and one slowly (worrier). Usually, dopamine is a good thing. Having more there for as long as possible is better for concentration. ADHD drugs are all about dopamine. So it makes sense that the worrier gene variation leaving dopamine in our brains longer, leads to higher IQs. Again—less dopamine means those warriors typically have more difficulty trying to concentrate. Here’s the COMT conundrum, though. When stress kicks in, our bodies make dopamine fast. It floods our cortex. And too much dopamine does not make for better concentration or risk-taking ability; it overwhelms our brains, causing a sort of stress shutdown. Suddenly, the tables are turned. The genetic variation that removes the dopamine the most slowly, in that moment, the worrier variation, is not a good thing, because it contributes to that shutdown.
So, under stressful situations, the genetic benefits and deficits are reversed. This explains why the extremely focused and responsible worker bees can turn around and choke on tough exams or in other high-risk situations. And why more generally low-key personalities suddenly rise to a specific challenge. In fact, they thrive. They actually need some stress to do their best. Think of the star athletes who impress mainly in the heat of the game. Or, closer to home, of journalists who work well only under intense deadline pressure.
We immediately saw a connection to confidence in the way this variant of the COMT gene might encourage paradoxical behavior. There’s actually science behind why self-assurance can appear to be situation-specific. You know, lawyers who are brilliant at preparing briefs, but can’t fathom arguing in court. Or the marketing executives who can’t get motivated to do the routine tasks their jobs require, but then spring into action just before the monthly presentation, pull all-nighters and come up with winning concepts. To some extent, those people are simply built that way.
We were starting to see how all of these hormones lay the groundwork we need in order to experience confidence. When dopamine, which gets us moving, is commingled with serotonin, which induces calm thought, and oxytocin, which generates warm and positive attitudes toward others, confidence can much more easily take hold.
It was at about this point in our research that we both became insatiably curious about our own genetics and started to speculate, pretty unscientifically, about our DNA. We’ve tried for years to untangle our own operational paradoxes. Why is it that we rebel against deadlines, for example, but need them to produce our best work? And yet we’re also both fairly cautious about being prepared, and inclined to fall into perfectionism. So are we warriors or worriers? Do we have trouble concentrating except under extreme pressure? And how can we have achieved what we have in our careers, and be writing a book about confidence, and still feel anxiety in an interview? Are we short on serotonin? And what would we do with that information if we had it?
Claire figured she is high in oxytocin, and Katty agreed with that self-assessment. “I crave affection, contact, and intimacy, and tend, to a fault, to view the world around me with the rosiest of lenses. It can cloud my judgment sometimes,” Claire admitted. “But I’m guessing I’m low in serotonin, because I can be quite anxious. I’ve struggled with it over the years, and my parents both suffered from depression. I think my overall makeup would not add up to a highly confident genetic profile. I’ve probably created whatever confidence I have.”
We were both certain that Katty is a warrior. From Claire’s point of view especially, Katty thrives on risk and challenge. “I figure I’m also pretty high in serotonin—I’m not overly anxious,” says Katty, “but I don’t think I have the warm and fuzzy oxytocin gene. I’m fairly matter-of-fact.”
We went back and forth in this vein for a few weeks, debating a move that neither of us
So, under stressful situations, the genetic benefits and deficits are reversed. This explains why the extremely focused and responsible worker bees can turn around and choke on tough exams or in other high-risk situations. And why more generally low-key personalities suddenly rise to a specific challenge. In fact, they thrive. They actually need some stress to do their best. Think of the star athletes who impress mainly in the heat of the game. Or, closer to home, of journalists who work well only under intense deadline pressure.
We immediately saw a connection to confidence in the way this variant of the COMT gene might encourage paradoxical behavior. There’s actually science behind why self-assurance can appear to be situation-specific. You know, lawyers who are brilliant at preparing briefs, but can’t fathom arguing in court. Or the marketing executives who can’t get motivated to do the routine tasks their jobs require, but then spring into action just before the monthly presentation, pull all-nighters and come up with winning concepts. To some extent, those people are simply built that way.
We were starting to see how all of these hormones lay the groundwork we need in order to experience confidence. When dopamine, which gets us moving, is commingled with serotonin, which induces calm thought, and oxytocin, which generates warm and positive attitudes toward others, confidence can much more easily take hold.
It was at about this point in our research that we both became insatiably curious about our own genetics and started to speculate, pretty unscientifically, about our DNA. We’ve tried for years to untangle our own operational paradoxes. Why is it that we rebel against deadlines, for example, but need them to produce our best work? And yet we’re also both fairly cautious about being prepared, and inclined to fall into perfectionism. So are we warriors or worriers? Do we have trouble concentrating except under extreme pressure? And how can we have achieved what we have in our careers, and be writing a book about confidence, and still feel anxiety in an interview? Are we short on serotonin? And what would we do with that information if we had it?
Claire figured she is high in oxytocin, and Katty agreed with that self-assessment. “I crave affection, contact, and intimacy, and tend, to a fault, to view the world around me with the rosiest of lenses. It can cloud my judgment sometimes,” Claire admitted. “But I’m guessing I’m low in serotonin, because I can be quite anxious. I’ve struggled with it over the years, and my parents both suffered from depression. I think my overall makeup would not add up to a highly confident genetic profile. I’ve probably created whatever confidence I have.”
We were both certain that Katty is a warrior. From Claire’s point of view especially, Katty thrives on risk and challenge. “I figure I’m also pretty high in serotonin—I’m not overly anxious,” says Katty, “but I don’t think I have the warm and fuzzy oxytocin gene. I’m fairly matter-of-fact.”
We went back and forth in this vein for a few weeks, debating a move that neither of us
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