Author and scholar Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi has earned an international reputation for his studies and analyses of our daily experiences, whether it’s the choice and placement of household objects or the quest for individual fulfillment. He was born in Fiume, Italy, where his father was Hungarian consul. A developmental social psychologist, he received a Ph.D. from the University of Chicago and taught sociology and anthropology at Lake Forest College until 1970, when he returned to the University as a professor of human development and would chair the department of psychology from 1985 to 1988. His list of books is extensive, including “Beyond Boredom and Anxiety” in 1975, “The Creative Vision” (with Jacob Getzels) in 1976 and “The Meaning of Things: Domestic Symbols and the Development of the Self” (with Eugene Rochberg-Halton) in 1981. Then, in 1990, Csikszentmihalyi published a mainstream best-seller “Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience,” about enhancing the quality of life, which sold more than 200,000 copies and was translated into 11 foreign languages. His most recent book, “Creativity,” published in June, details the thought processes, work strategies and lifestyles of nearly 100 of the world’s most original thinkers. Victoria Lautman caught up with Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (pronounced ME-high CHICK-sent-me-high-ee) in Montana, where he retreats to hike, read and admire the scenery.
VICTORIA LAUTMAN: Why is it that the psychological impact of interior design has never been a popular topic in your field? It seems like such ripe, revealing territory.
MIHALY CSIKSZENTMIHALYI: To tell the truth, I don’t have a good answer for that except the fact that psychologists have always tried to be as scientific as possible, looking at experimental conditions that can be completely controlled, and so most have gone in the direction of laboratories and the study of isolated behaviors. Home environments are so open-ended that it’s very difficult to find precise relations between what’s happening outside versus inside the person studied. It’s a very risky thing to venture into territory like that.
VL: Yet you’ve studied various relationships between people and their homes, or at least objects in their homes.
MC: I have not been as cautious as most of my colleagues, and have pursued what’s interesting to me even if it’s not amenable to typically closed, controlled situations. I’m simply more drawn to everyday life than to supervised, abstract processes, and I think the more comfortable my colleagues become with controlled situations, they may also venture more into real-life situations.
VL: The question of why people choose certain styles to decorate their homes-is this fraught with deep psychological meaning or not?
MC: Here we are actually talking to a large extent about cultural trends or fashions. Many times, people determine these stylistic choices only because they want to be up to date with those whose tastes count, to conform socially to the changing norms of society. That is a very powerful thing, but it doesn’t have to do so much with personal preferences as with not wanting to seem out of date or unsophisticated.
In a sense, we are just using these decorative symbols to locate ourselves in the social hierarchy-for instance, Irish lace curtains once indicated the middle class. But that’s very different from studying the idiosyncratic, personal meanings people attach to their homes. Social hierarchical meanings are to a certain extent unconscious and probably come before any personal attachments, which are more like the icing on the cake. In “The Meaning of Things,” we specifically asked our respondents what was most special to them in their homes, and found that what was mentioned was not what you would expect on the basis of simple conformity to social norm. I remember one man had a great collection of beautiful and valuable art, but when asked what was most special to him he went to the basement to haul out a trombone he’d played in college. Another male subject had an immaculate apartment with Louis XVI furniture carefully covered in plastic, but his most precious object was an animal figurine. So there are often discrepancies between what you feel most attached to and what you’re surrounded with in order to state your position in society.
VL: Besides indicating our social position, is there a more symbolic relationship between our homes and ourselves?
MC: Absolutely, because the self is neither all private nor all public. Part of each of us is the construction of a role that society presents to us. We want to be part of a community, we think of ourselves as being a doctor or a Scandinavian-American or a Catholic-all of these social statuses are part of what we are, so it’s hard to tell which is the other uniquely private part. When we live in a Bauhaus-style apartment, it may be partly a statement about how sophisticated our taste is, or just that there was a vacancy in the building, or that we listen to a particular designer, or something much deeper. It’s very hard to know the truth unless you talk it through, since we often assume that if a person is confronted with a particular environment, then that person will f.eel a certain way. But the reaction can be exactly the opposite-it’s all based on personal interpretation and interaction, not the environment alone.
VL: In “The Meaning of Things,” I was amazed to find that fewer than half of your respondents mentioned any mood or style they associated with their homes. Did that surprise you?
MC: I was surprised by the fact that, when talking about the style of their homes, most wouldn’t talk in aesthetic terms at all! Originally, I planned to look at aesthetic preferences made by individuals, but the descriptions that emerged had more to do with comfort, durability, cheeriness and relaxation. Those were the specific terms people used, instead of mentioning Early American or French Deco or talking about particular shapes, lines and craftsmanship.
VL: Is any of this related to social class?
MC: I don’t think so, since I haven’t been convinced the upper classes know more about aesthetics than other classes. They tend to put more trust in decorators. But in a study of art collectors I conducted a few years ago, I found that some famous collectors with beautiful, original Monets and Van Goghs couldn’t actually tell them apart. I think some people are just more sensitive to their environment. Also, as we move upward economically or status-wise, we feel a certain responsibility for expressing our position in society through our environment. We need the bigger house or the better furniture, or else we’re not perceived as a real member of the class we’ve moved into. That burden of status and expectation might dictate our stylistic choices too, but it doesn’t mean we want it or enjoy it more.
VL: I guess that explains why we’re confounded by wealthy people living in very humble surroundings.
MC: Yes. We expect consistency between wealth and the way it’s expressed through lifestyle. We feel there should be coherence with social position, and that’s why we feel obligated to have the right home and things, even if we don’t necessarily enjoy them all that much. But on the other hand, it means you can live in a fairly simple environment and feel pretty good about it.
VL: Do you think it’s very hard for people to identify their own style?
MC: I think that has to do with whether or not a person has always paid attention to and reflected on these issues. If so, then it’s much easier. But if they’ve always been sort of oblivious, then it can be very difficult. There are big individual differences, as with food. Some people can eat anything and really don’t care much; others pay attention to the flavors and order a good meal because they know what they like and what goes together. The physical environment is the same. You can take a person into the most beautiful natural scenery, and they’ll still talk about business back at home. Again, it boils down to not everyone having the same reaction to the same situation.
VL: Since your most recent book was about creative people, do you have any observations about original thinkers and their home environments?
MC: Well, there’s definitely a connection, but it’s hard to pinpoint. I discovered that natural surroundings seem to help people achieve a certain amount of serenity and focus. And that whether they live in a beautiful, elegant home or in a very simple, austere environment, they feel comfortable in their surroundings. In a sense, these people have controlled their environments more than usual and suited their homes to their needs so they can focus on whatever it is they’re doing.
VL: Comfort seems to be a continual leitmotif.
MC: Yes, but the question is what type of comfort you require. For some it’s a recliner for watching TV; for others it’s a place that’s very well lit for reading through papers, books and files. Others want to move around easily without distraction, or they want a great view so they don’t feel cooped up. It’s not just bodily comfort that’s important; it’s psychological too. For many people, comfort has to do with feeling rooted in family traditions and having lots of mementos and photographs around.
VL: Then here’s one last, personal question. What’s your own style?
MC: In Chicago it’s sort of Bauhaus-ish, while in Montana it’s more of a chalet, although my real preference is for Mediterranean stucco, with rounded white shapes and dark beams and tile floors. But so far we can’t afford it.
