A Critical Look at Jonah Lehrer's "DON'T"

To be completely honest, Jonah Lehrer’s article, “Don’t,” is born into some very cold water. The unsubstantiated anecdotal lede is golden, intriguing, and full of potential until the second paragraph hits and it’s revealed that the subject, Carolyn Weisz, in fact “has no direct memory of the experiment.” Though as the reader I am only marginally committed at this point, I still felt somewhat betrayed by the flimsy foundation on which the opening story is told—I had already bought in to this tale.

Regardless, the dreamy narration is enough to propel me forward; Lehrer goes on to say “she [Carolyn] strongly suspects that she was able to delay gratification,” a statement to which I respond, “hearsay.” It is not until Lehrer makes it clear that Carolyn is not the subject of this article that the shaky details earn the right to stay; they’re not perfect, but they’re there to craft a story, not provide testimony.

The article warms up when it is realized that the narrator is actually telling the story of Walter Mischel’s lifework; further, he is telling it with a commitment to complete transparency. Lehrer sacrifices clean corners for story, striking an endearing balance between hard facts as a base, and anecdotes to fill in the white space. Once beyond the slightly misleading and unfounded lede, Lehrer’s article features expert tone, structure, and a creative voice that elicits vivid imagery with every turn.

The tone in “Don’t” is a combination between that of a scientific research study and a scientist’s personal journey toward and through revelation. Lehrer mimics in his own writing the emotional arc that Mischel and the other scientists undoubtedly endured. He writes, “Mischel argues that intelligence is largely at the mercy of self-control,” and then goes on to quote the scientist: “’What we’re really measuring with the marshmallows isn’t willpower or self-control…We can’t control the world, but we can control how we think about it.’” Not only is this completely stellar quote wrapped in juicy hypothesized wonder, the very sentiment is one that has been widely popular in the last several years (think Freakonomics, Blink, The Tipping Point, and Outliers). Lehrer employs the quote in order to appeal to an audience that is already known to exist.

Additionally, the narrator’s heightened consciousness supplies confidence to the piece, and further, the way Lehrer uses his breadth of knowledge to zoom in and zoom out, relating bigger picture with smaller, creates credibility. With the exception of his aside about not being surprised that the low delayers took longer to return the laptops, the narrator endears himself by remaining comfortably removed from the subject.

Though this is a piece about scientific study, more specifically about what it is that “governs self-control,” Lehrer very carefully avoids weighing “Don’t” down with technical garble. Perhaps the cleverest example in “Don’t,” is that of the “Go/No Go task,” in which the variables are simple and the project is clearly, easily explained. By allowing the reader to share in the experiment, Lehrer forces active reading.

Further, his descriptions are organic and fresh. At no point do they grow stale or bog down the article. Lehrer writes first, “he takes on the body language of an impatient four-year old,” and second, describing Mischel’s discovery of a new learning process, says that he “ found a shortcut.” Particularly in the latter example, the language is unconventional but works to keep the reader participating in and thinking about the subject.

“Don’t,” concludes with a bang; at its last punctuation mark the water is scalding. As one who snacks before dinner, spends her allowance before she sees it, and can’t help but peak under the Christmas tree on the way to the bathroom, I very clearly identify as a low delayer. However, the evenhanded context in which Lehrer provides these highly relatable examples lends itself to identification whether the reader is a high or a low delayer.

Reading “Don’t” is a more involved experience than most television shows or movies can provide; it offers give and take, and truly relates the article’s specific scientific subjects with readers’ universalizable experiences.