Differences between introvert & extrovert brains = Mind blown!
In the last post, I talked a lot about noodles.
We saw how cognitive biases have contributed to the flawed extrovert-is-best cultural beliefs. Beliefs that are about as nutritious as my lumpy, dumpy macaroni.
(To those who sent me tips and tricks on how to make mac that’s edible rather than tasting like sawdust, you’re fantastic! My attempts at winging it with recipes have been outlawed in all 48 contiguous United States so I’ll take all the help I can get.)
We saw how prevalent the Extrovert Ideal is in society. That dominant narrative that to be an extrovert is the end goal. OG bold introvert, Susan Cain’s* words on this point drive it home. “Nowadays we tend to think that becoming more extroverted will not only make us more successful, but also makes us better people.”
Introverts know this is a load of raccoon turds. We know we’re smart, capable, and blessed with earth-moving strengths. And we know that our tendency to be quieter doesn’t mean we don’t have fanfuckingtastic things to say.
So it drives. me. bananas. how often the advice on doing something bold—like claiming your place as a leader—boils down to the following:
Just become an extrovert.
How many times have you received that that little f*cknugget of advice? Or even said it to yourself or someone else? If you’re like me, your answer will be approximately forty-five butt-tons of times (a butt-ton being a handy measure of both weight and frequency).
Even if it’s true (it’s not) that the only way to be successful is to become an extrovert—is it even possible?
This go-round, I’m going talk about noodles a whole bunch more. Except it won’t be the pasta variety. We’re going to look at the ways introvert and extrovert brains differ.
Let’s do a little spelunking into the psychological and physiological research and see what science has to say about it.
We’ll start with physiology. According to a study published in the Journal of Neuroscience, introverts actually have larger, thicker gray matter in their prefrontal cortex.
YEP, WE’VE GOT THICK BRAINS!
The prefrontal cortex is the part of your noodle associated with abstract thought and decision-making. Extroverts had thinner gray matter in that same area. The implications of this are pretty gnarly because this suggests that introverts may devote more neural resources to abstract thought, while extroverts tend to live in the moment more.
Is this news to you, my introverted dahhhhling? Likely not,
Okay, so the physical makeup of the brain is different. But what about its functions? Two primary responses appear to differ between introvert and extrovert brains.
THE DOPAMINE AND THE ACETYLCHOLINE RESPONSES.
The dopamine response is well studied and is linked to our brain’s bow-chicka-bow-wow pleasure and rewards system. Dopamine is the “reward chemical” released in response to anticipated pleasures.
The more responsive your brain is to dopamine, the more likely you are to go tumbling tits over teakettle toward “flashy” rewards like sex, money, status, and gorging yourself on fancy macaroni that doesn’t come in a box.
When seeking these hits, dopamine addicts can assume greater and greater levels of risk to achieve it. This leaves us quieter types to wonder what the frick frack snick snack is driving these people to go full monty while jousting in a snowstorm?! It just seems so… unnecessary.
Acetylcholine, by contrast, is linked to pleasure of a different sort. Specifically, acetylcholine gives us the warm fuzzies when we turn inward. It’s a driver behind introverts’ ability to think and focus deeply on a single thing for an extended period of time. Like that time I spent three days learning new code for a feature on my website that I didn’t end up using.
You may have already guessed it but studies have revealed extroverts’ dopamine pathways to be larger and more active than they are in introverts. Conversely, for introverts, it’s the acetylcholine that makes us kittens purr.
THIS HELPS EXPLAIN WHY INTROVERTS ENJOY CALM ENVIRONMENTS.
It’s easier to turn inward when we’re not attending to all that external stimulation. Is there anything more blissful than the silence and solitude that allow you to actually think?!
Okay, we’ve got the physical characteristics of the brain as well as brain chemicals being different. Now let’s talk about what this rad dude named Jerome Kagan observed. Kagan is kind of a big deal in the world of personality psychology. He spent his career revolutionizing the study of temperament (the biological foundations of personality).
In an impressive longitudinal study, he followed 500 participants from infancy through their teen years and tracked their responses to various sorts of stimuli. The loud clap of a balloon popping, acrid smells, clowns and creepy-ass people in gas masks. (Those last two just seem mean. Way to scar the children, Kagan. #science)
What he found was that the children he studied had very different reactions. About 20% of the infants were classified as high-reactive—meaning they pitched a forking fit when presented with the stimuli. Another group of 40% were deemed low-reactive—they were pretty chill with the creepy clowns. The remaining 40% fell somewhere in the middle.
Kagan made a counterintuitive hypothesis. He suggested that the children who were high-reactive—the ones who fired on all cylinders when a balloon popped or a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol was waved under their noses—would grow up to be introverts. The kids who were less fazed would grow up to be extroverts.
As it turns out, Kagan was right.
HE FOUND A HIGH CORRELATION BETWEEN REACTIVITY AND FUTURE INTROVERSION AND EXTROVERSION.
A fun experiment I like to do when speaking on this topic is to ask the audience to imagine that they’ve squirted a dropper full of lemon juice on their tongue. If they immediately start salivating like a hopped-up hyena at just the thought of lemon juice, there’s a decent chance they’re batting for Team High-Reactive.
Kagen measured responses controlled by a primitive part of the brain located deep within the limbic system—the amygdala.
The amygdala functions as a sort of switchboard operator for the brain. It receives information, then directs the call to the rest of the brain. A primary function is detecting new or threatening things in the environment and sending the signal to engage the fight-or-flight response.
See a tiger, run away.
Hear someone yells “FORE” on the golf course, duck and cover.
Sister tries to steal your ice cream cone, push her on the ground because eff that.
Thanks, amygdala!
[Fun fact: the amygdala is also believed to play a key role in pareidolia—that kooky and endlessly entertaining tendency to see faces in everyday objects.]
The children who thrashed and cried in response to stimuli didn’t do it because they were noisy extroverts. They did it because their amygdala was losing its shit and causing them to react to the new sounds, smells, and sights.
If we look at high-reactive introverted types as finely tuned instruments that pick up on all these external stimuli, is it any wonder why we need to check out after a certain amount of interaction?
This sensitivity to stimuli isn’t a bad thing. It can make introverts more cautious—considering what risks are best to take and which could mix up a shitstorm cocktail of terrible results. This can have BIG TIME ramifications in leadership. And THAT is exactly what we’ll be diving into next time so hold onto your butts!
Got thoughts? Hit me up!
*Susan Cain’s book Quiet inspired me to dive into much of the research in this post. It’s a must-read. And a must re-read.