My Psychological and Geographic Typography

The results of an ambitious study were published two weeks ago.  It attempts to scientifically “map the psychological topography of the United States.”

I detect from the results that any creativity and innovation with which I am often credited may be the result of always living in states deemed in the analysis to be “relaxed and creative,” including California, Idaho (my native state,) North Carolina, Utah and Washington.

My near decade in Alaska is unaccounted because the analysis deals only with the “lower 48.”

An extroverted friend of mine jumped to the conclusion that North Carolina is extroverted but this state falls in a cluster identified by low extroversion, low agreeableness, average conscientiousness, very low neuroticism and very high openness.

From my experience here over almost 25 years, the description of North Carolina fits, but the General Assembly has been dominated by some outliers for the last three years, especially when it comes to neuroticism (smile.)

Read the study which was published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology.  It is far more enlightening than the red state-blue state typology, yet it includes political as well as economic, social and health correlations.

By the way, North Carolina is 51% extroverted like my friend and obviously half introverted.  Before retirement, I tested an “x” or right on the line between the two or about the state median.  In retirement, my truer tendency to introversion is apparent.

Of the other states in which I lived, Idaho and Washington were the most introverted in the study at nearly 60% and 70% respectively while Utah was the most extroverted at nearly 56%.  California, like North Carolina, was right on the line.

One way the difference is often explained is that both types are outgoing enough but extroverts draw energy from others while introverts are drained during the process of too much interaction and need quiet time to recharge.

I participated in a Durham Rotary Club adaptation of a progressive dinner event last weekend.  I felt drained by the large reception at stage one but rejuvenated by the smaller group of 8 in the middle which confirmed, indeed, that I am more introverted than extroverted in retirement.

If there are any vampires out on Halloween this week, it is as likely they are energy vampires as the blood sucking kind.

Introverted does not mean less open.  On that scale, Washington, which was the most introverted of the states in which I have lived scored second highest at 57% after California at 65%.

Idaho and Utah scored in the 45% and 48% on openness although the latter was far more extroverted.  I suspect Alaska would score off the charts on openness if measured.

My experience in less open states is that you have to incubate after arrival before being allowed to fully engage.  In Alaska, if you come up with a new idea the day you arrive there, you are immediately put in charge of the committee to make it happen.

That’s what I call openness.

Geographic Mindfulness

I couldn’t help but pay special attention to states that begin with the letter “I” during the four cross country ventures I’ve taken during my first 30 months of retirement, always accompanied by Mugsy, my English bulldog.

When I first relocated from my native intermountain west to Durham NC, nearly a quarter of a century ago, I was amused that so many native North Carolinians still classified me as a northerner and whenever I responded, “Idaho” to a question about my origins, the reply was invariably, “oh, where they raise the corn.”


Earlier this month as I traced the path my ancestors had taken across southern Iowa 167 years ago, I indeed saw lots of what my friend and Iowa native as well as fellow-North Carolinian, Harvey Schmitt calls “sweetcorn”, as though it were one word, but I was also impressed by the beauty of the topography there where deep, tree-filled creases are carved in glacial till.

Unless you classify geography by crops and vegetation, Iowa isn’t part of the Great Plains, although a small part of that region spills into the very northwest corner from South Dakota.

Iowa is actually in what is classified as the Central Lowland Plains.

A majority of the state of Montana along with major portions of Colorado, Wyoming, both Dakotas, Kansas, New Mexico, Texas and nearly all of Nebraska comprise the Great Plains.

During my trip I crossed outbound through the vast Southern Iowa Drift Plain and then back through the very flat Des Moines Lobe stretching down from Minnesota and the shallower-creased Iowan Surface regions of that state on my return.  The northeast corner stretches up toward Madison, Wisconsin in a Paleozoic Plateau.

Overall the drop from the Great Plains into the Central Lowland Plains is one of elevation.

These cross-country ventures, using largely different routes, have left me with a positive impression of the other “I” states and how different they are from my native Idaho.  Even Indiana, where during the outbound leg this month, I garnered only the lasting impression of a forest of ugly roadside billboards in stark contrast to Illinois, but the Hoosier state redeemed itself upon closer inspection on a return route.

One of the things I’ve enjoyed in retirement, besides indulging many passions beyond that of my now-concluded forty year career in community-destination marketing (demand-side economic development) has been the luxury of what psychological researcher Helen Langer termed “mindfulness” in a book published way back when I first moved to Durham in the late 1980s.

But an even better description is found in the title of her new book with updated research entitled Counter Clockwise.  In an NPR interview I listened to as I drove back roads through western Illinois on the second leg of the outward bound route of my most recent trip, Langer gave a great definition of “mindfulness” as follows:

"People often confuse mindfulness with thinking, and thinking has gotten a bad rap itself. Now, when you're being mindful, as I study it, you're simply noticing new things. Even when you're thinking…”

Continually noticing new things and listening to new things as well as  experiencing the incredible geography of this great nation and the companionship of Mugsy and time with my daughter and grandsons are all reasons I enjoy road trips.

When I consider such experiences, in addition to everything I learn through curation of this blog, I realize that I am proving Langer correct when she says they are making me grow younger in retirement.

As Dr. Langer blogged recently, “...activities are not inherently interesting or boring... If we want to find something, or someone for that matter, interesting, all we need to do is notice things about it. The more we mindfully notice, the more engaged we become...”