Psychology

Chapter 32

Chapter 328,091 wordsPublic domain

ATTENTION

HOW WE ATTEND, TO WHAT, AND WITH WHAT RESULTS

"Attention!" shouts the officer as a preliminary to some more specific command, and the athletic starter calls out "Ready!" for the same purpose. Both commands are designed to put the hearer in an attitude of readiness for what is coming next. They put a stop to miscellaneous doings and clear the way for the specific reaction that is next to be called for. They nullify the effect of miscellaneous stimuli that are always competing for the hearer's attention, and make him responsive only to stimuli coming from the officer. They make the hearer clearly conscious of the officer. They arouse in the hearer a condition of keen alertness that cannot be maintained for more than a few seconds unless some further command comes from the officer. In all these ways "attention" in the military sense, or "readiness" in the athletic sense, affords a good picture of the psychology of attention. Attention is preparatory, selective, mobile, highly conscious. To attend to a thing is to be keenly conscious of that thing, it is to respond to that thing and disregard other things, and it is to expect something more from that thing.

Attention is, in a word, exploratory. To attend is to explore, or to start to explore. Primitive attention amounts to the same as the instinct of exploration. Its natural stimulus is anything novel or sudden, its "emotional state" is curiosity or expectancy, and its instinctive reaction consists {245} of exploratory movements. Its inherent impulse is to explore, examine, or await.

Attention belongs fundamentally among the native forms of behavior. The child does not have to learn to attend, though he must learn to attend to many things that do not naturally get his attention. Some stimuli naturally attract attention, and others attract attention only because of previous experience and training. In considering the whole subject of attention, then, we shall in part be dealing with native responses, and in part with responses that are acquired. But the great laws of attention, which will come to light in the course of the chapter, are at the same time general laws of reaction, and belong under the head of native characteristics.

The Stimulus, or What Attracts Attention

We can attend to anything whatever, but are more likely to attend to some things than to others. As stimuli for attention, some objects are much more effective than others, and the question is, in what way one object has the advantage over another. There are several ways, several "factors of advantage", we may call them.

_Change_ is the greatest factor of advantage. A steady noise ceases after a while to be noticed, but let it change in any respect and immediately it arrests attention. The ticking of the clock is a good example: as long as it keeps uniformly on, it is unnoticed, but if it should suddenly beat faster or louder or in a different key, or even if it should stop altogether, it would "wake us up" with a start. The change in the stimulus must not be too gradual if it is to be effective, it must have a certain degree of suddenness. It may be a change in intensity, a becoming suddenly stronger or weaker; or it may be change in quality, as in tone, or {246} color, or odor; or it may be a change in position, a movement in space. When one who is holding our arm gives it a sudden squeeze to attract our attention, that is a change of intensity; when we step from the bank into the water, the sudden change from warmth to cold, that gets our attention without fail, is a change of quality; and something crawling on the skin attracts attention by virtue of its motion. Anything moving in the field of view is also an unfailing stimulus to attention.

_Strength_, or high intensity of a stimulus, is another important factor of advantage. Other things being equal, a strong stimulus will attract attention before a weak one. A loud noise has the advantage over a low murmur, and a bright flash of light over a faint twinkle.

In the case of visible objects, size has about the same effect as intensity. The large features of the landscape are noticed before the little details. The advertiser uses large type, and pays for big space in the newspaper, in the effort to attract the attention of the reader.

[Footnote: Often he pays more than the space is worth; at least doubling the size of his "ad" will not, on the whole, double the amount of attention he gets, or the number of readers whose attention he will catch. The "attention value" of an advertisement has been found by Strong to increase, not as fast as the increase in space, but about as the square root of the space occupied.]

Another similar factor is _repetition_. Cover a billboard with several copies of the same picture, and it attracts more attention than a single one of the pictures would. Repeat a "motive" in the decoration of a building, and it is more likely to be noticed. Repeat a cry or call several times, and after a while it may be noticed, though not at first. The "summation of stimuli" has much the same effect as increasing the intensity of a single stimulus.

If, however, a stimulus is repeated or continued for a long time, it will probably cease to hold attention, because of its {247} monotony, or, in other words, because it lacks the element of change.

_Striking quality_ is an advantage, quite apart from the matter of intensity. Saturated colors, though no stronger in intensity of light than pale colors, are stronger stimuli for attention. High notes are more striking than low. Itch, tickle and pain get attention in preference to smooth touch. "Striking" cannot be defined in physical terms, but simply refers to the fact that some kinds of stimulus get attention better than others.

_Definite form_ has the advantage over what is vague. A small, sharply defined object, that stands out from its background, attracts the eye more than a broad, indefinite expanse of light such as the sky. In the realm of sound, "form" is represented by rhythm or tune, and by other definite sequences of sound, such as occur in the jingles that catch the little child's ear.

The factors of advantage so far mentioned are native, and a stimulus possessing one or more of them is a natural attention-stimulus. But the individual also learns what is worth noticing, and what is not, and thus forms _habits of attention_, as well as habits of inattention. The automobile driver forms the habit of attending to the sound of his motor, the botanist forms the habit of noticing such inconspicuous objects as the lichens on the tree trunks. On the other hand, any one forms the habit of not noticing repeated stimuli that have no importance for him. Move into a house next the railroad, and at first you notice every train that passes; even at night you awake with a start, dreaming that some monster is pursuing you; but after a few days the trains disturb you very little, night or day. The general rule covering attention habits is this: anything that you have to work with, or like to play with, acquires the power to attract your attention, while anything that you do nothing {248} with loses whatever hold on your attention it may have possessed by virtue of its intensity, quality, etc.

Besides these permanent habits of attention, there are temporary adjustments determined by the _momentary interest_ or desire. Stimuli relevant to the momentary interest have an unwonted hold upon attention, while things out of line with this interest may escape attention altogether, even though the same things would ordinarily be noticed. What you shall notice in the store window is governed by what you are looking for as much as by the prominence of the object in the total display. When you are angry with a person, you notice bad points about him that you usually overlook, and any aroused desire adjusts or "sets" attention in a similar way. The desire or interest of the moment _facilitates_ attention to certain stimuli and _inhibits_ attention to others, and is thus an important factor of advantage.

The interest of the moment is often represented by a question. Ask yourself what spots of red there are in the field of view, and immediately various red spots jump out and strike the eye; ask yourself what pressure sensations you are getting from the skin, and immediately several obtrude themselves. A question sets attention towards whatever may furnish an answer.

To sum up, we may say that three general factors of advantage determine the power of any stimulus to attract attention. There is the native factor, consisting of change, intensity, striking quality, and definite form; there is the factor of habit, dependent on past experience; and there is the factor of present interest and desire.

The Motor Reaction in Attention

Attention is obviously a reaction of the individual to the stimulus that gets his attention; and it is in part a motor {249} reaction. The movements that occur in attending to an object are such as to afford a better view of it, or a better hearing of it, or, in general, such as to bring the sense organs to bear on it as efficiently as possible.

We may distinguish two sorts of motor reaction that occur in attention: the general attentive attitude, and the special adjustments of the sense organs. An audience absorbed in a speech or musical performance gives a good picture of the general _attentive attitude_. You notice that most people look fixedly towards the speaker, as if listening with their eyes, and that many of them lean forward as if it were important to get just as close as possible. All the little restless movements cease, so that you could "hear a pin drop", and at the tensest moments even the breath is checked. The attitude of attention is one of tense immobility, with the whole body oriented towards the object of attention. When the object of attention is something not present but thought of, a somewhat similar rigid attitude is assumed; the body is apt to lean forward, the neck to be held stiff, and the eyes to "stare at vacancy", i.e., to be fixed on some convenient object as a mere resting place, while attention is fixed outside the visual field altogether.

But we spoke of attention as mobile, and it would be strange if its mobility did not show itself in the motor reaction. It does in fact show itself in the _sense organ adjustments_ which amount to exploratory reactions. Attention to an object in the hand is shown by "feeling of it", to a substance in the mouth by tasting movements, to an odor by sniffing movements, to a sound by cocking the head and turning the eyes towards the source of sound. The most instructive of this type of attention-reactions are those of the eyes. The eye is focused on the object that arouses attention, the lens being accommodated for its distance by the action of the little ciliary muscle inside the {250} eyeball; the two eyes are converged upon the object, so that the light from it strikes the fovea or best part of each retina; and the eyes are also turned up, down or sidewise, so as, again, to receive the light from the object upon the fovea.

This last class of eye movements is specially instructive and shows specially well the mobility of attention. Let a bright or moving object appear somewhere in the field of view--immediately the eyes turn towards it with a quick jump, fixate it for a few seconds and then jump elsewhere unless the object is found to be specially significant. Watch the eyes of one who is looking at a picture or scene of any sort, and you will see his eyes jumping hither and thither, as his attention shifts from one part of the scene to another. Ask him to abstain from this jumpy movement and let his eyes "sweep over" the scene, and he will confidently try to follow your instructions, but if you watch his eyes you will find them still jumping. In fact, "sweeping the glance" is a myth. It cannot be done. At least, there is only one case in which it can be done, and that is when there is a moving object to look at. Given an object moving at a moderate speed across the field of view, and the eyes can follow it and keep pace with it pretty accurately. But without the moving object as stimulus, the eyes can only execute the jump movement. There are thus two types of exploratory eye movement: the "jump" in passing from one object to another, and the "pursuit movement" in examining a moving object.

In reading, the eye moves by a series of short jumps from left to right along the first line of print, makes a long jump back to the beginning of the second line and another series of short jumps along that line, and so on. To appreciate the value of this jerky movement, we need to understand that each short jump occupies but a thirtieth to a fiftieth {251} of a second, while the "fixation pauses" between jumps last much longer, with the result that over ninety per cent. of the time spent on a line of print is fixation time, and less than ten per cent, is occupied in jumping from one fixation to the next. Now, it has been found that nothing of any consequence is seen during the eye jumps, and that the real seeing takes place only during the fixations. The jump movement, therefore, is simply a means of passing from one fixation to another with the least possible loss of time.

The eye sees an object distinctly only when at rest with respect to the object. If the object is still, the eye must be still to see it distinctly, and to see its different parts must fixate one after the other, jumping from one part to another. But if the object is in motion, the eye may still be able to see it distinctly by means of the pursuit movement, which is a sort of moving fixation.

The Shifting of Attention

Eye movement affords a good picture of the mobility of attention. Ordinarily the eye shifts frequently from one part of the field of view to another. When simply exploring a scene, it shifts about in what seems an indiscriminate way, though really following the principle of deserting each object as soon as it has been examined, and jumping to that other object which next has the advantage on account of movement, brightness, color, definite form, or habit of attention. In reading, however, the eye is governed by a definite interest, and moves consecutively along the series of words, instead of shifting irregularly about the page.

A moving object, or an object that is doing something, or even a complex object that presents a number of parts to be examined in turn, can hold the eye for some time. But it is almost impossible to hold the eye fixed for any length of time on a simple, motionless, unchanging object.

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Attention is mobile because it is exploratory; it continually seeks something fresh for examination. In the presence of a complex of sights and sounds and touch stimuli, it tends to shift every second or two from one part of the situation to another. Even if you are lying in bed with your eyes closed, the movement of attention still appears in the rapid succession of thoughts and images, and some shift usually occurs as often as once a second.

A few simple experiments will serve to throw the shifting of attention into clearer relief. Look fixedly at a single letter written on a blank sheet of paper, and notice how one part after another of the letter stands out; notice also that attention does not stick absolutely to the letter, since thoughts obtrude themselves at intervals.

Or, make a "dot figure", composed of six or eight or more dots arranged either regularly or irregularly, and look steadily at the collection. Probably you will find that the dots seem to fall into figures and groups, and that the grouping changes frequently. Objectively, of course, the dots are grouped in one way as much as another, so that any particular grouping is your own doing. The objective stimulus, in other words, is capable of arousing several grouping reactions on your part, and does arouse different reactions one after another

Shifting also appears in looking at an {253} "ambiguous figure", drawn so as to represent equally well a solid object in either of two different positions. The transparent cube, showing near and far edges alike, is a good example. Look steadily at such a drawing, and the cube will appear to shift its position from time to time. Numerous such figures can be constructed; the most celebrated is the ambiguous staircase. Look steadily at it, and suddenly you see the under side of a flight of stairs, instead of the upper; and if you keep on looking steadily, it shifts back and forth between these two positions.

A still more striking case of shifting goes by the name of "binocular rivalry", and occurs when colors or figures that we cannot combine into a single picture are presented, {254} one to one eye, and the other to the corresponding part of the other retina. Hold red glass close in front of one eye and blue before the other, and look through both at once towards a bright background, and you will see red part of the time and blue part of the time, the two alternating as in the case of ambiguous figures.

The stereoscope is a great convenience in applying inconsistent stimuli to the two eyes, and by aid of this instrument a great variety of experiments can be made. It is thus found that, if the field before one eye is a plain color, while the other, of a different color, has any little figure on it, this figure has a great advantage over the rival plain color and stays in sight most of the time. Anything moving in one field has a similar advantage, and a bright field has the advantage over a darker one. Thus the same factors of advantage hold good in binocular rivalry as in native attention generally.

A different kind of shifting appears in what is called "fluctuation of attention". Make a light gray smudge on a white sheet of paper, and place this at such a distance that the gray will be barely distinguishable from the white {255} background. Looking steadily at the smudge, you will find it to disappear and reappear periodically. Or, place your watch at such a distance that its ticking is barely audible, and you will find the sound to go out and come back at intervals. The fluctuation probably represents periodic fatigue and recovery at the brain synapses concerned in observing the faint stimulus.

Shiftings of the fluctuation type, or of the rivalry type either, are not to be regarded as quite the same sort of thing as the ordinary shiftings of attention. The more typical movement of attention is illustrated by the eye movements in examining a scene, or by the sequence of ideas and images in thinking or dreaming. Rivalry and fluctuation differ from this typical shifting of attention in several ways:

(1) The typical movement of attention is quicker than the oscillation in rivalry or fluctuation. In rivalry, each appearance may last for many seconds before giving way to the other, whereas the more typical shift of attention occurs every second or so. In fact, during a rivalry or fluctuation experiment, you may observe thoughts coming and going at the same time, and at a more rapid rate than the changes in the object looked at. Attention does not really hold steady during the whole time that a single appearance of an ambiguous figure persists.

(2) Rivalry shifts are influenced very little, if at all, by the factor of momentary desire or interest, and are very little subject to control.

(3) In rivalry, the color that disappears goes out entirely, and in looking at a dot figure or ambiguous figure you get the same effect, since the grouping or appearance that gives way to another vanishes itself for the time being. But when, in exploring a scene with the eyes, you turn from one object to another, the object left behind simply retires to the background, without disappearing altogether; and, {256} in the same way, when attention shifts from one noise to another, the first noise does not lapse altogether but remains vaguely heard. Or when, in thinking of a number of people, one after another comes to mind, the first one does not go out of mind altogether when attention moves to the next, but remains still vaguely present for a few moments.

Laws of Attention and Laws of Reaction in General

Shifting occurs also in reflex action. Let two stimuli be acting at once, the one calling for one reflex and the other for the opposed reflex (as flexion and extension of the same limb), and the result is that only one of these reactions will occur at the same time, the other being completely inhibited; but the inhibited reflex gets its turn shortly, provided the two stimuli continue to act, and, in fact, the two reactions may alternate in a way that reminds us of binocular rivalry or ambiguous figures. Three fundamental laws of reaction here come to light.

(1) The _law of selection_: of two or more inconsistent responses to the same situation (or complex of stimuli), only one is made at the same time.

(2) The _law of advantage_: one of the alternative responses has an initial advantage over the others, due to such factors as intensity and change in the stimulus, or to habits of reaction.

(3) The _law of shifting_: the response that has the initial advantage loses its advantage shortly, and an alternative response is made, provided the situation remains the same.

These three laws hold good of reactions at all levels, from reflex action to rational thinking.

The mobility of attention obeys these same laws; only, attention is livelier and freer in its movements than reflex action or than the shifting in rivalry. Attention is more mobile and less bound to rigid rules.

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Sustained Attention

The mobility of attention is only half the story. When we speak, for instance, of a student as having good powers of attention, we are not thinking of mobility but rather of the opposite.

Eye movement, which we employed before as a picture of the movement of attention, affords also a picture of sustained attention. Remember how the eye moves in reading. Every second it shifts, but still it keeps to the line of print. Just so, attention keeps moving forward in the story we are reading, but sticks to the story. The more absorbed we are in the story, the more rapidly we read. Attention is sustained here, and still it moves. Sustained attention is not glued to one point, by any means, but is simply confined to a given object or theme, within which its motion may be as lively as ever.

What is it, then, that sustains attention? Evidently it is the factor of present desire or interest, already mentioned. It is a reaction-tendency, aroused to activity by some stimulus or other, unable to reach its goal instantly, but persisting in activity for a while and facilitating responses that are in its line, while inhibiting others. Such a tendency facilitates response, i.e., attention, to certain stimuli, and inhibits attention to others, thus causing them to be overlooked and neglected.

For the student, the ideal attention-sustainer is an interest in the matter presented. If, however, he cannot get up any absorbing interest in the subject-matter at once, he may generate the necessary motive force by taking the lesson as a "stunt", as something to be mastered, a spur to his self-assertion. In the old days, fear was often the motive force relied upon in the schoolroom, and the switch hanging {258} behind the efficient teacher's desk was the stimulus to sustained attention. There must be _some_ tendency aroused if attention is to be sustained. The mastery impulse is certainly superior to fear for the purpose, but better than either is a genuine interest in the subject studied.

In order to get up a genuine interest in a subject--an objective or inherent interest--it is usually necessary to penetrate into the subject for some little distance. The subject may not appeal to any of our native impulses, or to any interest that has been previously acquired, and how then are we to hold attention to it long enough to discover its inherent interest? Curiosity will give us a start, but is too easily satisfied to carry us far. Fear of punishment or disapproval, hope of reward or praise, being put on our mettle, or realizing the necessity of this subject for our future success, may keep us going till we find the subject attractive in itself.

So, when the little child is learning to read, the printed characters have so little attractiveness in themselves that he naturally turns away from them after a brief exploration. But, because he is scolded when his mind wanders from those marks, because other children make fun of his blunders, because, when he reads correctly, he feels the glow of success and of applause, he does hold himself to the printed page till he is able to read a little, after which his interest in what he is reading is sufficient, without extraneous motives, to keep his nose between the covers of the story book more, perhaps, than is good for him. The little child, here, is the type of the successful student.

Attention to a subject thus passes through three stages in its development. First comes the instinctive exploratory sort of attention, favored by the native factors of advantage. Next comes the stage of forced attention, driven by {259} extraneous motives, such as fear or self-assertion. Finally arrives the stage of objective interest. In the first and last stages attention is spontaneous, in the middle stage forced. The middle stage is often called that of voluntary attention, since effort has to be exerted to sustain attention, while the first and last stages, being free from effort, may be called involuntary.

Distraction

Distraction is an important topic for consideration in connection with sustained attention. A distraction is a stimulus that attracts attention away from the thing to which we mean to attend. There are always competing stimuli, and the various factors of advantage, especially desire or interest, determine which stimulus shall get attention at any moment.

In the excited insane condition known as "mania" or the "manic state", the patient is excessively distractible. He commences to tell you something, all interest in what he has to say, but, if you pull out your watch while he is talking, he drops his story in the middle of a sentence and shifts to some remark about the watch. He seems to have no impulse persistent enough to hold his thoughts steady. There are contrary insane conditions in which it is almost impossible to distract the patient from his own inner broodings, so much is he absorbed in his own troubles.

Distraction is a favorite topic for experiment in the laboratory. The subject is put to work adding or typewriting, and works for a time in quiet, after which disturbances are introduced. A bell rings, a phonograph record is played, perhaps a perfect bedlam of noise is let loose; with the curious result that the subject, only momentarily distracted, accomplishes more work rather than less. The distraction has acted as a stimulus to greater effort, and by this effort {260} is overcame. This does not always happen so in real life, but it shows the possibilities of sustained attention.

There are several ways of overcoming a distraction. First, greater energy may be thrown into the task one is trying to perform. The extra effort is apt to show itself in gritting the teeth, reading or speaking aloud, and similar muscular activity which, while entirely unnecessary for executing the task in hand, helps by keeping the main stream of energy directed into the task instead of toward the distracting stimuli. Effort is necessary when the main task is uninteresting, or when the distraction is specially attractive, or even when the distraction is something new and strange and likely to arouse curiosity. But one may grow accustomed or "adapted" to an oft-recurring distraction, so as to sidetrack it without effort; in other words, a habit of inattention to the distracting stimulus may be formed. There is another, quite different way of overcoming a distraction, which works very well where it can be employed, and that is to couple the distraction to the main task, so as to deal with both together. An example is seen in piano playing. The beginner at the piano likes to play with the right band alone, because striking a note with the left hand distracts him from striking the proper note with the right. But, after practice, he couples the two hands, strikes the bass note of a chord with the left hand while his right strikes the other notes of the same chord, and much prefers two-handed to one-handed playing. In short, to overcome a distraction, you either sidetrack it or else couple it to your main task.

Doing Two Things at Once

The subject of distraction brings to mind the question that is often asked, "Can any one do two things at once?" In this form, the question admits of but one answer, for we {261} are always doing at least two things at once, provided we are doing anything else besides breathing. We have no trouble in breathing and walking at the same time, nor in seeing while breathing and walking, nor even in thinking at the same time. But breathing, walking, and seeing are so automatic as to require no attention. The more important question then, is whether we can do two things at once, when each demands careful attention.

The redoubtable Julius Caesar, of happy memory, is said to have been able to dictate at once to several copyists. Now, Caesar's copyists were not stenographers, but wrote in long-hand, so that he could speak much faster than they could write. What he did, accordingly, was undoubtedly to give the first copyist a start on the first letter he wished to send, then turn to the second and give him a start on the second letter, and so on, getting back to the first in time to keep him busy. Quite an intellectual feat, certainly! But not a feat requiring absolutely simultaneous attention to several different matters. In a small way, any one can do something of the same kind. It is not impossible to add columns of numbers while reciting a familiar poem; you get the poem started and then let it run on automatically for a few words while you add a few numbers, switch back to the poem and then back to the adding, and so on. But in all this there is no doing of two things, attentively, at the same instant of time.

You may be able, however, to combine two acts into a single coördinated act, in the way just described under the head of distraction, and give undivided attention to this compound act.

The Span of Attention

Similar to the question whether we can attentively perform more than a single act at a time is the question of {262} how many different objects we can attend to at once. The "span of attention" for objects of any given kind is measured by discovering how many such objects can be clearly seen, or heard, or felt, in a single instant of time. Measurement of this "span" is one of the oldest experiments in psychology. Place a number of marbles in a little box, take a single peek into the box and see if you know how many marbles are there. Four or five you can get in a single glance, but with more there you become uncertain.

In the laboratory we have "exposure apparatus" for displaying a card for a fifth of a second or less, just enough time for a single glance. Make a number of dots or strokes on the card and see whether the subject knows the number on sight. He can tell four or five, and beyond that makes many mistakes.

Expose letters not making any word and he can read about four at a glance. But if the letters make familiar words, he can read three or four words at a glance. If the words make a familiar phrase, he gets a phrase of several words, containing as many as twenty letters, at a single glance.

Expose a number of little squares of different colors, and a well-trained subject will report correctly as many as five colors, though he cannot reach this number every time.

Summary of the Laws of Attention

Bringing together now what we have learned regarding the higher and more difficult forms of attention, as revealed by sustained attention and work under distraction, by the span of attention and by trying to do two things at once, we find the previously stated three laws of attention further illustrated, and a couple of new laws making their appearance.

(1) The _law of selection_ still holds good in these more {263} difficult performances, since only one attentive response is made at the same instant of time. Automatic activities may be simultaneously going on, but any two attentive responses seem to be inconsistent with each other, so that the making of one excludes the other, in accordance with the general law of selection.

What shall we say, however, of reading four disconnected letters at the same time, or of seeing clearly four colors at the same time? Here, it would seem, several things are separately attended to at once. The several things are similar, and close together, and the responses required are all simple and much alike. Such responses, under such very favorable conditions, are perhaps, then, not inconsistent with each other, so that two, three, or even four such attentive responses may be made at the same time.

(2) The _law of advantage_ holds good, as illustrated by the fact that some distractions are harder to resist than others.

(3) The _law of shifting_ holds good, as illustrated by the constant movement of attention, even when it is "sustained", and by the alternation between two activities when we are trying to carry them both along simultaneously.

(4) The _law of sustained attention_, or of _tendency_ in attention, is the same old law of tendency that has shown itself repeatedly in earlier chapters. A tendency, when aroused to activity, facilitates responses that are in its line and inhibits others. A tendency is thus a strong factor of advantage, and it limits the shifting of attention.

(5) A new law has come to light, the _law of combination_, which reads as follows: _a single response may be made to two or more stimuli_; or, _two or more stimuli may arouse a single joint response_.

Even though, in accordance with the law of selection, only one attentive response is made at the same time, more than {264} one stimulus may be dealt with by this single attentive response. Groups of four dots are grasped as units, familiar words are grasped as units. Notice that these units are our own units, not external units. Physically, a row of six dots is as much a unit as a row of four, but we grasp the four as a unit in a way that we cannot apply to the six. Physically, six letters are as much a unit when they do not form a word as when they do; but we can make a unitary response to the six in the one case and not in the other. The response is a unit, though aroused by a number of separate stimuli.

The law of combination, from its name, is open to a possible misconception, as if we reached out and grasped and combined the stimuli, whereas ordinarily we do nothing to the stimuli, except to see them and recognize them, or in some such way respond to them. The combination is something that happens _in us_; it is our response. If the expression were not so cumbersome, we might more accurately name this law that of "unitary response to a plurality of stimuli".

Sometimes, indeed, we do make an actual motor response to two or more stimuli, as when we strike a chord of several notes on the piano. The law of combination still holds good here, since the movements of the two hands are coördinated into a single act, which is thought of as a unit ("striking a chord"), attended to as a unit, and executed as a unit. Such coördinated movements may be called "higher motor units", and we shall find much to say regarding them when we come to the subject of learned reactions. The law of combination, all in all, will be found later to have extreme importance in learned reactions.

Passing now to another side of the study of attention, we shall immediately come across a sixth law to add to our list.

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Attention and Degree of Consciousness

Up to this point, the introspective side of the psychology of attention has not been considered. One of the surest of all introspective observations belongs right here, to the effect that we are more conscious of that to which we are attending than of anything else. Of two stimuli acting at once upon us, we are the more conscious of that one which catches our attention; of two acts that we perform simultaneously, that one is more conscious that is performed attentively.

We need not be entirely unconscious of the act or the stimulus to which we are not attending. We may be dimly conscious of it. There are degrees of consciousness. Suppose, for example, you are looking out of the window while "lost in thought". You are most conscious of the matter of your thoughts, but conscious to a degree of what you see out of the window. Your eyes are focused on some particular object outside, and you are more conscious of this than of other objects seen in indirect vision, though even of these last you are not altogether unconscious. Consciousness shades off from high light to dim background.

The "field of attention" is the maximum or high light of consciousness; it comprises the object under attentive observation, the reaction attentively performed. The "field of consciousness" includes the field of attention and much besides. It includes objects of which we are vaguely aware, desires active but not clearly formulated, feelings of pleasantness or unpleasantness, of tension, excitement, confidence, etc.

Apparently the field of consciousness shades off gradually into the field of unconscious activity. Some physiological processes go on unconsciously, and very habitual movements may be almost or entirely unconscious. The boundary {266} between what is vaguely conscious and what is entirely unconscious is necessarily very vague itself, but the probability is that the field of consciousness is broader than we usually suspect, and that many activities that we ordinarily think of as unconscious, because we do not observe them at the time nor remember them later, lie really near the margin of the field of consciousness, but inside that field. "Unconscious motives", such as spite or pride often seem to be, are probably vaguely conscious rather than unconscious. We shall return to the fascinating topic of the unconscious at the close of the book.

Degree of consciousness does not always tally with intensity of sensation or energy of muscular action. You may be more conscious of a slight but significant sound than of much louder noises occurring at the same time. You may be more conscious of a delicate finger movement than of a strong contraction of big muscles occurring at the same time. Degree of consciousness goes with degree of mental activity. Of all the reactions we are making at the same time--and usually there are several--the most active in a mental way is the most conscious. The slight sound arouses intense mental response because it means something of importance--like the faint cry of the baby upstairs, noticed instead of the loud noises of the street. The delicate finger movement aims at some difficult result, while the big muscles may be doing their accustomed work automatically.

It is not always the most efficient mental process that is most conscious; indeed, practising an act makes it both more efficient and less conscious. It is, rather, the less efficient processes that require attention, because they require mental work to keep them going straight.

Our sixth law of attention, emerging from this introspective study, is naturally of a different style from the remainder of the list, which were objectively observed; yet it {267} is no less certain and perhaps no less significant. It may be called:

(6) The _law of degrees of consciousness_, and thus stated: _An attentive response is conscious to a higher degree than any inattentive response made at the same time_. An inattentive response may be dimly conscious or, perhaps, altogether unconscious. The less familiar the response, and the higher it stands in the scale of mental performances, the more attentive it is, and the more conscious.

The Management of Attention

Attentive observation is more trustworthy than inattentive, and also gives more facts. Attentive movement is more accurate than inattentive, and may be quicker as well. Attentive study gives quicker learning than inattentive, and at the same time fixes the facts more durably.

Shall we say, then, "Do everything attentively"? But that is impossible. We sense so many stimuli at once that we could not possibly attend to all of them. We do several things at once, and cannot give attention to them all. A skilful performance consists of many parts, and we cannot possibly give careful attention to all the parts. Attention is necessarily selective, and the best advice is, not simply to "be attentive", but to attend to the right things.

In observation, the best plan is obviously to decide beforehand exactly what needs to be observed, and then to focus attention on this precise point. That is the principle underlying the remarkably sure and keen observation of the scientist. Reading may be called a kind of observation, since the reader is looking for what the author has to tell; and the rule that holds for other observation holds also for reading. That is to say that the reader finds the most when he knows just what he is looking for. We can learn {268} something here from story-reading, which is the most efficient sort of reading, in the sense that you get the point of the story better than that of more serious reading matter, the reason being that attention is always pressing forward in the story, looking for something very definite. You want to know how the hero gets out of the fix he is in, and you press forward and find out with great certainty and little loss of time. The best readers of serious matter have a similar eagerness to discover what the author has to say; they get the author's question, and press on to find his answer. Such readers are both quick and retentive. The dawdling reader, who simply spends so much time and covers so many pages, in the vague hope that something will stick, does not remember the point because he never got the point, and never got it because he wasn't looking for it.

In skilled movement, or skilled action of any sort, the best rule is to fix attention on the end-result or, if the process is long, on the result that immediately needs to be accomplished. "Keep your eye on the ball" when the end just now to be achieved is hitting the ball. Attention to the details of the process, though necessary in learning a skilled movement, is distracting and confusing after skill has been acquired. The runner does not attend to his legs, but to the goal or, if that is still distant, to the runner just ahead of him.

Theory of Attention

The chief facts to take account of in attempting to form a conception of the brain action in attention are mobility, persistence in spite of mobility, and focusing.

The mobility of attention must mean that brain activities are in constant flux, with nerve currents continually shooting hither and thither and arousing ever fresh groups of neurones; but sustained attention means that a brain {269} activity (representing the desire or interest or reaction-tendency dominant at the time) may persist and limit the range of the mobile activities, by facilitating some of these and inhibiting others.

The "focusing" of mental activity is more difficult to translate into neural terms. The fact to be translated is that, while several mental activities may go on at once, only one occupies the focus of attention. This must mean that, while several brain activities go on at once, one is superior in some way to the rest. The superiority might lie in greater intensity of neurone action, or in greater extent; that is, one brain activity is bigger in some way than any other occurring at the same time--bigger either because the neurones in it are working more energetically or because it includes a larger number of active neurones.

But why should not two equally big brain activities sometimes occur at the same moment, and attention thus be divided? The only promising hypothesis that has been offered to explain the absence of divided attention is that of "neurone drainage", according to which one or the other of two neurone groups, simultaneously aroused to activity, drains off the energy from the other, so putting a quietus on it. Unfortunately, this hypothesis explains too much, for it would make it impossible for minor brain activities to go on at the same time as the major one, and that would mean that only one thing could be done at a time, and that the field of consciousness was no broader than the field of attention. On the whole, we must admit that we do not know exactly what the focusing of attention can mean in brain terms.

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EXERCISES

1. Outline the chapter, in the form of a number of "laws", putting under each law the chief facts that belong there.

2. See if you can verify, by watching another person's eyes, the statements made on page 250 regarding eye movements.

3. Choose a spot where there is a good deal going on, stay there for five minutes and jot down the things that attract your attention. Classify the stimuli under the several "factors of advantage".

4. Mention some stimulus to which you have a habit of attention, and one to which you have a habit of inattention.

5. Close the eyes, and direct attention to the field of cutaneous and kinesthetic sensations. Do sensations emerge of which you are ordinarily only dimly conscious? Does shifting occur?

6. Of the several factors of advantage, which would be most effective in catching another person's attention, and which in holding his attention?

7. How does attention, in a blind person, probably differ from that of a seeing person?

8. Doing two things at once. Prepare several columns of one-place numbers, ten digits in a column. Try to add these columns, at the same time reciting a familiar poem, and notice how you manage it, and how accurate your work is.

9. Consider what would be the best way to secure sustained attention to some sort of work from which your mind is apt to wander.

REFERENCES

Walter B. Pillsbury gives a full treatment of the subject in his book on _Attention_, 1908, and a condensed account of the matter in Chapter V of his _Essentials of Psychology_, 2nd edition, 1920.

Another full treatment is that of Titchener, in his _Textbook of Psychology_, 1909, pp. 265-302.

On the topic of distraction, see John J. B. Morgan's _Overcoming of Distraction and Other Resistances_, 1916.

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