July 17, 2024—In his book The Happiness Hypothesis, Jonathan Haidt (2006) offers the metaphor of the elephant and the rider to visually capture the relationship between the mind and the gut. He argues that the gut is the oldest human form of knowing and is represented by the elephant. The mind, he suggests, is a newer form of knowing and is the rider sitting atop the elephant. The take home point of this visual metaphor is that the mind (the rider) believes it is in control, while it is the elephant (emotions) who is more powerful when it comes to informing human behavior. A calm elephant moves along with purpose and quiet intent. A frightened elephant trumpets, snorts, and can stampede through the brush regardless of the rider’s effort to control and redirect.
What are the implications for teaching and learning if this metaphor is an accurate representation of the interconnected nature of the mind and emotions? I find this metaphor helpful when considering what is best pedagogically for me and the students in my courses. When my emotional elephant is overly active it can push through the classroom disrupting desks, texts, concepts, and students. When a student’s elephant is inflamed, it too can cause havoc on their learning and that of their fellow students. In both cases an appeal to reason and intellectual commitments is of little use. Until the elephant settles down, deep learning that involves the integration of the mind and gut is rarely possible.
Since reading Haidt’s book I’ve taught this metaphor to students and I have worked to construct a classroom climate that attends to both emotions and the mind. Initially, I simply kept a close eye on learning and the potential of elephants to become aroused and dangerous to self and others. I worked to create a calm and gentle classroom, most often by steering away from overly controversial topics or content. When I taught tough subjects or reacted to student comments likely to excite other elephants, I consciously worked to frame the experience in a way that “managed” my emotions and those of others. What I experienced and learned over time is the value of periodically disturbing the complacency of the elephant. An excited elephant is an attentive elephant and can signal the mind to pay attention. Something of importance is happening. I feel emotionally restless. Take note.
It is in these moments of disruption that the potential exists for transformational learning through critical reflection guided by questions associated with deep learning. Why am I upset? Why are others not upset? Why is logic and reason not helpful in learning what I most need to learn now? Are my emotions grounded in fact, conjecture, academic texts, experience, or opinions of others? What are the stories and experiences of classmates? This is where emotions and the mind can be most productive in the pairing of attentiveness with rationality. The mind can help refine the meaning behind emotions and provide the power of passion with direction and purpose.
I was recently visiting Yellowstone National Park and spending long hours watching the more than human world unfold before me. This year I was attentive to the actions of bison who form large herds moving along the Lamar River Valley. One of my fellow nature watchers pointed out the small birds riding on the backs of bison. After focusing my attention there and reflecting on what I was seeing, I think the image of the bison and bird is a more geographically and pedagogically appropriate metaphor than the elephant and rider. The emotion and mind relationship remains true, but there are important distinctions that are particular to the bison and bird.
In this metaphor, the bird is more mobile. It can, and does, take flight when it is necessary. The mind, it seems, is also capable of periodic flights from the body and emotions. A common critique of higher education is that it often views learning as exclusively an above-the-neck activity. The body and all its complexity is primarily a vehicle for carrying around the mind, which is viewed as the true seat of knowing. But other times, allowing the mind to wander can be the source of imagination free from other constraints. A bird that flies from the back of a bison often returns sometime later. There is a certain amount of agency and autonomy in this metaphor that is less evident in Haidt’s elephant and rider.
The grazing behavior of bison, head down and slowly walking forward, often disturbs insects in the grass. As they flee the advancing bison, the insects take wing or hop away. At that moment the bird leaves the back of the bison and hunts down the insect. Sometimes taking wing in pursuit and other times dropping to the ground where the bison is munching away. In my experience this is a good description of what happens in the classroom. The bison of emotions is grazing along contently. At times a hidden or unexpected feeling emerges from the curriculum and draws the attention of the mind, which swoops in and seeks to provide order or reordering of the self.
In the expansive and flat grasslands of the Lamar River Valley a bison back is a good place to watch for predators and to see the world from a different perspective. Riding on the back of emotions is one of many ways for the mind to perceive conceptual traps and to see and experience the world in a novel way. Many times, learners who are not attending to their emotions are like birds walking in the grass. They are less successful at catching prey (essential learnings) and they are experts at seeing what is in front of their eyes but are less successful at seeing the wider world.
Like the elephant and the rider, the bison and bird metaphor as a description of learning is dependent on the nature of the elephant or bison. A charging elephant or a stampeding Bison is no place for a rider or bird. One can be thrown and the other will take flight. This raises questions of pedagogy for me. What are the ways you invite emotions into the classroom? How do you pair emotions and mind into a collaborative relationship? What strategies for calming the elephant/bison do you find most successful in pursuit of truly transformative learning? To that end, how are you using your emotions to advance learning for yourself?
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