The Narrative Brain: Make Your Psychological Observations Stick by Telling Stories
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Two Paths, One Destination
Rachel and Eric met in graduate school, where they struck up the sort of friendship as peculiar to academia as trolling Google Scholar, pajama-clad, at a cafe that serves waffles and grease around the clock. Over the course of just such midnight research sessions, they learned they had a few things in common (such as embarrassing memories of getting Jean Piaget and Erik Erikson mixed up as sophomores) and plenty of differences. Rachel didn’t believe in wearing T-shirts her older brother hadn’t worn first and outgrown, which Eric found fun in juxtaposition to her borderline encyclopedic knowledge of French pastry making. Eric, whose sartorial inclination might be described as “tenured professor chic,” dabbled in wind instruments that hadn’t been very popular, or . . . tolerated, since the 1970s.
Their main shared interest was reading sci-fi: the more cerebral and chock-full of twists, the better.
Predictably enough, their paths diverged after graduation. Rachel immersed herself in the clinical world, eventually becoming a sought-after therapist. Eric pursued an academic route, publishing widely in the area of cognitive bias and decision-making. After years of looking for their own answers to increasingly refined psychological questions, each made the momentous decision to write a book.
Rachel aimed to translate her practical wisdom into advice for a broader audience, while Eric sought to distill his data into something accessible and meaningful. Their first long-distance phone call in months saw them talking about the difficulty of these goals. Being stuck in the same boat, neither really had advice for the other, so they soon ditched professional chatter in favor of indulging their sci-fi roots.
She told him that before starting this writing project, she’d happened upon an author who spun philosophical short stories like Bradbury exploring life on Mars. He told her how, also before diving into his current undertaking, he had been sprinting through the output of a Scottish writer who promised to become as prolific as Ursula K. Le Guin. They exchanged best-of recommendations. The same day, each avoiding a staring contest with a blank page, they retrieved each other’s suggestions and sat down to read. And read. And read.
The following morning, Rachel and Eric sat down at their very different computers in their night-and-day offices in attire that would’ve made each other laugh affectionately and, with matching resolve, began writing their ideas as stories.
Why Stories Matter
Even though Eric and Rachel were already aware of how enjoyable it was to pass an afternoon in a parallel universe, they hadn’t focused on storytelling in conjunction with current efforts to write psychology. After it occurred to them to supplement one with the other, so did the fact that—while the applications of stories transcend disciplines—there are particular benefits for psychology experts.
Based on a review of literature on the power of storytelling, Loick Roche and John Sadowsky boiled down the reasons stories have such impact to a few key conclusions (2004). Among these is the fact that stories help us not only understand but construct our identities. The authors furthermore suggested stories can bind communities by fostering a shared understanding within which connections can flourish. But most importantly—for our purposes—stories “mirror human thought” (p. 377). We process the world narratively, meaning a well-told tale harmonizes with the way we are primed to receive its message.
This is especially helpful in light of a fact psychology writers must keep in mind: nonprofessional readers will probably already have their own means of explaining the internal and interpersonal phenomena they’ve been dealing with. The vocabulary they’ve come to apply, along with any non-psychological frameworks they’ve borrowed from to establish a workable context, may feel at odds with the sort of descriptions that occur naturally to a professional.
This challenge will be looked at in greater depth in future editions, but for now, let’s focus on stories’ potential to bridge the gap between differences in knowledge of psychology, go-to terminology, and overall systems of explanation. For psychology professionals, the alignment of storytelling with the brain’s natural narrative structure presents an opportunity to give readers a felt understanding of concepts that may otherwise feel forbiddingly abstract. Readers who don’t see themselves in definitions and symptom lists may, with much greater ease, register parallels between their lives and personal stories, case studies, or fictional examples shared.
What you’ll see in the following examples is that, despite using different approaches, the authors in question show they understand the fundamentals of effective storytelling—and appreciate it as a way to connect with the people they’re writing for.
The Fictional Narrative Approach
In his popular book Your Brain at Work: Strategies for Overcoming Distraction, Regaining Focus, and Working Smarter All Day Long (2009; revised and updated edition from 2020 here), David Rock introduces two fictional characters, Paul and Emily, whose daily struggles mirror the chaos most readers face: overflowing email inboxes, multitasking disasters, and the gnawing sense of being perpetually behind.
In each scenario, readers first see Paul and Emily flounder under the weight of their accustomed cognitive habits. Then, assigning them a newfound understanding of their brains, the narrative rewinds so the pair have the chance to face the same challenges differently—this time with success. This “take two” structure not only demonstrates the application of psychological principles but also provides a template for readers to apply new understanding in their own lives.
In addition to these lesson-by-lesson benefits, the characters’ arcs create continuity, allowing readers to form some attachment to Emily and Paul that potentially renders the obstacles they face, lessons they learn, and progress they make that much more compelling.
While fictional characters like Rock’s can provide a clean and cohesive narrative arc, real-life stories offer an authenticity and immediacy that can be equally powerful.
The Art of Keeping It Real
Shawn Achor’s The Happiness Advantage: How a Positive Brain Fuels Success in Work and Life (2018) goes beyond providing an educated analysis of happiness: it’s filled with personal anecdotes from someone who walks the walk of positive psychology.
After applying to Harvard (on a dare), Achor got in, stayed through his master’s, and was then hired as a proctor to oversee students’ academic and emotional well-being. Living for twelve years at The Crimson, Achor made a lot of observations about how different approaches to stress and opportunity led to markedly different results; he also accumulated a treasury of vivid stories. This collection grew wildly with his post-Harvard travels around the world to teach leaders of Fortune 100 companies how to improve productivity by creating work cultures and habits centered on happiness.
Taking up a memoirist’s pen may seem to particularly make sense for someone like Achor—his resume and travelogue are the stuff dinner party hosts dream of. However, it’s not only his somewhat exotic experiences that bring Achor’s book to life. His account of training to be a volunteer firefighter in Texas—and believing he faced certain death during what turned out to be a teacherly prank—will stick with readers for a long time.
Whether set against a glamorous backdrop or far more conventional, Achor’s stories are successful largely because he writes them with an easy-going blend of humility, self-respect, and reflection. His stories also work because he recognizes the value of establishing setting via a few relevant and interesting details, similarly bringing a given scene’s key players into view. He works with description in a way that doesn’t frustratingly slow the pace or distract from the vital messages at hand.
Your Story, Your Way
Whether fictional narratives like David Rock’s, personal experiences like Shawn Achor’s, personally observed case studies, or well-known research brought newly to life (more on this topic to come), stories have the power to transform how psychology professionals connect with readers.
Psych Prose can help you refine your ideas into compelling narratives that not only honor the complexity of your expertise but also capture the attention and imagination of your audience. Reach out to explore how a partnership can benefit you.
References
Achor, S. (2018). The happiness advantage: How a positive brain fuels success in work and life. Crown Currency.
Roche, L. & Sadowsky, J. (2004). The power of stories (I): a discussion of why stories are powerful. International Journal of Information Technology and Management, 2(4), 377-388. https://doi.org/10.1504/IJITM.2003.004233.
Rock, D. (2009). Your brain at work: Strategies for overcoming distraction, regaining focus, and working smarter all day long. Harper Business.
