Wired for Habits · Owen Brookfield
Chapter 8: Breaking a Habit Without Fighting Yourself
Hands That Find Their Way Back
Josefa is forty-five and works as an accountant in a firm that handles the finances of small shops. Since she was a child, she has bitten her nails. She does it without noticing: while reading reports, while on the phone, while waiting at traffic lights, while watching television. Her nails are often short and sore, and she feels embarrassed about them in meetings with clients.
Josefa has tried many times to stop. She has told herself firmly that she will not bite her nails. She has painted them with a bitter-tasting liquid. She has worn plasters on her fingertips. She has asked her husband to tell her whenever he sees her biting. Each method worked for a few days, sometimes a couple of weeks. Then, usually during a stressful period at work, the habit came back, as strong as ever.
What frustrates Josefa most is that the harder she tries not to bite her nails, the more she seems to think about them. When she makes a strong decision to stop, her attention keeps returning to her fingers. She notices every rough edge, every small piece of nail. Her hands seem to find their way to her mouth more often, not less. It is as if fighting the habit makes it stronger.
One evening, while reading a magazine article about habits, Josefa came across an idea that made her stop and think. The article suggested that habits are rarely broken by simply trying to stop them. Instead, they are more often changed by replacing them with something else, and by understanding the situations that trigger them. It also mentioned that trying hard not to think about something can sometimes make it come back more often. Josefa recognized her own experience exactly.
She also realized that her previous attempts had shared a pattern. Each one had focused on stopping, and none had asked why her hands went to her mouth in the first place, or what they might do instead. The bitter liquid and the plasters had made biting harder, which was a sensible kind of friction. But they had left her hands with nothing to do during stressful moments, and so, once the friction wore off, the old habit returned to fill the gap.
Breaking unwanted habits is one of the most common goals people have, and one of the most frustrating. This chapter looks at what science suggests about why fighting habits directly so often fails, and what tends to work better.
Why Fighting Often Backfires
One classic line of research in psychology looked at what happens when people try not to think about something. In a well-known type of experiment, volunteers were asked to try not to think about a particular image, such as a white bear, for several minutes, and to ring a bell each time the image came into their minds. Many found that the image kept coming back. Some studies also found that, after the period of trying not to think about it, people thought about it even more than people who had not tried to suppress it at all.
Researchers have suggested an explanation. When we try not to think about something, part of the mind has to keep watching for it, to check whether we are succeeding. But this watching keeps the forbidden thought close at hand, ready to appear. When we are tired, stressed or distracted, the watching continues, but our ability to push the thought away weakens, so it comes back more often. This effect has been studied many times. Its size varies, and some studies have found little or no rebound, but the general finding has appeared often enough to be taken seriously.
Something similar may happen with habits. When we try hard to stop a habit by force, we often keep our attention fixed on it, watching for it, worrying about it. This can make the habit more prominent in our minds, and it leaves us fighting a battle that is hardest to win exactly when we are tired or stressed, which is when habits are most likely to take over. Josefa's experience, of thinking more about her nails the harder she tried to stop, fits this pattern.
There is another reason why fighting habits directly often fails. As we saw in earlier chapters, habits are links between cues and responses, built through repetition. Simply deciding to stop does not remove the cue or the link. The cue still appears, the link is still there and the brain still prepares the familiar response. Trying to stop the response by force, every time, is like trying to hold back water with your hands. It may work for a moment, but the pressure is constant.
So the research suggests that a better approach is usually not to fight the habit head-on, but to work around it: to change the cues, to give the cue a new response and to reduce the need that the habit is meeting. These approaches work with the brain's habit system rather than against it.
Replace, Do Not Erase
An important finding from the study of learning, mostly from animal research, is that old habits are rarely erased completely. When an animal learns that a response no longer brings a reward, its behaviour changes, and the old response fades. But researchers have found that the old learning is not simply wiped out. It is overlaid by new learning. Under certain conditions, the old response can come back: after a period of time, when the animal returns to the place where the habit was first learned or under stress.
This has an important meaning for people trying to break habits. It suggests that the goal is not to erase the old habit, which may not be possible, but to build a new, stronger response to the same cue. When the cue appears, we want the new response to win, again and again, until it becomes the default. And we should not be surprised or discouraged if the old habit returns sometimes, especially in old places or under stress. Its return does not mean that all the work has been lost. It means that the old learning is still there, underneath, and that the new learning needs more strength.
This is why replacement is so often recommended. If a habit meets a need, as we saw in Chapter 3, then simply removing it leaves the need unmet, and the brain keeps looking for a way to meet it. If we replace the habit with a different behaviour that meets the same need, the cue still has somewhere to go, and the new behaviour can be strengthened through repetition.
Therapists who work with some kinds of persistent habits, such as nail biting, have developed a method that is sometimes called habit reversal. In general terms, it involves learning to notice the early signs of the habit, such as the urge or the first movement, and then doing a different action that is physically incompatible with the habit, such as clenching the hands gently or holding an object, until the urge passes. This approach has been studied for various habits and is generally considered helpful. For severe or distressing habits, it is best learned with the guidance of a qualified professional.
Another helpful idea is that urges usually rise, peak and fall, like waves, if we do not act on them. When an urge to perform a habit arrives, it can feel very strong, as if it will grow until we give in. But often, if we simply notice it and wait, it becomes weaker after a few minutes. Some programmes for changing habits teach people to observe urges with curiosity, rather than fighting or obeying them, and to notice how they change. This is sometimes described as riding the wave of the urge. It does not work for everyone, but many people find it helpful.
Josefa's New Hands
After reading the article, Josefa decided to stop fighting her nail biting and try a different approach. First, she spent a week simply noticing when the habit happened, without trying to stop it. She kept a small notebook and made a mark each time she caught herself biting, with a note about the situation. She found that it happened most often when she was concentrating on a difficult problem, when she was on the phone with an anxious client and when she was bored in front of the television.
She also noticed what the habit seemed to do for her. In stressful moments, it gave her a small sense of release. In boring moments, it gave her hands something to do. With this understanding, she looked for replacement behaviours that could meet the same needs. For stressful moments, she chose to hold a smooth stone that she kept in her pocket, rubbing it gently with her thumb. For concentrating, she began holding a pen in her hand. For watching television, she took up knitting, which kept her hands busy.
Josefa also changed some cues. She kept her nails short and smooth, using a nail file whenever she noticed a rough edge, because rough edges often started the biting. She moved the stone to her desk, next to the phone, so that it was there when anxious clients called. And when she noticed the urge to bite, she tried to watch it for a moment, noticing how it felt, rather than fighting it or giving in. Often, it passed within a minute or two, especially if her hands were busy with the stone.
The change was gradual. For the first few weeks, Josefa still bit her nails sometimes, especially during a busy period at work. But she no longer felt that she was failing, because she knew that the old habit was still there, underneath, and that she was building something new on top of it. After three months, she was biting her nails rarely. Her nails had grown, and she felt more confident in client meetings.
"I spent thirty years trying to stop," Josefa says. "It never worked, because I was only fighting. This time, I gave my hands something else to do, and I stopped fighting myself. It was much gentler, and it actually worked." She still keeps the smooth stone on her desk. Sometimes, during a difficult call, she notices that she is holding it without having decided to.
Hamish and the Interruptions
Hamish is sixty and works as a manager in a company that repairs agricultural machinery. He is experienced, knowledgeable and well liked. But he has a habit that his colleagues find frustrating: he interrupts people. In meetings and conversations, when someone else is speaking, he often jumps in with his own ideas before they have finished. He does not mean to be rude. The words come out before he has even thought about it.
Hamish's wife and several colleagues have pointed this out to him over the years. Each time, he has resolved to stop. And each time, in the next conversation, he has interrupted again. He has started to feel embarrassed and anxious in meetings, worrying so much about interrupting that he finds it hard to concentrate on what is being said. Sometimes, his worry makes him interrupt even more.
A coach whom his company had hired to work with its managers suggested a different approach. Instead of trying to stop interrupting, Hamish should give himself something specific to do when he felt the urge to speak while someone else was talking. The coach suggested that he write down his thought in a small notebook he would always carry, and then wait until the other person had finished. Writing would give the urge somewhere to go, and the notebook would reassure him that he would not forget his idea.
Hamish tried it. In the next meeting, whenever he felt the familiar urge to jump in, he wrote his thought in the notebook instead. It felt awkward at first, and sometimes he started to speak before he remembered. But within a few weeks, writing had become his automatic response to the urge. When the other person finished, he looked at his notes and chose whether to share his thought. Often, he found that the other person had already covered it, or that his thought was not as important as it had seemed in the moment.
His colleagues noticed the change quickly. Meetings became more balanced, and people felt more heard. Hamish himself felt calmer, because he no longer had to fight his urges. "I could not stop the urge," he says. "But I could change what I did with it. Writing it down was the answer. The idea is safe, and the other person gets to finish." Hamish's story shows that replacement works for social habits as well as physical ones.
It also shows the value of outside eyes. Hamish had never noticed how often he interrupted, because, from the inside, his interruptions felt like natural enthusiasm. It took his wife, his colleagues and finally a coach to help him see the pattern. Many of our habits, especially social ones, are easier for others to see than for us. Asking a trusted person to tell us what they notice, kindly and specifically, can be a valuable first step in changing them.
Lior and the News
Lior is thirty-five and works as a bookseller. Over the past few years, she has developed a habit of checking the news on her phone many times a day, especially when she feels anxious. She reads about crises, disasters and conflicts, and each time she feels worse. But the urge to check again comes back within minutes. She has tried deleting news apps, but she always finds another way to check.
Lior's habit has a strong feeling cue: anxiety. When she feels a flicker of worry, about anything, her hand reaches for her phone, as if checking the news will give her some control or certainty. It never does. Like Florin in Chapter 3, she is caught in a pattern of unpredictable rewards: occasionally, she finds a piece of reassuring or important news, which keeps her checking. But mostly, she finds things that make her more anxious, which triggers more checking.
Lior decided to try a combination of the approaches in this chapter. She did not try to stop thinking about the news, which she knew would make her think about it more. Instead, she chose a replacement behaviour for moments of anxiety: three slow breaths, followed by a glass of water. She also chose two fixed times a day, in the morning and the early evening, when she would read the news from one reliable source for fifteen minutes. At other times, when the urge came, she reminded herself of the next fixed time.
Lior also practised noticing the urge itself. When she felt the pull to check, she paused and paid attention to it: the tightness in her chest, the restless feeling in her hands. She noticed that if she waited, breathing slowly, the urge usually faded within a few minutes. This was surprising to her. She had always believed that the urge would grow until she gave in. In fact, it rose and fell, like a wave.
After two months, Lior was checking the news far less, and she felt noticeably calmer. She still followed important events, but in a way that informed her rather than overwhelmed her. "I thought checking the news was keeping me informed," she says. "Mostly, it was keeping me anxious." It is worth adding that if anxiety is frequent or intense, and affects daily life, it is wise to talk to a doctor or another qualified professional. Lior did this as well, and found the conversation helpful.
Practical Steps: Changing Habits Gently
The first step is to stop fighting and start observing. For one week, notice when the habit happens, without trying to stop it. Write down the situation and what the habit seems to do for you. Understanding the habit is more useful than battling it.
The second step is to choose a replacement. Find a behaviour that can meet the same need as the habit, in the same situation. If the habit gives your hands something to do, find another activity for your hands. If it gives relief from stress, find another way to release tension. If it gives you a break, find another kind of break. The replacement should be easy to do in the situation where the habit usually happens.
The third step is to make an if-then plan for the replacement. Using the method from Chapter 7, decide in advance: "If I notice the urge to [habit], then I will [replacement]." This links the cue to the new response, so that the new behaviour can become automatic over time.
The fourth step is to change the cues where you can. Remove or reduce the triggers for the habit, as we saw in Chapters 2 and 6. Keep your nails smooth, carry a notebook, schedule news times, move temptations out of reach. Fewer cues mean fewer urges.
The fifth step is to watch the wave. When an urge arrives, try observing it for a minute or two, noticing how it feels in your body, without acting on it or fighting it. Many people find that urges peak and then fade. Each time you watch an urge pass without acting on it, the link between the cue and the old habit may weaken a little.
The sixth step is to expect the old habit to return sometimes. Remember that old habits are rarely erased, only overlaid. If the old habit returns, especially under stress or in old places, do not conclude that you have failed. Return to your replacement as soon as you can. Each return strengthens the new habit.
When the Old Habit Comes Back
One of the most discouraging experiences in breaking a habit is when it comes back after a period of success. Many people interpret this as proof that they have failed, that all their work was wasted and that they might as well give up. The science described in this chapter suggests a different view. Old habits are stored in the brain alongside new ones. Under certain conditions, especially stress, tiredness or a return to old situations, the old habit may reappear. This is a normal feature of how learning works, not a sign of personal weakness.
Knowing this can make returns less frightening. If Josefa bites her nails during a stressful week, she can recognize that the old habit has surfaced and return to her stone, rather than abandoning her efforts. Each time she does so, the new response gains strength. Over time, the returns usually become less frequent and less strong. We will look more closely at how to handle such lapses in Chapter 13.
It is also important to say that some habits are much harder to change than others, and some patterns of behaviour are not ordinary habits at all. Severe nail biting, hair pulling or skin picking that causes injury or distress, compulsive behaviours that a person feels driven to repeat and addictions to substances or activities can involve the brain in more complex ways and may need specialized help. If you have struggled with such a pattern for a long time, or if it is harming your health or wellbeing, please talk to a doctor or another qualified professional. Effective help exists, and you do not need to face it alone.
A Short Exercise: Replace, Do Not Erase
This exercise helps you plan a gentle approach to changing one unwanted habit. It takes about twenty minutes, plus a week of observation.
Choose one habit you would like to change. For one week, observe it without trying to stop it. Each time it happens, note the situation: where, when, with whom, what you were doing and how you felt. At the end of the week, look for patterns, and write down the two or three most common situations.
For each common situation, ask: what does the habit do for me here? Write down the need it seems to meet: relief, comfort, something for my hands, a break, a feeling of control. Then, for each need, choose a replacement behaviour that could meet it in the same situation. Make sure the replacement is easy, available and, if possible, incompatible with the old habit.
Write an if-then plan for each situation: "If I am [situation] and notice the urge to [habit], then I will [replacement]." Then write one change you could make to reduce the cues for the habit. Finally, write one sentence to say to yourself if the old habit returns: for example, "The old habit is still there underneath. I will go back to my replacement."
Try your plans for the next few weeks, noticing what happens. Adjust the replacements if they do not seem to meet the need. Josefa's plan had three situations: "concentrating", "anxious phone calls" and "watching television". Her replacements were "pen in hand", "smooth stone" and "knitting". Her sentence for returns was: "Thirty years of habit does not disappear in a month. Back to the stone."
Chapter Summary
Fighting a habit head-on often backfires. Classic research on trying not to think about something suggests that suppression can keep the forbidden thought close and make it return, especially when we are tired or stressed. Habits are links between cues and responses that are rarely erased; studies of learning, mostly in animals, suggest that new learning overlays old learning, which can return under stress, after time or in old places. A better approach is usually to replace the habit with a new response to the same cue that meets the same need, to change the cues where possible and to notice that urges tend to rise and fall like waves.
Josefa and her nail biting, Hamish and his interruptions and Lior and her news checking all found that replacing rather than fighting, changing cues and watching urges pass worked far better than willpower alone. When old habits return, it is a normal feature of learning, not proof of failure. Severe, compulsive or addictive patterns deserve specialized help.
In the next chapter, we will look at two things that strongly affect all our habits, good and bad: sleep and stress.