Say you’re working on a complex task, and come to a step that is so complex itself, that you have to treat it like a project in its own right.
You’ve arrived at a problem within a problem, and to tackle it, you have to switch contexts: you have to put the current task on hold, while you solve the new problem.
You have to go down the rabbit hole.
Example: Say you’re a programmer working on a complex task and you discover that a piece of functionality that you need is not available. So, you need to solve a separate problem – write a separate piece of code – before you can proceed with the original task. You have to drop what you’re doing, and turn your attention to the new problem. Only after you’re done with the new task can you proceed with the original.
That’s pretty annoying, especially when it happens recursively – a problem within a problem within a problem.
Example: Say you need to make a quick trip to the grocery store for some milk, but find your car has a flat. You have to put the milk on the back burner while you focus on changing the tire. Then you discover that your spare is not properly inflated. So, now, while the car is still on the jack, you have to fetch a pump to fill up the spare. But, your friend has borrowed the pump, for his road trip, over the weekend.
With each new problem, not only you have to switch contexts, but also you have to lay out mental breadcrumbs, so that you can retrace your steps, back out of the hole.
That’s a lot of overhead.
And it’s aggravating,
thanks to our threat-response system.
Remember, we’re mapping new demands onto the same ancient circuitry of our ancestors. Our cognitive systems have evolved for movement, to help us find our way in the physical world. Coming up against roadblocks used to have life-and-death consequences. So, when our progress is checked, we react strongly – pain, annoyance, frustration, anger – as if preparing to run or fight.
And so it is with rabbit holes.
You have a task at hand; you’re moving towards a goal, even if the movement is purely conceptual. Your threat-response system is monitoring your progress and is quiet as long as you make adequate progress on that path. But when you come to a problem, when your progress is checked, you’re facing uncertainty, chaos, and delay. That’s when your threat-response system lights up like a Christmas tree.
It’s no accident that this coincides with context switching in working memory. When you switch contexts, you’re turning your attention away from the current goal. Often, that’s because your progress is checked.
But not all context switches are forced on us. And they don’t always elicit negative emotions, at least not right away.
Sometimes we do it because we like to do it,
and end up shooting ourselves in the foot.
