Fundamental attribution error, my arse
The things people do for science.
Psych today on social cognition and influence. The lecturer talked about the Stanford Prison Experiment - which was, frankly, pretty sick. Then there was also the experiment conducted by Stanley Milgram at Yale, which was quite sick as well. Nobody was hurt, but it wasn't that ethical either.
Anyway. Fundamental attribution error.
Fundamental attribution error (also known as correspondence bias or overattribution effect) is tendency for people to over-emphasize dispositional, or personality-based, explanations for behaviors observed in others while under-emphasizing situational explanations. In other words, people have an unjustified tendency to assume that a person's actions depend on what "kind" of person that person is rather than on the social and environmental forces that influence the person.
Kinda. Not that I'm that bothered, you know. And all my impressions that you're self-centred didn't change a bit today.
Stop telling me you're depressed. I'm sick of hearing it. If you knew what real depression was, you wouldn't be so quick to tell everyone you're depressed. I've been further down than you have, and that wasn't depression. Listening to someone tell me of his/her real experience with depression changed my viewpoint on it. Anyway. STOP telling me you suck at everything. You're not even making a real effort to find out what you want. You just write suggestions off as "bullshit", when you haven't even tried anything much in the first place.
You suck. I don't.
Funny thing, people. Anne Frank's last entry talked about herself being "a little bundle of contradictions". Most of us are, I think. We say one thing, do the other, and hold beliefs and attitudes which clash with each other anyway. Psych again. The lecturer talked about how we often try to find congruence between our different beliefs and attitudes by using justification. Self-justifying what we have done, when the act itself was against our moral principles in the first place. Social and environmental influence.
Today started off quite well: dozed off till 8.30, nobody to bother me. Read the journals of Sylvia Plath till nearly ten. (No, Chin, it's keeping me sane right now.) Psych was interesting today; didn't nod off once even. Chemistry spent listening to another girl bullshitting mygullible friend that her brother was 50 years old. (When she said - and I heard from the first time - that her brother was really 15.) No seriously. And my friend - a guy, but I'm not being sexist here - believed everything she said. She told him that her parents had her brother when they were 15. And he believed everything. Funny kan?
Tried to read The Bell Jar this afternoon. Seemed a bit stale, after reading it for so many times. Then slept from 5. To 11 something. And had my dinner at 11.30. To think I actually went back early today in the rain because I wanted to study. Plans down the drain. Eff you.
On the other hand, THANK YOU for today. I would have cried like a baby in front of anyone if it weren't for you.
Such contradictions. Situational? Personality? What gives eh?
Another funny thing. Plath had this irrational fear of writing; it was more apparent towards the end of her journal. She kept blaming her mother for her father's early death; he died suddenly when she was only 8. She tried to repress the unpleasant emotions towards her mother, and ended up feeling worse. Consulted a psychiatrist (was it? or a psychotherapist? can't remember) who told her: "I give you permission to hate your mother." Bit disturbing. But it changed something in her, and she began to feel easier with her writing. Another thing: she worried about money and her future with Ted Hughes, her husband. Poetry wasn't a lucrative career; most people told her that it wasn't even a proper career. She went ahead anyway with her dream. Though there was undeniably professional envy with Ted, since her poems were rejected, while he won awards and his works were published. Still. She kept at it. Began to break away from her earlier thinking. Did her work on her own instead of asking Hughes to evaluate every single work she planned to send out. Gained confidence, I guess.
Her dreams were insane. Seriously. Dreamed of people getting mutilated, of stray human heads found in closets, walking corpses and the like. Gore and cadavers. Woke screaming once, she noted. I think she was bipolar. Too intense. Maybe it did her in in the end.
It's 1 a.m. Not that I care particularly. I need a driving licence. So let me go for the test already, bitch. I can't keep running round like that, asking so much of people. Truth is, it unsettles me. Still does. Nearly every day.
Psych today on social cognition and influence. The lecturer talked about the Stanford Prison Experiment - which was, frankly, pretty sick. Then there was also the experiment conducted by Stanley Milgram at Yale, which was quite sick as well. Nobody was hurt, but it wasn't that ethical either.
Anyway. Fundamental attribution error.
Fundamental attribution error (also known as correspondence bias or overattribution effect) is tendency for people to over-emphasize dispositional, or personality-based, explanations for behaviors observed in others while under-emphasizing situational explanations. In other words, people have an unjustified tendency to assume that a person's actions depend on what "kind" of person that person is rather than on the social and environmental forces that influence the person.
Kinda. Not that I'm that bothered, you know. And all my impressions that you're self-centred didn't change a bit today.
Stop telling me you're depressed. I'm sick of hearing it. If you knew what real depression was, you wouldn't be so quick to tell everyone you're depressed. I've been further down than you have, and that wasn't depression. Listening to someone tell me of his/her real experience with depression changed my viewpoint on it. Anyway. STOP telling me you suck at everything. You're not even making a real effort to find out what you want. You just write suggestions off as "bullshit", when you haven't even tried anything much in the first place.
You suck. I don't.
Funny thing, people. Anne Frank's last entry talked about herself being "a little bundle of contradictions". Most of us are, I think. We say one thing, do the other, and hold beliefs and attitudes which clash with each other anyway. Psych again. The lecturer talked about how we often try to find congruence between our different beliefs and attitudes by using justification. Self-justifying what we have done, when the act itself was against our moral principles in the first place. Social and environmental influence.
Today started off quite well: dozed off till 8.30, nobody to bother me. Read the journals of Sylvia Plath till nearly ten. (No, Chin, it's keeping me sane right now.) Psych was interesting today; didn't nod off once even. Chemistry spent listening to another girl bullshitting my
Tried to read The Bell Jar this afternoon. Seemed a bit stale, after reading it for so many times. Then slept from 5. To 11 something. And had my dinner at 11.30. To think I actually went back early today in the rain because I wanted to study. Plans down the drain. Eff you.
On the other hand, THANK YOU for today. I would have cried like a baby in front of anyone if it weren't for you.
Such contradictions. Situational? Personality? What gives eh?
Another funny thing. Plath had this irrational fear of writing; it was more apparent towards the end of her journal. She kept blaming her mother for her father's early death; he died suddenly when she was only 8. She tried to repress the unpleasant emotions towards her mother, and ended up feeling worse. Consulted a psychiatrist (was it? or a psychotherapist? can't remember) who told her: "I give you permission to hate your mother." Bit disturbing. But it changed something in her, and she began to feel easier with her writing. Another thing: she worried about money and her future with Ted Hughes, her husband. Poetry wasn't a lucrative career; most people told her that it wasn't even a proper career. She went ahead anyway with her dream. Though there was undeniably professional envy with Ted, since her poems were rejected, while he won awards and his works were published. Still. She kept at it. Began to break away from her earlier thinking. Did her work on her own instead of asking Hughes to evaluate every single work she planned to send out. Gained confidence, I guess.
Her dreams were insane. Seriously. Dreamed of people getting mutilated, of stray human heads found in closets, walking corpses and the like. Gore and cadavers. Woke screaming once, she noted. I think she was bipolar. Too intense. Maybe it did her in in the end.
It's 1 a.m. Not that I care particularly. I need a driving licence. So let me go for the test already, bitch. I can't keep running round like that, asking so much of people. Truth is, it unsettles me. Still does. Nearly every day.
posted by Lynn at
12:34 am
1 Comments:
phew I've finally finished those articles.
I kinda thought about it and wondered if curiosity would make some base for reasoning.
Milgram's experiment doesnt appear as bad as that of Zimbardo's...but Milgram, he wanted to study that obidience theory thingy after the Nazis lost, he didnt use methods of which its obvious outcomes could be seen like those of the latter.
He appeared more curious to find out why and how...though its like saying Hitler got curious too...
However, if this wasnt disturbing enough, I somehow found a link that lead to another link and another and found myself scrolling through picture after picture of the Abu Ghraib prison tortures. I cant find words strong enough to express the shock and devastation in me.
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