Spring 2001:  Optimism and Problem Solving

My theme for this year has been the quality of optimism. 


A decade ago, University of Michigan psychology professor Christopher Peterson and his collaborator Lisa Bossio surveyed the extensive literature concerning the relationship between optimism and physical health.  Their book, Health and Optimism (Basic Books 1991), offers insights that can help us to explore this terrain with greater specificity.


Peterson and Bossio define optimism in cognitive, rather than emotional, terms.  Their definition entails a set of beliefs about the real world, beliefs that lead people to approach the world actively, gathering information they can use to solve problems.  The authors measure subjects’ optimism according to how they explain the causes of misfortunes they experience.  Optimists are those who attribute bad events to causes that are external to themselves, unstable (i.e., ephemeral), and specific to the particular event.

Peterson and Bossio describe many interesting studies that link optimistic thinking with such different health attributes as reduced incidence of the flu and prolonged survival after breast cancer.  And they offer thoughtful suggestions about how such a relationship might be explained.


I suspect, however, that lawyers would be most interested in their discussion of the relationship between optimism and problem solving.  The authors first discuss the experimental analysis of “learned helplessness.”  Dogs and people were subjected to unpleasant occurrences over which they had no control (electric shocks for the dogs, problems that can’t be solved for the people).  Those experiences made them less effective  than their counterparts when they later confronted other situations in which they had greater control.


 Optimistic people were less prone to learned helplessness than pessimists.  The authors found a significant difference between the two groups in the scope of the learned helplessness effect.  Pessimists tend to generalize their experience of helplessness from one kind of task to another kind.  Optimists, in contrast, tend to restrict the helplessness lesson to domains that are closely similar to the domain of initial frustration.


It is reasonable to ask whether a law school can help nurture that quality in its students.  I suspect that we can.  Not by preaching, and perhaps not by the Socratic method.  But perhaps we can model for our students an optimistic approach to our  environment.  We could consciously look for realistic evidence that the causes of misfortune are external, unstable, and specific, and resist the impulse to see them as internal, stable, and general.  We might thereby help them to develop reflexes that will help them to be healthier and more successful attorneys. 


Just as this issue was going to press, the Law School experienced a disappointing setback in the litigation over our admissions policy:  the district judge issued an opinion concluding that our policy is unconstitutional.  And it seems appropriate to modify the ending of this message to think about what the research about optimism might teach us about how to respond to that setback. 


The first lesson is not to overreact.  We should resist any impulse to think of the trial judge’s views as internal (reflecting the true intrinsic nature of our policy), stable (reflecting some enduring understanding of the law), or general (reflecting the consensus of contemporary view).   And, indeed, there is ample reason to believe the court’s reasoning is external (because it turns on general ideas about college admissions rather than an accurate description of our particular admissions policy), unstable (because it is inconsistent with the Supreme Court’s decision in Bakke), and specific (because it is inconsistent with the most recent decisions of another judge on the same court, the Ninth Circuit, and the Fifth Circuit).


The second lesson is not to be Panglossian.  We should not believe that things will simply work out for the best, regardless of what we do.  Rather, animated by a belief that what we do can make a differences, we must work assiduously to present the best possible appeal.  We must document patiently the misdescriptions of our policy that found their way into the trial court opinion.  Critically, we must honestly engage the arguments against us, crafting direct and candid responses to the strongest criticisms that have been made.  And we must explain, simply and directly, why the trial court opinion is ultimately grounded on a misreading of governing legal doctrine. 


That, in short, is what we intend to do.