There are endless motivations for human behaviour, from the basic drives for food and sex to more complicated ones, such as compassion, envy and anger. But none of these explain behaviours that we feel irresistibly, often inexplicably, driven to engage in – compulsions.
Compulsions come from a need that is desperate and tortured. They may bring relief, but they bring little enjoyment, and while one part of our brain desperately wishes to stop them, another is afraid of stopping.
We describe as “compulsive” someone who reads, tweets, steals, cleans, watches birds, lies, blogs, shops, checks Facebook, eats or Snapchats etc not only frequently but with the urgency of one who is not fully in control of their behaviour.
Compulsions, according to a growing body of scientific evidence, are a response to anxiety. We grab hold of any behaviour that offers relief by providing even an illusion of control. Against tectonic social and economic forces that feel as uncontrollable as King Canute’s tides, we seize on anything that might restore a sense of agency.
I used to view compulsions as foreign and almost frightening
I used to view life-altering compulsions as foreign and almost frightening. But in the course of my research, two things happened. First, when I got to know people who were compulsive, their behaviour didn’t seem unreasonable at all. It seemed like an understandable response to angst that would otherwise eat them alive. Second, I realised that although people with the most extreme compulsions seem like outliers, the anxiety that drives them to those extremes is universal – and underlies milder compulsions, too. Actively behaving to allay anxiety is a deep and ancient impulse.
Over any year, 1% of us suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). Even more of us find ourselves in the grip of a compulsion that falls short of something that is disabling enough to qualify as a mental disorder – in fact, some compulsions are adaptive, helping us lead our lives or perform our jobs more effectively.
Like many people, maybe you feel compelled to reach for your smart phone as soon as you wake up in the morning. Fortunately a growing number of experts have begun to succeed in distinguishing addictions from poor impulse control from compulsions.
An addiction begins with a flash of pleasure overlaid by an itch for danger; it’s fun to gamble or to drink, and it also puts you at risk. Impulsive behaviours involve acting without planning or even thought, driven by an urge for immediate gratification.
Compulsions, in contrast, are all about avoiding unpleasant outcomes. They are repetitive behaviours we engage in to alleviate the angst brought on by the possibility of negative consequences. But the actual behaviour is often unpleasant – or at least not particularly rewarding, especially after umpteen rounds of it. At its simplest, the anxiety takes the form of the thought: “If I don’t do this, something terrible will happen.” If I do not check my fiancé’s web history, I will not know whether he is cheating. If I do not religiously organise my cupboards, my home will be engulfed in chaos.
Underlying every compulsion is the need to avoid what causes you pain or angst. Compulsive behaviour is not necessarily a mental disorder. Some forms of it can be, and people in its clutches deserve to be diagnosed and helped. But many are expressions of psychological needs we all feel: to be at peace and in control, to feel connected and to matter. And if those are mental illnesses, we’re all crazy.
Can’t. Just. Stop. An Investigation of Compulsions by Sharon Begley is published by Robinson Books at £14.99
Compulsive behaviour? It may make more sense than you think
