discover that, though they are devoting much of themselves to fulfilling the criterion of "success," they nevertheless have little or no conscious understanding about what really constitutes success for them. (Consequently, they do not have a way of knowing whether or not they have attained it, a circumstance that contributes significantly to their often feeling "driven.")

Do We Need Both?

Clearly, Criterion and Definition are two sides of the same experiential coin. A Criterion is a label for a certain kind or class of experiences, which is described in the Definition; a Definition is a description of a certain kind or class of experiences, which is labeled by the Criterion. It is the connecting of these two as "equivalent" that gives them meaning. It is legitimate to ask, however, Why is it necessary to go to the trouble of identifying and specifying a Criterion since:

1. A Criterion is a label for a certain kind or class of experiences, and...

2. It is this kind or class of experiences which is, in fact, the primary operating filter on the exemplar's experience (that is, it is the Definition which guides the exemplar's perceptions and experience regardless of what it is labeled).

Is it not sufficient to simply have a description of the kind of experience the exemplar uses to orient his perceptions and behavior when manifesting his ability?

In fact, it is sufficient to have that description. After all, the experience is what you really want, rather than the label for the experience (the Criterion). If you do not have the exemplar's Definition of his Criterion, your only understanding of the experience that Criterion represents will be your own Definition. And your Definition may or may not be one that supports manifesting the ability you are modeling. But you know that the exemplar's Definition does. The Criterion is "only" a label for the exemplar's essential set of experiential filters when operating in the context of the ability.

The usefulness of the Criterion lies precisely in the fact that it is a label for a set of experiences. As one side of an equivalence relationship, to access the label is to access the whole of the relationship, just as taking one side of a coin necessarily brings with it the other side at the same time. (Or, as our colleague, Steve Andreas, aptly describes it, the Criterion is "the handle on the suitcase" of the experience.) And so you can use the Criterion as a simple way to refer to or access what may well be an extensive and detailed description of an essential experience of the exemplar's, instead of having to recapitulate the description every time you need it.

DEFINITION AND MODELING ABILITIES

The ultimate goal of modeling is to alter your own structure of experience to match that of your exemplar when he is manifesting his particular ability. As the "beating heart" of most abilities, the Criterion is critical to this structure. And, as we discussed above, the purpose of defining the Criterion is to help ensure that you are operating out of your exemplar's perceptual filters, rather than your own.

For example, recall the example of the Criterion "contrast" for noticing that there is a picture to be taken. Derek's exemplar defined "contrast" as any adjacent and marked difference in brightness, color, shape, texture, content, and so on. For many of us, the notion of contrast — particularly in the context of taking pictures — meant differences in brightness, and perhaps color. Without the exemplar's Definition to (literally) open our eyes to his much wider range of the notion of contrast, we could use his Criterion but would still miss seeing most of the pictures he sees (those of contrasting shapes, textures, contents, and so on). Or, we could have the same notion as the photographer that contrast can be seen in many different forms, but have it that it is a "difference" in those forms, rather than a "marked difference." Without the exemplar's qualifying "marked," we would discover possible photographs of slight differences that the exemplar would probably have ignored as not being worthy of a photograph. Again, if your intention is to replicate the exemplar's ability, you need to operate out of the exemplar's Definition of the Criterion.

As we know, Lenny's Criterion in focus in the context of maintaining his diet is that it is "working." When we asked him what "working" means, he defined it as "My blood is regulated and consistent":

His Definition is very much in line with what is suggested by the Criterion; the Definition describes something that is ongoing, rather than an event or end point. And, again, that matters. Suppose instead that the experience you are evaluating as "working" has the quality of an event or end point, such as "My blood numbers are perfect," "My blood is controlled," or "I'm free of any symptoms." These experiences are much more likely to generate negative evaluations. The normal ebbs and flows of life, behavior, the weather and blood chemistry ensure that your blood numbers will fluctuate, and that there will be moments when you are not feeling just as you would like. Each of these fluctuations and off moments become instances of the diet not working. And after enough instances of "it's not working," it becomes tempting to abandon the effort. The dynamic is the same as that of someone on a weight-loss diet who is evaluating whether or not he is "slim." The answer is "no" until he is slim. If it will take a year to get there, that is a year's worth of "no." That is a lot for anyone to endure, and can quickly become dispiriting.

In contrast, the experience on which Lenny focuses his attention — "my blood is regulated and consistent — suggests he is monitoring and adjusting a range within which he wants to keep his blood. Even with the vagaries of life and blood chemistry, this means that most of the time his Criterion will be satisfied. Indeed, his blood varying provides him the opportunity to have the experience he wants (satisfy his Criterion) by giving him occasions to take steps to regulate his blood back to within the acceptable range. Lenny's particular Definition of "working" gives him a lot of ongoing "yes's," and this naturally reinforces his efforts and supports his maintaining his diet.

Evidence of Fulfillment

In the combative 60s, during an interview with rock musician Frank Zappa, talk show host Joe Pyne (who had a wooden leg) smugly said to Zappa, "I see you have long hair. You must be a girl." Zappa coolly replied, "I see you have a wooden leg. You must be a table."

Suppose that you are hammering a nail into a board. Your goal is to hammer that nail until it is flush with the surface of the board, that is, until the head of the nail is at the same level as the surface of the board. The Criterion is "flush," and the Definition is "head at the same level as the surface of the board." Now, how do you know when to stop pounding on that nail head? The answer seems so obvious as to not be worth asking: clearly, you stop when you see that the head of the nail is at the same level as the surface of the board. But suppose you are blind. Now, how do you know when the nail head is flush? The Criterion and its Definition remain the same, but seeing the nail head at the same level as the surface of the board can no longer serve as evidence that the nail is flush. Instead, perhaps you feel with your fingers that the top of the nail head is at the same level as the surface of the board. Or you hear the sound suddenly shift from a metallic clang to a dull thump when the nail is struck. Or you feel a heavy reverberation through your arm and body when the hammer finally hits the nail all the way into the board. (These examples are not inventions. Professional house framers are often already looking at the next nail they will place while they continue to hammer in the current nail. They know by sound and feel when it is flush.)

Similarly, how do you know when the dishes are clean? What is your evidence? Do you look for food or spots? Or perhaps you run your hand over their surfaces, feeling for grease. Or perhaps simply being told they have been washed is sufficient. How do you know when a peach is ripe? By the amount of green relative to the reds and oranges? Or do you squeeze it to feel how much "give" it has? Or smell it? Or maybe it is the sign over the bin that says the fruit is ripe? We understand that some years ago the Canadian telephone company offered a telephone that few people wanted. Customers considered the phone to be "cheaply made." The phone company discovered that this impression was the result of the telephone's light weight. They had assumed that the light weight would be seen as something positive, a benefit of advanced technology. To the customers, however, being plastic and light was evidence of "cheap goods." The phone company responded by adding lead weights to the telephone, and it immediately became more acceptable to their customers.

If we want our Criteria met (which we do), then we need a basis for knowing when that has happened (or is happening, if it is an ongoing Criterion). The "when" is specified by the Evidence of Fulfillment:

Evidence of Fulfillment is what must be seen, heard, and/or felt to know that a Criterion is being met.

For the sake of simplicity, we will usually leave "taste" and "smell" out when talking about the sensory systems. But of course they are there, and may be essential Evidence for certain Criteria.

Unlike Criteria and Definitions, which tend to be abstractions, the Evidence is described in terms of sensory experience. That is, associated with each of your Criteria are particular visual, auditory and kinesthetic experiences that — for you — mean your Criterion is satisfied ("fulfilled," "there," "happening," etc.). Of course, all of your sensory systems are operating all the time (even when you sleep). This is more sensory experience than you can attend to in consciousness. So, as you move from context to context, you attend to only certain aspects of your sensory experience, to those aspects you have learned are meaningful with respect to your Criterion.

In our hammering example, for instance, the novice carpenter hears the same sounds and feels the same reverberations in his arm that an expert carpenter hears and feels, but they do not mean to him that the nail is flush. He has not yet learned to connect those experiences with the Criterion of "flush." Instead, he relies on seeing the surface of the nail head matching the board surface as evidence that the nail is flush. Out of the richness of sensory experiences available to him at that time, he is attending to what he sees. That is how he will know that the nail is "flush." And as the example of the professional carpenter shows, it is just one of many ways to know that.

Our sensory experiences are constantly shifting with the infinite subtle variations of the moment. It would be impossible to specify everything that a person is experiencing at the sensory level in connection with their Criterion. What is possible, however, is to discover what sensory experiences must be there for that person to accept that his Criterion is met.

THE RANGE OF EVIDENCE

In the examples of Evidence we have considered so far, what "must be there" has been limited to what the person sees, hears and feels with his senses. But we can also represent images, sounds and feelings in imagination. All of us see, hear and feel things on the "inside," as well as the "outside." So, in addition to actually seeing your mother, hearing her speak to you, feeling her hand stroke your head and smelling her scent, you can also imagine seeing her delight, hearing her gasp and feeling the hug she will give you when you tell her some good news. And these internally generated experiences can be as meaningful and compelling as anything we perceive through our senses.

Evidence for a particular Criterion is not determined by what the Criterion is. It is determined by who is using it. What you consider Evidence of "understanding," or "success," or "a good idea" depends upon what life has taught you are reliable indicators of those — or any — Criteria. Some of that teaching comes directly from others, of course, as when a father tells his son, "You will know you are a success when people say they are better off for having known you." Even then, however, the son will refine this Evidence and make it his own through his experiences of trying to live "through" that Criterion. For instance, he may come to know that he is a success only when a certain number of people express they are better off for knowing him; or he may discover that there are certain ways to say it that are sincere and matter, others that are not to be credited; or he may discover that people have ways of expressing it without having to say it directly. However it comes about, we will have Evidence for our Criteria (or, if the Criterion is new to us, we will seek Evidence for it and soon have it).

Living on the same planet, sharing the same language, sharing the same culture, and even sharing the same Criterion do not guarantee that you and another person will also share the same Evidence. One of the authors called in a plumber to fix the bathtub, which was taking 20 minutes to empty. The plumber filled the tub with water and opened the drain. The usual gurgling began as the water trickled down the drain, and after a few seconds the plumber announced, "It seems to be working just fine." When the author pointed out that the water level in the tub was hardly dropping, the plumber explained, "Listen, you hear that sound the drain is making? That's what it sounds like when it's draining properly." And he was not kidding. And of course, we are never kidding about our Evidence. It is the basis for knowing and, so, not something to be trifled with, nor is it easily abandoned. If the "threshold" of Evidence is crossed — that is, the sights, sounds and sensations that matter are "there" — then the Criterion is satisfied. And so are we.

Threshold

So far we have been talking about Evidence as though it is always a "there/not there" proposition. And of course, sometimes it is. If you are hammering in a nail, it is either flush or it is not. Similarly, if the way you know that you are having a good workout is "I'm doing more repetitions than I did during my last workout," then you are either doing more repetitions or you are not. But the richness and complexity of human experience does not always (rarely, we would say) make it reducible to such clearly defined Evidence. Often there is a range of experience that will satisfy a Criterion.

In some cases a person will need to have "enough" of a particular experience in order to cross the subjective threshold between "Criterion not satisfied" and "Criterion satisfied." An example is that of Testing for a good workout by "I'm sweating." Where the threshold is between "sweating" and "not sweating" will vary depending upon the individual. For some of us a thin film of dampness is "sweating," and for others you aren't sweating until your shirt is sopping and water is pooling at your feet.

Threshold may also be reached when one experiences enough of the set of experiences that they consider Evidence. For instance, someone asked how he knows his workout is good may say, "When I'm doing more repetitions than I did during my last workout is one way. Also, sometimes I can tell because my muscles are sore the next day. And it could even be that people are telling me I'm looking fit." In this case, having any one of these experiences can be enough to cross the threshold of criteria satisfaction. And, of course, upon gathering more information from this exemplar we may discover that experiencing any one of these assorted experiences is not enough, but if two or more are in evidence, his Criterion is satisfied.

EVIDENCE AND MODELING ABILITIES

As modelers, our goal is not to capture every detail of the exemplar's experience; our goal is to capture the structure that generates those details. Criteria are an essential element of that structure. But they are also abstractions that cover a lot of possible ground. That experiential ground becomes a lot firmer when we add the Definition. Still, when modeling, we do not want to leave to chance that our interpretation of what those experiences are — in terms of seeing, hearing and feeling — is the same as the exemplar's. We want what we attend and respond to — the Evidence — to match that of our exemplar.

Evidence serves as much more than an experiential checkered flag, letting the exemplar know that the race to satisfy his Criterion has been won. From the moment he enters the context of his ability, his Evidence establishes what specific sensory aspects of his experience he will attend to in order to satisfy his Criterion. The professional house framer, for instance, is looking at the nail heads relative to the surface of the board, listening to the ring of the nail when it is struck, and feeling the reverberations of each strike. If we want to emulate an expert framer's ability to hammer nails, these are the sensory representations we will need to attend to as well.

Evidence always comes relatively specified. No matter what your exemplar describes as his Evidence, it can always be made more specific. For instance, take the person above who knows he is attractive to others when, "I can see that the other person is enjoying being with me." By making him be more specific about just what he is "seeing," perhaps he reveals that the other person is "smiling and laughing." But of course, this can be made more specific as well: "The corners of the person's mouth are pulled back toward his ears, I can see at least some of his teeth, and wrinkles appear in the corner of his eyes."

When is enough, enough? When you can do what your exemplar does, as we discussed in Getting Started. A model is a way of describing the structure of the exemplar's experience so as to give you access to the same experience. And so the Evidence is sufficiently specified when you can access the same kind of representations as your exemplar. His saying, "I can see that the other person is enjoying being with me," may not be enough for you know what to pay attention to. "Smiling and laughing" may be enough, and "the corners of the person's mouth are pulled back toward his ears, etc." may be more than you need.

This relative specificity is nicely illustrated by Lenny's Evidence that his diet is "working," which is, "I feel energetic, and I'm conscious and have clarity of mind":

Obviously, "I feel energetic, I'm conscious and have clarity of mind" could all be further specified, detailing their kinesthetic, visual and auditory nuances. Is this necessary? In the case of "feel energetic" and "clarity of mind," probably not. Most of us know what it is to have those experiences. What he is referring to with "I'm conscious," is not so clear. When we had him specify that further, he explained that by "conscious" he means he is aware of, and responsive to, what is going on around him. Again, we can relate to this in our own experience and, so probably do not need to specify it any further at this point.

(Of course, when it comes time to take on the model for the ability you may discover an element that you thought you understood but for which you actually need more specification. And so you may need to gather this additional information from your exemplar. There is no way to know for sure before you take on the ability just exactly what you will need. The process of "stepping in" will give you a good idea, however. The process of modeling naturally includes at least some of the acquisition phase. These issues are taken up in more detail in the essay, Working Models.)

In terms of structure, what jumps out at us is that Lenny is using evidence that is ongoing and internal. This is in marked contrast to the Evidence used by many diabetics, which comes in the form of a read-out from "sticks" (daily self-administered blood tests). If the read-out number is outside a certain range, the diet or drug regimen is askew and needs correction. These folks are using evidence that is periodic and external. Depending upon the daily sticks for feedback about the state of their blood may lead them to be unaware of, ignore or explain away subtle shifts in how they are feeling. This may result in their enduring bigger swings in blood sugar — and a bumpier quality of experience — than Lenny. His ongoing and internal Evidence attunes him to the subtle ebbs and flows of his internal state.

The fact that his Evidence is internally generated is, itself, significant. He is not dependent upon the external world to know how he is. If instead he knew his diet was working when "people tell me I'm looking great," for example, he could make some (serious) inappropriate judgements about how his diet is working just because some people won't notice that he looks great (or terrible), or notice but not think to mention it, or tell him he looks great (not wanting to alarm him because he, in fact, looks terrible), and so on.

It is also significant in terms of Lenny's ability to maintain his diet that his Evidence is about the quality of his experience, rather than, say, the read-out on a glucometer. The diet is not about controlling diabetes. Of course, that is why he is on the diet, and what is happening through being on it, but that is not where his attention is. Lenny's Evidence for "working" means that for him the diet is about maintaining the quality of his experience. If the diet was (subjectively) about controlling the diabetes, then when it appeared to be controlled there would be a temptation to become lax in following the diet: "The diabetes is under control — I can let go." The quality of Lenny's experience, however, is always shifting and ever-present, and so supports his maintaining the diet by giving him relatively frequent feedback of the need to do something. If the Criterion is to be fulfilled, something must be done. And not just anything.

Enabling Cause-Effect

"Dreaming won't get you to Damascus, sir, but discipline will."

— Maj. Allenby advises Prince Faisal in "Lawrence of Arabia"

While our countless equivalence relationships identify what "things" in our experience are ("this means that"), our equally countless causal relationships specify how those "things" affect each other: "this causes that." If you think of equivalence relationships as the threads of your experience, then causal relationships are the weaving of those threads. And together they create the fabric of your reality.

Because a Criterion is by definition important, those situations in life to which it is applied will certainly generate many causal connections. For instance, if it is important to you to be "understood," your life experiences with trying to fulfill that Criterion may have taught you that you need to express yourself with a shared vocabulary in order to be understood. Or you may have discovered along the way that one needs to organize ideas hierarchically in order to be understood, or that one must wait until people are in a sufficiently receptive mood in order to understand you, or that you need to believe in what you are saying in order to be understood, and so on. In short, the need to satisfy a Criterion makes it very likely that we have made causal connections between that Criterion and the circumstances or events that we consider will lead to it being satisfied. We acquire causal beliefs about what must be true, what we must do, or what must happen in order for the criterion to be satisfied. For example:

If we consider the Criterion as the destination, then the cause-effects map the route. They are our beliefs about the way to get us to the destination. The way to get to "self-respect" in others is via "trusting" them. The road to "accomplishing anything" is paved with "hard work." And "people will like you" if you take the path of "liking people." The impact of these cause-effects is to instruct or organize our behavior along certain lines. The person who believes "When you trust people, they learn self-respect" (and wants to foster self-respect) will endeavor to trust others; the person who believes "You can accomplish anything if you work hard" (and wants to accomplish something) will endeavor to work hard, and so on.

Obviously, it is not the case that trusting someone will necessarily foster self-respect in that particular person. There are countless variables operating between — and on — any two people; some of these variables have their origin in personal psychologies and others have their origin in the circumstances of the moment. What the cause-effect does reveal, however, is where this person's perceptual, cognitive and behavioral attention is when he is trying to foster self-respect. It is on "trusting the person." For this reason, we term these causal connections "Enabling Cause-Effects."

Enabling Cause-Effects specify the conditions believed necessary to satisfy the Criterion.

"Conditions" covers a lot of ground, so this a good point to remind ourselves of the distinction between "belief" and "behavior." Beliefs are the assumptions we hold about the relationships between things; behavior is what we actually do with our bodies (which includes gestures, expressions, movements, verbalizations, tonality and so on). Both are necessary to manifest an ability. Beliefs are expressed through behavior; behavior is directed by beliefs. Beliefs without behaviors are expressionless; behaviors without beliefs are aimless. The Enabling Cause-Effect does not specify the specific behaviors the person engages in. Rather, it identifies what goals or outcomes or conditions this person believes must be met so that the Criterion can be satisfied.

The range of what can serve as an Enabling Cause-Effect is as broad as experience itself. It can be anything from the grandest abstraction ("Philosophy makes possible self-respect"), to the humblest particular ("Telling someone that they are nicely dressed leads to self-respect"). Despite the enormous difference in specificity between "philosophy" and "tell him he is nicely dressed," in both instances we are being told on what this person is focusing his attention in his effort to fulfill his Criterion.

ENABLING CAUSE-EFFECT AND MODELING ABILITIES

Earlier we likened the structure of experience to the weaving of fabric. The threads are our Criteria, and the weaving together of those threads are our Cause-Effects. If we want to reproduce a particular tapestry — as we do when we model an exemplar — it is essential to have the correct threads. But it is also essential to know how to correctly weave those threads together. In modeling, we want to know not only what our exemplar considers important, but what they need to do about it. We want to know their cause-effects.

If we were reproducing an actual fabric it would be tedious to individually specify each and every intertwining of threads as we recreate the whole piece. It is more efficient to identify the patterns of how the threads are woven. Similarly, we do not want to identify every twist and turn in our exemplar's thinking and experience. Rather, we want to discover the patterns that govern how those twists and turns are taken. Granted, what we weave from using these patterns will not be an exact reproduction of the exemplar's experience. To do that we would in fact have to duplicate every thread and every intertwining.

There are several good reasons for not taking that approach and instead relying on the formative patterns. The first is that the tremendous complexity of human experience would make specifying every cause-effect an impossible task. The second reason is that it is unnecessary. Our ultimate goal in modeling the exemplar is to be able to attain the same kinds of outcomes he attains; it is not to say and do exactly the same things the exemplar would say and do. So, we do not need to know everything.

The third reason is that, even if we could reproduce all of the exemplar's cause-effects (and criteria), we would be ill-advised to do so. It is not the intention of modeling to churn out duplicate people, as if we were churning out Ken and Barbie dolls. Instead, the intention is to make new experiential structures available so that anyone (who wants to) can express who she or he is through those structures. The model brings only a structure; and this structure can only be given life through the unique qualities of the person using the model. Inevitably, the nuances of expression and behavior characteristic of the person manifesting an ability he is acquiring will be somewhat different from those of the exemplar. And, in this way, each person who reproduces the exemplar's ability is also bringing something new into the world.

So, what we want to discover from our exemplar are those cause-effects that are essential, those that are most responsible for organizing the exemplar's experience and behavior when trying to satisfy his Criterion. For Lenny, "You have to maintain the focus and discipline if you want the diet to work":

At first blush, the Enabling Cause-Effect seems obvious. We might be tempted to consider the cause-effect trivial because everyone knows you have to follow a diet to get its benefits. But does everyone believe that? Remember, when we speak of "believing" here, we are talking about those equivalence and causal relationships on which our experience is based, and that drive our behavior. That is, they are "real" or "true" for us. We can know that one has to follow a diet to gain its benefits without that cause-effect being real for us. It is simply information that has no purchase on our behavior. (Even believing that it is something you should believe is not the same as believing it. We will explore this more fully in the essay, Acquisition.)

Clearly, for Lenny, the causal connection between "maintaining the focus and discipline" of the diet and it "working" is not merely an idea or imposed rule; it is real and true for him. It is also clear that many people trying to maintain a diet regimen (or any regimen, for that matter) do not have this same Enabling Cause-Effect operating, and the consequence is both subtle and significant. Without it the cause (the "agency") will not be considered to be the person, but the diet itself. It is the diet that 'causes' the blood sugar to stabilize (or weight to be lost, or increased muscle mass, or better energy). And so, when the person finds that he is not meeting his intended goal (satisfying his Criterion), it is easy and natural to search for another diet, "one that will work." For Lenny, however, discovering that his diet is not "working" means that he has not been adequately maintaining the focus and discipline, and that he must resume them in order to get it working again. (Remember that Lenny has personal experience that the diet does work for him when he keeps to it. There are countless diets being promulgated, but even fierce focus and discipline will be of no benefit if the diet itself cannot be used to reach your goals, whether these are the regulation of blood sugar, losing weight, building muscle, getting healthy, etc. A diet of ice cream isn't going to do Lenny any good, no matter how focused and disciplined he is. A further consideration is that a change of eating, of whatever type, can often have a beneficial effect initially; so short term benefits cannot be taken to guarantee long-term benefits.)

If all that sounds like a lot of work for Lenny, well, it is. To know what keeps him — or anyone — pursuing his Criterion, we turn to the Motivating Cause-Effect.

Motivating Cause-Effect

The most important motive for work in school and in life is pleasure in work, pleasure in its result, and the knowledge of the value of the result to the community.

— Albert Einstein

An experience to which all of us can personally attest is that of knowing what to do and yet not doing it. Rusting exercise equipment, dusty piano keys, stacks of unread books, overgrown gardens, snow drifts of unpaid bills, fading voices of friends, attractive people allowed to walk away, swallowed insults, poor negotiations, missed investments, unwritten books...all mutely shake their fingers at us in reproach.

And that's okay. The fact is that none of us has enough time and energy to make everything equally important. Unavoidably, we attend to fulfilling some goals and leave others waiting in the wings. We want to give those behavioral ingenues their chance out on stage, but it is already crowded with the dancers we know. We suspect — perhaps even know — that those yet to be tried will be wonderful. And so we think we are being reluctant or fearful or slothful, that we must be avoiding the unpleasantness of work, risk, unfamiliarity. Even so, every day we do tackle many things that are difficult, unpleasant, or unfamiliar. We may even take on an onerous task with eagerness and determination, apparently ignoring the effort it demands. How does that happen?

Think of something you did recently even though it was difficult or unpleasant. Now consider, Why did you do it? You undoubtedly had "a reason" that was compelling enough to motivate you to do it. Recently, one of the authors felt he had to say no to a project that he had previously agreed to do. He knew he would disappoint his colleagues greatly, and knew it would be unpleasant to do so. What motivated him to tell the awful truth?: "It was a matter of self-respect. I didn't feel I could respect myself if I didn't do what I thought was right for me." For him, "self-respect" was intrinsically important, and more compelling than his fears about disappointing his colleagues.

If you consider in your own example the reason you did something despite its otherwise daunting difficulties, you will probably recognize that the reason expressed something intrinsically important to you. It expressed or related to some aspect of who you are and was, therefore, naturally compelling. In that particular situation, that compelling reason was your Motivating Cause-Effect:

Motivating Cause-Effects specify intrinsically important criteria that are significantly affected by the Criterion in focus.

In a Motivating Cause-Effect, the fulfillment of the Criterion-in-focus for the specific context contributes or leads to the fulfillment of the "larger," intrinsically important criterion. The need or desire to fulfill the intrinsic criterion motivates the person to pursue satisfying the Criterion: "It is necessary to be honest with myself and others in order to respect myself."

In fact, both sides of the Motivating Cause-Effect are criteria, but they serve different functions. The Criterion in focus establishes what is essential to evaluate and fulfill when operating in a specific context ("honesty," in the example of the author speaking with his colleagues). The intrinsically motivating criterion, is what is essential to fulfill across most or all contexts. Again using our example, for the author "self-respect" is essential not only when he is interacting with his colleagues, but also when exploring the depths of his humanity, vying for parking spaces, and on and on. Intrinsically motivating criteria are often descriptive of personal identity, and are often subjectively experienced as "deeper," "higher," "what it's all about" or "more me" than are context-specific Criteria. (Indeed, they may very well be criteria that go to the very core of who you are: self-concept, identity, personality, soul.) To not fulfill — let alone violate — such criteria is extremely unpleasant.

Of course, this does not mean that we are always using our motivating criteria to overcome our reluctance to satisfying the Criterion in focus. In fact, in most cases the Criterion in focus is both painless and contributes to the satisfaction of an intrinsically important criterion. For instance, consider a person who, when weeding his garden believes it important to "do a thorough job, getting all the roots out, so you will have less work in the future." For him, this does not necessarily mean that being thorough is an onerous burden that has to be overcome by the promise of less future work. For him, being thorough might be "just something that needs to be done," and being thorough is worth doing because it will mean less work later on.

Sometimes the Criterion in focus may also be the motivating criterion. For example, a person for whom "caring" is intrinsically important finds herself sitting up with a friend whose father has died. The focus of her attention is on caring for her friend. She is not caring in order to help her friend evolve, or to grow as a person herself, or bring peace to the world. She needs no motivation to care for her friend; caring is in and of itself intrinsically motivating for her.

Though "motivating criteria" sound like what we commonly think of as "values," they are not. Values are criteria that we apply across most or all contexts. It may be that an individual's motivating criterion is a value (a criterion the person applies to his life across all contexts). But motivating criteria can also be less lofty; intrinsically important, but not across all contexts. For instance, the weeder in our example above can be motivated by the promise of less work in the future without "less future work" being one of his values. It does seem to be true, however, that motivating criteria that are also values are more compelling than those that are not.

MOTIVATING CAUSE-EFFECT AND MODELING ABILITIES

The essential cause-effects are those that are most responsible for organizing the exemplar's experience and behavior when he is trying to satisfy his Criterion. The power of these cause-effects — indeed, the power of all beliefs — resides in their ability to organize an enormous set of responses at every level of our experience and behavior.

The organizing significance of Motivating Cause-Effects is obvious: they get us to do. With respect to modeling, unless you have the motivation to engage in an ability, you are not likely to acquire it, even if you can access its structure in yourself. Being capable is not the same thing as being willing; both are necessary for an ability to manifest itself.

For Lenny, maintaining the focus and discipline required by his diet, as well as paying daily attention to whether or not it is working, is no picnic. Taking the medication would be easier. What compels him to stick to his diet? When we asked him why it is important that his diet is "working," he explained, "So I can have the life I want to have, rather than the one I don't want to have":

In most present moments, Lenny is probably just fine. He feels energetic, conscious and clear; he feels good. It is also in the present that a pint of ice cream looks good. For most of us, feeling okay in the present and wanting the ice cream can lead to thoughts such as, "I'm feeling good, so maybe I don't need to be so careful today. And so what if I eat this ice cream now? It's just this once; no real big deal. And I deserve a little pleasure." As long as the significance of eating the ice cream is evaluated in the time frame of the present, it is probably going to get eaten.

But of course, it is in the present that we are also choosing the future. Lenny's Motivating Cause-Effect makes a direct connection between the choices he makes in the present regarding "maintaining the focus and discipline" needed to keep his diet "working" and his future. We all know that following the diet will be good for us, exercising will be good for us, smoking will be bad for us, and so on. But Lenny believes this; the experience of the causal connection between the working of his diet and his future is real to him. And because of that, when he considers straying from the diet (either because it is a burden in the moment, or because that moment is offering something tempting), the connection between the present and the future helps take him out of the present. The choices of the present are extremely compelling. By adding a real sense of the future, the present compulsion is blunted and Lenny can choose based on a perspective that is driven by the needs of the future, rather than only the desires of the present.

Furthermore, Lenny's Motivating Cause-Effect includes both the future he wants and the future he wants to avoid. This creates the subjective experience of moving toward the future he wants when his diet is working, and moving toward the future he does not want when his diet is not working. As we know from our own experience, avoiding unpleasantness is very motivating. For most of us, avoiding an unpleasant future is more immediately compelling than it is to move toward a pleasant future.

But then why have both? Why not simply have a cause-effect between the diet working and avoiding the unpleasant future? The reason is that continually having to avoid future unpleasantness can itself become oppressively unpleasant. This is what Lenny would be facing many times each day if he represented only the future he wants to avoid. If you try this out in your own experience you will probably find that you quickly get to the point of wanting to avoid (deny) the whole question of what you ought to be doing in the present — "To hell with the whole thing" — and giving up on the diet. Having a future to avoid is very motivating, but having only a future to avoid can become demotivating. By holding a cause-effect relationship between his diet working and both possible futures, Lenny has both the impetus of avoiding the unwanted future and of moving in the direction of the wanted future.

Supporting Beliefs

As we first noted in the section on "Criteria," the exemplar will have many other beliefs operating besides the ones that emerge directly from the Criterion-in-focus. The beliefs that connect to the Criterion-in-focus are essential to manifesting the ability, which is why we capture them in the Belief Template. However, this does not mean that the "other beliefs" are inconsequential. They are certainly of some consequence to the exemplar. They contribute in many subtle ways to his perceptions, choices, experience and behavior when in the context of his ability. And, while these beliefs may not be essential to the structure that makes that ability possible, some of them may still be helpful to us in taking it on. We call these, "Supporting Beliefs":

Supporting Beliefs are beliefs which, though not part of the Belief Template, support the exemplar's expression of the Array.

Unlike the Criterion and its Belief Template, we do not go hunting for Supporting Beliefs. As we have said, if you go hunting for beliefs, you will find them. Lots of them. So instead we notice when Supporting Beliefs are there. Once in awhile, a particular belief jumps out of the crowd of background equivalences and cause-effects. Because we are not looking for every member of the crowd, when one suddenly stands out, there is good reason to take notice of it and consider how significant it is to the exemplar's ability. One reason these beliefs tend to stand out is that they often come neatly packaged in a clear and assertive statement, much like an epigram ("Look before you leap" "He who hesitates is lost").

For example, in one of our modeling seminars, Dee was modeling "Authentic and Respectful Straight-Talking." The Criterion and its Belief Template was:

Some of the Supporting Beliefs were:

"Conversation is catalytic in nature."
"Honesty has more value than comfort."
"We are all human and are all doing our best."
"I love people. They deserve to be able to talk about things. It's a gift to them."

None of these are found in the Belief Template for "authentic and respectful straight-talking," and none of them is necessarily needed in order to operate out of that Belief Template. But when you imagine operating out of it while also believing any or all of the Supporting Beliefs, you will discover that they significantly affect the quality of your experience and your ease in manifesting the ability.

In Lenny's case, his Supporting Beliefs included:

"Insulin is really the enemy. It is more damaging than it is good, in excess amounts."
"I am a diabetic and I'm a diabetic for the rest of my life."
"The [dieting] system only exists because I remember that it does, so I pay attention to it."
"Now I don't have anyone to rely on except myself."

Again, you can operate out of the essential equivalences and cause-effects in Lenny's Belief Template without believing that "insulin is the enemy," or that "I'm a diabetic for life." But the possible usefulness of any of these Supporting Beliefs becomes immediately evident when you step into the context of being a diabetic who is wanting to stick to a diet.

Of course, for Lenny, these Supporting Beliefs are not bells and whistles that have been tacked onto his ability to maintain a diet. They are part and parcel of the whole experiential package involved in regulating his blood sugar. It is difficult to know to what extent his Belief Template and Supporting Beliefs naturally "create one another." But because they are part of the same system, it is likely that in the process of acquiring and operating out of his Template you will generate at least some of those same Supporting Beliefs (or ones that are close to them).

In any case, explicitly knowing your exemplar's Supporting Beliefs can be useful in two ways. The first is that you can make them something you believe as well (drawing upon your own reference experiences; see Acquisition). They work for your exemplar, and so they may do the same for you, giving your ability greater depth and making it more robust from the outset. The second way it can be useful is when you are having difficulty taking on the Array. Checking whether any of the Supporting Beliefs are difficult for you to embrace (or even just accept) can reveal aspects of the ability and its Array that bump up against aspects of you. If so, then at least you will know what you need to accommodate in yourself in order to have full access to the ability. (Again, see Acquisition for some guidance in making that accommodation.)

* * *

Of course, beliefs are not "things," like bricks and mortar are things. In order to have a presence and impact, beliefs must be manifested in some kind of action. This action can be in the form of external behaviors, as when believing "If you treat others with kindness, they will learn kindness" leads you to be kind. Beliefs can also be manifested in internal actions, in the form of patterns of processing information, as when believing "to be successful, I have to know what I really want" leads you to thinking deeply about your future. Clearly, exemplars of an ability have patterns of internal processes and external behaviors that give effective expression to their beliefs. These patterns are their Strategies, which we will explore in the next essay.

Previous Essay      Next Essay