Memory
Reconsidering the Lessons of Memory
Choosing how we remember.
Updated June 20, 2023 Reviewed by Ekua Hagan
Key points
- The memory of an unpleasant incident can make us over-prepare for it happening again.
- Maintaining simple routines to avoid unwanted results makes sense. Maintaining elaborate behaviors does not.
- Engaging in too many behaviors to avoid unpleasantness leaves us with eccentric habits later in life.
Memory for single, specific events can strongly influence our attitudes and behaviors — many years after the occurrence of these events. We draw powerful lessons from individual memories that then guide us in similar situations.
If someone stole a bicycle from our front porch one time, we might make certain to put the bicycle away and never leave it out there again, ever. Even for a few minutes. Even though we may have left the bicycle there dozens of times before the theft, without incident.
We then attribute our change in behavior with the bicycle to the remembered incident, grounding the lesson in a remembered reality.
Specific Memories and the Laws of Probability
Most of us live implicitly in accordance with the laws of probability most of the time, which is rational because these laws are the most dependable on Earth. But an unpleasant incident teaches us that unlikely events do happen, which then encourages us to suspend the laws of probability in some instances. It’s important, after all, to prepare for and prevent threats to our daily life, even if they're unlikely.
Consider a textbook example about the danger of unlikely events. A turkey is fed every day by a farmer, and every day that turkey waits in expectation for food. That expectation makes sense based on the turkey’s prior experience. But one day in late November, as the turkey waits expectantly for food, the farmer comes out and chops off its head.
One lesson is that Thanksgiving is a dangerous time for turkeys, but the more general lesson is that unlikely events do happen once in a while. It’s too late for the turkey, but if memory informs us about these events, and we’re able to adjust our behavior to prevent the unlikely unpleasantness, we often do so.
Reevaluating the Lessons of Memory
After a while, behaviors originating from remembered events become habits, and we no longer think about their efficacy. However, if we find ourselves engaging in more and more behaviors to prevent an increasing number of different unlikelihoods, we should pause and consider what led to these behaviors. For example, I consistently take a longer route to a friend’s house to avoid a railroad crossing because the first time I happened to visit, I waited for a train. But the trains are infrequent, and over the years, I’ve driven many extra miles to avoid an eight-minute delay. This is a lesson of memory I need to reevaluate.
The first step in reevaluating a lesson is to retrieve the original memory of the incident in question.
The next step is to analyze the remembered event, considering three questions. How likely is it that the event will happen again? What are the consequences if the event does recur? How much effort is being expended to prevent a recurrence of the unpleasant unlikelihood?
Memory for an unlikely event is worth maintaining as an influence if the event itself entails a substantial consequence and the preventative behaviors are minimal. Taking a bicycle off the front porch is probably a behavior worth maintaining. However, memories for unlikely events with manageable consequences should be reconsidered for removal from our repertoire of influences, especially if they lead to complicated preventative actions.
We are aware of the expression, “Fool me once, shame on you — fool me twice, shame on me.” But if being fooled has little cost and preventing the deception involves an elaborate behavioral routine, then we’re better off letting go of that memory’s influence.
Reducing the Clutter of Too Many Lessons
Memory lessons collect over our lives and may eventually become unwieldy. Every so often, we should conduct an inventory of these influencing memories by identifying these lessons, tracing their sources in personal memory, and asking ourselves if the lessons need to be maintained. This inventory will encourage an occasional clear-out to remove the behavioral clutter that memory’s lessons leave behind.
It also helps to identify interpretations that are less likely than the actual remembered events. Years ago, a contact lens slipped off my eye while I was driving home at night on a busy freeway. My compromised vision made the drive difficult, but I could see well enough to make it home. As I thought about the event, I added an extrapolation. What would have happened if the other contact lens had also slipped off? As a nearsighted person, I find this an ominous possibility. Ever since then, I put my eyeglasses in the glove compartment before driving on the freeway at night.
The main lesson in this example arises from an actual incident, but its power comes from the worrisome extrapolation. In fact, the extrapolated event is so rare that it has never actually happened to me. The preventative behavior of taking eyeglasses is simple, but is it necessary? Do I need to maintain this behavior in my ever-expanding repertoire of idiosyncratic cautiousness? Decisions about memory’s lessons are not necessarily straightforward.
General Lessons About the Lessons of Memory
Consciously cutting some behavioral connections to long-term memories can be helpful. If we once ran out of gas many years ago, that doesn’t mean we need to fill the tank every time it approaches half-empty. If we once handed a dinner plate to another person and let go before that person had a solid grip, that doesn’t mean we should prolong our grip on every breakable object we hand to another person.
Specific memories guide us and teach us, but they also leave behind behaviors that attach themselves to us and limit our movements. It's helpful, then, to discard the lessons of memory that have not served us well. In doing so, we may avoid the eccentricities that can fill our later years.