Alone: Australia and learned hopefulness

What watching the reality series has taught me about energy, hope, and control.

We've been watching Alone: Australia, the reality TV series in which participants are dropped in a remote location, by themselves (obvs), in mid-to-late autumn, with some personal clothing, 10 survival items (think fishing hooks, axe, ferro rod for fire-starting, sleeping bag, extra tarp, etc.) and the conviction they’ve got what it takes to stay out in the wild longer than anyone else. The official grand prize is $250,000 AUD, but no matter how long they stay, it seems every contestant comes away with profound insights into themselves, their priorities, and what they’re capable of.

The show began in North America, with the first season taking place on northern Vancouver Island. In fact, of the original show’s 12 seasons, only 3 have taken place outside of Canada. I wanted to watch the Australian version because I imagined survivalists in the outback and was so curious to see how they would feed and shelter themselves in desert and grassland conditions. Instead of the outback, though, Alone: Australia takes place in either western Lutruwita (Tasmania, seasons 1 and 3) or the South Island of New Zealand with Aussie contestants (season 2); still, unrelentingly wild and unforgiving territory.

Over the course of up to almost 80 days, participants deal with cold, wind, rain, snow, and hail; isolation; and the real possibility of starvation. Beyond that, however, each contestant must wrestle with the extreme solitude and loneliness. The degree to which each participant is able to manage these particular stressors goes a long way toward determining who will last the longest.

cute and cuddly little purinina, also known as Tasmanian Devil, a protected species and thus NOT a viable food source

What has struck me in each of the three seasons is how often, when nothing seems to be going their way and prospects appear dire, but then suddenly something works - they catch a fish, their trap deploys perfectly, their shelter blocks out the elements - participants will respond with some variation of "this fills me with so much hope", "I have so much more hope about being here", and "this makes me so hopeful."

The hope in this context is so clearly linked to their capacity to alter their circumstances, and to the confidence they gain from executing on a plan and achieving a goal.

Even as they may despair, a change in circumstance (usually acquiring something to eat) will completely change their outlook and perspective. Not a single one of them says, "wow, this fish has prolonged my suffering by one day." Instead, they view each success as evidence of their abilities and confirmation of their potential. And the consistency with which hope is invoked made me curious to learn more about what it means to be hopeful, and whether hope can be cultivated.

Learned hopefulness and the element of control

Learned helplessness was an idea first put forward in 1967 and which reached its peak in popularity in the 80s and 90s. Seligman and Maier's shock experiments on dogs asserted that exposure to uncontrollable stressors could lead to helplessness, passivity, and impaired performance. They coined the term "learned helplessness" - the belief that no matter what you do, nothing matters; that helplessness is a cognitive process, and that it is learned.

Recently, however, and in light of the 50th anniversary of their groundbreaking work, the researchers revisited their 1967 conclusions. Through advances in neuroscience and updated research methods (no more experimenting on dogs!), they determined that it is not the absence of control that is the critical dimension, but the presence of it.

Our biology has evolved to want to preserve energy in all contexts, and it is this preservation of energy that we revert to as our default mode.

In other words, when we expect to have no control in a situation, specifically prolonged adverse situations, we may fail to act as a way to preserve energy. Seligman and Maier originally though that this response was learned. It would appear, however, that if we are able to engage cognitive and behavioural control - that is, first identify and then act on the things that we can control - then we may be able to mitigate the adverse situation. The compelling finding is that it is this capacity that is learned.

If helplessness, then, is the belief that nothing one does matters, then hopefulness is the belief that was we do does matter: if helplessness's aim is to guard energy, then hope's aim is to unleash it.

While you and I may not have the opportunity or inclination test our capacity for hope in extreme survivalist settings, we can train our locus of control to become more internal, and therefore also train our belief in our own agency over what happens to us.

Cultivating hopefulness

"...hope consists largely in the habit of expecting that future bad events will not be permanent, global, and uncontrollable, but rather they will be temporary, local, and controllable. Such expectations are likely the best natural defense against helplessness..."

So how do we cultivate the habit of hope? First, we must embrace the idea of hope as energy that we can harness in any direction we choose. Dreams are the ideas and desires for our future; hope is the energy we need to fulfill them.

Second, translate your hopes into goals. Within the concept of flow, it is important for your goals to be personally meaningful, to afford you a sense of purpose in achieving them - and to assume an element of personal risk if you don't.

Next, map out your path. Being crystal clear about the steps you need to take, how, and when are the key to your sense of control. Working backward is a technique that works well. For example, want to complete a marathon in a year? That means that in 12 months, you will need to be able to run 42+ km. Working backwards, that means that in 9 months, you should be able to run up to 30 km on your long run days, 10 km comfortably. By 6 months, you should be working on between 5 -10 km. By three months, you should be comfortable with 5 km and some 10 km days. That means that by 2 months you should be able to jog about 40 minutes without stopping, 30 minutes at the end of 4 weeks; 20 minutes by the end of three weeks, and so on. Once you've completed this technique, it's easy to see how lacing up your shoes and getting out the door on day one is the first manageable, controllable step toward your goal.

Celebrate your victories! Some days will be too rainy, or you'll catch a flu, or something else may get in the way of your goal. Acknowledge even your smallest achievements, as they are the fuel for hope.

There are so many things in our lives that we cannot control, but most of us can decide most of the time what we do with our energy. Learning to harness it toward future mastery is the promise of the habit of hope.

they're cuter when they're chill.

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SELECTED REFERENCES

Maier, S. F. & Seligman, M. E. (2016). Learned helplessness at fifty: Insights from neuroscience. Psychol Rev. 2016. doi: 10.1037/rev0000033.

Nowicki, S., Iles-Caven, Y., Kalechstein, A. & Golding, J. (2021). Editorial: Locus of Control: Antecedents, Consequences, and Interventions Using Rotter's

Definition. Front Psychol. 2021. doi: 10.3389/fpsyg.2021.698917

Seligman, W. E. & Maier, S. F. (1967). Failure to escape traumatic shock. Journal of Experimental Psychology, 1967. doi: 10.1037/h0024514