The Enigma of Memory : the 10th Edition
Our memories are building blocks to our own identities and pathways forward
Thought of the week
The only constant in life is change. When it all seems too much or challenging, remember, Things will change. — Paraphrased from Headspace Meditation, for I cannot recall the exact quote
Do our memories look like cinematic flashbacks? Are they hazy visions of what once was? Do they present themselves in words, sounds and images? Do we bastardize and change them in poor attempts to convey memory with words?
My past continues to stack behind me and the further I attempt to look back the more challenging it is to recall details. However those recollections, while non-specific but intuitive, help construct the choices I make to take steps toward the future.
I would venture to say I am quite different from who I was ten years ago. The snapshots we hold of one another can create rifts in our ability to connect as memory offers an incomplete view of our epic life journeys. What aspects of me, then make up who I am? Do I shed personality traits, beliefs and desires regularly like layers of skin? What components of who I am keep me the same to those with whom I’m connected? Perhaps it’s merely my name and relative form that remain recognizable to individuals I know from years’ past. I’m pleased with who I am today, but those who haven’t been around for that ride may find my shifts disappointing and unrecognizable, offering little opportunity to get to know the “new” me. I find myself falling into this trap regularly. A memory of an old high school acquaintance may hold me from connecting with them, even though they too have likely evolved and changed positively. In tired fights with loved ones, mistakes of old can hold root and be used to slap a person back to where they once were rather than allow for that initial forgiveness and reconciliation to stand firm. The juggling act between acknowledging change against a memory of wounds can keep us from progressing forward, or doom us to repeat the same mistakes.
My memory for my own history is terrible. They are faulty and even more troubling is the realization that they can be false. The Mandela Effect (a form of confabulation) is named for the collective false memory that Nelson Mandela died during his imprisonment in the 1980s in South Africa; he actually died in 2013 of a respiratory infection. My own confrontation with the Mandela Effect was when I realized Shazaam starring Sinbad was not a real film. I’m not proud to say I’ve also been swept up in a few more:
The BerenstEin Bears isn’t a thing - it’s the BerenstAin Bears. This one still feels so wrong but I’m trying to correct my ways.
Hannibal Lector never said “hello Clarice,” he just said ‘Good morning.’
Darth Vadar never said “Luke, I am your father” he says “No. I am your father.” James Earl Jones even remembers it wrong.
Fortunately these false memories are relatively harmless but it occurs to me I should be less confident in my memories. This collection of false memories are produced by the Misinformation Effect. The tendency we have to disregard the evidence in front of us in favor of our own weak memories is what concerns me as society progresses onward. The resistance to correct false memories coupled with the selection of narratives that reinforce one’s memory blaze forward en masse to further spread misinformation and conspiracy theories.
Our collective memories can bind us together and help create a better future - while also inflicting fractures and rifts in society. The things we remember in the past allow us to anticipate things about the future (Dr. Andrew Huberman). What happens when we disagree so widely on that history? Is this a common feature of humanity that perhaps is more prescient due to the vast networks connecting and informing the world?
Do we trust our own instincts and memories or those of others and preserved history? The duel-edged blade of memory is one of falsified memories to be corrected while the other yields the disturbing practice of gaslighting - forcing the doubt of memory, to the point of convincing one it isn’t real. If you’re confronted with this sword, please speak with a therapist, because I’m broaching into subject matter I’m unequipped to advise. I am not positing that memories are only false and we should always doubt ourselves. The paradox of memory is fascinating and complex, one of which requires more research and education than my day job affords. While memory is manipulatable, fickle, and confounding, it is also what ties us together as a human species. Whether or not we arrive at varying conclusions, a broadly collective agreement allows us to bind to a time before our own. It pushes us forward to adapt and build. Humans have the unique ability to reassess that memory and correct the mistakes of selective story-telling; to include the breadth of multiple perspectives and create a more complete picture. Memory is truly remarkable.
Shit. Where’s my phone again?
I’m very interested to hear what your thoughts are surrounding memory - I’ve barely scratched the surface from a research perspective. Is there anything about memory you have found interesting? Have you been confronted with your own false memories? What do you find helpful to increase or retain your own memories? Reply back or leave a public comment to discuss!