Affective Forecasting

The Foundations of Affective Forecasting Research

One particularly rich research area that has grown out of behavioral economics examines affective forecasting or the extent to which people can predict how life events will affect them emotionally: in what way, how intensely, and for how long. Despite the fact that all decisions are based on these types of predictions (March, 1978), affective forecasting research has demonstrated that people are often poor predictors of their future emotional states. Relatedly, they are also poor at knowing what decisions promote the emotional reactions they seek. From the outcomes of elections, promotions, breakups, winning the lottery, and losing a football game, people systematically mispredict the intensity and duration of their emotional reactions to future life events (Wilson & Gilbert, 2008; Wilson, Wheatley, Meyers, Gilbert, & Axsom, 2000). Simply put, they do not always know what will make them happy and for how long.

Research on affective forecasting has revealed systematic lapses in self-knowledge. Although people are generally accurate when making crude predictions of emotional valence (e.g., a beach vacation will be good, but back surgery will be bad), they make errors when guessing just how intensely and for how long an emotional reaction may last. Duration neglect refers to the common experience of overestimating just how long something will be emotionally impactful (Gilbert, Pinel, Wilson, Blumberg, & Wheatley, 1998). People may know that an unexpected romantic breakup will be painful, but they might expect the pain to endure for months or even years. In reality, it will likely start to fade much faster.

A related concept is focalism—the tendency to home in on one isolated future event at the expense of everything else that is likely to be going on around it. For example, when asked to imagine how they would feel if their school’s football team won or lost an upcoming game, students overestimated how long their feelings would linger, because they were failing to account for other things that would also be taking place (Wilson et al., 2000). Certainly, the students would be a little disappointed if their team lost, but they would also be taking exams, eating meals, and spending time with friends. In short, people often forget that life goes on.

As the previous example might suggest, affective forecasting is often of great interest to students, particularly when couched in examples they can appreciate. Importantly, when discussing this topic, it is vital to discuss how persistent forecasting errors can be, often because people are doggedly overconfident about their decision-making abilities. Lest your students dismiss the topic with, “I would never do THAT,” it can be helpful to ask them to generate examples of their own. After explaining the basics of the forecasting research, I use the prompt: “Describe a time when you made an inaccurate affective forecast. Why do you think you were so inaccurate? Did you learn from the experience and avoid making a similar inaccurate forecast in the future? If yes, why? If no, why not?” This exercise inevitably brings up different experiences students have had—choices they have made in college, breakups, getting a new car, or losing the big game—and they quickly realize that bad experiences were really not so bad and that the happiness brought on by good experiences faded pretty quickly. Once students realize the extent to which these errors pervade their daily lives, the topic comes to life for them.

Exploring Possible Mechanisms

Once student interest is piqued, the topic of affective forecasting provides an excellent opportunity to delve into questions of mediating processes. Why, exactly, do people get it wrong? Why do they persist in believing that any one event will bring them everlasting happiness or sadness? What drives these errors?

A good starting point is to consider the possible function, or adaptive value, of these persistent errors. Overestimating future joy at an accomplishment might provide people with essential motivation to persist, whereas overestimating negativity could keep them from taking dangerous chances. Forecasting errors exist for a reason. Moreover, the concept of function can provide an opportunity to discuss functionalist approaches to psychology and could even lead to discussions of evolutionary psychology (see Liddle & Shackelford, 2011).

It is difficult to discuss affective forecasting in depth without considering hedonic adaptation (Brickman, Coates, & Janoff-Bulman, 1978; Diener, Lucas, & Napa Scollon, 2006). Due to this process, over time and through repeated exposure, emotional events go from the forefront to the background of our attention. (A functionalist argument is also useful here: It is maladaptive to keep attention focused on a past event and more adaptive to attend to immediate challenges.) Adaptation happens in very basic ways; for example, the tenth chocolate is seldom as enjoyable as the first. It can also operate on major life events: Getting into a dream college or landing a coveted internship is tremendously exciting at first, but it gradually ceases to be so. Daily life takes over people’s attention, and it becomes increasingly challenging to attend to past triumphs and defeats.

Importantly, people fail to realize the extent to which they adapt to emotional events, which is partly why they make forecasting errors. Instead, when people do experience short-lived joy or pain, they sometimes chalk it up to the object of their forecast (“Dating Steve isn’t nearly as fun as I expected. I guess he’s not the Prince Charming I thought he was.”) rather than to their “psychological immune systems” (Wilson, Meyers, & Gilbert, 2001). By and large, adaptation is an internal process and tells people more about themselves than about the world outside their hearts and minds.

In their attend, react, explain, adapt (AREA) model of hedonic adaptation, Wilson and Gilbert (2008) posited that when something emotionally relevant happens, people respond with some reasonable experience of happiness or sadness. A critical next step is sense making: Why did this event occur? Because people like to understand the whys and hows of what happened to them, they try their best to explain why an event occurred. This satisfies their need to know but destroys a bit of the mystique. A simple example to which students can relate is that of getting a gift. Before they open the package, they might be thinking about it a lot. There is a good deal of uncertainty and lots of material for reflection (“What could it be? Will I like it?”). Once they know what the gift is, though, as coveted as the object might be, they eventually move on to other, more pressing concerns. Again, life goes on.

It follows that if people can keep the mystery alive, they might be able to inhibit adaptation and keep things a source of joy for a longer period of time. Several studies have confirmed this. In one study, participants who received compliments from a series of potential “dates” were in an elevated mood for longer when they did not know which date had paid them which compliment (Wilson, Centerbar, Kermer & Gilbert, 2005). In another study, when students were entered into a raffle to win one of two desirable prizes, they were happier for longer when they had to wait to find out which prize they had won (Kurtz, Wilson, & Gilbert, 2007). Notably, forecaster participants (those who were asked only to predict their feelings) said they would prefer to have their curiosity satisfied rather than to remain uncertain about the outcome, an intuition that actually seems to diminish enjoyment. In fact, to inhibit hedonic adaptation, it helps to have an air of mystery or inexplicability about the event in question. It keeps the event salient in people’s minds as they try to understand it better. (Naturally, the opposite is true of negative life events. To promote recovery and resilience, understanding the negative event—explaining it or making sense of it—is generally preferable.) This “pleasure paradox” (Wilson & Gilbert, 2008) is a mind-bender for students: How can something that feels so aversive (uncertainty) also function as a mood booster?

Specific Forecasting Errors

With an understanding of the basic principles and mechanisms in place, students can consider more specific types of forecasting errors that may be especially interesting. These errors have useful and often counterintuitive implications for consumer behavior, interpersonal relationships, and even human resilience.

Individual Differences in Forecasting Ability

Clearly, the research suggests that people are prone to errors in affective forecasting. But are there people who tend to forecast well? In fact, researchers know less about individual differences in affective forecasting ability. Nevertheless, this topic is a fascinating one for consideration and discussion. For example, research shows that emotional intelligence helps people make more accurate predictions of future feelings (Dunn, Brackett, Ashton-James, Schneiderman, & Salovey, 2007; Hoerger, Chapman, Epstein, & Duberstein, 2012); that higher levels of mindfulness are positively associated with improved forecasts (Emanuel, Updegraff, Kalmbach, & Ciesla, 2010); and that those with depressive symptoms are especially likely to overestimate negative emotional reactions (Hoerger, Quirk, Chapman, & Duberstein, 2012). Also, there is mixed evidence that older people are better at predicting certain kinds of emotional experiences. Namely, older adults seem better able to make refined judgments of future emotions (Nielsen, Knutson, & Carstensen, 2008).

Implications for Sustainable Happiness

People adapt to many things in life, in ways they often fail to realize. This idea can be a reasonable take-home message or it can be used as a transition into a discussion of sustainable happiness. Specifically, given the pernicious process of adaptation, do people have any hope for becoming lastingly happier (Sheldon & Lyubomirsky, 2012)? Are they on a “hedonic treadmill,” trying to move forward but being pulled back to their hedonic baseline by internal forces they cannot control (Brickman et al., 1978)?

Recently, happiness researchers have focused on strategies that help combat adaptation, keeping the good things in life front and center. One classic activity that plays on this process is the gratitude diary (Emmons & McCullough, 2003). For example, teachers could instruct students to keep a diary of their own, listing three good things that happened each day or three things in life for which they are grateful. In addition to the benefits it may bring students, the gratitude diary can also be fodder for discussion on inhibiting adaptation. Does the activity really keep the good things in students’ lives fresh in mind?

As mentioned previously, a counterintuitive strategy entails adding a bit of uncertainty into a positive life event. Doing so tampers with people’s internal sense makers, keeping them wondering about and scrutinizing a positive event for longer than they otherwise might (Wilson & Gilbert, 2008). One suggestion for increasing happiness, then, is to add an element of mystery to a positive life event. Although this technique may not be relevant for every experience, teachers can encourage students to embrace moments of positive uncertainty in their lives. Examples include navigating the early stages of a romantic relationship, putting off opening a package that has arrived in the mail, or waiting to watch the last episode of an engaging television series. Although people long to have their uncertainty resolved (Wilson et al., 2005), delaying doing so can add a surprising degree of enjoyment to ordinary life events.

Another technique entails mentally simulating what life might be like without some present, positive thing. One way to do this would be to have students take something ordinary, something that may fall victim to adaptation—a best friend, a romantic partner, or even college itself—and try to imagine life without it. What would it be like without this person or opportunity? In one relevant study, married couples who imagined life without their spouses saw an increase in marital satisfaction, contrary to their forecasts (Koo, Algoe, Wilson, & Gilbert, 2008).

Can We Become Better Forecasters?

Students are often interested in whether people can become more accurate affective forecasters. Although these errors are hard to correct (Ayton, Pott, & Elwakili, 2007; Wilson et al., 2001), there are several suggestions worth discussing.

First, teachers can discuss the implications of focalism (Wilson et al., 2000). Errors often occur because people think of future events as occurring in a vacuum, which, of course, is not how real life works. Even people’s greatest triumphs do not exempt them from ordinary tasks like answering e-mails and cooking dinner. One way to correct for focalism is to force people to step back and consider the other things that take place on any given day. For example, having students complete a prospective diary—where they lay out ahead of time their day’s activities from morning until night—can help pull their focus away from the main event. The predicted emotional impact of getting a new iPad, for instance, comes into perspective when students consider a day of classes, laundry, cooking, and socializing with friends. The iPad might make a difference, but in the grand scheme of things, its impact is likely to be very small. Naturally, this activity has implications for deciding how we spend our money (Dunn, Gilbert, & Wilson, 2011). Realizing that a purchase might not be so life changing after all can make students think twice before splurging.

Knowledge of one’s own psychological immune system can also be a powerful tool (and a good idea to discuss in class). Recall the power of adaptation and accept that it is a natural, automatic process that is hard to undo. When thinking about, say, purchasing a new, big ticket item, teachers could ask students to consider how it might gradually become a background fixture in their lives, ceasing to bring much enjoyment. Might this exercise alter the decision to buy it?

Finally, an interesting thought experiment entails having students imagine life as a perfect forecaster. Would they want this ability? Why or why not? This can foster spirited discussion and frequently segues into a consideration of why people commit forecasting errors in the first place.

Opportunities for Application in the Classroom

Research on affective forecasting fits most naturally into a social psychology course, particularly in the social cognition unit, and many popular textbooks explicitly discuss it here. However, it may also fit into an introductory psychology course at the high school or college level, perhaps illustrating the basic idea that, despite people’s perceived expertise on their own personal tastes and preferences, they are often “strangers to themselves.” Discussing affective forecasting can even introduce the idea that much of what drives people’s thoughts, feelings, and behaviors is actually inaccessible. Affective forecasting could also be mentioned in a personality psychology course (“Are there individual differences in forecasting ability?”), in an evolutionary psychology course (“Why are forecasting errors adaptive?”), or in a developmental psychology course (“Does forecasting ability change across the lifespan?”). Finally, an understanding of both hedonic adaptation and affective forecasting can serve as the cornerstone of a positive psychology course (Kurtz, 2011).

Perhaps less obvious is the topic’s utility in research methodology courses. Many studies on affective forecasting use creative, complex, engaging experimental methods that are simply fun to learn about and discuss. For example, to test their hypotheses on the surprising benefits of unchangeable outcomes, Gilbert and Ebert (2002) created an involving, multisession photography class for their participants, ostensibly to test different teaching methods. Participants were given cameras and taught to use a darkroom to develop their photographs. In a different study, Wilson, Centerbar, Kermer, and Gilbert (2005) created an elaborate computerized “chat-room” to convince participants they were communicating with students from other universities. In both of these studies, it was essential that students cared about the outcome. Teachers and students can then discuss why and when it is necessary to go to such lengths in creating psychologically realistic situations. Relatedly, this research highlights exactly why researchers cannot take the easy route and simply ask participants how some future event might make them feel: People get it wrong. This basic fact necessitates realistic and involving experimental designs.

Moreover, affective forecasting studies provide excellent, novel examples of factorial designs, where participants are, first, randomly assigned to be either “forecasters,” who mentally simulate the experience and make their best estimate of what their feelings might be, or “experiencers,” who go through the experiment and report their actual feelings. Then, these participants are further randomly assigned to different experimental conditions. In one study (Wilson et al., 2005), after being assigned to either a forecaster or a experiencer role, participants were then put into either a situation in which they received specific positive feedback about themselves or a situation where the positive feedback had an element of uncertainty. Forecasters estimated how they would feel in their respective condition, whereas experiencers reported their actual feelings. Wilson et al. found that forecasters underestimated how pleasant uncertainty seemed to be for the experiencers. In addition to the factorial design, more advanced courses could also draw on the forecasting literature for examples of mixed designs, where participants provide multiple mood ratings over time (e.g., Gilbert & Ebert, 2002).

In my experience, students at all levels can grasp the basics of affective forecasting. Regardless of where they are in college, students can come up with a time when they made a forecasting error. Moreover, advanced undergraduates and graduate students can go deeper into the material, perhaps as a complement to topics such as behavioral economics, social cognition, and consumer psychology.

Challenges and Benefits to Teaching Affective Forecasting

There are both challenges and benefits to teaching students about the topic of affective forecasting. In my experience, one challenge to teaching this very self-relevant topic is that conversation can easily devolve into anecdote sharing and self-analysis rather than critical consideration of research. As such, teachers may have to challenge students constantly to stay focused on research and theory rather than on personal experiences.

That being said, affective forecasting research, along with its implications for happiness and spending money, is an excellent topic for all students. It is accessible and useful, explaining why people’s successes can be disappointing but also why people are often remarkably resilient in the face of challenge or trauma. It can be humbling and an intellectual challenge for students (and faculty!) to grapple with the fact that they might not know themselves as well as they think.

Conclusion

Affective forecasting is a topic that engages and challenges students at a variety of levels. In addition to fostering an appreciation for creative experimental design, it forces students to question their beliefs about happiness and touches on the underlying psychological processes that can make lasting happiness a challenge. Finally, for students on the verge of major life decisions relating to career, relationships, relocation, and more, it is more than a topic for academic consideration. As their life experiences accumulate and the future seems increasingly uncertain, college is an ideal time to expose students to some of the common challenges inherent in decision making.