
Not all examples of voluntary self-sabotage have this recursive feature, but they all involve Unintentional Trance Formation [UTF]. This tale of Mr. E illustrates how UTF can cause an otherwise competent fellow to voluntarily follow a path that he has already discovered will lead him to ruin. He is considered competent not because he never makes mistakes, but because he learns from them and figures out how to achieve the outcome he wants. After a disastrous relapse, he uses a strategy that has served him well in other domains of life. He first tries to make sense of his history by tallying his gambling wins and losses and the pleasures and pains he derived from the activity. He discovers what he already suspected: The costs far outweigh the benefits. There is no question in mind about whether this appraisal is objectively valid. His wife and everybody who cares about him would agree. Needless to say, he will appraise gambling differently when he is trance-formed by temptation. He is savvy enough to recognize that temptation is a potent foe that can distort his judgment. However, the problem he faces is more profound. He cannot foresee the depth of the distortions because his foresight, like all first-person experience, is state-dependent. It’s not just that his judgment and perception are different before and after a relapse; he is different! The voluntary choices made by these two versions of the same individual are contradictory.
It’s one thing to understand that other people’s judgments are distorted by their current psychological state. Everybody, including our hero, knows that he will appraise gambling differently when his judgment is influenced by remorse over his previous relapse than when he is under the spell of temptation. This is third-person knowledge that most observers, including our hero, understand. He has the cognitive ability to rapidly acquire abstract knowledge like this. First-person skill development, on the other hand, develops slowly with practice. Knowing himself well enough to solve his problem requires understanding the abstract principles of cause-and-effect as observed from the outside, and the practical skill of working with these principles from the inside.

The fiction of Mr. E serves the same function as Ocampo’s pixels; specifically, words on the screen that will interpret as a meaningful experience. Your research task in both cases is to observe the transformation from data [pixels, words] to subjective experience [images, experience of reality]. So, suspend your disbelief and imagine that you are Mr. E soon after a relapse. His wife is disheartened by his failure to abstain from gambling as he said he would and he feels worse about it than she does. He swears, “I’ve learned my lesson this time, and I’ll never gamble again!” But she’s been here before and replies, “You’re full of shit! I know you better than you know yourself, and you’re going to do what you always do. You’ll gamble the next time you get the chance.” He claims he means what he says, and a lie detector test would show that he is telling the truth. Nevertheless, just as she predicted, it wasn’t long before he voluntarily drove himself to the casino and gambled.
The words that make up the fictional story of Mr. E serve the same function as Ocampo’s pixels: Specifically, they are the data on the screen that a soul such as you can transform into a meaningful experience. Your research task in both cases is to observe the transformation from data [pixels, words] to subjective experience [images, experience of reality]. So, suspend your disbelief and imagine that you are Mr. E soon after a relapse. His wife is disheartened by his failure to abstain from gambling, as he said he would; he feels worse about it than she does. He swears, “I’ve learned my lesson this time, and I’ll never gamble again!” But she’s been here before and replies, “You’re full of shit! I know you better than you know yourself, and you’re going to do what you always do. You’ll gamble the next time you get the chance.” He claims he means what he says, and a lie detector test would show that he is telling the truth. Nevertheless, just as she predicted, it wasn’t long before he voluntarily drove himself to the casino and gambled.

If you could replicate her third-person perspective, you would experience one reality; a different reality would emerge if you could replicate his first-person experience. The latter is much more difficult to create because it requires you to regard his obviously distorted perspective as valid and complete. Nevertheless, neither of their models of reality is valid and complete. She doesn’t have access to his subjective experience and is, therefore, blind to what causes him to act as he does. Even though he has access to all the information available to her [including his history of failed commitments] in addition to his own subjective experience, he is blind to what is obvious to her (and to everyone else). Each perspective has access to the information the other one lacks. To use the optical illusion metaphor: Like the researcher, she has access to the pixels [objective reality] but not to the images [the meanings that cause him to act as he does]; he has access to the image he creates, but is oblivious to the reality from which he creates it [the pixels have no intrinsic meaning and could be interpreted as, say, a pretty girl or birds tending a nest]. The collaboration offers a different, more comprehensive perspective on cause-and-effect than either would alone. This metacognitive perspective inoculates our heroes against the Soul illusion: The dogma that they know the truth when they do not.
Earlier, you created different images from the same pixels. Now, see if you can use your cognitive and imaginative faculties to create different psychological states [remorse and temptation] from the same objective reality [the facts of his history]:
- Induction of the trance of remorse: His point of view after his most recent relapse was as a self-loathing loser who had lost control over his actions and destroyed everything he had worked for his entire lifetime to build. In hindsight, he judged his decision to gamble a mistake and would undo it if he could. He understood that overt actions are irreversible, but he could prevent future catastrophes by swearing never to gamble again. Making the commitment to abstain from gambling was a no-brainer; he was taken in by the illusion that since he now knows the truth, he would always judge gambling the same way.
- Induction of the trance of temptation: Sometime later, when the pain caused by gambling was far away, and circumstance brought the incentive closer, its immediacy exerts a progressively greater influence on his subjective reality. The version of Mr. E making decisions during high-risk situations perceives and judges reality differently from the one who sincerely intended never to gamble again.
To induce trance #1, imagine the thoughts and images that would go through your mind if you lost more money than you could afford, and felt that you failed yourself and your family. The more detailed your fictional, first-person thoughts and imagery are, the more authentic your emotional reaction will be and the more interesting your exploration . . . . (See if you can induce these state changes now).
If you were able to elicit frustration, self-loathing, or shame, congratulations! You intentionally created subjective phenomena without the aid of drugs, video prompts, or any other external aid. Just as you used Ocampo’s pixels to create images, you used my words to create subjective realities that evoked a change in your emotional/motivational state. Now that you have demonstrated the ability to change your psychological state intentionally, you can contrast that with the Unintentional Trance Formations responsible for Mr. E’s perverse pattern of resolving to quit gambling and then, perversely, gambling.
Approximating Mr. E’s remorseful trance was easy because you can identify with a remorseful reaction to making a costly mistake when you should have known better. Replicating trance induction #2 is more challenging, especially if you don’t have a history of losing the battle with temptation. In that case, this exercise, like using heavier weights to build muscle, will strengthen the cognitive and imaginative faculties required to induce Intentional Trance-Formation. So, once again, suspend your disbelief and imagine you are seeing the world through Mr. E’s eyes. He is giving himself a vacation “to get away from it all.” After a few days camping around Yosemite, he’s on the road to visit his buddy in Arizona when he realizes that if he took a short detour, he could spend the night at his favorite four-star hotel in Las Vegas. His covert dialog: “I’m taking a week off work because I need a break from the stress. I could spend the night at a dingy Comfort Inn in the middle of nowhere or at a four-star hotel for fifty bucks.” When he imagines what his wife would say if she overheard that comment, he explains, “It’s not the gambling, what I really want is a relaxing vacation. The luxury of a great hotel room, fantastic food, and entertainment is what I need.” If his wife were actually sitting next to him, she would judge that statement as an intentional fabrication designed to justify going to the casino. But she would be reading him wrong. Despite all his faults, Mr. E is an honest man; his claim is not deception, as a lie-detector test would show. His sin was ignorance of himself, not deceit. While on the road thinking about that dialogue with his wife, he was not intending to gamble. However, once he arrived at the hotel, the casino’s immediate availability transformed him.

Mr. E.’s failure to anticipate what would happen to him as he neared the casino demonstrates that he doesn’t know himself. The silver lining of his painful mistake is that it gives his research team the opportunity to study cause and effect from both the inside and the outside. When he does, he will meet: The Problem of Immediate Gratification [the PIG] — the hyperbolic relationship between the trance-formative power [TFP] of an incentive and its immediacy [in terms of space, time, or psychological distance]. The hyperbolic relationship between the immediacy of the gratification and its TFP explains its stealthy ability to undermine the best of intentions. An incentive’s influence on subjective reality increases gradually at first but progressively rapidly as the incentive nears. As he walked past the casino, its influence on his subjective reality increased so rapidly that he was trance-formed before he knew what hit him, and the man who promised his wife he would never gamble was no longer present to influence his overt actions. He did not lose control of the vehicle; he lost control over who was operating it.
Unlike his solemn vow to quit gambling, his overt actions are irreversible. While he cannot undo his self-sabotaging action, he can prevent himself from making the same mistake again. Choosing to gamble was clearly a mistake, but it was a far greater mistake to do so after promising not to. The financial cost of his relapse made his financial situation worse than before; breaking his promise to his wife was destructive to his marriage. But the most destructive consequence was the damage to his belief that he would do what he said he would. As luck would have it, the gambling metaphor is well-suited to illustrate this point: When Mr. E makes a commitment, he is making a bet that he will adhere to it. If he honors his word, he wins, and his belief that he will do what he says he will do is strengthened. There is no requirement that he make a commitment; he does so, often publicly, as a voluntary guarantee to strengthen his resolve: It is a statement that:“This is more than an intention, I’m betting my reputation that I will accomplish it.” Because he is guaranteeing the outcome, he is giving long odds, so more is lost on a single failure than is won from many successes. Each time he does what he swore he would never do, subsequent vows of abstinence are worth less, until his word is worth nothing.