Autumn: Hey everyone, and welcome back! Today, we're diving deep into something we all think we understand: our emotions. But get this—what if anger, love, even excitement aren’t just hardwired into our brains? Rachel: Hold on a sec, Autumn. Are you saying that all those times I’ve blamed my genes for losing it in traffic, I might have been completely wrong? Autumn: Precisely, Rachel. The book we're looking at today really turns the traditional understanding on its head. Instead of emotions being these universal, pre-programmed reactions, it proposes that our emotions are actually constructed. Your brain isn't just reacting; it's predicting, proactively drawing on past experiences, cultural context, and even the people around you to essentially create your feelings in the moment. Rachel: So, emotions are like some kind of custom cocktail my brain's constantly mixing up. You're telling me my brain is basically a mixologist concocting emotions on the fly? Autumn: Exactly! And this has some really significant implications in the real world. Today, we'll be focusing on three main ideas. First, we'll break down how your brain—this "mixologist"—actually puts together emotions, using ingredients like memories, physical sensations, and even the language you use. Next, we’ll explore how different cultures provide their own unique recipes for how emotions are expressed and understood. And finally, we'll look at how this theory changes the way we approach things like mental health, managing our emotions, and even how justice is served. Rachel: Wow, so we're talking about everything from understanding our feelings in therapy, to figuring out how a smile can be a sign of embarrassment instead of happiness, depending on what part of the world you're in? Autumn: Absolutely. Prepare to question everything you thought you knew about emotions, and maybe even pick up a few new strategies for understanding them along the way.

Autumn: Okay, Rachel, so let’s kick things off by tackling what we think we know about emotions. I mean, most of us grew up thinking that emotions – you know, like happiness, anger, fear – were pretty much the same for everyone, right? Like, built into our biology. So, a smile always means happiness, surely? Rachel: That’s the picture I always had in my head. Smile equals happy, frown equals sad, shouting equals mad. Aren’t these things just hardwired into us? Autumn: That's the classic view, yeah. It assumes that emotions are these automatic, universal reactions, each with its own specific set of physical changes in your body. But here’s the thing: studies across different cultures have shown that it's not quite as clear-cut as we thought. A smile isn’t always a sign of happiness. Sometimes it's just politeness, or even a bit of discomfort, depending on where you are. Rachel: So, if I go around grinning like an idiot in the wrong place, I might get some really weird reactions? Autumn: Exactly! And it's not just about facial expressions. Even things like your heart rate don't always link directly to one specific emotion. Your heart might race with joy at a concert, with fear during a scary movie, or with anger when you’re arguing. It's all about context. The body's signals are flexible, not emotion-specific. Rachel: Okay, the examples totally make sense, Autumn. But it does leave me wondering, if emotions aren’t these ready-made, universal things, then how do we actually feel anything? Autumn: That's where the "theory of constructed emotion" comes in. Instead of reacting like some kind of machine, your brain is constantly predicting what’s going on. It uses your past, what your body’s telling it, and what you know about the world to make up what you're feeling in that moment. Think of it as a kind of ongoing simulation. Say you hear footsteps behind you in a dark alley. Your brain doesn’t wait around. It uses past experiences and figures, uh oh, possible danger. And boom, it creates fear. Rachel: Hold on – so is my brain running, like, a highlight reel of past events and hitting "play" on the one that seems closest to what's happening now? Then, hey presto, out pops an emotion? Autumn: Precisely. It's built on those predictive processes. Your brain takes in sensory data – that sound of footsteps – and combines it with signals from inside your body, like your heart racing, and then adds in the context. Dark alley? Fear. Jogging track? Maybe excitement. It's like your brain is creating a narrative, and that “plot” creates the emotion. Rachel: Wow, okay, so my brain's basically a storyteller. But if it's a story, surely culture plays a huge role in dictating the types of stories my brain even has available to work with? Autumn: Absolutely right, Rachel. Building emotions is hugely influenced by culture and language. Think of it as your brain having an emotional "menu." In cultures where there’s no specific word for "frustration," for example, people might just group that feeling with anger. But in English, we can name "frustration," giving it a unique spot on the menu. That difference can be pretty big. Rachel: Okay, now you’ve got me thinking about how different cultures "label" emotions. Can you give me an example where this difference has really struck researchers? Autumn: Sure. Take the Himba people of Namibia, for example. Their ideas about emotions are very tied to their community lifestyle, and they often see emotions differently than we do in the West. Show them situations or faces that Westerners would automatically say show "fear," and they might see something completely different. Their culture gives them a set of emotional categories that makes sense for their way of life, not ours. Rachel: So, emotions being "universal" is out. And it sounds like they're dictated partly by our stories, our culture, our vocabulary. That's big. How does my brain stitch together culture, sensations, and past experiences into something that feels so...real? Autumn: That's where we look at interoception. It’s like your body has its own "speaker" that your brain is tuned into, constantly monitoring things like heart rate, breathing, or digestion. These signals mix with what you see, hear, and smell to create an emotional "package." Imagine you’re in a meeting, and your muscles are tight, your heart is racing, and you’re breathing fast. Without knowing it, your brain might call this stress or anxiety, even if the meeting itself isn't objectively stressful. Rachel: But that same sweaty, tense feeling could mean something completely different if – I don’t know – I was walking into a surprise party? Autumn: Exactly. It’s not the raw sensations that matter, but how your brain understands them based on the situation. That's why two people in the same elevator might feel completely different emotions. Your brain gives the signals meaning, according to the "story" it expects to see. Rachel: This prediction – it's happening all the time? Like, right now while I'm listening to you explaining this and thinking about how it feels? Autumn: Non-stop. The brain is always predicting, adjusting, and fine-tuning. And understanding helps explain why emotions feel so personal. They're tied to personal history, habits, and surroundings. The implications are huge for everything from mental health to how we communicate across cultures. Rachel: Right, this explains a lot. But honestly, Autumn, it’s also a little intimidating. If my emotions are this dynamic, this…constructed… how do I even begin to get a handle on them? Where does emotional regulation even start?

Autumn: That's a “really” insightful question, Rachel, and it actually leads us straight to a crucial part of this theory: the neuroscience behind emotional regulation, especially the ideas of body budgeting and interoception. This whole shift from seeing emotions as fixed things to understanding them as constructed ones kind of forces us to look at how the brain dynamically orchestrates them. And that really starts with grasping the brain’s predictive nature and how it connects to our internal bodily states. Rachel: Predictive nature, huh? Okay, let me see if I've got this right. Are you basically saying my brain isn't just reacting to what’s happening right now, but it’s like… constantly running an emotional simulation, like a guessing game based on past experiences, physical sensations, and my surroundings? Autumn: It's more than just a guess, think of your brain as a super analytical CEO. It’s managing the company's budget—except the company is your body. Your brain is constantly predicting what resources you'll need – whether it's glucose, oxygen, rest – and adjusting things accordingly. And this prediction thing isn't just for physical stuff; it bleeds into emotions, too, because they're so tightly linked to the body budget. So, basically, if your body's feeling depleted or stressed, your brain is more likely to predict and construct emotions like anxiety or even just plain old irritability. Rachel: So, you're saying my emotions are being shaped by my body’s, uh, "spreadsheet" of energy reserves? Whether I've eaten, slept, or been pulling all-nighters for weeks? Autumn: Exactly! And the brain's job in keeping that "body budget" balanced, is really central to how emotions are constructed. Which is where interoception comes in. Interoception is basically how your brain reads those internal signals – like a racing heart, a growling stomach. It uses these signals to predict your current state. Then, based on that input, boom, it constructs an emotional experience. Like, if you're super tired and your heart's pounding, your brain might interpret that as frustration when you're struggling with a task. But, if you're well-rested, those same signals might be excitement. Rachel: Hang on, so, if I understand you correctly, my brain could be, like, flip-flopping between interpreting the same pounding heart as excitement one day and frustration the next, all depending on how flush my "energy ledger" is looking? Autumn: That's it, Rachel! So, here's a really clear example: think about someone dealing with chronic stress, like serious money problems. Their body budget is constantly in the red. They're tired all the time, their stress hormones, like cortisol, are sky-high, and, yeah, they probably have tension headaches or digestive issues. All these physical signals can nudge the brain into predicting emotions like anxiety or despair making them feel stuck. It becomes a vicious cycle, with the stress draining the brain’s ability to regulate emotions effectively. Rachel: Right, so chronic stress isn't just feeling a bit frazzled. It's actually… rewiring the brain to make negative emotions the go-to reaction? Autumn: Exactly. Chronic stress impacts key areas in the brain that are involved in emotional regulation, like the prefrontal cortex and the amygdala. Studies have shown that long-term stress can actually shrink the areas responsible for higher-level emotional control while boosting activity in regions linked to reactive emotions, like fear or anxiety. That kind of messes with the brain’s predictive accuracy and makes it harder to adjust or recalibrate emotional experiences. Rachel: Okay, so let’s say stress has already done some rewiring for the worse. How do we actually recalibrate? I mean, how do we get this body budget back into the black? Autumn: Great question! So, recalibration really means focusing on strategies that sharpen our interoception and improve body budgeting. One powerful example is mindfulness-based stress reduction, or MBSR. Studies have shown that this actually enhances your interoceptive awareness. So, practices like deep breathing or body scans help your brain tune into those internal states more accurately, signaling safety instead of threat. And that shift alone can move the brain’s predictions away from stress-driven emotions and towards something more constructive. Rachel: So, deep breathing isn’t just some cliché wellness gimmick, but it’s sending my brain data that my body’s okay and there’s no need to freak out or construct panic? Autumn: Exactly! It’s like resetting the predictive machinery by feeding your brain clear, non-threatening information. And another approach is emotional granularity. That means expanding your vocabulary to precisely label emotions. For example, just distinguishing between "being overwhelmed" and "feeling irritable" might seem subtle, but it helps the brain really refine its predictions. Research actually shows that people with high emotional granularity are better at handling stress because they understand their emotional states in more detail, which enables better solutions, better responses. Rachel: Okay, so mindfulness and emotional vocabulary are key tools here. But how does all this connect to bigger, more complex situations, like dealing with extreme trauma or even just major life transitions? Autumn: Great segue, Rachel! Because this theory is so powerful when we apply it to complex scenarios like trauma recovery. Think about soldiers returning from war. Their brains have become wired to predict danger in those high-stress environments, and when they come home, those predictions don’t just switch off. So, something innocent, like fireworks, might trigger fear or hypervigilance. Therapies that focus on recalibrating these predictions, like cognitive behavioral therapy, help people reinterpret those interoceptive signals and adjust their body budgets for less reactive emotions. Rachel: It’s really remarkable – and, honestly, a little unsettling – how so much depends on whether our brain is "guessing" right or wrong about these signals. Autumn: It is remarkable, Rachel. But this adaptability is also empowering because recognizing that emotions are constructed means we're not just victims of them. We can take concrete steps to improve our emotional health, like building self-awareness, managing stress, and taking care of our physical well-being. The brain's flexibility, and its reliance on body budgeting, gives us real power to shape the way we feel and respond. Rachel: And that’s huge. It’s like, realizing that you’re not just strapped into the rollercoaster of your emotions, but you actually have a say in designing the track. This whole understanding of interoception, and the body budget, it just shifts so much about how we think about feelings, whether it’s everyday stress or dealing with more extreme situations. So, where do we go from here? Is this theory starting to influence broader systems beyond just personal health? Autumn: Absolutely, Rachel. Think about how this plays out in areas like healthcare or even when we're talking about cross-cultural communication. If emotions really are constructed rather than automatic, then it changes the way we need to approach empathy and decision-making in those fields. So, understanding emotional construction isn’t just about self-regulation. It’s about shaping systems that support collective emotional resilience.

Autumn: You know, when we start digging into the neuroscience of emotions, it naturally leads us to think about how culture and society shape them too. I mean, if our brains are building emotions, then the cultural and linguistic “materials” we give them are super important. So, today, let's unpack the cultural and social angles of emotions. We’ll start with the idea that emotional concepts are actually built by society. From there, we'll look at how language and just growing up in a culture fine-tunes our emotional awareness. And finally, we'll examine how shared societal norms – what we call collective intentionality – shape how we experience emotions. Rachel: Okay, so we're not just talking about my internal feelings anymore. We're zooming out to see how culture, language, norms – everything around me – mixes in to define what I feel? Autumn: Precisely. Let’s kick off with the idea that the emotions we think we know aren’t universal truths hardwired into us. They're more like products of the culture and society we're in. Emotional experiences are actively molded by shared cultural norms, the labels we use, and the values of the groups we belong to. And here’s where it gets interesting: if you grew up in a totally different cultural setting, your whole emotional landscape—what you feel, when, and how you show it—could be completely different. Rachel: Okay, you've got my attention. Can you give me a concrete example? Something where these cultural differences in emotional concepts really jump out? Autumn: Absolutely. Take the Dutch concept of gezellig. It's deeply rooted in Dutch culture, and it refers to a specific kind of coziness, warmth, or being together socially. Now, in English, we might use words like “cozy” or “companionship,” but none of those “really” capture the unique Dutch meaning behind gezellig. It’s more than just the physical comfort of being with others – it also carries a deeper cultural ideal of connection and harmony. Rachel: So, what I call “coziness” is just scratching the surface. Gezellig has this whole cultural backdrop that makes it more than just a word, right? It's almost like an emotional state embedded in Dutch values? Autumn: Exactly! And there's more. Lots of cultures have their own unique emotional ideas that don’t translate directly into English. For instance, in Japan, there’s amae, which is the feeling of depending on other people’s kindness – like the bond between a child and a parent. In some Indigenous languages, there are specific emotional concepts that show our connection to nature or the community. These differences remind us that our emotional vocabulary is like a cultural toolkit, shaping how we see and even feel our feelings. Rachel: Okay, so words themselves have an influence on how we feel? If my language doesn't have a word for something, does that mean I can't feel it? Or do I just not recognize it? Autumn: That's a great question. Studies show that if you have a word for a feeling, it makes it easier to spot, talk about, and even experience it. Without the word, the feeling might be there, but it's sort of vague and harder to understand. For example, lots of cultures have words for subtle emotional experiences that Western societies might just lump together under "sadness" or "anger." The way we name emotions gives them shape, allowing us to work with them and even feel them more clearly. Rachel: So it’s kind of like trying to paint without all the colors you need. If I'm stuck with just red and blue, I miss out on all the shades I could discover with a full spectrum. Autumn: Exactly! And that brings up a cool study on the Himba people in Namibia. Researchers found that the Himba understand emotional expressions and situations differently from Westerners. For example, Westerners might immediately see a furrowed brow and think fear or anxiety, but the Himba might see it as something completely different, like concentration. Their emotional categories reflect their cultural values and shared experiences, which are very different from ours. Rachel: Wait a minute—so their brain’s "menu" for emotions is just set up differently than ours? And this changes how they actually perceive something like fear? Autumn: Absolutely. The Himba example “really” challenges the idea that emotions like fear or sadness are universal. Cultures that put more emphasis on living as a community, for example, might not even think about certain emotions the same way we do because they experience situations differently. Not having certain stresses – or having strong community support – might make emotions like fear less important or change how they’re expressed. Rachel: This is seriously mind-blowing. If our emotional experiences are this tied to culture, it feels like we’ve been oversimplifying emotions all along. But where does all this start? Do we just absorb it from living in a certain culture, or do we actually teach emotions? Autumn: That's a crucial point, Rachel. And this brings us to the role of language and socialization in shaping emotional constructs. When children grow up, they don’t just “know” what sadness or joy feels like – they learn it. Caregivers, peers, and society at large guide children to label, differentiate, and make sense of their feelings. Emotional granularity—the ability to identify and name subtle emotional states—develops through this process. Rachel: Okay, let's break it down. Kids don't come out of the womb thinking, "Ah, I’m mildly irritated by the lack of snacks." So how do they learn all the nuances of emotions like frustration, annoyance, or anger? Autumn: Let’s take a hypothetical teenager – let’s call her Sophia. When Sophia first starts to feel anger, she might lump all types of it together. But with guidance – say, a parent points out the difference between feeling "irritated" by noisy neighbors versus feeling "resentful" after being treated unfairly – Sophia’s emotional vocabulary grows. Now she doesn't just know she's angry, she knows what kind of angry she's feeling, and why. Rachel: So, learning all these terms – resentment, irritation, annoyance – actually changes how Sophia processes anger itself? Autumn: Exactly. Emotional vocabulary doesn’t just help you describe emotions – it shapes how you experience them. When Sophia can pinpoint “irritation,” for example, she knows it’s something temporary and actionable, like dealing with a minor annoyance. But feeling “resentful” might clue her in to deeper dynamics, like injustice or betrayal, and that might make her approach the situation differently. Rachel: Wait, are you telling me that, besides making me sound like I have a working thesaurus, labeling my emotions can actually help me handle them better? Autumn: That’s exactly what research shows. People with a granular emotional vocabulary are better at regulating their emotions because they can create more targeted responses. Instead of just being “angry” across the board, they know how to address specific issues – whether that's resolving a frustration or unpacking deeper resentment. It's like having a GPS to navigate your feelings. Rachel: So, language doesn't just describe emotions—it's actually molding the landscape of our emotions as we go. But what happens when emotional language gets tangled up with society’s broader expectations? Like, I’m picturing moments when you’re almost “programmed” to respond a certain way. Autumn: Great segue, Rachel. That ties right into the next layer: collective intentionality. This is the idea that shared societal norms give structure and meaning to our emotional experiences. A powerful example is remorse. In Western legal systems, a public display of regret can completely change how someone is seen, often leading to lighter sentences. But in cultures where showing your emotions is considered undignified, that same behavior might seem inappropriate or even suspicious. Rachel: So a courtroom full of Western people might look at someone crying on the stand and think, "Wow, they’re really remorseful," while another culture might see the same tears and think, "What's their angle?" Autumn: Exactly. These collective agreements dictate how emotions are understood and even what behaviors are expected in certain situations. Grief is another good example. In Western cultures, grief is often seen as a deeply private emotion, while in more collectivist societies, it might involve communal rituals that emphasize shared sorrow and healing. Both are expressions of grief, but their meanings and practices are shaped by cultural scripts. Rachel: Fascinating. It’s like emotions don't just exist—they're also playing roles that fit into the cultural script. And if you step outside the script, people might not even recognize what you’re trying to express. Autumn: That’s exactly it, Rachel. Recognizing that emotions are shaped by culture, language, and shared norms opens the door to understanding emotions not as fixed reactions but as tools for navigating a shared social reality. This perspective not only expands our appreciation of emotional diversity but also fosters empathy in cross-cultural contexts, helping bridge divides in an interconnected world.

Autumn: Okay, Rachel, let's wrap this up. Today, we dove deep into the theory of constructed emotion, which “really” turns the traditional view of emotions on its head. Instead of being these universal, hardwired reactions, we've discovered that emotions are actually dynamic creations of the brain. They’re shaped by our predictions, our past experiences, and even the cultural context we’re in. Rachel: Right. So, it’s not just like, "Oh, I feel sad," but more like, "My brain is creating this experience of sadness based on a whole bunch of factors." Autumn: Precisely! We looked at how the brain uses interoception and predictive processing to orchestrate these emotions, how cultural norms and language influence our emotional world, and even how things like justice systems are affected by these constructions. The big takeaway here is that emotions aren't just things that happen to us; they’re things we actively build, moment to moment. Rachel: And that's a pretty powerful realization, isn't it? It suggests that we're not just passive recipients of our emotions. We actually have some agency here, right? Autumn: Exactly. It means we have the ability to shape, interpret, and regulate our emotions. We can use tools like mindfulness, emotional granularity—that ability to “really” pinpoint exactly what we're feeling—and even just being aware of the cultural influences that play a role. Rachel: Okay, so how do we put this into practice? I mean, it's great in theory, but what's a concrete step someone could take to start applying this? Autumn: Well, here’s a challenge for our listeners: start paying attention to how your interpretations influence your emotions. The next time you feel something strong, just pause for a moment. Ask yourself—what signals is my brain actually receiving, and how is it interpreting those signals based on the context I'm in? It's a “really” powerful first step toward gaining some “real” emotional control. Rachel: Interesting. So, it's about recognizing that there's a gap between the raw data and the emotional story we tell ourselves. We have the ability to influence the story, right? Autumn: Absolutely. Well said, Rachel. Emotions aren’t just happening to us—they’re constructed with meaning, intention, and context. Time to embrace the chef, storyteller, and architect inside our brains. Rachel: I like that. We're not just feeling beings; we're emotional architects. Autumn: That’s it for today. Thanks for joining us as we deconstructed emotions. Take care, and until next time, start building better feelings.