Арсен Аветисов – Homo narrare. Narrative Intelligence 3.0: Managing Reality and Influencing People (страница 4)

In 1976, Francis Veber’s film The Toy, starring Pierre Richard, tells the story of a journalist who temporarily becomes the plaything of a media tycoon’s son. In one scene, Pierre Richard’s character invites the spoiled boy to play a game of running a newspaper. The child gets absorbed in the activity, but the journalist is taken aback when young Éric Rambal-Cochet confidently offers advice on headlines: «Instead of stating, „100 died in a US train crash,“ it should read, „100 French people killed in a horrific disaster.“ Dad says the French only care about French corpses.»

In today’s interpretation, it can be said that the boy implied that changing the emotional texture of the phrase can attract attention and elevate cortisol and oxytocin levels in readers.

The more often certain emotions are associated with certain images and phrases, the more stable this connection becomes.

The introduction of functional MRI (fMRI) technology revolutionized the study of brain activity. At Princeton University, neuroscientist Uri Hasson measured the brain activity of a woman as she told a deeply personal story. Her auditory cortex responded to her own voice, and her frontal and parietal lobes – the areas of the brain linked to emotions – were active as she processed her narrative. When others listened to her story, their brains showed similar activity, activating the same emotional areas at the same moments. Hasson concluded that the brain’s patterns, whether triggered by personal experiences, reading, or storytelling, blur the lines between experiencing events firsthand and hearing about them.

The concept of «limbic resonance» helps explain how mothers instinctively «sense» their children. This synchronization of the limbic systems – the brain’s emotional center – of a parent and child relies on nonverbal signals. These same signals are crucial in broader human interactions. The more people share stories, the more likely they are to experience this neural synchronization and emotional connection.

Humans often act based on stories, adopting the experiences of storytellers as if they were their own. For example, someone trying to defuse a fake bomb instinctively looks for red and blue wires, influenced by countless movie scenes. Similarly, when people see a moving light in the night sky, they may think of aliens, as this is the most common narrative about such events.

Raymond Mar studied brain activity during fiction reading and found that sensory and motor regions of the brain activated as if readers were living the events themselves. He concluded that the ability to immerse oneself in a story improves empathy and social understanding. Interestingly, people who read fiction regularly tend to have better social skills and stronger support networks than those who read nonfiction, who report higher stress levels. Mar suggested that the key difference lies in how stories are structured: narratives create stronger engagement than factual explanations.

In the end, presenting information as a story, drama, or another form of narrative becomes much more convincing when it deeply involves the audience. The more engaged people feel, the greater the effect on their understanding and beliefs. This process allows people to identify with the characters in a story, making fictional figures feel as real as close family members. The blurred line between fiction and reality takes on new meaning as scientists study how stories shape people’s views of the world.

Melanie Green and Timothy Brock found that stories can change beliefs by reducing awareness of real-world facts that contradict the story. Emotional narratives encourage people to identify with characters, making the story’s message more persuasive. Anneke de Graaf and Letty Hustinx showed that narratives with emotional tension and logical flow are more effective at aligning beliefs with the storyteller’s message. This highlights the importance of well-constructed storytelling.

Beyond the physiological and logical aspects of how people perceive information, stories also serve as powerful learning tools. Studies show that learning reshapes the brain’s structure, forming new connections through everyday experiences, education, and emotional stories. These changes emphasize how deeply storytelling influences the brain’s development.

Although there is still much to learn about the brain, what we do know shows how stories affect emotions, trust, beliefs, and actions. Just as food nourishes the body, well-structured and meaningful stories nourish the mind. If good food gives energy, helps growth, and brings satisfaction, what might we gain from compelling stories and thoughtful narratives?

Thinking, or the Narrative Fair

Do we think, or do we merely justify ourselves? Why is humanity always enslaved by the story it is told?

My son will be a lawyer like me, and I’m counting on his domain being a prosperous practice.

Pierre Verne, father of Jules Verne. His son became a great writer.

Modern knowledge already enables us to deliberately shape worldviews according to externally imposed meanings and externally pursued goals. We are both perfect and imperfect at the same time. The prevailing imperative of consuming in the here and now, characteristic of us all, already casts doubt on the existence of future generations. One thing can be stated with confidence: the majority of humanity, having managed to survive under dubious regimes and in a toxic environment, will inevitably be enslaved by the stories told to them, no matter the circumstances. And enslaved, dependent people always underestimate their own abilities and potential.

We do not notice changes because we live in a world of stereotypes – stereotypes of perceiving meaning. Our brain and body seize every opportunity to avoid activating consciousness because they do not intend to rely on it. All our lives, we try to train the mammal that we are – or at least explain and justify its behavior to ourselves. A person cannot be understood merely as what they do, say, or think. Behavior can be shaped by entirely different and hidden causes: actions by the instinct to impress or escape, words by the desire to dominate or defend, and thoughts by fear or love – or both at once. But a person is all these things together; they are all these narratives about admiration, submission, fear, and love. Or at least they seem so to us…

The expression «to be, not to seem» carries a paradoxical meaning. We are as we are, and our environment sees us as we are. At the same time, we seem to ourselves as we are, and then we become what we seemed to ourselves. What is fulfilled is what you strive for, not what you avoid. Movement «toward something» differs from movement «away from something.» It is like replacing forecasting with planning. We persistently follow the scripts of our meanings because meanings are what our brain creates to confirm the coherence and identity of our personality, as well as the consistency and causality of our actions. The brain is constantly focused on justifying our existence and deeds. Deep down, we always forgive ourselves our mistakes, viewing them as well-thought-out and wise schemes that simply did not work for various reasons.

But do we truly think? What do we mean by «thinking»? The term «thinking» emerged from an unsuccessful attempt to describe our mental activity. Even today, when we know incomparably more about the source and location of «thinking» than in past millennia, there is still no reliable picture of how we actually think.

There are some facts and assertions. For instance, thinking is influenced by associative memory and prevailing narratives. All our judgments, preferences, tastes, and decision-making systems are based on this memory. Even when we decide what is good or bad, right or wrong, beautiful or not, it is all determined not by our sight, smell, or hearing but by memory and the stories tied to these evaluations that we tell ourselves.

According to the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, language determines our thinking. The work of artificial intelligence operates similarly – a system of words, corresponding images, speech constructs, and associated concepts. It is an imitation of mental activity, a game with connections to the real world.

Most children raised in contemporary culture cannot adequately describe the processes happening around them because their vocabulary no longer matches their growing, diversifying experience. To some extent, both language and its established codifications are to blame for our simplified perception of the environment and superficial thinking. With the current pace of development, we need more words to formulate problems. However, the vocabulary used to describe them is catastrophically shrinking, even as new terms accompanying progress emerge.

Every day, we make hundreds of choices and provide hundreds of answers to questions humanity faces. Yet we lack both the time and understanding of the essence of these problems. People involve artificial intelligence, transferring responsibility to machine code. But they forget that in any case, the conclusion to their decisions, choices, answers, and intricate life narratives will ultimately be a stone bearing two dates: the date of entry and the date of exit from the tiresome necessity of choosing. It is worth remembering that after the exit date, there is not only no choice but, strictly speaking, nothing at all. However, there is nothing only for the individual, not for the artificial systems they created to simulate thinking. Where and how does the boundary of trust in such decision-making programs lie – programs indifferent to the lives of specific men and women and bearing no responsibility for them?