The Problem of Catastrophizing
The Compulsive Imagining of Worst-Case Scenarios
There is a difference between (1) a healthy regard for possible catastrophes, so that we seize alternatives to disaster before it is too late, and (2) a compulsive tendency to worry about worst-case scenarios, so that we are immobilized and depressed. Think of the former as catastrophic thinking and the latter as catastrophizing. One difference between the two is that healthy, catastrophic thinking can be combined with joy, playfulness, and gratitude for beauty, while catastrophizing is isolated and self-contained. I want to put in a word for catastrophic thinking without catastrophizing.
When it comes to personal disasters, catastrophizing is almost always counter-productive. We cannot find our way into promising futures, if we are obsessed with negative futures. However, when it comes to images of the world, catastrophizing can seem more plausible. After all, the circumstances that give rise to catastrophic thinking are multiple: global climate change, the threat of nuclear war, violence at home and abroad, widespread environmental destruction, a wholesale abuse of animals, widening gaps between rich and poor, a breakdown of community life, the rise of authoritarian governments, the abuse of power, and the debilitating effects of a consumerism. When these images are combined, it can seem as if the future, if not absolutely catastrophic, is very, very bleak indeed - and those who will suffer the most are the poor and powerless. The world feels like a train headed toward a cliff. Some on the train, namely those in first class, are enjoying the ride, oblivious to the end or, worse, indifferent to the end. But the train itself is headed for disaster. Time to catastrophize!
Catastrophizing is emotionally complex. It feels safe, giving us a sense that we have partial control over an uncertain future, and it feels honest, because the likelihood of disaster is great. There is a strange kind of security in knowing that the future is bleak, and this security is often accompanied by anger or sadness. We are angry with others who don't catastrophize with us, because they are hiding from a truth we think they ought to recognize. And we can become very sad, because they others seem so blind to the catastrophe we anticipate. The anger or sadness are also mixed with hope. If the world is like a train headed for disaster, the tracks are not entirely fixed. We carry in our minds a hope, however dim, that things can be different. Catastrophizing is thus proportional. It can be 90 percent worry and 10 percent hope. Worry has the upper hand, but hope dwells eternal in the human heart.
The problem with catastrophizing is that it is maladaptive. It can stifle healthy hope; inhibit constructive action; increase unnecessary anxiety, and become a self-fulfilling prophecy. It takes a personal toll, too. If we are overwhelmed by a tendency to catastrophize, we find ourselves unable to laugh, to play, to rest, to enjoy beauty, and to relate to others in joyful, kindly ways. We become a burden to others, and we sometimes become the catastrophes we seek to avoid.
The need, then, is twofold. It is (1) to imagine and respond to worst-case scenarios in an honest way, and (2) to avoid the tendency to focus on these scenarios at the expense of appreciating the simple beauties of life, which transcend the catastrophes.
The idea that simple beauties of life transcend catastrophes makes no sense to people who think that enduring objects are the fundamental units of life or that something can be of value only if it endures. But those of us influenced by Whitehead's organic philosophy reject these two ideas. We believe that the fundamental units of life are felt relationships, not substances, and that these relationships have value even if they do not endure through time.
Even if catastrophes lie ahead, there is value in the present moment: in friendships, in the beauty of nature, in music, in children. Moreover, add process theologians, the universe includes an inclusive life, God, who remembers and retains all the beauty in the tenderness of a love that never dies. Truth be told, it is our gratitude for this beauty that is the source of honest, catastrophic thinking. We would not care about the future so much, if we did not love the world. Healthy catastrophic thinking, as distinct from compulsive catastrophizing, is companion to joy.
- Jay McDaniel
When it comes to personal disasters, catastrophizing is almost always counter-productive. We cannot find our way into promising futures, if we are obsessed with negative futures. However, when it comes to images of the world, catastrophizing can seem more plausible. After all, the circumstances that give rise to catastrophic thinking are multiple: global climate change, the threat of nuclear war, violence at home and abroad, widespread environmental destruction, a wholesale abuse of animals, widening gaps between rich and poor, a breakdown of community life, the rise of authoritarian governments, the abuse of power, and the debilitating effects of a consumerism. When these images are combined, it can seem as if the future, if not absolutely catastrophic, is very, very bleak indeed - and those who will suffer the most are the poor and powerless. The world feels like a train headed toward a cliff. Some on the train, namely those in first class, are enjoying the ride, oblivious to the end or, worse, indifferent to the end. But the train itself is headed for disaster. Time to catastrophize!
Catastrophizing is emotionally complex. It feels safe, giving us a sense that we have partial control over an uncertain future, and it feels honest, because the likelihood of disaster is great. There is a strange kind of security in knowing that the future is bleak, and this security is often accompanied by anger or sadness. We are angry with others who don't catastrophize with us, because they are hiding from a truth we think they ought to recognize. And we can become very sad, because they others seem so blind to the catastrophe we anticipate. The anger or sadness are also mixed with hope. If the world is like a train headed for disaster, the tracks are not entirely fixed. We carry in our minds a hope, however dim, that things can be different. Catastrophizing is thus proportional. It can be 90 percent worry and 10 percent hope. Worry has the upper hand, but hope dwells eternal in the human heart.
The problem with catastrophizing is that it is maladaptive. It can stifle healthy hope; inhibit constructive action; increase unnecessary anxiety, and become a self-fulfilling prophecy. It takes a personal toll, too. If we are overwhelmed by a tendency to catastrophize, we find ourselves unable to laugh, to play, to rest, to enjoy beauty, and to relate to others in joyful, kindly ways. We become a burden to others, and we sometimes become the catastrophes we seek to avoid.
The need, then, is twofold. It is (1) to imagine and respond to worst-case scenarios in an honest way, and (2) to avoid the tendency to focus on these scenarios at the expense of appreciating the simple beauties of life, which transcend the catastrophes.
The idea that simple beauties of life transcend catastrophes makes no sense to people who think that enduring objects are the fundamental units of life or that something can be of value only if it endures. But those of us influenced by Whitehead's organic philosophy reject these two ideas. We believe that the fundamental units of life are felt relationships, not substances, and that these relationships have value even if they do not endure through time.
Even if catastrophes lie ahead, there is value in the present moment: in friendships, in the beauty of nature, in music, in children. Moreover, add process theologians, the universe includes an inclusive life, God, who remembers and retains all the beauty in the tenderness of a love that never dies. Truth be told, it is our gratitude for this beauty that is the source of honest, catastrophic thinking. We would not care about the future so much, if we did not love the world. Healthy catastrophic thinking, as distinct from compulsive catastrophizing, is companion to joy.
- Jay McDaniel