How Pleasure Works

August 2, 2010
Bloom (Descartes’ Baby), a psychology professor at Yale, explores pleasure from evolutionary and social perspectives, distancing himself from the subject’s common association with the senses. By examining studies and anecdotes of pleasure-inducing activities like eating, art, sex, and shopping, Bloom posits that pleasure takes us closer to the essence of a thing, be it animal, vegetable, or mineral. He argues that humans seem to be hard-wired to give, as well as receive, pleasure. A study using mislabeled, cheap bottles of wine, wherein “Forty experts said the wine with the fancy label was worth drinking, while only twelve said this of the cheap label,” demonstrates the complicated sociological components behind what we find pleasurable. Bloom even briefly examines positive reactions to very hot food and other “controlled doses of pain.” And a study where rhesus monkeys chose pictures of female hindquarters and high-status monkeys over fruit juice allows the author to surmise that “Two major vices—pornography and celebrity worship—are not exclusively human.”

April 15, 2010
Bloom (Psychology/Yale Univ.; Descartes' Baby: How Child Development Explains What Makes Us Human, 2004, etc.) presents essentialism as a weighty determinant of our pleasures.

"What matters most is not the world as it appears to our senses," writes the author."Rather, the enjoyment we get from something derives from what we think that thing is." In this scholarly yet spry book, the author strives to convey a sense of that mojo, surely one of the most elusive of qualities. A blind tasting of wine is always a good illustration of this point, as is the letdown we feel if we discover that the watch or painting we bought is a fake. The things that give us pleasure may bestow evolutionary advantage, excite pure sensuality or carry psychological significance. Bloom salts the book with all manner of pungent, apposite points—"females were drawn to males who gave them sexual pleasure, leading to the evolution of a better penis"—and stresses that we experience pleasure through the thing's real or imagined history. A record-setting, home-run baseball, the unwashed T-shirt of a celebrity, the purity of spring water, an original piece of sheet music or art—these have elemental stories, and we want to be part of those stories, to be transported, transformed and enriched. Adding to the thrill is a sense of the numinous, that there is something in operation beyond our ken. The author probes the history of sentimental objects, the contact and context that give them meaning; how we hope that qualities of the things we eat will pervade us; the ways in which we are attracted to the process of making art and storytelling; and the strange case of giving and receiving pain.

A heartening, well-developed argument.

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