Advice for a grumpy guest & getting grandpa to the wedding
Dear Dr Ash,
I’m packing for the annual family holiday in Cornwall but tempted to hijack the car and keep driving until I get to Spain. It’s the prospect of a week with my mother-in-law, an alarmingly fit and healthy woman who strides about making plans for outings, hikes and beach picnics that everyone has to join. After a day of constant noise from squabbling children and dogs I long for an evening alone listening to jazz or opera, but am forced to join in rowdy suppers with sing-songs and games. While my wife adores the annual reunion of all the cousins and their children, it reminds me of the horrors of prep school, where there was no privacy. My wife is unsympathetic and tells me not to be a spoilsport so by the end I invariably hate her as well as her entire family. I can only survive by fantasising about nudging m-in-law off a cliff or stabbing her with her silver letter-knife. (Her stash of Agatha Christie novels is my one comfort.) I resent having to suffer during a much-needed vacation.
Curmudgeon,
Cornwall
Dear Curmudgeon,
Your description of Cornwall is beautifully cinematic. I am imagining a sun-drenched beach with children playing and a soundtrack of gentle music which then warps into something dissonant and sinister. The scene cuts to an evening game of Cluedo, filled with laughter and banter, and we zoom in on the face of one poetic soul for whom the game is more than a metaphor. I can see why you feel that going solo to Spain might be the safer option for all concerned.
It’s striking that in real life the same scene can be blissful to some and abhorrent to others. While I am sceptical about most claims surrounding personality, this dimension you’re hinting at – something like the difference between introverts and extroverts – has a surprisingly robust biological basis. The difference involves, at least in part, a genetic variation in dopamine receptors in the midbrain. Dopamine is a neuromodulatory chemical often associated with a euphoric sort of pleasure. It plays an important role in exploratory behaviours and associative learning in animals, as well as in attention in humans. In extroverts, a little squirt of dopamine creates a very strong association between a stimulus (like Cornwall) and a reward (like laughter or food). The association is so strong that even negative aspects of the environment, like family squabbles and chaos, seem insignificant compared to the rush of pleasure. For an introvert, that same squirt of dopamine creates a weak association, or none at all. There is no rush of pleasure.
Negative aspects of the environment will naturally capture the introvert’s attention, and it is those negative aspects that will drive their associative learning.
The members of your family-in-law who are genetically related to each other may share dopamine receptor variants that predispose them to extroversion. They, and your wife, will find it difficult to understand why you don’t form the sort of conditioned associations that they do, and why your brain doesn’t latch on to the positive aspects of the experience in the way their brains do. It is hard to look out through the windows of consciousness and imagine that the internal rooms of others’ minds can be furnished so differently to our own. Nevertheless, it is the case.
My advice is that you have a kind, frank conversation with your wife about this difference in your personalities. You don’t need to criticise her dopamine system and she doesn’t need to criticise yours, any more than you would fault each other’s kidneys for differences in blood pressure or each other’s pancreases for differences in digestion. If, after this conversation, you feel able to compromise by going to Cornwall, she and her family need to allow you some space and peace while you are there. If, on the other hand, they cannot accept and accommodate the difference in your personality, I really do think the healthier choice is to avoid this holiday altogether. At the very least, stay safe: avoid the Agatha Christie, and pick up some bucolic Laurie Lee instead.
Best wishes,
Dr Ash.