A Mind of Its Own: How Your Brain Distorts and Deceives [Hardcover]

'Consistently well-written and meticulously researched'

'Clear and accessible - a science writer to watch'

'An entertaining tour of current thinking'

‘A fascinating, funny, disconcerting and lucid book … you'll realise that your brain can (and does) run rings around you.’

‘This is one of the most interesting and amusing accounts of how we think we think - I think.’

‘Witty and informative’

‘A fascinating, funny, disconcerting and lucid book ... you'll realise that your brain can (and does) run rings around you.’

Can you trust your brain? Perhaps it occasionally misfires when faced with the 13 times table, or persistently fails to master parallel parking. But the brain is pretty amazing. Never before have we known so much about the sophistication of those one hundred billion grey cells. You might feel justified in thinking that you know what your brain’s up to, and that you’re in control.

Sorry. Think again.

Your brain is vainglorious. It deludes you. It is pigheaded, emotional and secretive. Oh, and it’s also a bigot. If your brain were a person you definitely wouldn’t invite it to parties and it would probably be a politician.

This book reveals the fiendish little sins your brain gets up to behind your back.

An enlightening tour of the less salubrious side of human psychology, dotted with popular explanations of the latest research and fascinating real-life examples, Cordelia Fine’s book tells you everything you always wanted to know about the brain – and plenty you probably didn’t.

Cordelia Fine was awarded a PhD in Psychology from University College London. She is now a Research Fellow at the Centre for Applied Philosophy and Public Ethics at the University of Melbourne.

The Vain Brain
For a softer, kinder reality
A week after Icon commissioned this book, I discovered that I was pregnant with my second child. The manuscript was due three days before the baby. My husband, a project manager both by temperament and employ, drew up a project plan for me. To my eye, it entirely failed to reflect the complexity, subtlety, and unpredictability of the process of writing a book. It was little more than a chart showing the number of words I had to write per week, and when I was going to write them. It also had me scheduled to work every weekend until the baby was born.
"This plan has me scheduled to work every weekend until the baby is born," I said.

"Plus all the annual leave from your job," my husband added.

I felt that he had missed the point. "But when do I rest?"

"Rest?" My husband pretended to examine the plan. "As I see it, you rest for two days after you finish the manuscript, shortly before going into labour, giving birth, and becoming the sole source of nutrition for a newborn."

I had a brief image of myself in labour, telling the midwife between gasps of gas what a treat it was to have some time to myself.

"What if I can’t do it?" I asked.

My husband gave me a ‘this really isn’t difficult’ look. "This is how you do it," he said, stabbing the plan. "You write this many words a week."

He was right, I told myself. Of course I could do it. It was irrelevant that I was pregnant. After all, growing a baby is easy – no project plan required. My first trimester nausea and exhaustion would soon pass. The brains of other, weaker women might be taken hostage by pregnancy hormones, but not my brain. My bump would remain well enough contained to enable me to reach the computer keyboard. And absolutely, definitely, without a doubt, the baby would not come inconveniently early. Of course I could write the book.

I then did something very foolish. I began research on this chapter - the vain brain. The vain brain that embellishes, enhances and aggrandizes you. The vain brain that excuses your faults and failures, or simply rewrites them out of history. The vain brain that set you up on a pedestal above your peers. The vain brain that misguidedly thinks you invincible, invulnerable and omnipotent. The brain so very vain that it even considers the letters that appear in your name to be more attractive than those that don’t.

I didn’t want to know any of this. But then it got worse. I went on to read just how essential these positive illusions are. They keep your head high and your heart out of your boots. They keep you from standing atop railway bridges gazing contemplatively at approaching trains. Without a little deluded optimism, your immune system begins to wonder whether it’s worth the effort keeping you alive. And most extraordinary, it seems that sometimes your vain brain manages to transform its grandiose beliefs into reality. Buoyed by a brain that loves you like a mother, you struggle and persevere - happily blind to your own inadequacies, arrogantly dismissive of likely obstacles – and actually achieve your goals.

I needed my vain brain back. Immediately.

As evidenced by the existence of this book, I managed to regain my positive illusions. (Either that or I truly am exceptional, talented, and blessed by the gods). Now it’s time for me to attempt to spoil your chances of happiness, health and success by disillusioning you.