It’s curious, isn’t it? A simple concept, often expressed by a tiny word, yet it’s a space where we constantly stumble. This isn't just about language; it’s about how our minds work, how we guide others, and even how we understand ourselves. We see the signs: "Do not walk on the lawn." "No smoking." But what happens in our heads is far more complex, and often, the opposite of what's intended.

The Two Languages Within Us

We operate with more than just spoken words. There’s a fundamental way we connect with the world, a kind of first response system. Think about how we understand emotions. A facial expression, a sudden tensing of muscles, eyes widening – these speak a universal language. It’s why we can often grasp the gist of a foreign film without subtitles, or sense an animal's mood. This is our direct line to understanding, raw and immediate. It doesn't rely on a dictionary; it relies on shared experience and innate responses. We see someone grieving, and we understand, even if no word is uttered.

Then there's the world of words, our second, more structured system of communication. Imagine a thought, a concept – perhaps a fleeting image or feeling. Freud might have called this the "preconscious," an idea bubbling just below the surface. In one part of our mind, an analog image forms. I know what I mean, or who I mean, but the name, the label, escapes me. It’s that tip-of-the-tongue feeling. When our brain successfully pairs this internal image with a symbolic partner – a word – it happens in a different part of our cognitive machinery. We then speak this sign, this collection of sounds. If the person listening can translate that sound set back into a similar analog image, understanding occurs. If they don’t know the language, it remains just noise, no connection made. This is the intricate dance of encoding and decoding that underpins our verbal interactions.

The Curious Case of "Don't"

Here’s where things get particularly tricky, especially with that little word of negation. If I say, “Don’t think of a red apple,” what’s the first thing that pops into your mind? An apple, likely a red one. Our brains, when presented with "not X" where X has a sensory image, still tend to conjure X. It has to picture the apple to understand what not to think about.

This isn't just a mental quirk; it has real-world consequences. That "No Smoking" sign? While well-intentioned, it flashes the image of smoking, potentially reminding someone of the very habit it aims to discourage. Notice the cigarette butts often littering the ground nearby? It’s not that the sign means "no cigarette butts," but it brings smoking to the forefront of the mind. Similarly, "Do not walk on the lawn" immediately plants the seed: "Ah, but one could walk here."

This extends to how we often try to manage emotions. "Don't worry." "Don't be upset." How often do these phrases actually dispel the worry or upset? More often, they just highlight the feeling we're trying to avoid. We can encourage looking at the world optimistically, but simply saying "don't think about it" is rarely a switch that can be easily flipped.

The Weight of Negative Instructions

The pitfalls of "don't" become especially apparent, and sometimes tragically so, in safety instructions. Often, these warnings are crafted more to assign responsibility than to genuinely prevent harm. "We warned you not to do that." But if the instruction focuses on the forbidden action, it can inadvertently model it. Imagine telling someone operating a lathe, "If a part flies out of the rotating cylinder, you mustn't, under any circumstances, try to grab the spinning piece with your hand." What image have you just painted? A more effective approach would be: "If a part comes loose, take a step back. Move out of the danger zone." The first warns; the second guides towards safety. The goal should be fewer injuries, not just a completed checklist.

Consider how this plays out in parenting. There's a theory that young children might only begin to consciously deceive after a parent asks, "Are you lying?" Before that, they might fantasize or tell tall tales, but the direct accusation introduces the idea of deliberate falsehood for personal gain. It’s a controversial idea, but it highlights how our framing can shape understanding and behavior.

The Allure of the Forbidden

When we forbid something, especially to a developing mind, we risk making it uniquely attractive. "You can be friends with Paul, you can hang out with Kevin, but you absolutely cannot associate with Simon." What happens? Simon suddenly becomes a focal point. A forbidden need often finds a way to express itself, sometimes in distorted forms. By limiting a person's perceived right to choose or even think about an option, we can inadvertently push them towards it. It's human nature to want to explore all perceived options, to expand our degrees of freedom.

If a young person is told they can go to the disco with one acquaintance (who is boring), to the movies with another (equally uninteresting), but under no circumstances interact with a particular individual, where might their curiosity lead? Often, towards the very option that was so strictly prohibited, perhaps in a clandestine way that carries more risk than open exploration would have. We sometimes, with the best intentions, steer our children towards the outcomes we most fear simply by forbidding them.

Finding Freedom in Conscious Choice

There’s an interesting perspective often associated with Japanese child-rearing: the idea of not forbidding children things until they reach a certain age, around five to seven years old. Instead of snatching a toy away with a "don't," the approach is to replace it with something safer or more appropriate. The thinking is that children in their early years are considered special, and this lack of early prohibitions helps them retain the ability to truly feel and understand what they want.

When they grow and enter a society that, like Japan's, can be very structured with numerous social norms and high population density, this early foundation might play a crucial role. One might expect that more rules and density would lead to more stress and perhaps a lower life expectancy. Yet, Japanese men, for example, tend to live significantly longer than men in some other developed nations. A contributing factor could be this retained ability to know what they genuinely desire. When they then consciously choose not to do something, even if it aligns with a societal necessity, it's an act of personal decision, not an externally imposed restriction. This resonates with the Marxist idea that "Freedom is conscious necessity." When I decide for myself that something is necessary, I don’t feel constrained; it’s my choice. This internal locus of control can be a powerful buffer against stress.

Speaking the Language of "Yes"

So, how do we use this understanding? When we set goals, make wishes, or try to break habits, the framing should be positive. Instead of "I will not smoke," which brings smoking to mind, try "I will breathe freely," or "I will embrace a healthy lifestyle." The image should be of the desired state, the positive outcome. I can give up a sensory image of an unwanted habit, focusing on the freedom gained.

This is about using the word "no," and the concept of negation, more competently. Understanding these rules of how our minds process prohibitions and instructions can allow us to communicate much more effectively, achieve better results from our interactions, and ultimately, support our mental well-being. It’s about choosing our words, and our thoughts, with a deeper awareness of their power.

Good luck to you.

References:

• Freud, S. (1915). The Unconscious. In The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud, Volume XIV (1914-1916): On the History of the Psycho-Analytic Movement, Papers on Metapsychology and Other Works (pp. 159-215). Hogarth Press.

  This work by Freud introduces his topographical model of the mind, including the "preconscious" (Pcs.). The article touches upon Freud's concept when discussing how an analog image or thought arises before it is encoded into a symbolic sign (word), which aligns with the preconscious as a region of the mind where thoughts are not currently conscious but are accessible to consciousness.

• Wason, P. C. (1959). The processing of positive and negative information. Quarterly Journal of Experimental Psychology, 11(2), 92-107.

  This seminal paper by Wason provides experimental evidence that negative statements (e.g., "This is not X") take longer to process and are more prone to errors than positive statements. This directly supports the article's central theme that prohibitions and negative framing (like "Do not walk on the lawn" or "Don't think of an apple") can be counterintuitive or less effective because the brain must first process the concept being negated.

• Pavlov, I. P. (1927). Conditioned Reflexes: An Investigation of the Physiological Activity of the Cerebral Cortex (Translated by G. V. Anrep). Oxford University Press.

  While the article doesn't explicitly name Pavlov, its description of the "first signal system" (direct sensory stimuli, emotional reactions) and the "second signal system" (language as symbols representing these stimuli and concepts) is a direct reflection of Pavlov's theories. This foundational work explains how organisms respond to direct environmental cues and, in humans, how language develops as a higher-order system of signals built upon these primary responses. The article’s discussion of understanding facial expressions as part of the first system, and language as an analog coding and sign decoding system, echoes Pavlov’s concepts.