Nearly every great tradition of human knowledge emphasizes the importance of self-restraint.
And it’s easy enough to understand why: curbing our impulses spares others from paying
the price for our bad moods and rash choices, ​and protects our future selves from the
long-term consequences of short-sighted decision-making.
Extend that reasoning to its logical end, and you’ll likely end up where Plato did:
viewing self-restraint not only as vital to individual flourishing,
but a cornerstone of a strong society as well.
And on the flipside, major failures of self-restraint can be calamitous.
"Wrong choices, wrong decisions. That's why this is happening."
Take, for example, Western literature’s most infamously impulsive couple.
From pledging love at their very first encounter - family vendettas be damned - to their untimely, unnecessary
deaths, Romeo and Juliet seemingly never met a destructive decision they didn’t greet with a hat-tip.
And they, and everyone around them, suffered the consequences.
But, as a memorable scene from Homer’s Odyssey demonstrates, not all canonical protagonists
are destined to be doomed by unwise urges.
Knowing the enchanting song of the sirens would inevitably lead him to shipwreck,
Odysseus had his crew bind him tightly to his ship’s mast before passing their island.
In effect, “Odysseus Now,” understanding that “Odysseus Future“ would be compromised,
took action to assure that “Odysseus Future” simply would not be able to succumb to temptation.
Clever, eh?
In fact, it’s such a good strategy that three millennia later, the neuroscientist
David Eagleman has used the so-called “Ulysses Contract” to contextualize what modern brain
research tells us about self-restraint.
Temptation in the now is incredibly powerful, and our best bet for resisting it comes before
the heat of the moment.
It’s why addiction specialists advise drug addicts not to carry cash, and social media-blocking
apps have become a hit with students during finals season.
So it’s good to know that preparation is paramount, but what if temptation strikes unexpectedly?
Are we all doomed to be Capulets or Montagues?
Maybe you’ve heard of Stanford psychologist Walter Mischel’s famed “marshmallow test,”
in which preschoolers who resisted eating one marshmallow for an ultimate reward of two
ended up more successful later in life than those who couldn’t.
Didn’t that prove, when it comes to self-restraint, we either have it or we don’t?
As the mythology of the marshmallow test has grown, its takeaway has widely been characterized as
“character equals destiny.”
But Mischel’s delayed gratification studies - which have lasted half a century and since
expanded far beyond treat-dangling - shouldn’t make us self-control fatalists.
His findings over 50 years, are, naturally, complex, but Mischel came to think of self-restraint
as a muscle that can be developed.
And the best way to flex that muscle is by “cooling” desires when temptation strikes.
That is, reframing an urge or diverting your attention.
It’s enticing to think of self-control as an admirable act of brute willpower, but it’s failing strategy.
Your best bet is turning something that tempts into something else entirely.
In a way, his conclusions and Odysseus’ strategy aren’t so different: creating a barrier -
mental or practical - between yourself and a temptation, is key.
And if you watch enough marshmallow tests, you’ll see these two seemingly disparate methods merge,
as kids create adorable, moment-to-moment Ulysses Contracts of their own.
So the next time you’re battling a detrimental urge, be an Odysseus, forging a cool distance
between you and your lesser desires, rather than a Romeo or Juliet, leading you and everyone
in your orbit into ruin with your ill-thought-out actions.
"A plague on both your houses!"
Your friends, family, future self - and maybe even your society - will thank you.
But, of course, while blood feuds are best left in the 16th century,
once in a while you should just eat the damn marshmallow.
After all, your future self can always go to the gym.