Emma Seppälä, a psychologist with academic postings at Yale and Stanford universities, argues that modernity has forced the human brain into a highly reactive mode, effectively hijacking it with nonstop information and noise.
When it comes to your brain, who’s in charge: you or the onslaught of incoming stimulation? In “Sovereign: Reclaim Your Freedom, Energy, and Power in a Time of Distraction, Uncertainty and Chaos,” Emma Seppälä, a psychologist with academic postings at Yale and Stanford universities, argues that modernity has forced the human brain into a highly reactive mode, effectively hijacking it with nonstop information and noise.
To soothe ourselves, Seppälä says, we mindlessly adopt an array of coping mechanisms, some of which are self-destructive, from excessive eating and alcohol intake to angry outbursts and social withdrawal. But there are ways to interrupt our knee-jerk reactions and cope more thoughtfully, Seppälä argues. This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity.
Q In the book, you describe a formative experience in college involving your relationship to food. What happened?
A Starting at the age of about 16 or 17, I developed an eating disorder. I would binge-eat when I was feeling low, and then I would feel worse. It was an addictive habit, a compulsion. In college, in 1996, I went to a meditation session. It was Korean Zen, strict: You stared at the carpet for an hour with little to no instruction.
I thought, I’m never, ever doing this again. But I felt peaceful afterward. Then, the next day, I felt down again. There was an old leftover pizza in the dorm room. It wasn’t even a kind I liked; it was gross. But I had this impulse to binge, because that’s what I did when I felt bad. And suddenly a light went off in my head, and I thought: I always cry after I binge, and that makes me feel a little better, so why don’t I cry first? In that moment I thought, OK, I’ll cry, and then I’ll binge all I want. But when I was done crying, I no longer needed to binge, and I never binged again.
Q What did you think went on in that moment?
A During the meditation? I had no idea; I was just waiting for it to be over. In that moment, I did not realize anything except that I felt calmer afterward. But it was the next day that I realized that the meditation had opened a space of awareness and insight in my mind that was not there before.
Q You make the case now that this wasn’t a one-off, or happenstance, but that there is science behind your experience.
A There’s quite a good body of research now on the neuroscience of meditation, showing that it improves self-awareness, emotion regulation, self-control and many other things. Most people, if they’re honest with themselves, reach for some kind of coping habit when they are feeling stressed or down. Think food, alcohol, doomscrolling, entertainment, shopping, even overworking and overexercising. Most adults have never received formal education about what to do with negative emotions. Addiction is not just about substance use. It’s about trying to avoid a feeling. It’s about trying to escape. You know it’s not good for you, but you do it anyway because you don’t like the current state that you’re in — whether it’s feeling pain, sorrow, loss or shame.
Why? Because your compulsion in that moment is stronger than your awareness. You’re thinking short term, because the primitive areas of your brain hijack your ability to discern and be aware of the bigger picture of what’s good for you. You’re hyperfocused on relief from whatever you are experiencing and impulsive to change it.
That hijacking occurs because the parts of the brain that serve decision-making and self-control — like the prefrontal cortex — often don’t work properly in the heat of the moment. This allows the more ancient brain areas that we share with our evolutionary ancestors (like rodents) to rule the mind. These areas, such as the amygdala, give quick, unrefined signals about potential threats and rewards. They are important for our immediate survival but can make wrong decisions without the prefrontal cortex giving us the bigger picture about what’s good for us in the long run.
Research shows that when you meditate, you are strengthening that neural pathway for self-awareness. You’re expanding your ability to have awareness of, and therefore control over, your own emotions, without falling prey to compulsive behaviors. Meditation, because it cultivates self-awareness, allows you to gain perspective and thereby naturally gain self-control.
Q The main title of your book is “Sovereign.” I tend to think of sovereignty as it involves a nation-state. How do you mean it in this case?
A Given the chaos of the past few years, starting with the pandemic, I wanted to share the science of how to be resilient regardless of what life brings, and how to stay true to yourself and intentional regardless of outside influences.
In many cases, we are embroiled with behaviors, emotions and thought patterns that are self-destructive, and we’re not even aware of it. It’s especially important now, when there is so much coming at us — social media, marketing, negative news cycles, global threats — that there’s no awareness of being anxious and overwhelmed. The running theme of “Sovereign” is cultivating awareness so we’re not succumbing to reactivity, a programmed response and destructive behaviors, but living the lives we want.
Q What tactics aside from meditation do you suggest people use to clear their minds?
A A few key tactics are spending time in nature, which research shows not only significantly benefits our mental health but also our ability to think clearly and creatively. Spending time unplugging from our devices and media sources. Making time for periods of silence during the day or week. Breathing practices that our research has found significantly reduce trauma while cultivating the nervous system for greater calm. Sleep and exercise are a given.
