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Transcend: The New Science of Self-Actualization by Scott Barry Kaufman
Rebecca Gotlieb
Rebecca Gotlieb

Scott Barry Kaufman, author/editor of bold and brilliant books including Ungifted, Wired to Create, and Twice Exceptional, once again released a powerful, creative, and comprehensive book to help people reach their fullest potential and create a better society. Transcend: The New Science of Self-Actualization is an homage to Abraham Maslow that offers a fuller picture of his theory and updates it with the latest scientific advances about human transcendence. Transcend also serves as an inspiring guide offering wise advice and practical suggestions about how to become more deeply fulfilled and fully human. This book will appeal to anyone interested in the latest research from humanistic psychology or wishing to better themselves. It feels especially timely now when we can all benefit from good health, growth, creativity, connection, and love.

Maslow is most widely associated with a pyramid depicting needs, increasing from basic physiological and safety needs to esteem and self-actualization needs. Maslow, however, never created this pyramid and believed that these needs are much more fluid and individually and culturally variable than the pyramid model suggests. Kaufman argues that a more apt visual representation for humans’ needs is a sailboat to guide people in the direction of the good life. The boat itself represents our basic needs—for safety, connection, and self-esteem. The sail represents our growth-oriented needs—for exploration, love, and purpose.

Throughout Transcend Kaufman offers biographical information about Maslow that helps contextualize his theory and brings him to life in a sensitive and vivid way. Growing up in a working-class, immigrant family that faced discrimination and anti-Semitism, Maslow recognized that when basic needs go unmet individuals and society suffer. Inspired by his study of the Northern Blackfoot Indians on the Siksika reserve in Alberta, Canada, Maslow believed that people are fundamentally good. Maslow’s experience training with Harry Harlow, who is famous for studying maternal-separation, informed Maslow’s theory about the need for connection. Kaufman argues that Maslow believed himself to be a messiah-of-sorts, with critical counsel to offer to future generations. As a teacher Maslow was determined not only to enrich his students’ intellectual lives, but also to uplift them morally.

In reconstructing Maslow’s theory, Kaufman combines physiological and safety needs since recent research suggests that our physiological and psychological needs are entwined. For too many people basic physiological and safety needs are not met. Social isolation and loneliness are also commonly experienced and are associated with increased risk of death. The quantity of relationships in one’s life is less important than having relationships that offer a sense of mutual, unconditional positive regard. When one has meaningful connections with others and has accomplished meaningful goals, one can develop genuine self-esteem, take pride in one’s ambitions, and embracing one’s gifts.
Kaufman’s recent research about self-actualized individuals suggests that, much as Maslow theorized, the characteristics of self-actualization include truth-seeking, acceptance, purpose, authenticity, appreciation, humanitarianism, equanimity, and more. Kaufman found that these qualities are quite common.

Individuals who are more self-actualized are more motivated by growth, exploration, and a love of humanity. Growth and exploration take courage and can increase success. Maslow described mature love as involving caring for others, striving to alleviate suffering, and experiencing compassion. Healthy loving relationships balance each party’s need for individuality with the need for connectedness. The self-actualized individual has a purpose or calling that aligns with her talents, encourages her growth, and allows her to make positive contributions.

Transcendence, which often follows an emotional nadir, involves an integration of the whole-self, seeing sacredness in all things, loving wholeheartedly, and demonstrating wisdom. Kaufman argues that the science of transcendence suggests that society should be moving towards rewarding virtuous action, moving away from nationalism, inspiring awe in young people, and helping individuals discover their potential.

Inspired by both Maslow and more recent research, Kaufman offers a comprehensive set of suggestions for helping us become our whole, best selves. Facing our own mortality can renew our appreciation for the wonder of life and center our attention on our core values. Maslow, and in turn Kaufman, advise seeking out new experiences, especially with art and nature, and creating time for meditation. We can be compassionate with ourselves by embracing our past and our dark sides, thinking about how a loving friend views us, becoming aware of our complex personalities, and striving for growth. We should strive to increase gratitude and awe, admit ignorance, face our fears, take risks, and let go of perfectionism. We can better ourselves by helping others and cultivating our relationships through active listening and question asking.

To explore your own pattern of self-actualization visit Kaufman’s website: selfactualizationtest.com. Transcend offers a unique and powerful combination—intriguing insights into the science and theory of self-actualization and precious advice to guide you to becoming a better version of yourself.

Kaufman, S. B. (2020). Transcend: The New Science of Self-Actualization. TarcherPerigee.

“Doing Science” or “Being a Scientist”: What Words Motivate Students?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Teachers often find that small changes in wording produce big benefits.

One recent example: a research team in New York explored the difference between “being a scientist” and “doing science.”

The first phrasing — “being a scientist” — might imply that scientist is a kind of fixed, exclusive identity. In the same way that dogs are dogs and can’t also be cats, so too young children might infer that people who are artists or athletes or authors can’t also be scientists.

The second phrasing — “doing science” — might clear away that rigidity. This classroom exercise is something we’re all doing. It doesn’t have immediate identity implications one way or another.

If this simple switch in phrasing helps motivate students, that would be the least expensive, least time-consuming intervention EVAH.

The Research

Three researchers prepared a science lesson about friction for pre-kindergarten students.

Half of the teachers (62) saw a training video that modeled specific language: “Today we are going to do science! The first part of doing science is observing with our senses.”

The other half (68) saw a similar video that didn’t include such modeling. (Researchers assumed that most teachers — without clear modeling — would using phrasing about ‘being a scientist’ rather than ‘doing science.’ Indeed, that’s what happened.)

Teachers then ran those friction lessons, where toy cars rolled down ramps with different surfaces: carpet, sandpaper, wrapping paper.

A few days later, these pre-K students had the chance to play a tablet-based video game that resembled their science experiment. The game was programmed in such a way that all students got the first round right (success!) and the second round wrong (struggle!).

So, how long did these children persist after struggle? And: did the “doing science” vs. “being a scientist” language matter?

The Results

Sure enough, students in the “do science” lessons persisted longer than those in the the “be a scientist” lessons.

That is: when teachers spoke of science an action we take, not an identity that we have (or don’t have), this subtle linguistic shift motivated to students to keep going longer.

The effects, although statistically significant, were quite small.

Students in the “do science” lessons were 6% likelier to continue after they got one question wrong. And they were 4% likelier to keep going three problems later. (You read that right: six percent, and four percent.)

We might read these results and throw our hands up in exasperation. “Six percent! Who cares?”

My answer is: we ought to care. Here’s why.

Students experienced this linguistic change exactly once. It cost nothing to enact. It took no time whatsover. Unlike so many educational interventions — pricey and time consuming — this one leaves our scarcest resources intact.

Now: imagine the effect if students heard this language more than once. What if they heard it every time their teacher talked with them about science. (Or, art. Or, creativity. Or, math. Or, any of those things that feel like ‘identities’ rather than ‘activities.’)

We don’t (yet) have research to answer those questions. But it seems entirely plausible that this FREE intervention could have increasingly substantial impact over a student’s school career.

One Step More

In two ways, this research reminds me of Mindset Theory.

First: Dweck’s work has taken quite a drubbing in recent months. In some some social media circles, it’s fashionable to look down on this research — especially because “the effects are so small.”

But, again: if one short mindset intervention (that is FREE and takes NO TIME) produces any effect — even a very small effect — that’s good news. Presumably we can repeat it often enough to make a greater difference over time.

I’m not arguing that promoting a growth mindset will change everything. I am arguing that even small boosts in motivation — especially motivation in schools — should be treasured, not mocked.

Second: this research rhymes with Mindset Theory. Although the researchers didn’t measure the students’ mindsets — and certainly didn’t measure any potential change in mindset — the underlying theory fits well with Dweck’s work.

That is: people who have a fixed mindset typically interpret success or failure to result from identity: I am (or am not) a “math person,” and that’s why I succeeded (or failed).

People with a growth mindset typically interpret success or failure to result from the quality of work that was done. If I work effectively, I get good results; if I don’t, I don’t.

So: this study considered students who heard that they should think about science as an identity (“being a scientist”) or as a kind of mental work (“doing science”). The results line up neatly with mindset predictions.

To Sum Up

First: small changes in language really can matter.

Second: encouraging students to “do this work” rather than “be this kind of person” can have motivational benefits.

Third: small changes in student motivation might not seem super impressive in the short term. But, if they add up over time, they might be well worth the very small investment needed to create them.

Unbearable Irony: When Dunning-Kruger Bites Back…
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

More than most psychology findings, the Dunning-Kruger effect gets a laugh every time.

Here goes:

Imagine that I give 100 people a grammar test. If my test is well-designed, it gives me insight into their actual knowledge of grammar.

I could divide them into 4 groups: those who know the least about grammar (the 25 who got the lowest scores), those who know the most (the 25 highest scores), and two groups of 25 in between.

I could also ask those same 100 people to predict how well they did on that test.

Here’s the question: what’s the relationship between actual grammar knowledge and confidence about grammar knowledge?

John Cleese — who is friends with David Dunning — sums up the findings this way:

In order to know how good you are at something requires exactly the same skills as it does to be good at that thing in the first place.

Which means — and this is terribly funny — that if you’re absolutely no good at something at all, then you lack exactly the skills that you need to know that you’re absolutely no good at it. [Link]

In other words:

The students who got the lowest 25 scores averaged 17% on that quiz. And, they predicted (on average) that they got a 60%.

Because they don’t know much grammar, they don’t know enough to recognize how little they know.

In Dunning’s research, people who don’t know much about a discipline consistently overestimate their skill, competence, and knowledge base.

Here’s a graph, adapted from figure 3 of Dunning and Kruger’s 1999 study, showing that relationship:

Adapted from figure 3 of Kruger, J., & Dunning, D. (1999). Unskilled and unaware of it: How difficulties in recognizing one’s own incompetence lead to inflated self-assessments. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 77(6), 1121-1134.

Let the Ironies Begin

That graph might surprise you. In fact, you might be expecting a graph that looks like this:

Certainly that was the graph I was expecting to find when I looked at Kruger & Dunning’s 1999 study. After all, you can find that graph — or some variant — practically everywhere you look for information about Dunning-Kruger.

It seems that the best-known Dunning-Kruger graph wasn’t created by Dunning or Kruger.

If that’s true, that’s really weird. (I hope I’m wrong.)

But this story gets curiouser. Check out this version:

This one has thrown in the label “Mount Stupid.” (You’ll find that on several Dunning-Kruger graphs.) And, amazingly, it explicitly credits the 1999 study for this image.

That’s right. This website is calling other people stupid while providing an inaccurate source for its graph of stupidity. It is — on the one hand — mocking people for overestimating their knowledge, while — on the other hand — demonstrating the conspicuous limits of its own knowledge.

Let’s try one more:

I am, quite honestly, praying that this is a joke. (The version I found is behind a paywall, so I can’t be sure.)

If it’s not a joke, I have some suggestions. When you want to make fun of someone else for overestimating their knowledge,

First: remember that “no nothing” and “know nothing” don’t mean the same thing. Choose your spelling carefully. (“No nothing” is how an 8-year-old responds to this parental sentence: “Did you break the priceless vase and what are you holding behind your back?’)

Second: The Nobel Prize in Psychology didn’t write this study. Kruger and Dunning did.

Third: The Nobel Prize in Psychology doesn’t exist. There is no such thing.

Fourth: Dunning and Kruger won the Ig Nobel Prize in Psychology in 2000. The Ig Nobel Prize is, of course, a parody.

So, either this version is a coy collection of jokes, or someone who can’t spell the word “know” correctly is posting a graph about others’ incompetence.

At this point, I honestly don’t know which is true. I do know that the god of Irony is tired and wants a nap.

Closing Points

First: Karma dictates that in a post where I rib people for making obviously foolish mistakes, I will make an obviously foolish mistake. Please point it out to me. We’ll both get a laugh. You’ll get a free box of Triscuits.

Second: I haven’t provided sources for the graphs I’m decrying. My point is not to put down individuals, but to critique a culture-wide habit: passing along “knowledge” without making basic attempts to verify the source.

Third: I really want to know where this well-known graph comes from. If you know, please tell me! I’ve reached out to a few websites posting its early versions — I hope they’ll pass along the correct source.

Music and Memory: A Learning Strategy?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Ever since the “Mozart Effect” was debunked, teachers have wanted to understand the relationship between music and learning.

If simply listening to music doesn’t “make us smarter” in some abstract way, can we use music strategically to help us learn specific subjects or topics?

A group of researchers at Baylor University wondered if the key is sleep.

That is: if students learn a topic while listening to (quiet) music, and then listen to that same music while they sleep, will it cause the brain to replay the academic content associated with the music? And, will that replay help students learn?

Intriguing, no?

This technique — called “targeted memory reactivation” — has been studied before. But, most of that research uses odors to reactivate memories.

That is: students learn X with the scent of roses in the background. That night while they sleep, the scent of roses is piped into the room. When they’re tested the next day — voila! — they remember more X than the students who didn’t get the “targeted memory reactivation” at night.

Of course, using odors for such reactivation is interesting in sleep labs. But it might not be very practical for the rest of us. So, researchers wondered if music would also reactivate memories.

The Research

Chenlu Gao, Paul Fillmore, Michael K. Scullin asked students to watch a 30-minute interactive video lecture on economics. During that lecture, classical music played quietly in the background. (The sound level was “soft background noise in a library.”)

So: students’ brains associated the music — Beethoven, Vivaldi, Chopin — with the topic — economics.

That night, while they slept, half of the students heard that same music played again. The other half heard white noise instead. The music/white noise started once students entered a particular phase of sleep, called “slow wave sleep.” (In this case, slow wave sleep began about 35 minutes after they fell asleep.)

Gao, Fillmore, and Scullin wanted to know:

Compared to students who heard white noise while sleeping, would the students who heard the music remember the lecture better?

Would they be able to apply its principles better?

Might there be a gender difference in those results?

So: what effect did Beethoven have?

The Results

Sure enough, targeted memory reactivation had interesting and measurable effects.

First: the next morning, students who heard music at night were likelier to “pass” a quiz (by scoring 70%) than those who didn’t.

Second: those differences came largely in two categories. The music helped women (but not men). And the music helped students answer application questions (but not factual questions).

Third: researchers measured students’ brain activity during sleep. In brief, students who heard music had different brain wave patterns than those who heard the white noise. And, those who did better on the quizzes had different patterns than those who didn’t.

These results get SUPER technical. But the headline is: we can quite plausibly connect mental behaviors (answers to quizzes) to neurobiological behaviors (“theta power”).

Fourth (This is really important): Researchers found NO DIFFERENCES when they tested the students nine months later. So, this targeted memory reactivation (with music) produced a short-term difference, but not a long-term one.

Implications for Teaching and Learning

This musical version of targeted memory reactivation feels temptingly practical. But: trying it out in real life requires some extrapolation and some technology.

I briefly corresponded with the lead researcher, Michael Scullin, about translating this technique from the sleep lab to everyday life. Here’s a quick overview of key points:

PROBLEM: In this study, students heard the music as they first learned the material. But, it’s REALLY unlikely that teachers/professors will play music while they teach. So, how can we apply use targeted memory reactivation in a more typical learning situation?

SOLUTION: The technique just might work if students play the right kind of music while they study, and then replay that music while they sleep. In this case, “the right kind of music” means instrumental, not distracting, relatively quiet.

However, this approach probably won’t work if students are otherwise distracted — by cellphones or video games, say — while they study.

PROBLEM: Presumably I can’t use the same piece of music to reactivate all memories of all the academic topics I want to learn. Does that mean I have to build some huge library of music cues: this Beethoven piece to recall the Battle of Bunker Hill, that Chopin piece to practice balancing chemical equations?

SOLUTION: Alas, it’s true: each piece of music would be distinctively paired with a particular topic. (This conclusion hasn’t been tested, but is likely true.)

So, the best compromise is probably this: choose the topics that are most difficult to understand or remember, and use the technique sparingly for that subset of academic information.

PROBLEM: Won’t playing music at night keep students awake, or wake them up?

SOLUTION: That’s an important technical question. Ideally, the music would play quietly.  And, as we saw in the research described above, it would start only after slow wave sleep started.

So, whatever technology the students have, they should program it to start the music at very low levels — ideally starting about 30 minutes after they fall asleep.

QUESTION: The technique helped in the short term, but not nine months later. Can we use targeted memory reactivation to consolidate learning over the long term?

ANSWER: We haven’t tested that yet. It seems plausible (even likely?) that repeating the music over time would help. That is: listening to that music once a fortnight for a few months might really firm up memories.

But, again, that approach hasn’t been tested. I (Andrew Watson, not Michael Scullin) am speculating that it might work. But we don’t know.

In Sum…

This research — contrary to lots of earlier work — suggests that we might be able to learn while we sleep.

But, the specifics are very much in the early days. Targeted memory reactivation clearly produces benefits in the sleep lab. Its application to everyday teaching and learning needs to be explored, practiced, and refined.


I wrote about another one of Scullin’s studies a year ago. If you’d like some advice on how to fall asleep faster, click here.

How Do Children Explain Academic Success? (And: How Do We Know?)
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

If teachers want our students to succeed academically, we should understand how they explain academic success.

Typically, adults work with a two-variable formula: “effort + skill = performance.”

That is: If I’m good at singing, and I practice singing, then my recital will go well. But: if I’m just not much of a singer, or if I waste my talents by not practicing, the recital will be a dud.

In the short term, I have control over effort, but not over skill. (Over the long term, I can increase my skill by practicing.)

For several decades now, psychologists have thought that this theory develops over time. Young children — in this view — start with an even simpler theory: “effort = performance.”

If I work hard, I’ll succeed. If I don’t, I won’t.

Research Says So

The idea that children gradually develop the two-variable formula rests on several research findings. The most important uses a well-established research paradigm.

Children hear a story, and see accompanying pictures, of two students learning a topic. One spends the whole story working (“consistent effort”). The other works part of the time, but goofs off at other times (“inconsistent effort”).

Here’s the kicker: both students get a perfect score on the test!

Researchers ask the children, which student is smarter (that is, more skilled)?

According to the “effort + skill” theory, if a student gets a high score despite a low effort, he must be especially smart/skilled.

According to the “effort = performance” theory, the student who works harder is demonstrating greater skill.

And, sure enough, in the 1970s and 80s, researchers found that younger children tend to say that the consistent-effort student is smarter. Older children, with their “more mature” theory, say that the inconsistent-effort student is smarter.

In brief: children’s explanations of success develop over time.

Wait: Does Research Really Say So?

Two researchers — Melis Muradoglu and Andrei Cimpian — thought that they spotted a problem with this chain of logic.

What if the research paradigm that produced this answer was itself flawed? If the scale I’m using to measure my ingredients isn’t accurate, my recipes won’t come out right. If the test I’m using to understand children’s thought patterns isn’t well designed, my conclusions won’t come out right either.

Specifically, Muradoglu and Cimpian worried about the question that researchers asked children before they asked who was smarter. That question was: “which student worked harder?”

This question, Muradoglu and Cimpian feared, draws attention to the importance of effort, and might prompt children to misunderstand the following question about “being smart.”

So, they reran the experiment. Half the time, they did it the original way. The other half, they did it with a different question: “did the students think the task was difficult?” **

Sure enough, as they predicted, the children’s answer depended on the version of the research paradigm.

In the new version, children consistent said that the student who worked less and got a perfect score was smarter than the student who worked consistently and got a perfect score.

That is: even children as young as 5 have the 2-variable theory: “performance = effort + skill.”

Teaching Implications, Take 1

Regular readers know my mantra: “don’t just do this thing; instead, think this way.”

In this case, Muradoglu & Cimpian don’t suggest a particular teaching strategy.

Instead, their research lets us know that we can think with young learners about academic success as we do older learners. We can talk with them both about their effort and about their (current) skill level — and, they’ll understand both those concepts.

Each of us who teaches younger students will use that insight differently. But, we might well teach differently than if we had thought our learners thought only about effort and not about skill.

Teaching Implications, Take 2

If these researchers are right, then teachers have been getting bad advice on this topic for a few decades at least.

That realization might bring us to a cynical conclusion: “if psychologists keep getting things wrong, why should we listen to them at all?”

I understand the frustration. But I do think we should look below the surface for the good news.

Here’s an unfortunate truth: we all get things wrong. We just do.

Psychology as a discipline has lots of flaws. But — like other sciences — it has the advantage of being gradually self-correcting over time.

At its best, psychology encourages researchers to test and retest. It encourages new methods. It offers clear guidelines to measure improvement.

Yes, indeed, people can and do game this system. But, when it’s working well, it can produce remarkably helpful results.

In this case: we have good reasons to believe that even our young students will respond to two different kinds of encouragement.

In the short term, they can improve their effort.

In the longer term, that improved effort will improve their skill level.

Both improvements can help them achieve ultimate success — whatever the goal.


** Muradoglu and Cimpian had a second concern about the initial study, which they also tested. It’s a little hard to explain, so I’m omitting it from this post. If you’re curious, you can read about it on page 4 of the study.