CHAPTER VII

HABIT

Few people realize how powerful a factor for physical, as well as moral, good and evil is habit. The old expression that habit is second nature is amply illustrated in the most familiar experiences. The child, unable at the beginning to make any but the most ill-directed movements, learns during its first two years to make the most complex co-ordinated movements--first with difficulty, then with ease, and finally with such facility that there is no need for it to pay any but the most perfunctory attention to their execution. Walking requires the co-ordination of a large number of muscles so that the absolute position of every muscle in both the legs and in the trunk, at least as far as the shoulders, must be definitely known and their activity properly directed. Perhaps nothing brings out more clearly the difficulty of walking, though it depends on only one factor, the co-ordination of the two sides of the body, than the story of the Italian Tozzi twins. They were born with two heads and shoulders and with only one pair of legs. It was found that each head ruled the leg on its own side of the body. It was impossible for the creatures to walk. They lived to adolescent life, yet never succeeded in walking. The intimate association of the lower parts of their trunk and the long years of companionship of their brains, did not enable them to accomplish what seems to us so commonplace a co-ordination of movement as walking.

Formation of Habits.--The co-ordination of the two limbs is after all only a small portion of walking. The body must be held erect, the curve of {230} the spine must be managed so that the center of gravity is kept well within the base, and gluteal and femoral and calf muscles must all be co-ordinated with one another. In a few months a child learns to do all this, and in a couple of years it executes all the co-ordinate motions with such certainty that walking becomes not only an easy matter but an absolutely unconscious accomplishment that can be carried on while the mind is occupied with something else or while it becomes so abstracted that surrounding objects are not noticed.

A far more difficult co-ordination is required for talking. It is only when we analyze how nicely adjusted must be every movement, in order to pronounce consonants and vowels properly and to combine them in various ways, that we realize how complex is the mechanism of talking. A difference of a hundredth of an inch in the movement of the tongue, or less than that in the movements of various muscles of the larynx, makes all the differences between clear articulation and a defect of speech. In the course of the years up to seven, the child learns this wonderful co-ordination apparently without difficulty, but really at the cost of constant well-directed effort. There is no time in human existence when the child really learns so much as during the first four years of its existence, even if it learns nothing else except to walk and to talk. The foolishness of obtruding other things, information and study of various kinds, on the child's attention at this time should be manifest.

_Unconscious Regulation of Muscles_.--What is thus prefigured in early life invades every activity in later years. The boy who learns to ride a bicycle must at first devote all his attention to it, but after a while rides it quite unconsciously, his muscles having learned by habit to accommodate themselves automatically to all the varying positions of his machine. Anything well learned by habit is never forgotten. How hard it is to learn to swim, yet, after years away from the practice of it, the art comes back at once. The same is true of skating, and of the nice adjustments of muscles required in various games. Such is the influence of habit in forming a second nature. It is no wonder that Reid, the Scotch philosopher, should have written:

As without instinct the infant could not live to become a man, so without habit man would remain an infant through life, and would be as helpless, as unhandy, as speechless, and as much a child in understanding at threescore as at three.

Commenting on this Prof. J. P. Gordy, in his "New Psychology," [Footnote 26] says:

[Footnote 26: "New Psychology," by J. P. Gordy, New York, 1898.]

Strong as this statement seems, it is probably an understatement of the truth. Without habit, we should rather say, a man would be as helpless, as speechless, as unhandy at three-score as at birth. Habit is the architect that builds the feeble rudimentary powers of the child into the strong, developed powers of the full-grown man. If a child's vague, purposeless movements give place to definite movements performed for definite purposes, if his sensations become more definite, if his perceptions become clearer, if his memory becomes more accurate, if he reasons more and more correctly and logically, it is because of habit.

Law of Habit.--The law of habit is that every time we perform any action, mental or physical, or allow ourselves to be affected in any way, we have more proneness to, and greater facility in the performance of that action or in {231} experiencing that affection under similar circumstances, than we had before. In the chapter on Tics, I call attention to the fact that all the curious gestures by which we are individualized, are due to the law of habit. It is infinitely amusing to watch a group of people and note the endlessly different habits of which they have become the victims. There are tricks of speech and tricks of gesture eminently characteristic and often quite laughably individualistic. We imitate, especially those of whom we think much. Sometimes it is only when a father's attention is called to them in his sons that he realizes the ludicrousness, or at least laughableness, of some of the things he does, and he proceeds to correct both generations of their faults.

PHYSICAL HABITS

Habit and Food.--Most of our likes and dislikes for food are neither physical nor physiological, but simply habitual. We have become accustomed to certain things, and so we like them. We are unaccustomed to them, and do not care for them. It is amusing when people put forward these lacks of habituation as if they were physiological idiosyncracies. Many thin people do not like butter and milk. The real reason for this is not any peculiarity of digestion, or any gastric incompatibility, at least in 99 cases out of every 100, but the mere fact that they are not habituated to their use. That is one of the reasons why they are thin. Our tastes for curious foreign foods are nearly all deliberately acquired. Not one in ten ordinary Americans likes olives or caviar when first tasted. Nearly every curious article of food is "caviar to the general" at first trial. Later it becomes impossible to understand how we could have had any objection to them. At times, even an actual craving for them asserts itself as a consequence of the habitual use, and then deprivation means positive discomfort.

Slow Eating.--One of the most valuable habits that a man can cultivate, but one of the most difficult to acquire in our time, is that of eating slowly. Most Americans bolt their food to a degree that would be quite appalling to them if they realized what they were doing. Pieces of potatoe as large as the end of the thumb are swallowed. Bread and milk may be eaten so hurriedly as to be as potent a source of digestive disturbance as fried onions. There seems no doubt from what we know of Fletcher's experience and Chittendan and Follin's studies that a man derives more nutrition from food that is masticated properly, that he can get along and do his work on less material and that, above all, there is not the same tendency for him to put on weight that is so common among people after reaching middle age.

Sir Andrew Clarke used to have his patients chew a definite number ol times on each bite--say thirty times. Even so great a man as Gladstone submitted to this rule and gradually learned to accustom himself to eating very slowly. Fletcher's system of chewing the food until it passes down the esophagus of itself without any swallowing effort is a better rule. It is a surprise to most people how unconsciously swallowing can be accomplished in this way and how little liquid is needed in order to prepare food to be swallowed. The formation of the habit, however, is not an easy one. Persistence and frequent reminders are needed, or else the beginnings of the habit are soon dissipated and old bolting habits reassert themselves.

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Water Drinking.--In drinking, habit is as supreme as in eating. The majority of people who work outside and perform muscular labor crave and take an abundance of water. Many of those who live indoors, especially in steam-heated houses, may need it quite as much if not more, but get out of the habit of drinking water. As we need about three quarts of water per day for use in our economy, this no water habit often becomes a serious factor in the production of physiological disturbances. We have replaced water drinking and the milk drinking of the olden times by tea and coffee, and as these are stimulants, habits form very readily with regard to them. I have known people who were sure they would be miserable without their half-dozen cups of tea or coffee each day, and who actually would be miserable for a few days, when deprived of it. They were seriously impairing the efficiency of their nervous system by so much stimulation. Unfortunately, it is just those whose nervous systems have least stability, and are already the subjects of more stimulation by conscious introspection than is good for them, that are most likely to form the tea and coffee habits, and who are most harmed by them, though they find it hard to understand the reason therefor.

Air and Exercise Habits.--Habits with regard to exercise and fresh air are particularly important. In this matter it is only habit that can be really helpful. To work at high pressure indoors for several days, and then, when one is quite on edge, to take a lot of severe physical exercise is not good. Every human being should go out between meals. I am not one of those who believe much in exercise for exercise's sake--what is needed is fresh air. Our sanatorium patients who sit out-doors all day have fine appetites. The advice to a busy man that he must form the habit of being out between every two meals for from half an hour to an hour would usually evoke a strenuous protest, but all he needs to do is to get up half an hour earlier and walk down to his office, and if he will walk back in the evening he will have plenty of air and exercise between his meals.

Change of Habits.--Patients do not want to change their habits. They come to a doctor to be treated. They want some medicine that will, without further inconvenience, rid them of certain discomforting symptoms. At the beginning, at least, patients resent interference with their habits. They are quite satisfied, and to modify them requires an effort that must be continued for some time. The changing of old habits and the formation of new habits are most important for the ordinary ills to which mankind is prone. Modifications of habit constitute real hygiene and are not mere corrections of symptoms, permitting the habits that have led up to them to go on.

Patients may conclude that it is too much trouble to change their habits. We all know persons who feel that they can not give up their coffee. As to whether or not the modification of a habit is worth the trouble it involves, the patient must be the judge after the case is put properly before him. It is possible that he may learn to endure the inconvenience given him by his symptoms rather than to stand the inconvenience of changing a nicely settled habit, and forming a new one. The reward should be put very plainly before him, however, and besides, the consequences of his habit in the future should be suggested so that he may realize just what it will lead to.

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MENTAL HABITS

It is evident from the foregoing that physical habits have much to do with making life easier and saving expenditure of nervous energy, but just this same thing holds good for mental states. With care, a proper habit of mind and of the mental attitude towards difficulties in life, can be so cultivated as to ward off many of the discouragements, and most of the causes of depression that weigh heavily on some people. The natural disposition can not be entirely overcome, but habit, as a second nature, can modify the personality so as to make conditions much better than before.

With this wonderful power in habit, it is too bad that its force for good is not used. It is especially important that its force for evil shall not allowed to dominate human actions so as to make them harder of accomplishment. Many people, who are greatly troubled by the inconveniences and discomforts necessarily associated with human life, worry over it to such a degree as to make themselves sick. The expression I have quoted elsewhere of the old man who said, "I have had many troubles but most of them never happened," is a typical example of what the habit of looking at things from a wrong standpoint means to many people. They are confirmed pessimists. Their one consolation, when a small evil happens to them, is that perhaps this may be sufficient to ward off the greater evil that fate surely has in store.

Pessimism.--Pessimism has been defined as sticking one's nose in a dungheap and then asking, "How is it that it smells bad around here?" Some people are always nursing a grievance. No matter how many times they may happen to have been undeceived, still the next time the opportunity occurs they are sure that fate or friends or someone has it in for them and that the worst may happen at any time. In the expressive words of a recent slang phrase, they have a "perennial grouch." This state of mind toward the environment not only prevents the physical and mental good that cheerfulness brings with it, but it unfavorably influences physical conditions within the body. People suffering from indigestion are usually morbid, petulant, and hard to get along with. Many a dyspeptic makes this an excuse for his bad temper. Anyone who has had to study these cases much soon comes to the conclusion that the beginning of the digestive disturbance was the gloomy outlook on life, which flowed inward to disturb the digestion and all the other animal functions.

Depression of Mind and Body.--Patients suffering from melancholia nearly always lose in weight. As a result of their lowered vitality, there is a suppression of the nervous impulses which rule over nutrition, with a consequent loss of weight. In cases where there are only tendencies to depression and gloom, the effect upon the digestive system is not so marked but there is no doubt that there is some effect, and that the indigestion in these cases is more often than not a result of the depressed state of mind, rather than the depression of mind the result of the indigestion.

Moodiness.--The habit of looking at the gloomy side of things is easily formed and, once acquired, it becomes very forceful. Many a man who was quite cheerful when young, becomes moody as he grows older. Nearly everyone permits moods more than is good for him. The attitude of mind that should be cultivated is one in which it is realized that, though there may be {234} many sources of evil in the world there is a preponderance of good even in the worst environment, and that opportunities for making the best of things will be found by any cheerful disposition. _Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch_ is a typical example in fiction of the optimism that counts. Miss Helen Keller in real life is a typical example of how the most untoward circumstances can not crush the spirit of man if he only wishes to be cheerful--if he only tries to lift himself above his surroundings, no matter how discouraging they may seem to be. No one is without discouragement and causes for unhappiness. "Happy he who has least," the Greek dramatist said.

The difference between the optimistic and the pessimistic point of view is much more a matter of habit than is usually thought to be the case. Indeed, there is good reason for assuming that it is so largely a matter of habit, that other factors count for little. We all know individuals who, after having, been cheery, bright, hopeful and helpful, have had some incident sour them and then they have been just the opposite. This did not come all at once; it was a growth. They felt hurt and aggrieved, and then began to look at things through dark glasses, and after a time could see nothing on its brighter side. Not infrequently, as doctors well know, the growth of such a moody disposition has been the signal for the development of a series of complaints, if not of actual symptoms, and men and women who have not been in the doctor's hands before now become valetudinarians. This new physical condition is often attributed by their friends, by themselves, and even by complacent physicians, to the effect upon them of the trial or disappointment that struck them. Only too often it is wholly due to the cultivation of a habit of pessimism consequent upon a shock that for the moment pushed their cheerfulness into the background. Strong characters will not be thus easily affected, but weaker characters need not suffer such a change of disposition and with it a deterioration of health or well-being unless they so will it.

MANNERS AND DISPOSITION

Habit can modify nature so much as to make what is practically another man. We all know how the dancing master can transform a country gawk into a refined, courteous society man (not gentleman, for that is something else) of graceful carriage and even handsome bearing. He cannot do this for all the pupils that come to him, for it is impossible to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, but for anyone that comes with good will the revolution in manners is often a revelation to those who have known the man before. When the exterior can be changed so much, the interior attitude toward other people certainly can be greatly modified.

Persons of a melancholic disposition may be surprisingly cheerful, and even gay, with comparative strangers when they make the effort to be so. For many people, meeting with strangers is an excellent remedial measure. It stirs them up to present the best side, and it occupies attention to the exclusion of themselves in a way that is extremely beneficial. If people would only form the habit of being as courteous to their own folks as they are to others, the disposition involved in this would often save them from certain symptoms, and save their physicians from many complaints.

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Happiness is the basis of good health. The phrase is often put the other way: Good health is the basis of happiness. Without health there is no happiness. But every physician knows that many a patient suffering from real organic ills, and having much physical pain to bear, still has many hours of happiness in working for others. This happiness reflected back upon his physical life is not able to cure his ailments, but does so lessen the significance of the symptoms as to make the ailment more bearable.

THERAPEUTIC IMPORTANCE OF HABIT

The most important therapeutic element in the formation of good habits, mental and physical, is that habit does away with the necessity for conscious regulation of many details of life. Without habits of doing things, we have to make numerous decisions and keep on making them under conditions that require special effort and waste of energy. When habit asserts itself, there is little or no difficulty. Habits of living in airy rooms, of taking exercise, of food regulation as to quantity and quality, of methods of taking food as regards mastication, the quantity of fluid ingested, the hours of meals and the like, can all be formed and then followed without effort. Just inasmuch as life can be ruled by habit, nerve force is conserved. This is as true for our attitude towards life, our disposition and consequently our satisfaction with life, as for anything else that we do. Habitual cheerfulness, habitual readiness to make allowance for others and to be helpful to them, habitual self-control--all of these things can be cultivated. Properly cultivated, they save much of the wear and tear of life, and make for contentment and happiness much more than many of the things for which men strive so anxiously because they seem to promise happiness.