Executive Function Overload
Anxiety can be controlled by commitment. When a non-routine situation arises, the amygdalae release stress hormones that force Executive Function to focus 100 percent of its attention on the situation. Executive Function, in the orbitofrontal cortex, then does its ABCs. It assesses whether the non-routine situation is an opportunity, an irrelevance, or a threat. After building a plan of action—or inaction—Executive Function commits the plan to the subcortex for execution. This commitment signals the amygdalae, also part of the subcortex, to end the release of stress hormones. Once the previously released stress hormones dissipate, anxiety disappears.
Multitask Overload
It might seem ideal for your inner CEO to have no stress at all, but psychological research shows that with no stress hormones at all, Executive Function is dormant. A moderate amount of stress hormones is needed to activate Executive Function and to keep it operating. But if stress hormones rise above the optimal level, Executive Function slows down. If stress hormones become excessive, your inner CEO shuts down completely. When that happens, there is no mental capacity remaining that can limit arousal, and panic is often the result.
Executive Function does not multitask. When two non-routine situations arise simultaneously or in rapid succession, both demand Executive Function’s exclusive attention. Reflective function establishes priority, allowing Executive Function to focus its attention on one of the situations, build a plan, and make a commitment. Upon commitment to action or inaction, the amygdalae are signaled to discontinue stress hormone release about that situation; however, they may continue releasing stress hormones about the other non-routine situation that reflective function temporarily put on the back burner. Now Executive Function can focus on the other situation. After making a commitment about the second non-routine situation as well, Executive Function once again signals the amygdalae, and this time stress hormone release is halted altogether.
As you can see, multiple non-routine situations—whether real or imaginary—can present a problem. Reflective function is sensitive to stress hormones. If reflective function, weakened by stress hormones from multiple sources, is unable to prioritize, Executive Function cannot establish the necessary focus.
Good reflective function is like a CEO’s assistant who says, “You have a lot to do today, but don’t worry. I have it all spread out. At 9:00 a.m. you meet with Joe. At 10:00 a.m. you have a conference call. At 11:00 a.m. you meet with the accountant, and at noon you have lunch with Frank. At 2:00 p.m. you meet with Mary, at 3:00 p.m. with Edward, and at 4:00 p.m. with Judith.” The CEO can devote full attention to each meeting and deal with each effectively. But if all seven things happened at once, the CEO would be overwhelmed. Each of the situations would remain unresolved. Each would continue to cause stress hormone release.
A common situation that can cause multiple source overload is a vista that presents a multitude of things to see. That is why some people have trouble with high places. For example, if a person climbs up the stairs inside the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris and steps out onto the balcony, she suddenly—and perhaps unexpectedly—can see for miles. Thousands of structures are instantly presented to her mind. Strong reflective function can deal with this by establishing a priority. It allows the person to focus first on this, then that, and then the next thing. Like the CEO’s assistant, reflective function limits the scope of a person’s focus. It spreads things out, organizing them into an acceptable sequence over time. But a person with limited reflective function is like an executive with no assistant. Everything in view hits the person all at once; it’s overwhelming! Obviously this can cause a fear of heights.
Action movies are chock-full of non-routine situations. Indiana Jones encounters poison darts, an out-of-control truck, assassins, explosions, gunfire, and giant rolling boulders. He has great Executive Function; he handles everything the bad guys throw at him. If we willfully suspend disbelief, we let the movie trigger our amygdalae. We let the movie excite us. If we get too excited, we try to remind ourselves it isn’t real.
Though many life-threatening things can happen in the movies, we rarely encounter them in day-to-day living. Though you may imagine otherwise, life-threatening situations are rare when flying. The main complaint airline pilots have about their job is that it is boring.
You might find it boring, too, if it were possible for you to do all your flights in the cockpit. In the cockpit, reality constrains your imagination. If a noise triggers the release of stress hormones, your Executive Function is called on to do its ABCs. Assessment? One glance at the pilots would tell you that the noise you heard is routine to them. Build a plan? Simply stay put. Commit to that plan? Sure, why not?
It’s different in the passenger cabin. If a noise triggers stress hormones, your Executive Function is again called on to do its ABCs. Assessment? If you recognize the noise as the flaps being retracted, you know the noise is not a threat. Build a plan? Action isn’t needed. You decide to return to what you were doing. Committing to that, your amygdalae reset; stress hormones subside.
But what if you are unable to recognize the noise? Good Executive Function considers what is most probably the case. Since noises are usually routine, the unknown noise is probably routine. Assessing the situation as probably routine, good Executive Function returns to its original plan and recommits to doing what you were doing before hearing the noise.
But impaired Executive Function isn’t satisfied with probability. Instead of assessing the situation based on what is most likely, its assessment consists of imagining everything the noise could mean. As a passenger, only one plan is available: to remain on the plane. Before being able to comfortably commit to that plan, it must rule out each and every disaster the noise could mean—not just as improbable—but as impossible. This situation illustrates the double-bind nature of Executive function impairment. It demands—of itself—an impossible task. As it seeks to build a plan, it must imagine every possible disaster; as it considers commitment, it must be certain every imaginable disaster is impossible. Unable to commit, stress hormones build up. Executive Function becomes unable to override the Mobilization System. It has only one way to control stress hormones: escape. But with escape impossible, stress hormones continue to rise, and high anxiety or panic results.
Frozen Executive Function
When the amygdalae detect a non-routine situation, stress hormones force the mind to focus on it. The focus remains—producing additional hormones—until Executive Function builds a plan of action and commits to it. If stress hormones build to the point that anxiety fills the mind to capacity, no capacity exists to build a plan. With no plan, there is no commitment; with no commitment, there is no signal to end stress hormone release. When Amy’s finger is stuck on the intercom button, stress hormones keep pumping out.
Executive Function can freeze for other reasons. Research at Florida State University has shown that some of us have a hard time going from a decision to a commitment. Researcher Joyce Ehrlinger says some of us are “maximizers” and some are “satisficers.” (Note: Ehrlinger coined this term to suggest a high degree of probability suffices to satisfy the person when making a commitment.) Maximizers obsess over decisions big or small and then fret about their choices later. Satisficers, however, tend to make a decision and live by it. “Maximizers,” says Ehrlinger, “want to be certain they have made the right choice. High-level maximizers certainly cause themselves a lot of grief. Identifying the ‘right’ choice can become a never-ending task.”
For most maximizers, this need for a perfect solution can be set aside if pressured by circumstances. For example, a car barreling toward you can trump the need for a plan that can’t miss. But, in truly extreme cases of impairment, Executive Function can remain frozen—unable to do its ABCs—regardless of the circumstances. This is the deer-in-the-headlights phenomenon. To illustrate, a friend lived in a third-floor apartment that had no fire escape. Fire on a lower floor could block the stairway, leaving no escape other than her apartment window. Since jumping from the third floor would cause serious injury, I suggested that she install a chain ladder fire escape. One end of the chain ladder would be attached to the floor near a window. In case of a fire, the chain ladder would be tossed out the window so she could climb down the ladder to the ground below, thus escaping disaster.
She said a chain ladder wouldn’t work. She said even if there were a fire in her apartment, she would not be able to use the ladder because she would be so frightened, she was certain she wouldn’t be able to hold on. Images of falling from the ladder flooded her with terror. Unable to even imagine using the ladder, her Executive Function was paralyzed.
Since escaping from fire would require action, and being burned to death required no action, like a deer frozen in the headlights, she would be unable to take any action to escape the danger.
Good Executive Function is important. It assesses what goes on around us, builds plans that work for us, and commits to actions necessary to carry out our plans. To do its job, Executive Function needs protection. In an upcoming chapter, you will learn how to automatically protect Executive Function from stress hormone overload when flying.