Chapter 22: You Do Not Have to Believe Every Thought
Alicia stood outside the door of her classroom, hand on the handle, and heard a voice in her head say: You’re not qualified to be doing this. It was her first day as a teacher. She had trained for it for years, and she h
Alicia stood outside the door of her classroom, hand on the handle, and heard a voice in her head say: You’re not qualified to be doing this.
It was her first day as a teacher. She had trained for it for years, and she had planned her lessons with care. Thirty ten-year-olds were on the other side of the door, along with a principal who had promised to look in at some point in the morning. Her heart was beating hard.
You’ve fooled everyone. They’ll find out in about five minutes. The voice had a certain authority. It sounded exactly like her own.
In the past, she would have done one of two things. She would have argued with it: That’s not true, I’m perfectly qualified, I have a degree, which would only have started a debate she could not win in the next thirty seconds. Or she would have tried to push it away, to not think about it, which would have made it louder. In the weeks before, she had tried both.
This time, a counselor had given her a phrase to try. She took a breath, and, as precisely as she could, she said inside her head: I’m noticing the thought that I’m not qualified to do this.
The effect was subtle and unmistakable. The thought was still there. It had not been defeated or refuted. But it had moved. It had gone from being the window she was looking through to being an object in the window, something she could see. And with a little gap in front of it, she found that she could open the door.
Thoughts as events
One of the most important ideas in modern psychotherapy is also one of the simplest: a thought is an event that happens in the mind. It is not necessarily a report on reality.
This idea is central to an approach called Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, usually shortened to ACT, developed by the psychologist Steven Hayes and his colleagues, Kirk Strosahl and Kelly Wilson. ACT draws a distinction between two ways of relating to a thought. In cognitive fusion, we are “hooked” by the thought: we treat it as literally true, and we respond as though it were an instruction or a fact. In cognitive defusion, we step back and see the thought for what it is: words and images passing through the mind.
The thought I’m not qualified may or may not be accurate. But, fused with it, Alicia has little choice but to act on it, by fleeing, hiding, or overcompensating. Defused from it, she can hold it as one mental event among many, and decide what to do based on her values rather than on the thought’s volume.
It helps to keep this chapter distinct from the last one. In Chapter 21 the question was whether a thought is accurate, and the thought record tests it against the evidence. Here the question is different: how tightly am I holding this thought, and can I act well while it is present? Defusion does not require the thought to be wrong, and it does not require the thought to leave.
Why fighting thoughts makes them stronger
A natural response to a distressing thought is to try to get rid of it. It turns out that this is a surprisingly poor strategy.
In 1987, the social psychologist Daniel Wegner conducted a now-famous experiment. He asked people to spend five minutes saying whatever came to mind, with one instruction: do not think of a white bear. The participants rang a bell each time a white bear came to mind. They rang it often. In a later phase, when they were allowed to think about white bears, those who had first tried to suppress the thought rang the bell more often than people who had been allowed to think about bears from the start. Researchers call this a rebound. In a later paper (1994), Wegner proposed that the mind uses two processes when we try to suppress a thought: one that searches for distracting alternatives, and one that checks whether the unwanted thought is still present, and, in checking, ends up bringing it back.
Later work, including a 2001 meta-analysis by Jonathan Abramowitz and colleagues, has examined the evidence as a whole, and the size and reliability of the rebound depend on the circumstances. But the practical lesson holds up well: trying not to have a thought is often a way of keeping it close.
Arguing with a thought is not much better. When Alicia debated her inner critic, she was giving it airtime, treating it as a serious opponent, and getting pulled into its terms. The alternative is neither suppression nor debate. It is noticing.
The art of stepping back
ACT offers several ways of creating distance from a thought. Here are some that people find practical.
“I’m noticing the thought that…” Adding this phrase turns the thought from a statement of fact into an observation about your mind. I’m a failure becomes I’m noticing the thought that I’m a failure. You can go a step further: I’m noticing that my mind is telling me the story that I’m a failure.
Naming the story. Many of our recurring thoughts are old acquaintances. Ah, there’s the “not good enough” story again. Giving it a name, even a slightly humorous one, can loosen its authority.
Repeating the word. In a classic exercise, you take a troubling word (failure, stupid) and repeat it aloud for thirty seconds. Around the twentieth repetition, the word often loses its meaning and becomes a strange sound. The psychologist Edward Titchener described this effect over a century ago, and ACT researchers, including Akihiko Masuda, have studied it as a way to reduce the grip of negative self-referential words. It is quirky, and it demonstrates a real truth: words are sounds before they are meanings.
Leaves on a stream. Imagine sitting beside a stream with leaves floating by. Place each thought on a leaf and watch it drift out of sight, without trying to hurry it or hold it. When you notice that you have been swept up by a thought, gently notice that, and return to the bank.
“Thanks, mind.” Said with a touch of humor, this is a way of acknowledging the thought’s presence without obeying it. Your mind is trying to protect you in the only way it knows how. You can thank it and keep going.
Making room, and acting on what matters
Defusion does not mean ignoring your thoughts, and it does not mean the thoughts vanish. In fact, one of the central ideas of ACT is willingness: making room for difficult thoughts and feelings to be present while you act in the direction of what matters to you.
This is the point at which the technique becomes a way of living. The question is not how do I get rid of this thought? It is: given that this thought is here, what do I want to do with my next hour? Alicia did not need to feel confident to teach. She needed to want to teach more than she wanted to be free of the voice.
It is worth noting that not every thought should be defused and dismissed. Some thoughts carry real information: I haven’t prepared enough. This plan has a hole in it. The useful question that ACT therapists often ask is about workability: Is this thought, and the way I am responding to it, helping me move toward the life I want? If the thought helps, use it. If it merely hooks, loosen it.
Try this: “I’m noticing the thought that…”
Practice this for one week, with two or three thoughts a day.
- Catch the thought. When you feel a spike of anxiety, shame, or doubt, ask: What is my mind saying right now?
- Say it with the phrase. I’m noticing the thought that… Say it silently, or write it down.
- Name the story, if you recognize it. There’s the old “I’ll be exposed” story.
- Make room. Take one slow breath. Allow the feeling to be there without trying to fix it.
- Ask the values question. What do I want to do next, given what matters to me?
- Take the next small step. Not the perfect step. The next one.
Alicia opened the door. The first ten minutes were a little shaky. The voice did speak up once more, during a question from a student she couldn’t answer, and she said to herself, Thanks, mind, and told the student she would find out and report back. It was a very good answer, as it happened.
By Friday, the thought still came now and then. But it had become something like a noisy neighbor: unwelcome, but not in charge of the house.
A skill with a learning curve. Defusion can feel artificial, even a little silly, at first. It is not meant to make a thought vanish or feel false right away; it is meant to loosen the thought’s grip long enough for you to choose. Try it first with mild thoughts. If thoughts are intrusive and distressing, or feel like commands, seek professional support rather than relying on self-help alone.
A THOUGHT TO CARRY
You are allowed to have a thought without being obliged to obey it.