One	question	is	how	early	to	begin.	Some	say	the	first	few	years	of
life	are	none	too	soon.	The	Harvard	pediatrician	T.	Berry	Brazelton
proposes	that	many	parents	can	benefit	from	being	coached	as
emotional	mentors	to	their	infants	and	toddlers,	as	some	home-visit
programs	do.	A	strong	argument	can	be	made	for	emphasizing	social
and	emotional	skills	more	systematically	in	preschool	programs	such
as	Head	Start;	as	we	saw	in
Chapter	12
,	children’s	readiness	to	learn
depends	to	a	large	extent	on	acquiring	some	of	these	basic	emotional
skills.	The	preschool	years	are	crucial	ones	for	laying	foundation
skills,	and	there	is	some	evidence	that	Head	Start,	when	run	well	(an
important	caveat),	can	have	beneficial	long-term	emotional	and	social
effects	on	the	lives	of	its	graduates	even	into	their	early	adult	years—
fewer	drug	problems	and	arrests,	better	marriages,	greater	earning
power.
5
Such	interventions	work	best	when	they	track	the	emotional
timetable	of	development.
6
	As	the	wail	of	newborns	testifies,	babies
have	intense	feelings	from	the	moment	they	are	born.	But	the
newborn’s	brain	is	far	from	fully	mature;	as	we	saw	in
Chapter	15
,
only	as	its	nervous	system	reaches	final	development—a	process	that


,
only	as	its	nervous	system	reaches	final	development—a	process	that
unfolds	according	to	an	innate	biological	clock	over	the	entire	course
of	childhood	and	into	early	adolescence—will	the	child’s	emotions
ripen	completely.	The	newborn’s	repertoire	of	feeling	is
primitive
compared	to	the	emotional	range	of	a	five-year-old,	which,	in	turn,	is
lacking	when	measured	against	the	fullness	of	feelings	of	a	teenager.
Indeed,	adults	all	too	readily	fall	into	the	trap	of	expecting	children	to
have	reached	a	maturity	far	beyond	their	years,	forgetting	that	each
emotion	has	its	preprogrammed	moment	of	appearance	in	a	child’s
growth.	A	four-year-old’s	braggadocio,	for	example,	might	bring	a
parent’s	reprimand—and	yet	the	self-consciousness	that	can	breed
humility	typically	does	not	emerge	until	age	five	or	so.
The	timetable	for	emotional	growth	is	intertwined	with	allied	lines
of	development,	particularly	for	cognition,	on	the	one	hand,	and	brain
and	biological	maturation,	on	the	other.	As	we	have	seen,	emotional
capacities	such	as	empathy	and	emotional	self-regulation	start	to	build
virtually	from	infancy.	The	kindergarten	year	marks	a	peak	ripening
of	the	“social	emotions”—feelings	such	as	insecurity	and	humility,
jealousy	and	envy,	pride	and	confidence—all	of	which	require	the


jealousy	and	envy,	pride	and	confidence—all	of	which	require	the
capacity	for	comparing	oneself	with	others.	The	five-year-old,	on
entering	the	wider	social	world	of	school,	enters	too	the	world	of
social	comparison.	It	is	not	just	the	external	shift	that	elicits	these


comparisons,	but	also	the	emergence	of	a	cognitive	skill:	being	able	to
compare	oneself	to	others	on	particular	qualities,	whether	popularity,
attractiveness,	or	skateboarding	talents.	This	is	the	age	when,	for
example,	having	an	older	sister	who	gets	straight	A’s	can	make	the
younger	sister	start	to	think	of	herself	as	“dumb”	by	comparison.
Dr.	David	Hamburg,	a	psychiatrist	and	president	of	the	Carnegie
Corporation,	which	has	evaluated	some	pioneering	emotional-
education	programs,	sees	the	years	of	transition	into	grade	school	and
then	again	into	junior	high	or	middle	school	as	marking	two	crucial
points	in	a	child’s	adjustment.
7
	From	ages	six	to	eleven,	says
Hamburg,	“school	is	a	crucible	and	a	defining	experience	that	will
heavily	influence	children’s	adolescence	and	beyond.	A	child’s	sense
of	self-worth	depends	substantially	on	his	or	her	ability	to	achieve	in
school.	A	child	who	fails	in	school	sets	in	motion	the	self-defeating
attitudes	that	can	dim	prospects	for	an	entire	lifespan.”	Among	the
essentials	for	profiting	from	school,	Hamburg	notes,	are	an	ability	“to
postpone	gratification,	to	be	socially	responsible	in	appropriate	ways,
to	maintain	control	over	their	emotions,	and	to	have	an	optimistic


outlook”—in	other	words,	emotional	intelligence.
8
Puberty—because	it	is	a	time	of	extraordinary	change	in	the	child’s
biology,	thinking	capacities,	and	brain	functioning—is	also	a	crucial
time	for	emotional	and	social	lessons.	As	for	the	teen	years,	Hamburg
observes	that
“most	adolescents	are	ten	to	fifteen	years	old	when	they
are	exposed	to	sexuality,	alcohol	and	drugs,	smoking,”	and	other
temptations.
9
The	transition	to	middle	school	or	junior	high	marks	an	end	to
childhood,	and	is	itself	a	formidable	emotional	challenge.	All	other
problems	aside,	as	they	enter	this	new	school	arrangement	virtually
all	students	have	a	dip	in	self-confidence	and	a	jump	in	self-
consciousness;	their	very	notions	of	themselves	are	rocky	and	in
tumult.	One	of	the	greatest	specific	blows	is	in	“social	self-esteem”—
students’	confidence	that	they	can	make	and	keep	friends.	It	is	at	this
juncture,	Hamburg	points	out,	that	it	helps	immensely	to	buttress
boys’	and	girls’	abilities	to	build	close	relationships	and	navigate
crises	in	friendships,	and	to	nurture	their	self-confidence.
Hamburg	notes	that	as	students	are	entering	middle	school,	just	on
the	cusp	of	adolescence,	there	is	something	different	about	those	who
have	had	emotional	literacy	classes:	they	find	the	new	pressures	of


peer	politics,	the	upping	of	academic	demands,	and	the	temptations	to
smoke	and	use	drugs	less	troubling	than	do	their	peers.	They	have


mastered	emotional	abilities	that,	at	least	for	the	short	term,	inoculate
them	against	the	turmoil	and	pressures	they	are	about	to	face.
TIMING	IS	ALL
As	developmental	psychologists	and	others	map	the	growth	of
emotions,	they	are	able	to	be	more	specific	about	just	what	lessons
children	should	be	learning	at	each	point	in	the	unfolding	of
emotional	intelligence,	what	the	lasting	deficits	are	likely	to	be	for
those	who	fail	to	master	the	right	competences	at	the	appointed	time,
and	what	remedial	experiences	might	make	up	for	what	was	missed.
In	the	New	Haven	program,	for	example,	children	in	the	youngest
grades	get	basic	lessons	in	self-awareness,	relationships,	and	decision-
making.	In	first	grade	students	sit	in	a	circle	and	roll	the	“feelings
cube,”	which	has	words	such	as
sad
	or
excited
	on	each	side.	At	their
turn,	they	describe	a	time	they	had	that	feeling,	an	exercise	that	gives
them	more	certainty	in	tying	feelings	to	words	and	helps	with
empathy	as	they	hear	others	having	the	same	feelings	as	themselves.
By	fourth	and	fifth	grade,	as	peer	relationships	take	on	an	immense
importance	in	their	lives,	they	get	lessons	that	help	their	friendships
work	better:	empathy,	impulse	control,	and	anger	management.	The
Life	Skills	class	on


Life	Skills	class	on
reading	emotions	from	facial	expressions	that	the
Troup	school	fifth	graders	were	trying,	for	example,	is	essentially
about	empathizing.	For	impulse	control,	there	is	a	“stoplight”	poster
displayed	prominently,	with	six	steps:
Red	light
1.	Stop,	calm	down,	and	think	before	you	act.
Yellow	light
2.	Say	the	problem	and	how	you	feel.

3.	Set	a	positive	goal.

4.	Think	of	lots	of	solutions.

5.	Think	ahead	to	the	consequences.
Green	Light
6.	Go	ahead	and	try	the	best	plan.
The	stoplight	notion	is	regularly	invoked	when	a	child,	for	example,
is	about	to	strike	out	in	anger,	or	withdraw	into	a	huff	at	some	slight,
or	burst	into	tears	at	being	teased,	and	offers	a	concrete	set	of	steps


for	dealing	with	these	loaded	moments	in	a	more	measured	way.
Beyond	the	management	of	feelings,	it	points	a	way	to	more	effective
action.	And,	as	a	habitual	way	of	handling	the	unruly	emotional
impulse—to	think	before	acting	from	feelings—it	can	evolve	into	a
basic	strategy	for	dealing	with	the	risks	of	adolescence	and	beyond.
In	sixth	grade	the	lessons	relate	more	directly	to	the	temptations
and	pressures	for	sex,	drugs,	or	drinking	that	begin	to	enter	children’s
lives.	By	ninth	grade,	as	teenagers	are	confronted	with	more
ambiguous	social	realities,	the	ability	to	take	multiple	perspectives—
your	own	as	well	as	those	of	others	involved—is	emphasized.	“If	a	kid
is	mad	because	he	saw	his	girlfriend	talking	with	another	guy,”	says
one	of	the	New	Haven	teachers,	“he’d	be	encouraged	to	consider	what
might	be	going	on	from	their	point	of	view,	too,	rather	than	just
plunge	into	a	confrontation.”
EMOTIONAL	LITERACY	AS	PREVENTION
Some	of	the	most	effective	programs	in	emotional	literacy	were
developed	as	a	response	to	a	specific	problem,	notably	violence.	One
of	the	fastest-growing	of	these	prevention-inspired	emotional	literacy
courses	is	the	Resolving	Conflict	Creatively	Program,	in	several


courses	is	the	Resolving	Conflict	Creatively	Program,	in	several
hundred	New	York	City	public	schools	and	schools	across	the	country.
The	conflict-resolution	course	focuses	on	how	to	settle	schoolyard
arguments	that	can	escalate	into	incidents	like	the	hallway	shooting	of
Ian	Moore	and	Tyrone	Sinkler	by	their	classmate	at	Jefferson	High
School.
Linda	Lantieri,	the	founder	of	the	Resolving	Conflict	Creatively
Program	and	director	of	the	Manhattan-based	national	center	for	the
approach,	sees	it	as	having	a	mission	far	beyond	just	preventing
fights.	She	says,	“The	program	shows	students	that	they	have	many
choices	for	dealing	with	conflict	besides	passivity	or	aggression.	We
show	them	the	futility	of	violence	while	replacing	it	with	concrete
skills.	Kids	learn	to	stand	up	for	their	rights	without	resorting	to
violence.	These	are	lifelong	skills,	not	just	for	those	most	prone	to
violence.”
10
In	one	exercise,	students	think	of	a	single	realistic	step,	no	matter
how	small,	that	might	have	helped	settle	some	conflict	they	have	had.
In	another	students	enact	a	scene	in	which	a	big	sister	trying	to	do	her
homework	gets	fed	up	with	her	younger	sister’s	loud	rap	tape.	In


frustration	the	older	sister	turns	off	the	tape	despite	the	younger	one’s
protests.	The	class	brainstorms	ways	they	might	work	out	the	problem
that	would	satisfy	both	sisters.
One	key	to	the	success	of	the	conflict-resolution	program	is
extending	it	beyond	the	classroom	to	the	playground	and	cafeteria,
where	tempers	are	more	likely	to	explode.	To	that	end,	some	students
are	trained	as	mediators,	a	role	that	can	begin	in	the	latter	years	of
elementary	school.	When	tension	erupts,	students	can	seek	out	a
mediator	to	help	them	settle	it.	The	schoolyard	mediators	learn	to
handle	fights,	taunts	and	threats,	interracial	incidents,	and	the	other
potentially	incendiary	incidents	of	school	life.
The	mediators	learn	to	phrase	their	statements	in	ways	that	make
both	parties	feel	the	mediator	is	impartial.	Their	tactics	include	sitting
down	with	those	involved	and	getting	them	to	listen	to	the	other
person	without	interruptions	or	insults.	They	have	each	party	calm
down	and	state	their	position,	then	have	each	paraphrase	what’s	been
said	so	it’s	clear	they’ve	really	heard.	Then	they	all	try	to	think	of
solutions	that	both	sides	can	live	with;	the	settlements	are	often	in	the
form	of	a	signed	agreement.
Beyond	the	mediation	of	a	given	dispute,	the	program	teaches


Beyond	the	mediation	of	a	given	dispute,	the	program	teaches
students	to	think	differently	about	disagreements	in	the	first	place.	As
Angel	Perez,	trained	as	a	mediator	while	in	grade	school,	put	it,	the
program	“changed	my	way	of	thinking.	I	used	to	think,	hey,	if
somebody	picks	on	me,	if	somebody	does	something	to	me,	the	only
thing	was	to	fight,	do	something	to	get	back	at	them.	Since	I	had	this
program,	I’ve	had	a	more	positive	way	of	thinking.	If	something’s
done	negative	to	me,	I	don’t	try	to	do	the	negative	thing	back—I	try
to	solve	the	problem.”	And	he	has	found	himself	spreading	the
approach	in	his	community.
While	the	focus	of	Resolving	Conflict	Creatively	is	on	preventing
violence,	Lantieri	sees	it	as	having	a	wider	mission.	Her	view	is	that
the	skills	needed	to
head	off	violence	cannot	be	separated	from	the
full	spectrum	of	emotional	competence—that,	for	example,	knowing
what	you	are	feeling	or	how	to	handle	impulse	or	grief	is	as	important
for	violence	prevention	as	is	managing	anger.	Much	of	the	training
has	to	do	with	emotional	basics	such	as	recognizing	an	expanded
range	of	feelings	and	being	able	to	put	names	to	them,	and
empathizing.	When	she	describes	the	evaluation	results	of	her


empathizing.	When	she	describes	the	evaluation	results	of	her
program’s	effects,	Lantieri	points	with	as	much	pride	to	the	increase	in
“caring	among	the	kids”	as	to	the	drops	in	fights,	put-downs,	and


name-calling.
A	similar	convergence	on	emotional	literacy	occurred	with	a
consortium	of	psychologists	trying	to	find	ways	to	help	youngsters	on
a	trajectory	toward	a	life	marked	by	crime	and	violence.	Dozens	of
studies	of	such	boys—as	we	saw	in
Chapter	15
—yielded	a	clear	sense
of	the	path	most	take,	starting	from	impulsiveness	and	a	quickness	to
anger	in	their	earliest	school	years,	through	becoming	social	rejects	by
the	end	of	grade	school,	to	bonding	with	a	circle	of	others	like
themselves	and	beginning	crime	sprees	in	the	middle-school	years.	By
early	adulthood,	a	large	portion	of	these	boys	have	acquired	police
records	and	a	readiness	for	violence.
When	it	came	to	designing	interventions	that	might	help	such	boys
get	off	this	road	to	violence	and	crime,	the	result	was,	once	again,	an
emotional-literacy	program.
11
	One	of	these,	developed	by	Carol
Kusche	along	with	Mark	Greenberg	at	the	University	of	Washington,	is
the	PATHS	curriculum	(PATHS	is	the	acronym	for	Promoting
Alternative	Thinking	Strategies).	While	those	at	risk	for	a	trajectory
toward	crime	and	violence	are	most	in	need	of	these	lessons,	the
course	is	given	to	all	those	in	a	class,	avoiding	any	stigmatizing	of	a
more	troubled	subgroup.


more	troubled	subgroup.
Still,	the	lessons	are	useful	for	all	children.	These	include,	for
example,	learning	in	the	earliest	school	years	to	control	their
impulses;	lacking	this	ability,	children	have	special	trouble	paying
attention	to	what	is	being	taught	and	so	fall	behind	in	their	learning
and	grades.	Another	is	recognizing	their	feelings;	the	PATHS
curriculum	has	fifty	lessons	on	different	emotions,	teaching	the	most
basic,	such	as	happiness	and	anger,	to	the	youngest	children,	and	later
touching	on	more	complicated	feelings	such	as	jealousy,	pride,	and
guilt.	The	emotional-awareness	lessons	include	how	to	monitor	what
they	and	those	around	them	are	feeling,	and—most	important	for
those	prone	to	aggression—how	to	recognize	when	someone	is
actually	hostile,	as	opposed	to	when	the	attribution	of	hostility	comes
from	oneself.
One	of	the	most	important	lessons,	of	course,	is	anger	management.
The	basic	premise	children	learn	about	anger	(and	all	other	emotions
as	well)	is
that	“all	feelings	are	okay	to	have,”	but	some	reactions	are
okay	and	others	not.	Here	one	of	the	tools	for	teaching	self-control	is
the	same	“stoplight”	exercise	used	in	the	New	Haven	course.	Other
units	help	children	with	their	friendships,	a	counter	to	the	social


units	help	children	with	their	friendships,	a	counter	to	the	social
rejections	that	can	help	propel	a	child	toward	delinquency.


RETHINKING	SCHOOLS:	TEACHING	BY	BEING,	COMMUNITIES
THAT	CARE
As	family	life	no	longer	offers	growing	numbers	of	children	a	sure
footing	in	life,	schools	are	left	as	the	one	place	communities	can	turn
to	for	correctives	to	children’s	deficiencies	in	emotional	and	social
competence.	That	is	not	to	say	that	schools	alone	can	stand	in	for	all
the	social	institutions	that	too	often	are	in	or	nearing	collapse.	But
since	virtually	every	child	goes	to	school	(at	least	at	the	outset),	it
offers	a	place	to	reach	children	with	basic	lessons	for	living	that	they
may	never	get	otherwise.	Emotional	literacy	implies	an	expanded
mandate	for	schools,	taking	up	the	slack	for	failing	families	in
socializing	children.	This	daunting	task	requires	two	major	changes:
that	teachers	go	beyond	their	traditional	mission	and	that	people	in
the	community	become	more	involved	with	schools.
Whether	or	not	there	is	a	class	explicitly	devoted	to	emotional
literacy	may	matter	far	less	than
how
	these	lessons	are	taught.	There	is
perhaps	no	subject	where	the	quality	of	the	teacher	matters	so	much,
since	how	a	teacher	handles	her	class	is	in	itself	a	model,	a	de	facto
lesson	in	emotional	competence—or	the	lack	thereof.	Whenever	a


lesson	in	emotional	competence—or	the	lack	thereof.	Whenever	a
teacher	responds	to	one	student,	twenty	or	thirty	others	learn	a	lesson.
There	is	a	self-selection	in	the	kind	of	teacher	who	gravitates	to
courses	such	as	these,	because	not	everyone	is	suited	by	temperament.
To	begin	with,	teachers	need	to	be	comfortable	talking	about	feelings;
not	every	teacher	is	at	ease	doing	so	or	wants	to	be.	There	is	little	or
nothing	in	the	standard	education	of	teachers	that	prepares	them	for
this	kind	of	teaching.	For	these	reasons,	emotional	literacy	programs
typically	give	prospective	teachers	several	weeks	of	special	training	in
the	approach.
While	many	teachers	may	be	reluctant	at	the	outset	to	tackle	a	topic
that	seems	so	foreign	to	their	training	and	routines,	there	is	evidence
that	once	they	are	willing	to	try	it,	most	will	be	pleased	rather	than
put	off.	In	the	New	Haven	schools,	when	teachers	first	learned	that
they	would	be	trained	to	teach	the	new	emotional	literacy	courses,	31
percent	said	they	were
reluctant	to	do	so.	After	a	year	of	teaching	the
courses,	more	than	90	percent	said	they	were	pleased	by	them,	and
wanted	to	teach	them	again	the	following	year.


wanted	to	teach	them	again	the	following	year.
AN	EXPANDED	MISSION	FOR	SCHOOLS


Beyond	teacher	training,	emotional	literacy	expands	our	vision	of	the
task	of	schools	themselves,	making	them	more	explicitly	society’s
agent	for	seeing	that	children	learn	these	essential	lessons	for	life—a
return	to	a	classic	role	for	education.	This	larger	design	requires,	apart
from	any	specifics	of	curriculum,	using	opportunities	in	and	out	of
class	to	help	students	turn	moments	of	personal	crisis	into	lessons	in
emotional	competence.	It	also	works	best	when	the	lessons	at	school
are	coordinated	with	what	goes	on	in	children’s	homes.	Many
emotional	literacy	programs	include	special	classes	for	parents	to
teach	them	about	what	their	children	are	learning,	not	just	to
complement	what	is	imparted	at	school,	but	to	help	parents	who	feel
the	need	to	deal	more	effectively	with	their	children’s	emotional	life.
That	way,	children	get	consistent	messages	about	emotional
competence	in	all	parts	of	their	lives.	In	the	New	Haven	schools,	says
Tim	Shriver,	director	of	the	Social	Competence	Program,	“if	kids	get
into	a	beef	in	the	cafeteria,	they’ll	be	sent	to	a	peer	mediator,	who	sits
down	with	them	and	works	through	their	conflict	with	the	same
perspective-taking	technique	they	learned	in	class.	Coaches	will	use
the	technique	to	handle	conflicts	on	the	playing	field.	We	hold	classes


for	parents	in	using	these	methods	with	kids	at	home.”
Such	parallel	lines	of	reinforcement	of	these	emotional	lessons—not
just	in	the	classroom,	but	also	on	the	playground;	not	just	in	the
school,	but	also	in	the	home—is	optimal.	That	means	weaving	the
school,	the	parents,	and	the	community	together	more	tightly.	It
increases	the	likelihood	that	what	children	learned	in	emotional
literacy	classes	will	not	stay	behind	at	school,	but	will	be	tested,
practiced,	and	sharpened	in	the	actual	challenges	of	life.
Another	way	in	which	this	focus	reshapes	schools	is	in	building	a
campus	culture	that	makes	it	a	“caring	community,”	a	place	where
students	feel	respected,	cared	about,	and	bonded	to	classmates,
teachers,	and	the	school	itself.
12
	For	example,	schools	in	areas	such	as
New	Haven,	where	families	are	disintegrating	at	a	high	rate,	offer	a
range	of	programs	that	recruit	caring	people	in	the	community	to	get
engaged	with	students	whose	home	life	is	shaky	at	best.	In	the	New
Haven	schools,	responsible	adults	volunteer	as
mentors,	regular
companions	for	students	who	are	foundering	and	who	have	few,	if
any,	stable	and	nurturing	adults	in	their	home	life.
In	short,	the	optimal	design	of	emotional	literacy	programs	is	to


In	short,	the	optimal	design	of	emotional	literacy	programs	is	to
begin	early,	be	age-appropriate,	run	throughout	the	school	years,	and
intertwine	efforts	at	school,	at	home,	and	in	the	community.


Even	though	much	of	this	fits	neatly	into	existing	parts	of	the	school
day,	these	programs	are	a	major	change	in	any	curriculum.	It	would
be	naive	not	to	anticipate	hurdles	in	getting	such	programs	into
schools.	Many	parents	may	feel	that	the	topic	itself	is	too	personal	a
domain	for	the	schools,	that	such	things	are	best	left	to	parents	(an
argument	that	gains	credibility	to	the	extent	that	parents	actually
do
address	these	topics—and	is	less	convincing	when	they	fail	to).
Teachers	may	be	reluctant	to	yield	yet	another	part	of	the	school	day
to	topics	that	seem	so	unrelated	to	the	academic	basics;	some	teachers
may	be	too	uncomfortable	with	the	topics	to	teach	them,	and	all	will
need	special	training	to	do	so.	Some	children,	too,	will	resist,
especially	to	the	extent	that	these	classes	are	out	of	synch	with	their
actual	concerns,	or	feel	like	intrusive	impositions	on	their	privacy.
And	then	there	is	the	dilemma	of	maintaining	high	quality,	and
ensuring	that	slick	education	marketers	do	not	peddle	ineptly
designed	emotional-competence	programs	that	repeat	the	disasters	of,
say,	ill-conceived	courses	on	drugs	or	teen	pregnancy.
Given	all	this,	why	should	we	bother	to	try?
DOES	EMOTIONAL	LITERACY	MAKE	A	DIFFERENCE?


DOES	EMOTIONAL	LITERACY	MAKE	A	DIFFERENCE?
It’s	every	teacher’s	nightmare:	one	day	Tim	Shriver	opened	the	local
paper	to	read	that	Lamont,	one	of	his	favorite	former	students,	had
been	shot	nine	times	on	a	New	Haven	street,	and	was	in	critical
condition.	“Lamont	had	been	one	of	the	school	leaders,	a	huge—six
foot	two—and	hugely	popular	linebacker,	always	smiling,”	recalls
Shriver.	“Back	then	Lamont	had	enjoyed	coming	to	a	leadership	club	I
led,	where	we	would	toss	around	ideas	in	a	problem-solving	model
known	as	SOCS.”
The	acronym	is	for	Situation,	Options,	Consequence,	Solutions—a
four-step	method:	say	what	the	situation	is	and	how	it	makes	you	feel;
think	about	your	options	for	solving	the	problem	and	what	their
consequences	might	be;	pick	a	solution	and	execute	it—a	grown-up
version	of	the	stoplight	method.	Lamont,	Shriver	added,	loved
brainstorming	imaginative	but	potentially	effective	ways	to	handle	the
pressing	dilemmas	of	high-school	life,	such	as	problems	with
girlfriends	and	how	to	avoid	fights.
But	those	few	lessons	seemed	to	have	failed	him	after	high	school.
Drifting	on	the	streets	in	a	sea	of	poverty,	drugs,	and	guns,	Lamont	at


twenty-six	lay	in	a	hospital	bed,	shrouded	in	bandages,	his	body
riddled	with	bullet	holes.	Rushing	to	the	hospital,	Shriver	found
Lamont	barely	able	to	talk,	his	mother	and	girlfriend	huddled	over
him.	Seeing	his	former	teacher,	Lamont	motioned	him	to	the	bedside,
and	as	Shriver	leaned	over	to	hear,	whispered,	“Shrive,	when	I	get	out
of	here,	I’m	gonna	use	the	SOCS	method.”
Lamont	went	through	Hillhouse	High	in	the	years	before	the	social-
development	course	was	given	there.	Would	his	life	have	turned	out
differently	had	he	benefited	from	such	an	education	throughout	his
school	years,	as	children	in	New	Haven	public	schools	do	now?	The
signs	point	to	a	possible	yes,	though	no	one	can	ever	say	for	sure.
As	Tim	Shriver	put	it,	“One	thing	is	clear:	the	proving	ground	for
social	problem-solving	is	not	just	the	classroom,	but	the	cafeteria,	the
streets,	home.”	Consider	testimony	from	teachers	in	the	New	Haven
program.	One	recounts	how	a	former	student,	still	single,	visited	and
said	that	she	almost	certainly	would	have	been	an	unwed	mother	by
now	“if	she	hadn’t	learned	to	stand	up	for	her	rights	during	our	Social
Development	classes.”
13


Development	classes.”
13
	Another	teacher	recalls	how	a	student’s
relationship	with	her	mother	was	so	poor	that	their	talks	continually
ended	up	as	screaming	matches;	after	the	girl	learned	about	calming
down	and	thinking	before	reacting,	the	mother	told	her	teacher	that
they	could	now	talk	without	going	“off	the	deep	end.”	At	the	Troup
school,	a	sixth	grader	passed	a	note	to	the	teacher	of	her	Social
Development	class;	her	best	friend,	the	note	said,	was	pregnant,	had
no	one	to	talk	to	about	what	to	do,	and	was	planning	suicide—but	she
knew	the	teacher	would	care.
A	revealing	moment	came	when	I	was	observing	a	seventh-grade
class	in	social	development	in	the	New	Haven	Schools,	and	the
teacher	asked	for	“someone	to	tell	me	about	a	disagreement	they’ve
had	recently	that	ended	in	a	good	way.”
A	plumpish	twelve-year-old	girl	shot	up	her	hand:	“This	girl	was
supposed	to	be	my	friend	and	someone	said	she	wanted	to	fight	me.
They	told	me	she	was	going	to	get	me	in	a	corner	after	school.”
But	instead	of	confronting	the	other	girl	in	anger,	she	applied	an
approach	encouraged	in	the	class—finding	out	what	is	going	on


approach	encouraged	in	the	class—finding	out	what	is	going	on
before	jumping	to	conclusions:	“So	I	went	to	the	girl	and	I	asked	why
she	said	that	stuff.	And	she	said	she	never	did.	So	we	never	had	a
fight.”
The	story	seems	innocuous	enough.	Except	that	the	girl	who	tells
the	tale	had	already	been	expelled	from	another	school	for	fighting.	In


the	past	she
attacked	first,	asked	questions	later—or	not	at	all.	For	her
to	engage	a	seeming	adversary	in	a	constructive	way	rather	than
immediately	wading	into	an	angry	confrontal	is	a	small	but	real
victory.
Perhaps	the	most	telling	sign	of	the	impact	of	such	emotional
literacy	classes	are	the	data	shared	with	me	by	the	principal	of	this
twelve-year-old’s	school.	An	unbendable	rule	there	is	that	children
caught	fighting	are	suspended.	But	as	the	emotional	literacy	classes
have	been	phased	in	over	the	years	there	has	been	a	steady	drop	in
the	number	of	suspensions.	“Last	year,”	says	the	principal,	“there	were
106	suspensions.	So	far	this	year—we’re	up	to	March–there	have	been
only	26.”
These	are	concrete	benefits.	But	apart	from	such	anecdotes	of	lives
bettered	or	saved,	there	is	the	empirical	question	of	how	much
emotional	literacy	classes	really	matter	to	those	who	go	through	them.
The	data	suggest	that	although	such	courses	do	not	change	anyone
overnight,	as	children	advance	through	the	curriculum	from	grade	to
grade,	there	are	discernible	improvements	in	the	tone	of	a	school	and
the	outlook—and	level	of	emotional	competence—of	the	girls	and
boys	who	take	them.


boys	who	take	them.
There	have	been	a	handful	of	objective	evaluations,	the	best	of
which	compare	students	in	these	courses	with	equivalent	students	not
taking	them,	with	independent	observers	rating	the	children’s
behavior.	Another	method	is	to	track	changes	in	the	same	students
before	and	after	the	courses	based	on	objective	measures	of	their
behavior,	such	as	the	number	of	schoolyard	fights	or	suspensions.
Pooling	such	assessments	reveals	a	widespread	benefit	for	children’s
emotional	and	social	competence,	for	their	behavior	in	and	out	of	the
classroom,	and	for	their	ability	to	learn	(see
Appendix	F
	for	details):
E
MOTIONAL	SELF-AWARENESS
•	Improvement	in	recognizing	and	naming	own	emotions
•	Better	able	to	understand	the	causes	of	feelings
•	Recognizing	the	difference	between	feelings	and	actions
M
ANAGING	EMOTIONS
•	Better	frustration	tolerance	and	anger	management


•	Fewer	verbal	put-downs,	fights,	and	classroom	disruptions
•	Better	able	to	express	anger	appropriately,	without	fighting
•	Fewer	suspensions	and	expulsions
•	Less	aggressive	or	self-destructive	behavior
•	More	positive	feelings	about	self,	school,	and	family
•	Better	at	handling	stress
•	Less	loneliness	and	social	anxiety
H
ARNESSING	EMOTIONS	PRODUCTIVELY
•	More	responsible
•	Better	able	to	focus	on	the	task	at	hand	and	pay	attention
•	Less	impulsive;	more	self-control
•	Improved	scores	on	achievement	tests
E
MPATHY:	READING	EMOTIONS
•	Better	able	to	take	another	person’s	perspective
•	Improved	empathy	and	sensitivity	to	others’	feelings
•	Better	at	listening	to	others
H
ANDLING	RELATIONSHIPS
•	Increased	ability	to	analyze	and	understand	relationships
•	Better	at	resolving	conflicts	and	negotiating	disagreements
•	Better	at	solving	problems	in	relationships
•	More	assertive	and	skilled	at	communicating
•	More	popular	and	outgoing;	friendly	and	involved	with	peers
•	More	sought	out	by	peers
•	More	concerned	and	considerate
•	More	“pro-social”	and	harmonious	in	groups
•	More	sharing,	cooperation,	and	helpfulness
•	More	democratic	in	dealing	with	others
One	item	on	this	list	demands	special	attention:	emotional	literacy


One	item	on	this	list	demands	special	attention:	emotional	literacy
programs	improve	children’s
academic
	achievement	scores	and	school


performance.	This	is	not	an	isolated	finding;	it	recurs	again	and	again
in	such	studies.	In	a	time	when	too	many	children	lack	the	capacity	to
handle	their	upsets,	to	listen	or	focus,	to	rein	in	impulse,	to	feel
responsible	for	their	work	or	care	about	learning,	anything	that	will
buttress	these	skills	will	help	in	their	education.	In	this	sense,
emotional	literacy	enhances	schools’	ability	to	teach.	Even	in	a	time	of
back-to-basics	and	budget	cuts,	there	is	an	argument	to	be	made	that
these	programs	help	reverse	a	tide	of	educational	decline	and
strengthen	schools	in	accomplishing	their	main	mission,	and	so	are
well	worth	the	investment.
Beyond	these	educational	advantages,	the	courses	seem	to	help
children	better	fulfill	their	roles	in	life,	becoming	better	friends,
students,	sons	and	daughters—and	in	the	future	are	more	likely	to	be
better	husbands	and	wives,	workers	and	bosses,	parents,	and	citizens.
While	not	every	boy	and	girl	will	acquire	these	skills	with	equal
sureness,	to	the	degree	they	do	we	are	all	the	better	for	it.	“A	rising
tide	lifts	all	boats,”	as	Tim	Shriver	put	it.	“It’s	not	just	the	kids	with
problems,	but	all	kids	who	can	benefit	from	these	skills;	these	are	an
inoculation	for	life.”


inoculation	for	life.”
CHARACTER,	MORALITY,	AMD	THE	ARTS	Of	DEMOCRACY
There	is	an	old-fashioned	word	for	the	body	of	skills	that	emotional
intelligence	represents:
character
.	Character,	writes	Amitai	Etzioni,	the
George	Washington	University	social	theorist,	is	“the	psychological
muscle	that	moral	conduct	requires.”
14
	And	philosopher	John	Dewey
saw	that	a	moral	education	is	most	potent	when	lessons	are	taught	to
children	in	the	course	of	real	events,	not	just	as	abstract	lessons—the
mode	of	emotional	literacy.
15
If	character	development	is	a	foundation	of	democratic	societies,
consider	some	of	the	ways	emotional	intelligence	buttresses	this
foundation.	The	bedrock	of	character	is	self-discipline;	the	virtuous
life,	as	philosophers	since	Aristotle	have	observed,	is	based	on	self-
control.	A	related	keystone	of	character	is	being	able	to	motivate	and
guide	oneself,	whether	in	doing	homework,	finishing	a	job,	or	getting
up	in	the	morning.	And,	as	we	have	seen,	the	ability	to	defer
gratification	and	to	control	and	channel	one’s	urges	to	act	is	a	basic
emotional	skill,	one	that	in	a	former	day	was	called	will.	“We	need	to
be	in	control	of	ourselves—our	appetites,	our	passions—to	do	right	by


others,”	notes	Thomas	Lickona,	writing	about	character	education.
16
“It	takes	will	to	keep	emotion	under	the	control	of	reason.”
Being	able	to	put	aside	one’s	self-centered	focus	and	impulses	has
social	benefits:	it	opens	the	way	to	empathy,	to	real	listening,	to
taking	another	person’s	perspective.	Empathy,	as	we	have	seen,	leads
to	caring,	altruism,	and	compassion.	Seeing	things	from	another’s
perspective	breaks	down	biased	stereotypes,	and	so	breeds	tolerance
and	acceptance	of	differences.	These	capacities	are	ever	more	called
on	in	our	increasingly	pluralistic	society,	allowing	people	to	live
together	in	mutual	respect	and	creating	the	possibility	of	productive
public	discourse.	These	are	basic	arts	of	democracy.
17
Schools,	notes	Etzioni,	have	a	central	role	in	cultivating	character
by
inculcating	self-discipline	and	empathy,	which	in	turn	enable	true
commitment	to	civic	and	moral	values.
18
	In	doing	so,	it	is	not	enough
to	lecture	children	about	values:	they	need	to	practice	them,	which
happens	as	children	build	the	essential	emotional	and	social	skills.	In
this	sense,	emotional	literacy	goes	hand	in	hand	with	education	for
character,	for	moral	development,	and	for	citizenship.
A	LAST	WORD


A	LAST	WORD
As	I	complete	this	book	some	troubling	newspaper	items	catch	my
eye.	One	announces	that	guns	have	become	the	number-one	cause	of
death	in	America,	edging	out	auto	accidents.	The	second	says	that	last
year	murder	rates	rose	by	3	percent.
19
	Particularly	disturbing	is	the
prediction	in	that	second	article,	by	a	criminologist,	that	we	are	in	a
lull	before	a	“crime	storm”	to	come	in	the	next	decade.	The	reason	he
gives	is	that	murders	by	teenagers	as	young	as	fourteen	and	fifteen	are
on	the	rise,	and	that	age	group	represents	the	crest	of	a	mini	baby
boom.	In	the	next	decade	this	group	will	become	eighteen-	to	twenty-
four-year-olds,	the	age	at	which	violent	crimes	peak	in	the	course	of	a
criminal	career.	The	harbingers	are	on	the	horizon:	A	third	article	says
that	in	the	four	years	between	1988	and	1992	Justice	Department
figures	show	a	68	percent	jump	in	the	number	of	juveniles	charged
with	murder,	aggravated	assault,	robbery,	and	forcible	rape,	with
aggravated	assault	alone	up	80	percent.
20
These	teenagers	are	the	first	generation	to	have	not	just	guns	but
automatic	weaponry	easily	available	to	them,	just	as	their	parents’


generation	was	the	first	to	have	wide	access	to	drugs.	The	toting	of


guns	by	teenagers	means	that	disagreements	that	in	a	former	day
would	have	led	to	fistfights	can	readily	lead	to	shootings	instead.	And,
as	another	expert	points	out,	these	teenagers	“just	aren’t	very	good	at
avoiding	disputes.”
One	reason	they	are	so	poor	at	this	basic	life	skill,	of	course,	is	that
as	a	society	we	have	not	bothered	to	make	sure	every	child	is	taught
the	essentials	of	handling	anger	or	resolving	conflicts	positively—nor
have	we	bothered	to	teach	empathy,	impulse	control,	or	any	of	the
other	fundamentals	of	emotional	competence.	By	leaving	the
emotional	lessons	children	learn	to	chance,	we	risk	largely	wasting
the	window	of	opportunity	presented	by	the	slow	maturation	of	the
brain	to	help	children	cultivate	a	healthy	emotional	repertoire.
Despite	high	interest	in	emotional	literacy	among	some	educators,
these
courses	are	as	yet	rare;	most	teachers,	principals,	and	parents
simply	do	not	know	they	exist.	The	best	models	are	largely	outside	the
education	mainstream,	in	a	handful	of	private	schools	and	a	few
hundred	public	schools.	Of	course	no	program,	including	this	one,	is
an	answer	to	every	problem.	But	given	the	crises	we	find	ourselves


and	our	children	facing,	and	given	the	quantum	of	hope	held	out	by
courses	in	emotional	literacy,	we	must	ask	ourselves:	Shouldn’t	we	be
teaching	these	most	essential	skills	for	life	to	every	child—now	more
than	ever?
And	if	not	now,	when?
*
	For	more	information	on	emotional	literacy	courses:	The	Collaborative	for	the	Advancement
of	Social	and	Emotional	Learning	(CASEL,	Department	of	Psychology	(M/C	285),	University
of	Illinois	at	Chicago,	1007	West	Harrison	St.,	Chicago,	IL	60606-7137.


APPENDIX	A
What	Is	Emotion?
A	word	about	what	I	refer	to	under	the	rubric
emotion
,	a	term	whose
precise	meaning	psychologists	and	philosophers	have	quibbled	over
for	more	than	a	century.	In	its	most	literal	sense,	the
Oxford	English
Dictionary
	defines
emotion
	as	“any	agitation	or	disturbance	of	mind,
feeling,	passion;	any	vehement	or	excited	mental	state.”	I	take
emotion
to	refer	to	a	feeling	and	its	distinctive	thoughts,	psychological	and
biological	states,	and	range	of	propensities	to	act.	There	are	hundreds
of	emotions,	along	with	their	blends,	variations,	mutations,	and
nuances.	Indeed,	there	are	many	more	subtleties	of	emotion	than	we
have	words	for.
Researchers	continue	to	argue	over	precisely	which	emotions	can	be
considered	primary—the	blue,	red,	and	yellow	of	feeling	from	which
all	blends	come—or	even	if	there	are	such	primary	emotions	at	all.
Some	theorists	propose	basic	families,	though	not	all	agree	on	them.
The	main	candidates	and	some	of	the	members	of	their	families:
•
Anger:
	fury,	outrage,	resentment,	wrath,	exasperation,	indignation,
vexation,	acrimony,	animosity,	annoyance,	irritability,	hostility,	and,


perhaps	at	the	extreme,	pathological	hatred	and	violence
•
Sadness:
	grief,	sorrow,	cheerlessness,	gloom,	melancholy,	self-pity,
loneliness,	dejection,	despair,	and,	when	pathological,	severe
depression
•
Fear:
	anxiety,	apprehension,	nervousness,	concern,	consternation,
misgiving,	wariness,	qualm,	edginess,	dread,	fright,	terror;	as	a
psychopathology,	phobia	and	panic
•
Enjoyment:
	happiness,	joy,	relief,	contentment,	bliss,	delight,
amusement,	pride,	sensual	pleasure,	thrill,	rapture,	gratification,
satisfaction,	euphoria,	whimsy,	ecstasy,	and	at	the	far	edge,	mania
•
Love:
	acceptance,	friendliness,	trust,	kindness,	affinity,	devotion,
adoration,	infatuation,
agape
•
Surprise:
	shock,	astonishment,	amazement,	wonder
•
Disgust:
	contempt,	disdain,	scorn,	abhorrence,	aversion,	distaste,


revulsion
•
Shame:
	guilt,	embarrassment,	chagrin,	remorse,	humiliation,
regret,	mortification,	and	contrition
To	be	sure,	this	list	does	not	resolve	every	question	about	how	to
categorize	emotion.	For	example,	what	about	blends	such	as	jealousy,
a	variant	of	anger	that	also	melds	sadness	and	fear?	And	what	of	the
virtues,	such	as	hope	and	faith,	courage	and	forgiveness,	certainty	and
equanimity?	Or	some	of	the	classic	vices,	feelings	such	as	doubt,
complacency,	sloth,	and	torpor—or	boredom?	There	are	no	clear
answers;	the	scientific	debate	on	how	to	classify	emotions	continues.
The	argument	for	there	being	a	handful	of	core	emotions	hinges	to
some	extent	on	the	discovery	by	Paul	Ekman,	at	the	University	of
California	at	San	Francisco,	that	specific	facial	expressions	for	four	of
them	(fear,	anger,	sadness,	enjoyment)	are	recognized	by	people	in
cultures	around	the	world,	including	preliterate	peoples	presumably
untainted	by	exposure	to	cinema	or	television—suggesting	their
universality.	Ekman	showed	facial	photos	portraying	expressions	with
technical	precision	to	people	in	cultures	as	remote	as	the	Fore	of	New
Guinea,	an	isolated	Stone	Age	tribe	in	the	remote	highlands,	and


found	people	everywhere	recognized	the	same	basic	emotions.	This
universality	of	facial	expressions	for	emotion	was	probably	first	noted
by	Darwin,	who	saw	it	as	evidence	the	forces	of	evolution	had
stamped	these	signals	in	our	central	nervous	system.
In	seeking	basic	principles,	I	follow	Ekman	and	others	in	thinking	of
emotions	in	terms	of	families	or	dimensions,	taking	the	main	families
—anger,	sadness,	fear,	enjoyment,	love,	shame,	and	so	on—as	cases	in
point	for	the	endless	nuances	of	our	emotional	life.	Each	of	these
families	has	a	basic	emotional	nucleus	at	its	core,	with	its	relatives
rippling	out	from	there	in	countless	mutations.	In	the	outer	ripples	are
moods
,	which,	technically	speaking,	are	more	muted	and	last	far
longer	than	an	emotion	(while	it’s	relatively	rare	to	be	in	the	full	heat
of	anger	all	day,	for	example,	it	is	not	that	rare	to	be	in	a	grumpy,
irritable	mood,	in	which	shorter	bouts	of	anger	are	easily	triggered).
Beyond	moods	are
temperaments
,	the	readiness	to	evoke	a	given
emotion	or	mood	that	makes	people	melancholy,	timid,	or	cheery.
And	still	beyond	such	emotional	dispositions	are	the	outright
disorders
of


disorders
of
	emotion	such	as	clinical	depression	or	unremitting	anxiety,	in
which	someone	feels	perpetually	trapped	in	a	toxic	state.


APPENDIX	B
Hallmarks	of	the	Emotional	Mind
Only	in	recent	years	has	there	emerged	a	scientific	model	of	the
emotional	mind	that	explains	how	so	much	of	what	we	do	can	be
emotionally	driven—how	we	can	be	so	reasonable	at	one	moment	and
so	irrational	the	next—and	the	sense	in	which	emotions	have	their
own	reasons	and	their	own	logic.	Perhaps	the	two	best	assessments	of
the	emotional	mind	are	offered	independently	by	Paul	Ekman,	head	of
the	Human	Interaction	Laboratory	at	the	University	of	California,	San
Francisco,	and	by	Seymour	Epstein,	a	clinical	psychologist	at	the
University	of	Massachusetts.
1
	While	Ekman	and	Epstein	have	each
weighed	different	scientific	evidence,	together	they	offer	a	basic	list	of
the	qualities	that	distinguish	emotions	from	the	rest	of	mental	life.
2
A	Quick	but	Sloppy	Response
The	emotional	mind	is	far	quicker	than	the	rational	mind,	springing
into	action	without	pausing	even	a	moment	to	consider	what	it	is
doing.	Its	quickness	precludes	the	deliberate,	analytic	reflection	that	is
the	hallmark	of	the	thinking	mind.	In	evolution	this	quickness	most
likely	revolved	around	that	most	basic	decision,	what	to	pay	attention
to,	and,	once	vigilant	while,	say,	confronting	another	animal,	making


split-second	decisions	like,	Do	I	eat	this,	or	does	it	eat	me?	Those
organisms	that	had	to	pause	too	long	to	reflect	on	these	answers	were
unlikely	to	have	many	progeny	to	pass	on	their	slower-acting	genes.
Actions	that	spring	from	the	emotional	mind	carry	a	particularly
strong	sense	of	certainty,	a	by-product	of	a	streamlined,	simplified
way	of	looking	at	things	that	can	be	absolutely	bewildering	to	the
rational	mind.	When	the	dust	settles,	or	even	in	mid-response,	we	find
ourselves	thinking,	“What	did	I	do
that	for?”—a	sign	that	the	rational
mind	is	awakening	to	the	moment,	but	not	with	the	rapidity	of	the
emotional	mind.
Since	the	interval	between	what	triggers	an	emotion	and	its
eruption	can	be	virtually	instantaneous,	the	mechanism	that	appraises


perception	must	be	capable	of	great	speed,	even	in	brain	time,	which
is	reckoned	in	thousandths	of	a	second.	This	appraisal	of	the	need	to
act	needs	to	be	automatic,	so	rapid	that	it	never	enters	conscious
awareness.
3
	This	quick-and-dirty	variety	of	emotional	response	sweeps
over	us	virtually	before	we	quite	know	what	is	happening.
This	rapid	mode	of	perception	sacrifices	accuracy	for	speed,	relying
on	first	impressions,	reacting	to	the	overall	picture	or	the	most
striking	aspects.	It	takes	things	in	at	once,	as	a	whole,	reacting
without	taking	the	time	for	thoughtful	analysis.	Vivid	elements	can
determine	that	impression,	outweighing	a	careful	evaluation	of	the
details.	The	great	advantage	is	that	the	emotional	mind	can	read	an
emotional	reality	(he’s	angry	with	me;	she’s	lying;	this	is	making	him
sad)	in	an	instant,	making	the	intuitive	snap	judgments	that	tell	us
who	to	be	wary	of,	who	to	trust,	who’s	in	distress.	The	emotional
mind	is	our	radar	for	danger;	if	we	(or	our	forebears	in	evolution)
waited	for	the	rational	mind	to	make	some	of	these	judgments,	we
might	not	only	be	wrong—we	might	be	dead.	The	drawback	is	that
these	impressions	and	intuitive	judgments,	because	they	are	made	in


these	impressions	and	intuitive	judgments,	because	they	are	made	in
the	snap	of	a	finger,	may	be	mistaken	or	misguided.
Paul	Ekman	proposes	that	this	quickness,	in	which	emotions	can
overtake	us	before	we	are	quite	aware	they	have	started,	is	essential
to	their	being	so	highly	adaptive:	they	mobilize	us	to	respond	to
urgent	events	without	wasting	time	pondering	whether	to	react	or
how	to	respond.	Using	the	system	he	developed	for	detecting
emotions	from	subtle	changes	in	facial	expression,	Ekman	can	track
microemotions	that	flit	across	the	face	in	less	than	a	half	second.
Ekman	and	his	collaborators	have	discovered	that	emotional
expressions	begin	to	show	up	in	changes	in	facial	musculature	within
a	few	thousandths	of	a	second	after	the	event	that	triggers	the
reaction,	and	that	the	physiological	changes	typical	of	a	given
emotion—like	shunting	blood	flow	and	increasing	heart	rate—also
take	only	fractions	of	a	second	to	begin.	This	swiftness	is	particularly
true	of	intense	emotion,	like	fear	of	a	sudden	threat.
Ekman	argues	that,	technically	speaking,	the	full	heat	of	emotion	is
very	brief,	lasting	just	seconds	rather	than	minutes,	hours,	or	days.
His	reasoning	is	that	it	would	be	maladaptive	for	an	emotion	to


His	reasoning	is	that	it	would	be	maladaptive	for	an	emotion	to
capture	the	brain	and	body	for	a	long	time	regardless	of	changing
circumstance.	If	the	emotions
caused	by	a	single	event	invariably
continued	to	dominate	us	after	it	had	passed,	and	regardless	of	what
else	was	happening	around	us,	then	our	feelings	would	be	poor	guides


to	action.	For	emotions	to	last	longer	the	trigger	must	be	sustained,	in
effect	continually	evoking	the	emotion,	as	when	the	loss	of	a	loved
one	keeps	us	mourning.	When	feelings	persist	for	hours,	it	is	usually
as	moods,	a	muted	form.	Moods	set	an	affective	tone,	but	they	are	not
such	strong	shapers	of	how	we	perceive	and	act	as	is	the	high	heat	of
full	emotion.
First	Feelings,	Second	Thoughts
Because	it	takes	the	rational	mind	a	moment	or	two	longer	to
register	and	respond	than	it	does	the	emotional	mind,	the	“first
impulse”	in	an	emotional	situation	is	the	heart’s,	not	the	head’s.	There
is	also	a	second	kind	of	emotional	reaction,	slower	than	the	quick-
response,	which	simmers	and	brews	first	in	our	thoughts	before	it
leads	to	feeling.	This	second	pathway	to	triggering	emotions	is	more
deliberate,	and	we	are	typically	quite	aware	of	the	thoughts	that	lead
to	it.	In	this	kind	of	emotional	reaction	there	is	a	more	extended
appraisal;	our	thoughts—cognition—play	the	key	role	in	determining
what	emotions	will	be	roused.	Once	we	make	an	appraisal—“that	taxi
driver	is	cheating	me”	or	“this	baby	is	adorable,”	a	fitting	emotional
response	follows.	In	this	slower	sequence,	more	fully	articulated


response	follows.	In	this	slower	sequence,	more	fully	articulated
thought	precedes	feeling.	More	complicated	emotions,	like
embarrassment	or	apprehension	over	an	upcoming	exam,	follow	this
slower	route,	taking	seconds	or	minutes	to	unfold—these	are	emotions
that	follow	from	thoughts.
By	contrast,	in	the	fast-response	sequence	feeling	seems	to	precede
or	be	simultaneous	with	thought.	This	rapid-fire	emotional	reaction
takes	over	in	situations	that	have	the	urgency	of	primal	survival.	This
is	the	power	of	such	rapid	decisions:	they	mobilize	us	in	an	instant	to
rise	to	an	emergency.	Our	most	intense	feelings	are	involuntary
reactions;	we	cannot	decide	when	they	will	erupt.	“Love,”	wrote
Stendhal,	“is	like	a	fever	that	comes	and	goes	independently	of	the
will.”	Not	just	love,	but	our	angers	and	fears,	as	well,	sweep	over	us,
seeming	to	happen	tous	rather	than	being	our	choice.	For	that	reason
they	can	offer	an	alibi:	“It	is	the	fact	that
we	cannot	choose	the	emotions
which	we	have
,”	notes	Ekman,	that	allows	people	to	explain	away	their
actions	by	saying	they	were	in	the	grip	of	emotion.
4
Just	as	there	are	quick	and	slow	paths	to	emotion—one	through


Just	as	there	are	quick	and	slow	paths	to	emotion—one	through
immediate	perception	and	the	other	through	reflective	thought—there
are	also	emotions	which	come	bidden.	One	example	is	intentionally


manipulated
feeling,	the	actors’	stock-in-trade,	like	the	tears	that
come	when	sad	memories	are	intentionally	milked	for	their	effect.	But
actors	are	simply	more	skilled	than	the	rest	of	us	at	the	intentional	use
of	the	second	pathway	to	emotion,	feeling	via	thinking.	While	we
cannot	easily	change	what	specific	emotions	a	certain	kind	of	thought
will	trigger,	we	very	often	can,	and	do,	choose	what	to	think	about.
Just	as	a	sexual	fantasy	can	lead	to	sexual	feelings,	so	can	happy
memories	cheer	us	up,	or	melancholy	thoughts	make	us	reflective.
But	the	rational	mind	usually	does	not	decide	what	emotions	we
“should”	have.	Instead,	our	feelings	typically	come	to	us	as	a	fait
accompli.	What	the	rational	mind	can	ordinarily	control	is	the
course
of	those	reactions.	A	few	exceptions	aside,	we	do	not	decide
when
	to
be	mad,	sad,	and	so	on.
A	Symbolic,	Childlike	Reality
The	logic	of	the	emotional	mind	is
associative;
	it	takes	elements	that
symbolize	a	reality,	or	trigger	a	memory	of	it,	to	be	the	same	as	that
reality.	That	is	why	similes,	metaphors,	and	images	speak	directly	to


the	emotional	mind,	as	do	the	arts—novels,	film,	poetry,	song,
theater,	opera.	Great	spiritual	teachers,	like	Buddha	and	Jesus,	have
touched	their	disciples’	hearts	by	speaking	in	the	language	of	emotion,
teaching	in	parables,	fables,	and	stories.	Indeed,	religious	symbol	and
ritual	makes	little	sense	from	the	rational	point	of	view;	it	is	couched
in	the	vernacular	of	the	heart.
This	logic	of	the	heart—of	the	emotional	mind—is	well-described
by	Freud	in	his	concept	of	“primary	process”	thought;	it	is	the	logic	of
religion	and	poetry,	psychosis	and	children,	dream	and	myth	(as
Joseph	Campbell	put	it,	“Dreams	are	private	myths;	myths	are	shared
dreams”).	The	primary	process	is	the	key	that	unlocks	the	meanings	of
works	like	James	Joyce’s
Ulysses:
	In	primary	process	thought,	loose
associations	determine	the	flow	of	a	narrative;	one	object	symbolizes
another;	one	feeling	displaces	another	and	stands	for	it;	wholes	are
condensed	into	parts.	There	is	no	time,	no	laws	of	cause-and-effect.
Indeed,	there	is	no	such	thing	as	“No”	in	the	primary	process;
anything	is	possible.	The	psychoanalytic	method	is	in	part	the	art	of
deciphering	and	unraveling	these	substitutions	in	meaning.


deciphering	and	unraveling	these	substitutions	in	meaning.
If	the	emotional	mind	follows	this	logic	and	its	rules,	with	one
element	standing	for	another,	things	need	not	necessarily	be	defined
by	their	objective	identity:	what	matters	is	how	they	are
perceived;


things	are	as	they	seem.	What	something	reminds	us	of	can	be	far
more	important	than	what	it	“is.”	Indeed,	in	emotional	life,	identities
can	be	like	a	hologram	in	the	sense	that	a	single	part	evokes	a	whole.
As	Seymour	Epstein	points	out,	while	the	rational
mind	makes	logical
connections	between	causes	and	effects,	the	emotional	mind	is
indiscriminate,	connecting	things	that	merely	have	similar	striking
features.
5
There	are	many	ways	in	which	the	emotional	mind	is	childlike,	the
more	so	the	stronger	the	emotion	grows.	One	way	is
categorical
thinking,	where	everything	is	in	black	and	white,	with	no	shades	of
gray;	someone	who	is	mortified	about	a	faux	pas	might	have	the
immediate	thought,	“I
always
	say	the	wrong	thing.”	Another	sign	of
this	childlike	mode	is
personalized
	thinking,	with	events	perceived
with	a	bias	centering	on	oneself,	like	the	driver	who,	after	an
accident,	explained	that	“the	telephone	pole	came	straight	at	me.”
This	childlike	mode	is
self-confirming
,	suppressing	or	ignoring
memories	or	facts	that	would	undermine	its	beliefs	and	seizing	on
those	that	support	it.	The	beliefs	of	the	rational	mind	are	tentative;
new	evidence	can	disconfirm	one	belief	and	replace	it	with	a	new	one


—it	reasons	by	objective	evidence.	The	emotional	mind,	however,
takes	its	beliefs	to	be	absolutely	true,	and	so	discounts	any	evidence	to
the	contrary.	That	is	why	it	is	so	hard	to	reason	with	someone	who	is
emotionally	upset:	no	matter	the	soundness	of	your	argument	from	a
logical	point	of	view,	it	carries	no	weight	if	it	is	out	of	keeping	with
the	emotional	conviction	of	the	moment.	Feelings	are	self-justifying,
with	a	set	of	perceptions	and	“proofs”	all	their	own.
The	Past	Imposed	on	the	Present
When	some	feature	of	an	event	seems	similar	to	an	emotionally
charged	memory	from	the	past,	the	emotional	mind	responds	by
triggering	the	feelings	that	went	with	the	remembered	event.	The
emotional	mind	reacts	to	the	present
as	though	it	were	the	past
.
6
	The
trouble	is	that,	especially	when	the	appraisal	is	fast	and	automatic,	we
may	not	realize	that	what	was	once	the	case	is	no	longer	so.	Someone
who	has	learned,	through	painful	childhood	beatings,	to	react	to	an
angry	scowl	with	intense	fear	and	loathing	will	have	that	reaction	to
some	degree	even	as	an	adult,	when	the	scowl	carries	no	such	threat.
If	the	feelings	are	strong,	then	the	reaction	that	is	triggered	is


If	the	feelings	are	strong,	then	the	reaction	that	is	triggered	is
obvious.	But	if	the	feelings	are	vague	or	subtle,	we	may	not	quite


realize	the	emotional	reaction	we	are	having,	even	though	it	is	subtly
coloring	how	we	react	to	the	moment.	Thoughts	and	reactions	at	this
moment	will	take	on	the	coloration	of	thoughts	and	reactions	then,
even	though	it	may	seem	that	the	reaction	is	due	solely	to	the
circumstance	of	the	moment.	Our	emotional	mind	will	harness	the
rational	mind	to	its	purposes,	so	we	come	up	with	explanations
for
our	feelings	and	reactions—rationalizations—justifying	them	in	terms
of	the	present	moment,	without	realizing	the	influence	of	the
emotional	memory.	In	that	sense,	we	can	have	no	idea	of	what	is
actually	going	on,	though	we	may	have	the	conviction	of	certainty
that	we	know	exactly	what	is	happening.	At	such	moments	the
emotional	mind	has	entrained	the	rational	mind,	putting	it	to	its	own
uses.
State-specific	Reality
The	working	of	the	emotional	mind	is	to	a	large	degree
state-specific
,
dictated	by	the	particular	feeling	ascendant	at	a	given	moment.	How
we	think	and	act	when	we	are	feeling	romantic	is	entirely	different
from	how	we	behave	when	enraged	or	dejected;	in	the	mechanics	of
emotion,	each	feeling	has	its	own	distinct	repertoire	of	thought,
reactions,	even	memories.	These	state-specific	repertoires	become


reactions,	even	memories.	These	state-specific	repertoires	become
most	predominant	in	moments	of	intense	emotion.
One	sign	that	such	a	repertoire	is	active	is	selective	memory.	Part	of
the	mind’s	response	to	an	emotional	situation	is	to	reshuffle	memory
and	options	for	action	so	that	those	most	relevant	are	at	the	top	of	the
hierarchy	and	so	more	readily	enacted.	And,	as	we	have	seen,	each
major	emotion	has	its	hallmark	biological	signature,	a	pattern	of
sweeping	changes	that	entrain	the	body	as	that	emotion	becomes
ascendant,	and	a	unique	set	of	cues	the	body	automatically	sends	out
when	in	its	grip.
7


APPENDIX	C
The	Neural	Circuitry	of	Fear
The	amygdala	is	central	to	fear.	When	a	rare	brain	disease	destroyed
the	amygdala	(but	no	other	brain	structures)	in	the	patient
neurologists	call	“S.M.,”	fear	disappeared	from	her	mental	repertoire.
She	became	unable	to	identify	looks	of	fear	on	other	people’s	faces,
nor	to	make	such	an	expression	herself.	As	her	neurologist	put	it,	“If
someone	put	a	gun	to	S.M.’s	head,	she	would	know	intellectually	to	be
afraid	but	she	would	not	feel	afraid	as	you	or	I	would.”
Neuroscientists	have	mapped	the	circuitry	for	fear	in	perhaps	finest
detail,	though	at	the	present	state	of	this	art	the	full	circuitry	for	none
of	the	emotions	is	completely	surveyed.	Fear	is	an	apt	case	in	point	for
understanding	the	neural	dynamics	of	emotion.	Fear,	in	evolution,	has
a	special	prominence:	perhaps	more	than	any	other	emotion	it	is
crucial	for	survival.	Of	course	in	modern	times	misplaced	fears	are	the
bane	of	daily	life,	leaving	us	suffering	from	frets,	angst,	and	garden
variety	worries—or	at	pathological	extreme,	from	panic	attacks,
phobias,	or	obsessive-compulsive	disorder.


phobias,	or	obsessive-compulsive	disorder.
Say	you’re	alone	one	night	at	home,	reading	a	book,	when	suddenly
you	hear	a	crash	in	another	room.	What	happens	in	your	brain	over
the	next	moments	offers	a	window	into	the	neural	circuitry	of	fear,
and	the	role	of	the	amygdala	as	an	alarm	system.	The	first	brain
circuit	involved	simply	takes	in	that	sound	as	raw	physical	waves	and
transforms	them	into	the	language	of	the	brain	to	startle	you	into
alertness.	This	circuit	goes	from	the	ear	to	the	brainstem	and	then	to
the	thalamus.	From	there	two	branches	separate:	a	smaller	bundle	of
projections	leads	to	the	amygdala	and	the	nearby	hippocampus;	the
other,	larger	pathway	leads	to	the	auditory	cortex	in	the	temporal
lobe,	where	sounds	are	sorted	out	and	comprehended.
The	hippocampus,	a	key	storage	site	for	memory,	quickly	sorts	that
“crash”	against	other	similar	sounds	you’ve	heard,	to	see	if	it	is
familiar—is	this	“crash”	one	that	you	immediately	recognize?
Meanwhile	the	auditory	cortex
is	doing	a	more	sophisticated	analysis
of	the	sound	to	try	to	understand	its	source—is	it	the	cat?	A	shutter


banging	in	the	wind?	A	prowler?	The	auditory	cortex	comes	up	with
its	hypothesis—it	might	be	the	cat	knocking	a	lamp	off	the	table,	say,
but	it	might	also	be	a	prowler—and	sends	that	message	to	the
amygdala	and	hippocampus,	which	quickly	compare	it	to	similar
memories.
If	the	conclusion	is	reassuring	(it’s	only	the	shutter	that	bangs
whenever	it	gets	too	windy)	then	the	general	alert	does	not	escalate	to
the	next	level.	But	if	you	are	still	unsure,	another	coil	of	circuitry
reverberating	between	amygdala,	hippocampus,	and	the	prefrontal
cortex	further	heightens	your	uncertainty	and	fixates	your	attention,
making	you	even	more	concerned	about	identifying	the	source	of	the
sound.	If	no	satisfying	answer	comes	from	this	further	keen	analysis,
the	amygdala	triggers	an	alarm,	its	central	area	activating	the
hypothalamus,	the	brainstem,	and	the	autonomic	nervous	system.
The	superb	architecture	of	the	amygdala	as	a	central	alarm	system
for	the	brain	becomes	evident	in	this	moment	of	apprehension	and
subliminal	anxiety.	The	several	bundles	of	neurons	in	the	amygdala
each	have	a	distinct	set	of	projections	with	receptors	primed	for
different	neurotransmitters,	something	like	those	home	alarm


different	neurotransmitters,	something	like	those	home	alarm
companies	where	operators	stand	at	the	ready	to	send	out	calls	to	the
local	fire	department,	police,	and	a	neighbor	whenever	a	home
security	system	signals	trouble.
Different	parts	of	the	amygdala	receive	differing	information.	To	the
amygdala’s	lateral	nucleus	come	projections	from	the	thalamus	and
auditory	and	visual	cortices.	Smells,	via	the	olfactory	bulb,	come	to
the	corticomedial	area	of	the	amygdala,	and	tastes	and	messages	from
the	viscera	go	to	the	central	area.	These	incoming	signals	make	the
amygdala	a	continual	sentinel,	scrutinizing	every	sensory	experience.
From	the	amygdala	projections	extend	out	to	every	major	part	of
the	brain.	From	the	central	and	medial	areas	a	branch	goes	to	the
areas	of	the	hypothalamus	that	secrete	the	body’s	emergency-response
substance,	corticotropin-releasing	hormone	(CRH),	which	mobilizes
the	fight-or-flight	reaction	via	a	cascade	of	other	hormones.	The
amygdala’s	basal	area	sends	out	branches	to	the	corpus	striatum,
linking	into	the	brain’s	system	for	movement.	And,	via	the	nearby
central	nucleus,	the	amygdala	sends	signals	to	the	autonomic	nervous
system	via	the	medulla,	activating	a	wide	range	of	far-flung	responses


in	the	cardiovascular	system,	the	muscles,	and	the	gut.
From	the	amygdala’s	basolateral	area,	arms	go	to	the	cingulate
cortex	and
to	the	fibers	known	as	the	“central	gray,”	cells	that


regulate	the	large	muscles	of	the	skeleton.	It	is	these	cells	that	make	a
dog	snarl	or	that	arch	the	back	of	a	cat	threatening	an	interloper	on
its	territory.	In	humans	these	same	circuits	tighten	the	muscles	of	the
vocal	cords,	creating	the	high-pitched	voice	of	fright.
Still	another	pathway	from	the	amygdala	leads	to	the	locus	ceruleus
in	the	brainstem,	which	in	turn	manufactures	norepinephrine	(also
called	“noradrenaline”)	and	disperses	it	throughout	the	brain.	The	net
effect	of	norepinephrine	is	to	heighten	the	overall	reactivity	of	the
brain	areas	that	receive	it,	making	the	sensory	circuits	more	sensitive.
Norepinephrine	suffuses	the	cortex,	the	brainstem,	and	the	limbic
system	itself,	in	essence	setting	the	brain	on	edge.	Now	even	the
ordinary	creaking	of	the	house	can	send	a	tremor	of	fear	coursing
through	you.	Most	of	these	changes	go	on	outside	awareness,	so	that
you	are	not	yet	aware	you	feel	fear.
But	as	you	begin	to	actually	feel	fear—that	is,	as	the	anxiety	that
had	been	unconscious	pierces	awareness—the	amygdala	seamlessly
commands	a	wide-ranging	response.	It	signals	cells	in	the	brainstem	to
put	a	fearful	expression	on	your	face,	make	you	edgy	and	easily


startled,	freeze	unrelated	movements	your	muscles	had	underway,
speed	your	heart	rate	and	raise	your	blood	pressure,	and	slow	your
breathing	(you	may	notice	yourself	suddenly	holding	your	breath
when	you	first	feel	fearful,	all	the	better	to	hear	more	clearly	what	it
is	you	are	fearful	of).	That	is	only	one	part	of	a	wide,	carefully
coordinated	array	of	changes	the	amygdala	and	connected	areas
orchestrate	as	they	commandeer	the	brain	in	a	crisis.
Meanwhile	the	amygdala,	along	with	the	interconnected
hippocampus,	directs	the	cells	that	send	key	neurotransmitters,	for
example,	to	trigger	releases	of	dopamine	that	lead	to	the	riveting	of
attention	on	the	source	of	your	fear—the	strange	sounds—and	put
your	muscles	at	readiness	to	react	accordingly.	At	the	same	time	the
amygdala	signals	sensory	areas	for	vision	and	attention,	making	sure
that	the	eyes	seek	out	whatever	is	most	relevant	to	the	emergency	at
hand.	Simultaneously	cortical	memory	systems	are	reshuffled	so	that
knowledge	and	memories	most	relevant	to	the	particular	emotional
urgency	will	be	most	readily	recalled,	taking	precedence	over	other
less	relevant	strands	of	thought.
Once	these	signals	have	been	sent,	you	are	pitched	into	full-fledged


fear:	you	become	aware	of	the	characteristic	tightness	in	your	gut,
your	speeding	heart,	the	tightening	of	the	muscles	around	your	neck
and	shoulders	or	the	trembling	of	your	limbs;	your	body	freezes	in


place	as	you	strain	your
attention	to	hear	any	further	sounds,	and
your	mind	races	with	possible	lurking	dangers	and	ways	to	respond.
This	entire	sequence—from	surprise	to	uncertainty	to	apprehension	to
fear—can	be	telescoped	within	a	second	or	so.	(For	more	information,
see	Jerome	Kagan,
Galen’s	Prophecy
.	New	York:	Basic	Books,	1994.)


APPENDIX	D
W.	T.	Grant	Consortium:	Active	Ingredients	of
Prevention	Programs
Key	ingredients	of	effective	programs	include:
E
MOTIONAL
	S
KILLS
•	Identifying	and	labeling	feelings
•	Expressing	feelings
•	Assessing	the	intensity	of	feelings
•	Managing	feelings
•	Delaying	gratification
•	Controlling	impulses
•	Reducing	stress
•	Knowing	the	difference	between	feelings	and	actions
C
OGNITIVE
	S
KILLS
•	Self-talk—conducting	an	“inner	dialogue”	as	a	way	to	cope	with	a
topic	or	challenge	or	reinforce	one’s	own	behavior
•	Reading	and	interpreting	social	cues—for	example,	recognizing
social	influences	on	behavior	and	seeing	oneself	in	the	perspective
of	the	larger	community
•	Using	steps	for	problem-solving	and	decision-making—for	instance,
controlling	impulses,	setting	goals,	identifying	alternative	actions,
anticipating	consequences
•	Understanding	the	perspective	of	others
•	Understanding	behavioral	norms	(what	is	and	is	not	acceptable
behavior)
•	A	positive	attitude	toward	life
•	Self-awareness—for	example,	developing	realistic	expectations	about
oneself


B
EHAVIORAL
	S
KILLS
•	Nonverbal—communicating	through	eye	contact,	facial
expressiveness,	tone	of	voice,	gestures,	and	so	on
•	Verbal—making	clear	requests,	responding	effectively	to	criticism,
resisting	negative	influences,	listening	to	others,	helping	others,
participating	in	positive	peer	groups
S
OURCE
:	W.	T.	Grant	Consortium	on	the	School-Based	Promotion	of
Social	Competence,	“Drug	and	Alcohol	Prevention	Curricula,”	in	J.
David	Hawkins	et	al.,
Communities	That	Care
	(San	Francisco:	Jossey-
Bass,	1992).


APPENDIX	E
The	Self	Science	Curriculum
Main	components:
•
Self-awareness:
	observing	yourself	and	recognizing	your	feelings;
building	a	vocabulary	for	feelings;	knowing	the	relationship	between
thoughts,	feelings,	and	reactions
•
Personal	decision-making:
	examining	your	actions	and	knowing
their	consequences;	knowing	if	thought	or	feeling	is	ruling	a	decision;
applying	these	insights	to	issues	such	as	sex	and	drugs
•
Managing	feelings:
	monitoring	“self-talk”	to	catch	negative
messages	such	as	internal	put-downs;	realizing	what	is	behind	a
feeling	(e.g.,	the	hurt	that	underlies	anger);	finding	ways	to	handle
fears	and	anxieties,	anger,	and	sadness
•
Handling	stress:
	learning	the	value	of	exercise,	guided	imagery,
relaxation	methods
•
Empathy:
	understanding	others’	feelings	and	concerns	and	taking
their	perspective;	appreciating	the	differences	in	how	people	feel
about	things
•
Communications:
	talking	about	feelings	effectively:	becoming	a
good	listener	and	question-asker;	distinguishing	between	what
someone	does	or	says	and	your	own	reactions	or	judgments	about	it;
sending	“I”	messages	instead	of	blame
•
Self-disclosure:
	valuing	openness	and	building	trust	in	a


•
Self-disclosure:
	valuing	openness	and	building	trust	in	a
relationship;	knowing	when	it’s	safe	to	risk	talking	about	your	private
feelings
•
Insight:
	identifying	patterns	in	your	emotional	life	and	reactions;
recognizing	similar	patterns	in	others
•
Self-acceptance:
	feeling	pride	and	seeing	yourself	in	a	positive	light;
recognizing	your	strengths	and	weaknesses;	being	able	to	laugh	at
yourself
•
Personal	responsibility:
	taking	responsibility;	recognizing	the
consequences	of	your	decisions	and	actions,	accepting	your	feelings
and	moods,	following	through	on	commitments	(e.g.,	to	studying)


•
Assertiveness:
	stating	your	concerns	and	feelings	without	anger	or
passivity
•
Group	dynamics:
	cooperation;	knowing	when	and	how	to	lead,
when	to	follow
•
Conflict	resolution:
	how	to	fight	fair	with	other	kids,	with	parents,
with	teachers;	the	win/win	model	for	negotiating	compromise
S
OURCE
:	Karen	F.	Stone	and	Harold	Q.	Dillehunt,
Self	Science:	The
Subject	Is	Me
	(Santa	Monica:	Goodyear	Publishing	Co.,	1978).


APPENDIX	F
Social	and	Emotional	Learning:	Results
Child	Development	Project
Eric	Schaps,	Development	Studies	Center,	Oakland,	California.
Evaluation	in	schools	in	Northern	California,	grades	K-6;	rating	by
independent	observers,	comparing	with	control	schools.
R
ESULTS:
•	more	responsible
•	more	assertive
•	more	popular	and	outgoing
•	more	pro-social	and	helpful
•	better	understanding	of	others
•	more	considerate,	concerned
•	more	pro-social	strategies	for	interpersonal	problem-solving
•	more	harmonious
•	more	“democratic”
•	better	conflict-resolution	skills
S
OURCES
:	E.	Schaps	and	V.	Battistich,	“Promoting	Health	Development
Through	School-Based	Prevention:	New	Approaches,”
OSAP	Prevention
Monograph,	no.	8:	Preventing	Adolescent	Drug	Use:	From	Theory	to
Practice
.	Eric	Gopelrud	(ed.),	Rockville,	MD:	Office	of	Substance	Abuse
Prevention,	U.S.	Dept.	of	Health	and	Human	Services,	1991.
D.	Solomon,	M.	Watson,	V.	Battistich,	E.	Schaps,	and	K.	Delucchi,
“Creating	a	Caring	Community:	Educational	Practices	That	Promote
Children’s	Prosocial	Development,”	in	F.	K.	Oser,	A.	Dick,	and	J.-L.
Patry,	eds.,


Patry,	eds.,
Effective	and	Responsible	Teaching:	The	New	Synthesis
	(San
Francisco:	Jossey-Bass,	1992).


Paths
Mark	Greenberg,	Fast	Track	Project,	University	of	Washington.
Evaluated	in	schools	in	Seattle,	grades	1–5;	ratings	by	teachers,
comparing	matched	control	students	among	1)	regular	students,	2)
deaf	students,	3)	special-education	students.
R
ESULTS:
•	Improvement	in	social	cognitive	skills
•	Improvement	in	emotion,	recognition,	and	understanding
•	Better	self-control
•	Better	planning	for	solving	cognitive	tasks
•	More	thinking	before	acting
•	More	effective	conflict	resolution
•	More	positive	classroom	atmosphere
S
PECIAL-NEEDS	STUDENTS:
Improved	classroom	behavior	on:
•	Frustration	tolerance
•	Assertive	social	skills
•	Task	orientation
•	Peer	skills
•	Sharing
•	Sociability
•	Self-control
I
MPROVED	EMOTIONAL	UNDERSTANDING:
•	Recognition
•	Labeling
•	Decreases	in	self-reports	of	sadness	and	depression
•	Decrease	in	anxiety	and	withdrawal
S
OURCES
:	Conduct	Problems	Research	Group,	“A	Developmental	and
Clinical	Model	for	the	Prevention	of	Conduct	Disorder:	The	Fast	Track


Program,”
Development	and	Psychopathology
	4	(1992).
M.	T.	Greenberg	and	C.	A.	Kusche,
Promoting	Social	and	Emotional
Development	in	Deaf	Children:	The	PATHS	Project
	(Seattle:	University	of
Washington	Press,	1993).
M.	T.	Greenberg,	C.	A.	Kusche,	E.	T.	Cook,	and	J.	P.	Quamma,
“Promoting	Emotional	Competence	in	School-Aged	Children:	The
Effects	of	the	PATHS	Curriculum,”
Development	and	Psychopathology	7
(1995).
Seattle	Social	Development	Project
J.	David	Hawkins,	Social	Development	Research	Group,	University	of
Washington
Evaluated	in	Seattle	elementary	and	middle	schools	by	independent
testing	and	objective	standards,	in	comparison	to	nonprogram	schools.
R
ESULTS:
•	More	positive	attachment	to	family	and	school
•	Boys	less	aggressive,	girls	less	self-destructive
•	Fewer	suspensions	and	expulsions	among	low-achieving	students
•	Less	drug-use	initiation
•	Less	delinquency
•	Better	scores	on	standardized	achievement	tests
S
OURCES
:	E.	Schaps	and	V.	Battistich,	“Promoting	Health	Development
Through	School-Based	Prevention:	New	Approaches,”
OSAP	Prevention
Monograph,	no.	8:	Preventing	Adolescent	Drug	Use:	From	Theory	to
Practice


Practice
.	Eric	Gopelrud	(ed.),	Rockville,	MD:	Office	of	Substance	Abuse
Prevention,	U.S.	Dept.	of	Health	and	Human	Services,	1991.
J.	D.	Hawkins	et	al.,	“The	Seattle	Social	Development	Project,”	in	J.
McCord	and	R.	Tremblay,	eds.,
The	Prevention	of	Antisocial	Behavior	in
Children
	(New	York:	Guilford,	1992).
J.	D.	Hawkins,	E.	Von	Cleve,	and	R.	F.	Catalano,	“Reducing	Early
Childhood	Aggression:	Results	of	a	Primary	Prevention
Program
,”
Journal	of	the	American	Academy	of	Child	and	Adolescent	Psychiatry
	30,
2	(1991),	pp.	208–17.
J.	A.	O’Donnell,	J.	D.	Hawkins,	R.	F.	Catalano,	R.	D.	Abbott,	and	L.


E.	Day,	“Preventing	School	Failure,	Drug	Use,	and	Delinquency
Among	Low-Income	Children:	Effects	of	a	Long-Term	Prevention
Project	in	Elementary	Schools,”
American	Journal	of	Orthopsychiatry	65
(1994).
Yale-New	Haven	Social	Competence	Promotion	Program
Roger	Weissberg,	University	of	Illinois	at	Chicago
Evaluated	in	New	Haven	Public	Schools,	grades	5–8,	by
independent	observations	and	student	and	teacher	reports,	compared
with	control	group.
R
ESULTS:
•	Improved	problem-solving	skills
•	More	involvement	with	peers
•	Better	impulse	control
•	Improved	behavior
•	Improved	interpersonal	effectiveness	and	popularity
•	Enhanced	coping	skills
•	More	skill	in	handling	interpersonal	problems
•	Better	coping	with	anxiety
•	Less	delinquent	behaviors
•	Better	conflict-resolution	skills
S
OURCES
:	M.	J.	Elias	and	R.	P.	Weissberg,	“School-Based	Social
Competence	Promotion	as	a	Primary	Prevention	Strategy:	A	Tale	of
Two	Projects,”
Prevention	in	Human	Services	7
,	1	(1990),	pp.	177–200.
M.	Caplan,	R.	P.	Weissberg,	J.	S.	Grober,	P.	J.	Sivo,	K.	Grady,	and	C.
Jacoby,	“Social	Competence	Promotion	with	Inner-City	and	Suburban


Young	Adolescents:	Effects	of	Social	Adjustment	and	Alcohol	Use,”
Journal	of	Consulting	and	Clinical	Psychology
	60,	1	(1992),	pp.	56–63.
Resolving	Conflict	Creatively	Program
Linda	Lantieri,	National	Center	for	Resolving	Conflict	Creatively
Program	(an	initiative	of	Educators	for	Social	Responsibility),	New
York	City


Evaluated	in	New	York	City	schools,	grades	K-12,	by	teachers’
ratings,	pre-	and	post-program.
R
ESULTS:
•	Less	violence	in	class
•	Fewer	verbal	put-downs	in	class
•	More-caring	atmosphere
•	More	willingness	to	cooperate
•	More	empathy
•	Improved	communication	skills
S
OURCE
:	Metis	Associates,	Inc.,
The	Resolving	Conflict	Creatively	Program:
1988–1989.	Summary	of	Significant	Findings	of	RCCP	New	York	Site
(New	York:	Metis	Associates,	May	1990).
The	Improving	Social	Awareness-Social	Problem	Solving	Project
Maurice	Elias,	Rutgers	University
Evaluated	in	New	Jersey	schools,	grades	K-6,	by	teacher	ratings,
peer	assessments,	and	school	records,	compared	to	nonparticipants.
R
ESULTS:
•	More	sensitive	to	others’	feelings
•	Better	understanding	of	the	consequences	of	their	behavior
•	Increased	ability	to	“size	up”	interpersonal	situations	and	plan
appropriate	actions
•	Higher	self-esteem
•	More	prosocial	behavior
•	Sought	out	by	peers	for	help
•	Better	handled	the	transition	to	middle	school
•	Less	antisocial,	self-destructive,	and	socially	disordered	behavior,
even	when	followed	up	into	high	school
•	Improved	learning-to-learn	skills


•	Improved	learning-to-learn	skills
•	Better	self-control,	social	awareness,	and	social	decision-making	in
and	out	of	the	classroom


S
OURCES
:	M.	J.	Elias,	M.	A.	Gara,	T.	F.	Schuyler,	L.	R.	Branden-Muller,
and	M.	A.	Sayette,	“The	Promotion	of	Social	Competence:
Longitudinal	Study	of	a	Preventive	School-Based	Program,”
American
Journal	of	Orthopsychiatry
	61	(1991),	pp.	409–17.
M.	J.	Elias	and	J.	Clabby,
Building	Social	Problem	Solving	Skills:
Guidelines	From	a	School-Based	Program
	(San	Francisco:	Jossey-Bass,
1992).


Resources
The	first	edition	of	this	book	could	not	have	had	a	page	like	this
directing	readers	who	want	more	information	to	the	best	resources—
in	1995	there	were	virtually	no	resources	anywhere	on	emotional
intelligence,	while	today	they	seem	to	be	proliferating	wildly.	The
mere	existence	of	this	page	in	itself	signifies	how	much	this	field	has
advanced.	For	more	in-depth	access	to	tools	and	research	findings,
practical	resources,	and	key	people	in	this	field,	I	recommend	the
following	organizations,	websites,	and	books.	(I’ve	tried	to	include
only	books	I’m	familiar	with	that	are	based	on	sound	research,	but	my
failure	to	include	a	book	does	not	mean	it	cannot	be	helpful	or	may
not	be	sound.)
EDUCATION
The	Collaborative	for	Academic,	Social,	and	Emotional	Learning
(CASEL),	based	at	the	University	of	Illinois	at	Chicago,	seeks	to
enhance	children’s	success	in	school	and	life	by	promoting	evidence-
based	social,	emotional,	and	academic	learning	as	an	essential	part	of
education	from	preschool	through	high	school.	Website:
www.casel.org
.
The	Center	for	Social	and	Emotional	Education	(CSEE),	at	Teachers
College,	Columbia	University,	is	an	educational	and	professional
development	organization	dedicated	to	supporting	effective	social
emotional	learning,	teaching,	and	leadership	in	schools.	Website:
www.CSEE.net
.


www.CSEE.net
.
Some	Model	SEL	Programs
Responsive	Classroom:
http://responsiveclassroom.org/
Developmental	Studies	Center:
http://www.devstu.org/
Educators	for	Social	Responsibility:

http://www.esrnational.org/home.htm
Search	Institute:
http://www.search-institute.org/
Social	Development	Research	Group:

http://depts.washington.edu/sdrg/index.html


Learning	Standards
.	For	a	model	statewide	policy	setting	detailed
educational	standards	in	social	and	emotional	learning,	see	the	work
of	the	Illinois	State	Board	of	Education.	This	state-of-the-art,
developmentally	appropriate	formulation	could	be	adopted	by	any
educational	system	seeking	to	offer	SEL	to	its	children.	Website:
www.isbe.net/ils/social_emotional/standards.htm
.
Recommended	Books
Bar-On,	Reuven,	J.	G.	Maree,	and	M.	J.	Elias,	eds.
Educating	People	to
Be	Emotionally	Intelligent
.	Portsmouth,	NH:	Heinemann	Educational
Publishers,	2005.
Cohen,	Jonathan,	ed.
Educating	Minds	and	Hearts:	Social	Emotional
Learning	and	the	Passage	into	Adolescence
.	New	York:	Teachers	College
Press,	1999.
Collaborative	for	Academic,	Social,	and	Emotional	Learning.
Safe	and
Sound:	An	Educational	Leader’s	Guide	to	Evidence-based	Social	and
Emotional	Learning	Programs
.	Chicago:	Collaborative	for	Academic,
Social,	and	Emotional	Learning,	2003.
Elias,	Maurice	J.,	A.	Arnold,	and	C.	S.	Hussey,	eds.
EQ	+	IQ	=	Best
Leadership	Practices	for	Caring	and	Successful	Schools
.	Thousand	Oaks,
CA:	Corwin	Press,	2003.


CA:	Corwin	Press,	2003.
Elias,	Maurice,	et	al.
Promoting	Social	and	Emotional	Learning:
Guidelines	for	Educators
.	Alexandria,	VA:	Association	for	Supervision
and	Curriculum	Development,	1997.
Haynes,	Norris,	Michael	Ben-Avie,	and	Jacque	Ensign.
How	Social	and
Emotional	Development	Add	Up:	Getting	Results	in	Math	and	Science
Education
.	New	York:	Teachers	College	Press,	2003.
Lantieri,	Linda,	and	Janet	Patti.
Waging	Peace	in	Our	Schools
.	Boston:
Beacon	Press,	1996.
Novick,	B.,	J.	S.	Kress,	and	Maurice	Elias.
Building	Learning
Communities	with	Character:	How	to	Integrate	Academic,	Social,	and
Emotional	Learning
.	Alexandria,	VA:	Association	for	Supervision	and
Curriculum	Development,	2002.


Patti,	Janet,	and	J.	Tobin.
Smart	School	Leaders:	Leading	with	Emotional
Intelligence
.	Dubuque,	IA:	Kendall	Hunt,	2003.
Salovey,	Peter,	and	David	Sluyter,	eds.
Emotional	Development	and
Emotional	Intelligence:	Educational	Implications
.	New	York:	Basic	Books,
1997.
Zins,	Joseph,	Roger	Weissberg,	Margaret	Wang,	and	Herbert	Walberg.
Building	Academic	Success	on	Social	and	Emotional	Learning:	What	Does
the	Research	Say?
	New	York:	Teachers	College	Press,	2004.
ORGANIZATIONAL	LIFE
The	Consortium	for	Research	on	Emotional	Intelligence	in
Organizations	is	based	in	the	Graduate	School	of	Applied	and
Professional	Psychology,	Rutgers	University.	Director:	Cary	Cherniss.
Website:
www.eiconsortium.org
.
Recommended	Books
Ashkanasy,	Neal,	Wilfred	Zerbe,	and	Charmine	Hartel.
Managing
Emotions	in	the	Workplace
.	Armonk,	NY:	M.	E.	Sharpe,	2002.
Boyatzis,	Richard,	and	Annie	McKee.
Resonant	Leadership:	Inspiring
Yourself	and	Others	Through	Mindfulness,	Hope,	and	Compassion
.
Boston:	Harvard	Business	School	Press,	2005.


.
Boston:	Harvard	Business	School	Press,	2005.
Caruso,	David	R.,	and	Peter	Salovey.
The	Emotionally	Intelligent
Manager:	How	to	Develop	the	Four	Key	Skills	of	Leadership
.	San
Francisco:	Jossey-Bass,	2004.
Cherniss,	Cary,	and	Daniel	Goleman,	eds.
The	Emotionally	Intelligent
Workplace:	How	to	Select	For,	Measure,	and	Improve	Emotional
Intelligence	in	Individuals,	Groups,	and	Organizations
.	San	Francisco:
Jossey-Bass,	2001.
Druskat,	Vanessa,	Fabio	Sala,	and	Gerald	Mount,	eds.
linking	Emotional
Intelligence	and	Performance	at	Work:	Current	Research	Evidence
.
Mahwah,	NJ:	Lawrence	Erlbaum,	2005.
Fineman,	Stephen,	ed.
Emotion	in	Organizations
,	2nd	ed.	London:	Sage


Publications,	2000.
Frost,	Peter	J.,
Toxic	Emotions	at	Work:	How	Compassionate	Managers
Handle	Pain	and	Conflict
.	Boston:	Harvard	Business	School	Press,	2003.
Riggio,	Ronald,	Susan	E.	Murphy,	and	Francis	Pirozzolo.
Multiple
Intelligences	and	Leadership
.	Mahwah,	NJ:	Lawrence	Erlbaum,	2002.
PARENTING
Recommended	Books
Elias,	Maurice,	Steven	E.	Tobias,	and	Brian	S.	Friedlander,
Emotionally
Intelligent	Parenting:	How	to	Raise	a	Self-disciplined,	Responsible,	Socially
Skilled	Child
.	New	York:	Harmony	Books,	1999.
Elias,	Maurice,	Steven	E.	Tobias,	and	Brian	S.	Friedlander.
Raising
Emotionally	Intelligent	Teenagers
.	New	York:	Harmony	Books,	2000.
Gottman,	John.
Raising	an	Emotionally	Intelligent	Child
.	New	York:
Simon	and	Schuster,	1998.
Schure,	Myrna.
Raising	a	Thinking	Child
.	New	York:	Pocket	Books,
1994.
GENERAL
6	Seconds	is	a	nonprofit	organization	that	supports	emotional
intelligence	in	schools,	businesses,	and	families,	with	an	international
scope.	It	is	an	excellent	source	for	information	on	resources,	articles,
and	conferences.	Website:


and	conferences.	Website:
www.6seconds.org
.
Recommended	Books
Bar-On,	Reuven,	and	Parker,	James	D.	A.,	eds.
Handbook	of	Emotional
Intelligence
.	San	Francisco:	Jossey-Bass,	2000.
Barrett,	Lisa	Feldman,	and	Peter	Salovey.
The	Wisdom	of	Feeling:
Psychological	Processes	in	Emotional	Intelligence
.	New	York:	Guilford
Press,	2002.
Geher,	G.,	ed.
Measuring	Emotional	Intelligence:	Common	Ground	and


Controversy
.	Hauppauge,	NY:	Nova	Science	Publishers,	2004.
Salovey,	Peter,	Marc	A.	Brackett,	and	John	D.	Mayer.
Emotional
Intelligence:	Key	Readings	on	the	Mayer	and	Salovey	Model
.	Port	Chester,
NY:	DUDE	Publishing,	2004.
Williams,	Virginia,	and	Redford	Williams.
Lifeskills
.	New	York:	Times
Books,	1997.
A	Thoughtful	Critique:
Matthews,	Gerald,	Moshe	Zeidner,	and	Richard	D.	Roberts.
Emotional
Intelligence:	Science	and	Myth
.	Cambridge:	MIT	Press,	2002.


For	Tara,	wellspring	of	emotional	wisdom


Acknowledgments
My	wife,	Tara	Bennett-Goleman,	a	psychotherapist,	was	a	full	creative
partner	in	the	earliest	stages	of	thinking	that	led	to	this	book.	Her
attunement	to	the	emotional	currents	that	move	beneath	the	surface
of	our	thoughts	and	interactions	opened	a	world	to	me.
I	first	heard	the	phrase	“emotional	literacy”	from	Eileen	Rockefeller
Growald,	then	the	founder	and	president	of	the	Institute	for	the
Advancement	of	Health.	It	was	this	casual	conversation	that	piqued
my	interest	and	framed	the	investigations	that	finally	became	this
book.
Support	from	the	Fetzer	Institute	has	allowed	me	the	luxury	of	time
to	explore	more	fully	what	“emotional	literacy”	might	mean,	and	I	am
grateful	for	the	crucial	early	encouragement	of	Rob	Lehman,	president
of	the	Institute,	and	an	ongoing	collaboration	with	David	Sluyter,
program	director	there.	It	was	Rob	Lehman	who,	early	on	in	my
explorations,	urged	me	to	write	a	book	about	emotional	literacy.
Among	my	most	profound	debts	is	to	the	hundreds	of	researchers
who	over	the	years	have	shared	their	findings	with	me,	and	whose
efforts	are	reviewed	and	synthesized	here.	To	Peter	Salovey	at	Yale	I
owe	the	concept	of	“emotional	intelligence.”	I	have	also	gained	much


from	being	privy	to	the	ongoing	work	of	many	educators	and
practitioners	of	the	art	of	primary	prevention,	who	are	at	the	forefront
of	the	nascent	movement	in	emotional	literacy.	Their	hands-on	efforts
to	bring	heightened	social	and	emotional	skills	to	children,	and	to	re-
create	schools	as	more	humane	environments,	have	been	inspiring.
Among	them	are	Mark	Greenberg	and	David	Hawkins	at	the
University	of	Washington;	Eric	Schaps	and	Catherine	Lewis	at	the
Developmental	Studies	Center	in	Oakland,	California;	Tim	Shriver	at
the	Yale	Child	Studies	Center;	Roger	Weissberg	at	the	University	of
Illinois	at	Chicago;	Maurice	Elias	at	Rutgers;	Shelly	Kessler	of	the
Goddard	Institute	on	Teaching	and	Learning	in	Boulder,	Colorado;
Chevy	Martin	and	Karen	Stone	McCown	at	the	Nueva	School	in
Hillsborough,	California;	Linda	Lantieri,	director	of	the	National
Center	for	Resolving	Conflict	Creatively	in	New	York	City;	and	Carol
A.	Kusche,	Developmental	Research	and	Programs,	Seattle.
I	have	a	special	debt	to	those	who	reviewed	and	commented	on


parts	of	this	manuscript:	Howard	Gardner	of	the	Graduate	School	of
Education	at	Harvard	University;	Peter	Salovey,	of	the	psychology
department	at	Yale	University;	Paul	Ekman,	director	of	the	Human
Interaction	Laboratory	at	the	University	of	California	at	San	Francisco;
Michael	Lerner,	director	of	Commonweal	in	Bolinas,	California;	Denis
Prager,	then	director	of	the	health	program	at	the	John	D.	and
Catherine	T.	MacArthur	Foundation;	Mark	Gerzon,	director	of
Common	Enterprise,	Boulder,	Colorado;	Mary	Schwab-Stone,	MD,
Child	Studies	Center,	Yale	University	School	of	Medicine;	David
Spiegel,	MD,	Department	of	Psychiatry,	Stanford	University	Medical
School;	Mark	Greenberg,	director	of	the	Fast	Track	Program,
University	of	Washington;	Shoshona	Zuboff,	Harvard	School	of
Business;	Joseph	LeDoux,	Center	for	Neural	Science,	New	York
University;	Richard	Davidson,	director	of	the	Psychophysiology
Laboratory,	University	of	Wisconsin;	Paul	Kaufman,	Mind	and	Media,
Point	Reyes,	California;	Jessica	Brackman,	Naomi	Wolf,	and,
especially,	Fay	Goleman.
Helpful	scholarly	consultations	came	from	Page	DuBois,	a	Greek
scholar	at	the	University	of	Southern	California;	Matthew	Kapstein,	a


philosopher	of	ethics	and	religion	at	Columbia	University;	and	Steven
Rockefeller,	intellectual	biographer	of	John	Dewey,	at	Middlebury
College.	Joy	Nolan	gathered	vignettes	of	emotional	episodes;	Margaret
Howe	and	Annette	Spychalla	prepared	the	appendix	on	the	effects	of
emotional	literacy	curricula.	Sam	and	Susan	Harris	provided	essential
equipment.
My	editors	at
The	New	York	Times
	over	the	last	decade	have	been
marvelously	supportive	of	my	many	enquiries	into	new	findings	on
the	emotions,	which	first	appeared	in	the	pages	of	that	paper	and
which	inform	much	of	this	book.
Toni	Burbank,	my	editor	at	Bantam	Books,	offered	the	editorial
enthusiasm	and	acuity	that	sharpened	my	resolve	and	thinking.
And	Tara	provided	the	cocoon	of	warmth,	love,	and	intelligence
that	nurtured	this	project	along.


Notes
Introduction
			1.
	J.	A.	Durlak	and	R.	P.	Weissberg,	“A	Major	Meta-analysis	of	Positive	Youth	Development
Programs,”	presentation	at	the	annual	meeting	of	the	American	Psychological	Association,
Washington,	DC,	August	2005.	See	also	R.	P.	Weissberg,	“Social	and	Emotional	Learning
for	School	and	Life	Success,”	address	to	the	Society	for	Community	Research	and	Action
(APA	Division	27),	Distinguished	Contribution	to	Theory	and	Research	Award,	at	the
annual	meeting	of	the	American	Psychological	Association,	Washington,	D.C.,	August
2005.
			2.
	N.	R.	Riggs,	M.	T.	Greenberg,	C.	A.	Kusche,	and	M.	A.	Pentz,	“The	Role	of	Neurocognitive
Change	in	the	Behavioral	Outcomes	of	a	Social-Emotional	Prevention	Program	in
Elementary	School	Students:	Effects	of	the	PATHS	Curriculum,”	2005,	under	review.
			3.
	The	EI	model	seems	to	be	emerging	as	an	influential	framework	within	psychology.	The
span	of	psychological	fields	that	now	are	informed	by	(and	inform)	the	EI	model	range
from	neuroscience	to	health	psychology.	The	areas	with	strongest	connections	to	EI
include:	development,	education,	clinical	and	counseling,	social,	and
industrial/organizational	psychology,	among	others.	Indeed,	segments	on	EI	are	now


routinely	included	in	many	college-level	and	graduate	courses	in	these	subjects.
			4.
	J.	D.	Mayer,	P.	Salovey,	and	D.	R.	Caruso,	“Models	of	Emotional	Intelligence,”	in	R.	J.
Sternberg,	ed.,
Handbook	of	Intelligence
,	Cambridge,	Eng.:	Cambridge	University	Press,
2000.
			5.
	Children	rated	in	1999:	Thomas	M.	Achenbach	et	al.,	“Are	American	Children’s	Problems
Still	Getting	Worse?	A	23-year	Comparison,”
Journal	of	Abnormal	Child	Psychology
,	31
(2003):	1–11.


PART	ONE:	THE	EMOTIONAL	BRAIN
Chapter	1.	What	Are	Emotions	For?
			1.
	Associated	Press,	September	15,	1993.
			2.
	The	timelessness	of	this	theme	of	selfless	love	is	suggested	by	how	pervasive	it	is	in	world
myth:	The	Jataka	tales,	told	throughout	much	of	Asia	for	millennia,	all	narrate	variations
on	such	parables	of	self-sacrifice.
			3.
	Altruistic	love	and	human	survival:	The	evolutionary	theories	that	posit	the	adaptive
advantages	of	altruism	are	well-summarized	in	Malcolm	Slavin	and	Daniel	Kriegman,
The
Adaptive	Design	of	the	Human	Psyche
	(New	York:	Guilford	Press,	1992).
			4.
	Much	of	this	discussion	is	based	on	Paul	Ekman’s	key	essay,	“An	Argument	for	Basic
Emotions,”
Cognition	and	Emotion
,	6,	1992,	pp.	169–200.	This	point	is	from	P.	N.	Johnson-
Laird	and	K.	Oatley’s	essay	in	the	same	issue	of	the	journal.
			5.
	The	shooting	of	Matilda	Crabtree:
The	New	York	Times
,	Nov.	11,	1994.
			6.
	Only	in	adults:	An	observation	by	Paul	Ekman,	University	of	California	at	San	Francisco.
			7.


7.
	Body	changes	in	emotions	and	their	evolutionary	reasons:	Some	of	the	changes	are
documented	in	Robert	W.	Levenson,	Paul	Ekman,	and	Wallace	V.	Friesen,	“Voluntary
Facial	Action	Generates	Emotion-Specific	Autonomous	Nervous	System	Activity,”
Psychophysiology
,
27,	1990.	This	list	is	culled	from	there	and	other	sources.	At	this	point
such	a	list	remains	speculative	to	a	degree;	there	is	scientific	debate	over	the	precise
biological	signature	of	each	emotion,	with	some	researchers	taking	the	position	that	there
is	far	more	overlap	than	difference	among	emotions,	or	that	our	present	ability	to	measure
the	biological	correlates	of	emotion	is	too	immature	to	distinguish	among	them	reliably.
For	this	debate	see:	Paul	Ekman	and	Richard	Davidson,	eds.,
Fundamental	Questions	About
Emotions
	(New	York:	Oxford	University	Press,	1994).
			8.
	As	Paul	Ekman	puts	it,	“Anger	is	the	most	dangerous	emotion;	some	of	the	main	problems
destroying	society	these	days	involve	anger	run	amok.	It’s	the	least	adaptive	emotion	now
because	it	mobilizes	us	to	fight.	Our	emotions	evolved	when	we	didn’t	have	the


technology	to	act	so	powerfully	on	them.	In	prehistoric	times,	when	you	had	an
instantaneous	rage	and	for	a	second	wanted	to	kill	someone,	you	couldn’t	do	it	very	easily
—but	now	you	can.”
			9.
	Erasmus	of	Rotterdam,
In	Praise	of	Folly
,	trans.	Eddie	Radice	(London:	Penguin,	1971),	p.
87.
10.
	Such	basic	responses	defined	what	might	pass	for	the	“emotional	life”—more	aptly,	an
“instinct	life”—of	these	species.	More	important	in	evolutionary	terms,	these	are	the
decisions	crucial	to	survival;	those	animals	that	could	do	them	well,	or	well	enough,


survived	to	pass	on	their	genes.	In	these	early	times,	mental	life	was	brutish:	the	senses
and	a	simple	repertoire	of	reactions	to	the	stimuli	they	received	got	a	lizard,	frog,	bird,	or
fish—and,	perhaps,	a	brontosaurus—through	the	day.	But	this	runt	brain	did	not	yet	allow
for	what	we	think	of	as	an	emotion.
11.
	The	limbic	system	and	emotions:	R.	Joseph,
The	Naked	Neuron:	Evolution	and	the	Languages
of	the	Brain	and	Body
	(New	York:	Plenum	Publishing,	1993);	Paul	D.	MacLean,
The	Triune
Brain	in	Evolution
	(New	York:	Plenum,	1990).
12.
	Rhesus	infants	and	adaptability:	“Aspects	of	emotion	conserved	across	species,”	Ned	Kalin,
M.D.,	Departments	of	Psychology	and	Psychiatry,	University	of	Wisconsin,	prepared	for
the	MacArthur	Affective	Neuroscience	Meeting,	Nov.,	1992.
Chapter	2.	Anatomy	of	an	Emotional	Hijacking
			1.
	The	case	of	the	man	with	no	feelings	was	described	by	R.	Joseph,	op.	cit.	p.	83.	On	the
other	hand,	there	may	be	some	vestiges	of	feeling	in	people	who	lack	an	amygdala	(see
Paul	Ekman	and	Richard	Davidson,	eds.,
Questions	About	Emotion


Questions	About	Emotion
.	New	York:	Oxford
University	Press,	1994).	The	different	findings	may	hinge	on	exactly	which	parts	of	the
amygdala	and	related	circuits	were	missing;	the	last	word	on	the	detailed	neurology	of
emotion	is	far	from	in.
			2.
	Like	many	neuroscientists,	LeDoux	works	at	several	levels,	studying,	for	instance,	how
specific	lesions	in	a	rat’s	brain	change	its	behavior;	painstakingly	tracing	the	path	of	single
neurons;	setting	up	elaborate	experiments	to	condition	fear	in	rats	whose	brains	have	been
surgically	altered.	His	findings,	and	others	reviewed	here,	are	at	the	frontier	of	exploration
in	neuroscience,	and	so	remain	somewhat	speculative—particularly	the	implications	that
seem	to	flow	from	the	raw	data	to	an	understanding	of	our	emotional	life.	But	LeDoux’s
work	is	supported	by	a	growing	body	of	converging	evidence	from	a	variety	of
neuroscientists	who	are	steadily	laying	bare	the	neural	underpinnings	of	emotions.	See,	for
example,	Joseph	LeDoux,	“Sensory	Systems	and	Emotion,”
Integrative	Psychiatry
,	4,	1986;
Joseph	LeDoux,	“Emotion	and	the	Limbic	System	Concept,”
Concepts	in	Neuroscience,	2
,
1992.
			3.


,
1992.
			3.
	The	idea	of	the	limbic	system	as	the	brain’s	emotional	center	was	introduced	by
neurologist	Paul	MacLean	more	than	forty	years	ago.	In	recent	years	discoveries	like
LeDoux’s	have	refined	the	limbic	system	concept,	showing	that	some	of	its	central
structures	like	the	hippocampus	are	less	directly	involved	in	emotions,	while	circuits
linking	other	parts
of	the	brain—particularly	the	prefrontal	lobes—to	the	amygdala	are
more	central.	Beyond	that,	there	is	a	growing	recognition	that	each	emotion	may	call	on
distinct	brain	areas.	The	most	current	thinking	is	that	there	is	not	a	neatly	defined	single
“emotional	brain,”	but	rather	several	systems	of	circuits	that	disperse	the	regulation	of	a
given	emotion	to	farflung,	but	coordinated,	parts	of	the	brain.	Neuroscientists	speculate
that	when	the	full	brain	mapping	of	the	emotions	is	accomplished,	each	major	emotion


will	have	its	own	topography,	a	distinct	map	of	neuronal	pathways	determining	its	unique
qualities,	though	many	or	most	of	these	circuits	are	likely	to	be	interlinked	at	key
junctures	in	the	limbic	system,	like	the	amygdala,	and	prefrontal	cortex.	See	Joseph
LeDoux,	“Emotional	Memory	Systems	in	the	Brain,”
Behavioral	and	Brain	Research
,	58,
1993.
			4.
	Brain	circuitry	of	different	levels	of	fear:	This	analysis	is	based	on	the	excellent	synthesis
in	Jerome	Kagan,
Galen’s	Prophecy
	(New	York:	Basic	Books,	1994).
			5.
	I	wrote	about	Joseph	LeDoux’s	research	in
The	New	York	Times
	on	August	15,	1989.	The
discussion	in	this	chapter	is	based	on	interviews	with	him,	and	several	of	his	articles,
including	Joseph	LeDoux,	“Emotional	Memory	Systems	in	the	Brain,”
Behavioural	Brain
Research
,	58,	1993:	Joseph	LeDoux,	“Emotion,	Memory	and	the	Brain,”
Scientific	American
,
June,	1994;	Joseph	LeDoux,	“Emotion	and	the	Limbic	System	Concept,”
Concepts	in
Neuroscience,	2
,	1992.
			6.


Neuroscience,	2
,	1992.
			6.
	Unconscious	preferences:	William	Raft	Kunst-Wilson	and	R.	B.	Zajonc,	“Affective
Discrimination	of	Stimuli	That	Cannot	Be	Recognized,”
Science
	(Feb.	1,	1980).
			7.
	Unconscious	opinion:	John	A.	Bargh,	“First	Second:	The	Preconscious	in	Social
Interactions,”	presented	at	the	meeting	of	the	American	Psychological	Society,
Washington,	DC	(June	1994).
			8.
	Emotional	memory:	Larry	Cahill	et	al.,	“Beta-adrenergic	activation	and	memory	for
emotional	events,”
Nature
	(Oct.	20,	1994).
			9.
	Psychoanalytic	theory	and	brain	maturation:	the	most	detailed	discussion	of	the	early
years	and	the	emotional	consequences	of	brain	development	is	Allan	Schore,
Affect
Regulation	and	the	Origin	of	Self
	(Hillsdale,	NJ:	Lawrence	Erlbaum	Associates,	1994).
10.
	Dangerous,	even	if	you	don’t	know	what	it	is:	LeDoux,	quoted	in	“How	Scary	Things	Get
That	Way,”
Science
	(Nov.	6,	1992),	p.	887.
11.
	Much	of	this	speculation	about	the	fine-tuning	of	emotional	response	by	the	neocortex
comes	from	Ned	Kalin,	op.	cit.


comes	from	Ned	Kalin,	op.	cit.
12.
	A	closer	look	at	the	neuroanatomy	shows	how	the	prefrontal	lobes	act	as	emotional
managers.	Much	evidence	points	to	part	of	the	prefrontal	cortex	as	a	site	where	most	or	all
cortical	circuits	involved	in	an	emotional	reaction	come	together.	In	humans,	the	strongest
connections	between	neocortex	and	amygdala	run	to	the	left	prefrontal	lobe	and	the
temporal	lobe	below	and	to	the	side	of	the	frontal	lobe	(the	temporal	lobe	is	critical	in
identifying	what	an	object	is).	Both	these	connections	are	made	in	a	single	projection,
suggesting	a	rapid	and	powerful	pathway,	a	virtual	neural	highway.	The	single-neuron
projection	between	the	amygdala	and	prefrontal	cortex	runs	to	an	area	called	the
orbitofrontal	cortex
.	This	is	the	area	that	seems	most	critical	for	assessing	emotional
responses	as	we	are	in	the	midst	of	them	and	making	mid-course	corrections.
				The	orbitofrontal	cortex	both	receives	signals	from	the	amygdala	and	has	its	own


intricate,	extensive	web	of	projections	throughout	the	limbic	brain.	Through	this	web	it
plays	a	role	in	regulating	emotional	responses—including	inhibiting	signals	from	the
limbic	brain	as	they	reach	other	areas	of	the	cortex,	thus	toning	down	the	neural	urgency
of	those	signals.	The	orbitofrontal	cortex’s	connections	to	the	limbic	brain	are	so	extensive
that	some	neuroanatomists	have	called	it	a	kind	of	“limbic	cortex”—the	thinking	part	of
the	emotional	brain.	See	Ned	Kalin,	Departments	of	Psychology	and	Psychiatry,	University
of	Wisconsin,	“Aspects	of	Emotion	Conserved	Across	Species,”	an	unpublished	manuscript
prepared	for	the	MacArthur	Affective	Neuroscience	Meeting.	November,	1992;	and	Allan
Schore,
Affect	Regulation	and	the	Origin	of	Self
	(Hillsdale,	NJ:	Lawrence	Erlbaum	Associates,
1994).
				There	is	not	only	a	structural	bridge	between	amygdala	and	prefrontal	cortex,	but,	as
always,	a	biochemical	one:	both	the	ventromedial	section	of	the	prefrontal	cortex	and	the
amygdala	are	especially	high	in	concentrations	of	chemical	receptors	for	the
neurotransmitter	serotonin.	This	brain	chemical	seems,	among	other	things,	to	prime


cooperation:	monkeys	with	extremely	high	density	of	receptors	for	serotonin	in	the	pre-
frontal-amygdala	circuit	are	“socially	well-tuned,”	while	those	with	low	concentrations	are
hostile	and	antagonistic.	See	Antonio	Damosio,
Descartes’	Error
	(New	York:
Grosset/Putnam,	1994).
13.
	Animal	studies	show	that	when	areas	of	the	prefrontal	lobes	are	lesioned,	so	that	they	no
longer	modulate	emotional	signals	from	the	limbic	area,	the	animals	become	erratic,
impulsively	and	unpredictably	exploding	in	rage	or	cringing	in	fear.	A.	R.	Luria,	the
brilliant	Russian	neuropsychologist,	proposed	as	long	ago	as	the	1930s	that	the	prefrontal
cortex	was	key	for	self-control	and	constraining	emotional	outbursts;	patients	who	had
damage	to	this	area,	he	noted,	were	impulsive	and	prone	to	flareups	of	fear	and	anger.
And	a	study	of	two	dozen	men	and	women	who	had	been	convicted	of	impulsive,	heat-of-
passion	murders	found,	using	PET	scans	for	brain	imaging,	that	they	had	a	much	lower
than	usual	level	of	activity	in	these	same	sections	of	the	prefrontal	cortex.
14.
	Some	of	the	main	work	on	lesioned	lobes	in	rats	was	done	by	Victor	Dennenberg,	a


psychologist	at	the	University	of	Connecticut.
15.
	Left	hemisphere	lesions	and	joviality:	G.	Gianotti,	“Emotional	behavior	and	hemispheric
side	of	lesion,”
Cortex
,	8.	1972.
16.
	The	case	of	the	happier	stroke	patient	was	reported	by	Mary	K.	Morris,	of	the	Department
of	Neurology	at	the	University	of	Florida,	at	the	International	Neurophysiological	Society
Meeting,	February	13
–16
,	1991,	in	San	Antonio.
17.
	Prefrontal	cortex	and	working	memory:	Lynn	D.	Selemon	et	al,	“Prefrontal	Cortex,”
American	Journal	of	Psychiatry
,	152,	1995.
18.
	Faulty	frontal	lobes:	Philip	Harden	and	Robert	Pihl,	“Cognitive	Function,	Cardiovascular
Reactivity,	and	Behavior	in	Boys	at	High	Risk	for	Alcoholism,”	J
ournal	of	Abnormal
Psychology
,	104,	1995.


19.
	Prefrontal	cortex:	Antonio	Damasio,
Descartes’	Error:	Emotion,	Reason	and	the	Human	Brain
(New	York:	Grosset/Putnam,	1994).


PART	TWO:	THE	NATURE	OF	EMOTIONAL	INTELLIGENCE
Chapter	3.	When	Smart	Is	Dumb
			1.
	Jason	H.’s	story	was	reported	in	“Warning	by	a	Valedictorian	Who	Faced	Prison,”	in
The
New	York	Times
	(June	23,	1992).
			2.
	One	observer	notes:	Howard	Gardner,	“Cracking	Open	the	IQ	Box,”
The	American	Prospect
,
Winter	1995.
			3.
	Richard	Herrnstein	and	Charles	Murray,
The	Bell	Curve:	Intelligence	and	Class	Structure	in
American	Life
	(New	York:	Free	Press,	1994),	p.	66.
			4.
	George	Vaillant,
Adaptation	to	Life
	(Boston:	Little,	Brown,	1977).	The	average	SAT	score	of
the	Harvard	group	was	584,	on	a	scale	where	800	is	tops.	Dr.	Vaillant,	now	at	Harvard
University	Medical	School,	told	me	about	the	relatively	poor	predictive	value	of	test	scores
for	life	success	in	this	group	of	advantaged	men.
			5.

J.	K.	Felsman	and	G.	E.	Vaillant,	“Resilient	Children	as	Adults:	A	40-Year	Study,”	in	E.	J.
Anderson	and	B.	J.	Cohler,	eds,.
The	Invulnerable	Child
	(New	York:	Guilford	Press,	1987).


(New	York:	Guilford	Press,	1987).
			6.
	Karen	Arnold,	who	did	the	study	of	valedictorians	with	Terry	Denny	at	the	University	of
Illinois,	was	quoted	in
The	Chicago	Tribune
	(May	29,	1992).
			7.
	Project	Spectrum:	Principal	colleagues	of	Gardner	in	developing	Project	Spectrum	were
Mara	Krechevsky	and	David	Feldman.
			8.
	I	interviewed	Howard	Gardner	about	his	theory	of	multiple	intelligences	in	“Rethinking
the	Value	of	Intelligence	Tests,”	in
The	New	York	Times	Education	Supplement
	(Nov.	3,
1986)	and	several	times	since.
			9.
	The	comparison	of	IQ	tests	and	Spectrum	abilities	is	reported	in	a	chapter,	coauthored
with	Mara	Krechevsky,	in	Howard	Gardner,
Multiple	Intelligences:	The	Theory	in	Practice
(New	York:	Basic	Books,	1993).
10.
	The	nutshell	summary	is	from	Howard	Gardner,
Multiple	Intelligences
,	p.	9.
11.
	Howard	Gardner	and	Thomas	Hatch,	“Multiple	Intelligences	Go	to	School,”
Educational
Researcher
	18,	8	(1989).
12.
	The	model	of	emotional	intelligence	was	first	proposed	in	Peter	Salovey	and	John	D.
Mayer,	“Emotional	intelligence,”