The Synthesis Fugue

What kind of music do you enjoy? If you’re like me you appreciate a broad spectrum. So far today I’ve listened to Bach, Radiohead, Ryan Adams, and The Rolling Stones. The music I’m drawn to tends to result from synthesis: the combining of multiple, different parts into a complex whole. Attend the symphony and you’ll experience the splendid coalescence of myriad, unique aural expressions.

Synthesis, the third step in our learning structure, is when we collaborate with our audience to reassemble the elements explored during the process phase into a new coherent whole. Imagine you are the conductor. The orchestra is your audience. Together you are working to shape something resonant and memorable.

A powerful shift happens as you progress from Introduction through Process and into Synthesis. The topic you present in the Introduction, though helpful for the purposes of orienting your audience, is as yet abstract to everyone but you. Imagine if you told me, “Today we’re going to talk about native vegetation.” I would know what we’re discussing, but I wouldn’t have any relationship to the topic. It remains intangible to me. Process allows me to explore the content and make it my own. I can ask questions, deepen my understanding, and at least begin to satisfy my curiosity. Through synthesis we can then create a new form, or composition, that has personal meaning and relevance to each individual.

Too often, because we bypass the process phase, synthesis becomes merely a reiteration of what was stated in the introduction. For example, an introduction may be, “Smoking cigarettes is harmful to your health.” The “synthesis” that follows falls flatly as, “Furthermore, don’t smoke. It’s bad for you.” This prevents the message from taking root and yielding change because the topic remains distant and impersonal to the audience.

Synthesis offers the opportunity to make meaning of process. The presenter or educator can facilitate synthesis by bundling together comments from the audience into likenesses, then reframing the main message after integrating input. This is a far cry from traditional approaches wherein we state the message in our terms, irrespective of participants’ voices.

In summary, a solid Introduction promotes productive, divergent Process, which in turn allows for constructive Synthesis. Keep in mind that all of these elements apply to both formal and informal presentations. What applies to teaching a workshop will also be relevant in a dialogue with your coworkers or children. Fidelity to each element will enhance the potency of all our interactions.

It’s great to be working with you to promote meaningful, lasting change.

Best,

Questions? Send me an email.

“Development is progressive inhibition,” says Dr. John Mazziota, a UCLA neurologist, referring to the teen years. Teens are learning to inhibit their impulses—but they aren’t yet very adept. The result is the typical troubling behavior we see in adolescents: impulsiveness, mood swings, lack of self-control, and poor judgment. We see this exemplified in teens that participate in so-called high risk, dangerous behaviors such as drinking, smoking, and drug use.

A recent article in Scientific American discusses some noteworthy new findings about the brains of such “high-risk” teens: they begin to form myelin sooner than other teen brains. Simply put, myelin is the outer sheath that covers neurons in the brain. This sheath increases the speed and efficiency of brain activity. Once formed, myelin reduces the plasticity of the brain. The fact that myelin is most abundant in adult brains led the article to state that risk-taking teens possess brains more like those of mature adults.

The article’s conclusion, while logical, seems to me to be truncated. In reflecting on the study’s ramifications, I am inclined to believe that the teens in the study are more prone to taking risks because they possess the gas pedal (myelin) but lack the brakes to inhibit their impulses. Parts of the brain, such as the amygdala, are essential to helping us apply the brakes. These parts are not fully developed in teens. Think of rerouting an interstate through the heart of a metropolitan city and you’ll have an accurate depiction of what the researchers are observing.

These findings also beg the question: From whence does this early onset of myelination stem? The article doesn’t answer, but I can’t help speculating. I suspect myelination in these teens is a self-protective response to adverse experiences—trauma, neglect, abuse, loss. These teens may have had age-inappropriate experiences that forced them to grow up too soon. The pathways they develop for survival are more efficient, but they are also out of sync with the rest of the brain and their overall development.

This research ought to motivate us to help kids and teens grow and develop at a cadence that’s in keeping with natural development. We should treat childhood and adolescence like a wildlife sanctuary. We go, we sit, we watch and delight in what we see. We protect and nurture, rather than endanger. Animals within sanctuaries deserve to exist and relate to themselves and their environment without fear. The same ought to be true for youth. Their preoccupation ought to be how to thrive, not how to merely survive.