Humankind and Pygmalion Effect
“You see, really and truly, apart from the things anyone can pick up (the dressing and the proper way of speaking, and so on), the difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves but how she’s treated. I shall always be a flower girl to Professor Higgins because he always treats me as a flower girl and always will; but I know I can be a lady to you because you always treat me as a lady and always will.”
— George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion, Eliza Doolittle
Book recommendation of the day — Humankind by Rutger Bregman
Tim Harford looks at some themes covered in the book.
It’s 1963. A young psychologist named Bob Rosenthal conducts an experiment in which his assistants place rats in mazes, and then time how long it takes the rats to find the exit. They are housed in two cages: one for the smartest rats and one for rodent mediocrities. The assistants are not surprised to find that the smart rats solve the mazes more quickly.
Their supervisor is — because he knows that in truth, both cages contain ordinary lab rats. Prof Rosenthal — he would go on to chair Harvard’s psychology department — eventually concluded that the secret ingredient was the expectations of his assistants: they treated the “special” rats with care and handled the “stupid” rats with disdain. When we expect the best, we get the best — even if we expect it of a rat.
The story is well told in Rutger Bregman’s new book Humankind. His interest in Prof Rosenthal’s work is not hard to explain. Mr Bregman argues that people are fundamentally friendly and self-motivated. But he also argues that when we expect more of each other then, like the rats, we rise to the occasion. If schools, police or corporations believe that people are sluggish, dishonest or lazy, they may be proved right.
Prof Rosenthal coined the phrase “the Pygmalion effect”, the name inspired by Ovid’s account of a sculptor whose infatuation with a statue brings it to life. But the Pygmalion effect is just one example of what the sociologist Robert K. Merton called “self-fulfilling prophecies”.
There’s the placebo effect and its malign twin, the “nocebo effect”: if the doctor tells you a drug may produce side effects, some patients feel those side effects even if given an inert pill.
Self-fulfilling prophecies are a staple of economics. A recession can be caused by the expectation of a recession, if people hesitate to spend, hire or invest. And a bank run is the quintessential self-fulfilling prophecy.
The self-defeating prophecy is just as fascinating, and a problem that bedevils economic forecasters. If I credibly predict a surge in the price of oil next year, the surge will happen immediately as oil traders buy low now to sell high later. The forecast goes awry precisely because people thought it was accurate.
The coronavirus era has brought us a vivid example. A vocal minority argues that Covid-19 is not much worse than the influenza we ignore every winter, so both mandatory lockdowns and voluntary precautions have been unnecessary.
Related:
The Power of the Pygmalion Effect
The Pygmalion Effect: Proving Them Right
Some managers always treat their subordinates in a way that leads to superior performance. But most … unintentionally treat their subordinates in a way that leads to lower performance than they are capable of achieving. The way managers treat their subordinates is subtly influenced by what they expect of them. If manager’s expectations are high, productivity is likely to be excellent. If their expectations are low, productivity is likely to be poor. It is as though there were a law that caused subordinates’ performance to rise or fall to meet managers’ expectations.