How Do We Reclaim Our Focus?我們?cè)撊绾沃厥皩Ｗ⒘Γ?/h1>
2024-08-11 00:00:00勒妮·亞辛/文云天/譯
英語世界 2024年8期
Talking to Gen Z about tech overuse isn’t exactly groundbreaking. We all recognize the impact of daily device usage on our health， well-being and ability to focus. One day， we’ll look at social media use the way we now view smoking， a friend argues—we know it’s bad for us， but we might need a little help to quit.
和Z世代談?wù)摽萍籍a(chǎn)品的過度使用根本不是什么新鮮事。我們都意識(shí)到了日常使用電子設(shè)備對(duì)我們的健康、幸福感和專注力有何影響。我的一位朋友認(rèn)為，終有一日，我們會(huì)像現(xiàn)在看待抽煙那樣看待使用社交媒體的行為——我們知道這個(gè)行為對(duì)自己有害，但我們可能需要一點(diǎn)幫助才能戒掉。
Popular social media and online dating platforms are designed for addiction. Social media features such as TikTok’s self-shuffling “For You” page， or the rare thrill of going viral or finding a cute match on a dating app， mimic the unpredictable reward cycles that keep slot machine players going back for more. The results of one study likened humans on social media to rats in a Skinner box1—by maintaining a Snapchat streak or posting your vacation photos on Instagram， you’re rewarded with a flood of hearts on your screen or a little flame emoji （cue TikTok sound： “It’s like a reward”）， and you’re conditioned to do it again and again.
流行的社交媒體和線上交友平臺(tái)就是為了讓人上癮而設(shè)計(jì)的。社交媒體的特色功能（比如TikTok自動(dòng)隨機(jī)推送的“為你推薦”頁面），還有在交友軟件上走紅或找到合拍對(duì)象的絕妙快感，都模仿了讓老虎機(jī)玩家欲罷不能的那種不可預(yù)測的獎(jiǎng)勵(lì)周期。一項(xiàng)研究的結(jié)果顯示，使用社交媒體的人如同斯金納箱中的老鼠：保持“色拉布”的連發(fā)紀(jì)錄或在“照片墻”上發(fā)布度假照片，屏幕上就會(huì)涌現(xiàn)出大量愛心或者出現(xiàn)一個(gè)小火焰表情（此處響起TikTok的音效素材聲：“這就像個(gè)獎(jiǎng)勵(lì)。”），于是人們養(yǎng)成了反復(fù)這樣做的習(xí)慣。
But beyond app design， the reasons we can’t seem to detach ourselves from unhealthy cycles with social media are more complex， and probably linked to a lack of access to in-person social interaction outside of planned hangouts with familiar people or friends of friends. Even in a bustling university student center， I’ve noticed there aren’t many unscheduled collisions—with earbuds in， people signal that they don’t wish to be disturbed， no matter how much the brains between the earbuds might be craving conversations with new people.
不過，除了應(yīng)用程序的設(shè)計(jì)，我們似乎無法擺脫社交媒體不健康循環(huán)的原因更為復(fù)雜，而且與之相關(guān)的可能還有一點(diǎn)——除了與熟人或遠(yuǎn)近朋友有計(jì)劃地聚會(huì)，我們?nèi)狈ζ渌鎸?duì)面的社交活動(dòng)。我注意到，即便是在熙熙攘攘的大學(xué)生活動(dòng)中心，計(jì)劃外的邂逅也并不多。一塞上耳機(jī)，人們就傳遞了自己不愿被打擾的信號(hào)，無論左右耳機(jī)之間的大腦多么渴求與陌生人對(duì)談。
For many members of Gen Z， most of our human interactions—everything from dating to brainstorming client strategy—now happen at least partially online. It’s certainly not the case for everyone： Many young people have thriving social lives IRL2 and use their phones only to send quick texts or to figure out their next move for the night. But many others feel powerless to resist the pull3 of the phone—if everyone else is online， being offline often means being alone.
對(duì)許多Z世代的人來說，大部分的人際交往——從約會(huì)交友到為制定客戶戰(zhàn)略進(jìn)行頭腦風(fēng)暴——現(xiàn)在都至少有一部分發(fā)生在線上。當(dāng)然，并非所有人都如此：許多年輕人在現(xiàn)實(shí)生活中有豐富多彩的社交生活，他們使用手機(jī)只是為了發(fā)送簡短的消息或者搜搜晚上要去哪兒。但還有很多人感到無力抗拒手機(jī)的誘惑：如果其他人都在線，那么不在線往往就意味著孤身一人。
In an unscientific yet interesting experiment， I recently polled my personal Instagram followers about the possibility of logging off completely. To one question， “Would you ever consider quitting social media for good4？” 34 percent chose the response “I have， but can’t bring myself to do it5.” The follow-up question： “If all your friends quit social media at once tomorrow， would you？” A surprising 42 percent responded， “Yes， definitely，” with 30 percent “Not sure” and the rest choosing “No， I still get value from these apps！”
我最近做了一個(gè)科學(xué)性有限但趣味性很強(qiáng)的試驗(yàn)，調(diào)查了我自己的“照片墻”關(guān)注者是否有可能徹底注銷社交媒體賬號(hào)。對(duì)于“你會(huì)考慮永遠(yuǎn)退出社交媒體嗎？”這一問題，34%的人選擇了“我考慮過，但無法做到”。對(duì)于接下來的問題“如果明天你所有的朋友同時(shí)退出社交媒體，你也會(huì)選擇退出嗎？”竟有高達(dá)42% 的人回答“是的，肯定會(huì)”，30%的人“不確定”，其余的人選擇了“不會(huì)，我仍然能從這些應(yīng)用程序中獲得價(jià)值！”
It sometimes seems social media has turned everyone into an armchair psychologist， bringing awareness and language to some of the same mental health issues it exacerbates. For example， take the buzz around dopamine， that pleasure-inducing neurotransmitter that governs our mood， motivation and focus. “Dopamine detoxing” is a recent trend that aims to reset your brain’s reward center by giving it a break from things that usually give you a dopamine rush—social media included. Stanford neuroscientist Andrew Huberman’s podcast episodes on dopamine have garnered millions of YouTube views， striking a chord6 with people seeking to improve their mood， reduce procrastination and increase focus in a distracting， overstimulating world.
有時(shí)候，社交媒體似乎把每個(gè)人都變成了夸夸其談的心理學(xué)家，促使人們對(duì)一些心理問題加以關(guān)注與討論，而這些心理問題正是因?yàn)樯缃幻襟w才加劇的。以多巴胺為例，這種能讓人愉悅的神經(jīng)遞質(zhì)控制著我們的情緒、動(dòng)力和專注力?！岸喟桶放哦尽笔亲罱囊环N趨勢(shì)，其目的是將大腦從通常會(huì)讓多巴胺水平飆升的事物（包括社交媒體）中解脫出來，從而重置大腦的獎(jiǎng)勵(lì)中心。斯坦福大學(xué)的神經(jīng)科學(xué)家安德魯·休伯曼關(guān)于多巴胺的播客節(jié)目在優(yōu)兔平臺(tái)上獲得了數(shù)百萬點(diǎn)擊量，希望在這個(gè)令人分心、刺激過度的世界里改善情緒、減少拖延、提高專注力的人們對(duì)節(jié)目內(nèi)容深有共鳴。
The internet’s obsession with dopa-mine and how to harness its powers might be masking collective unease about our ability to pay adequate attention in the highly online environment exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic—I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how U.S.-based Google searches for “ADHD” have tripled since the first lockdowns in March 2020. Maintaining motivation and focus in the wake of a constantly pinging phone and email has certainly been on my mind—though I enjoy having many hobbies， projects and interests， I often find myself wishing for silence and slowness， a space to have more control over where I put my attention.
沉迷互聯(lián)網(wǎng)的快感以及想方設(shè)法利用這股力量的執(zhí)著，可能掩蓋了我們共同的不安——我們能否在因新冠疫情而加劇的深度在線環(huán)境中保持足夠的注意力。2020年3月首次采取防疫封控措施以來，美國地區(qū)谷歌的“注意力缺陷多動(dòng)障礙”搜索量增加了兩倍，我最近好好想了想其中原因。在手機(jī)和郵件提示音響個(gè)不停的情況下如何保有干勁、保持專注無疑是我一直在思考的問題。盡管我喜歡自己有很多興趣愛好，喜歡有很多項(xiàng)目計(jì)劃可做，但我經(jīng)常發(fā)現(xiàn)自己渴望安靜與舒緩——一個(gè)能讓我更好地控制自己注意力何去何從的空間。
Gen Zers have already taken some impressive steps to solve our own problems with social media and tech overuse. Take Royce Branning， for example， a 2018 college graduate and founder of Clearspace， an app that helps people control their “doomscrolling” sessions and reduce their screen time. His company hosted a “no phone social” （or， for those of you born before the mid-to-late ’90s， a social） in San Francisco， where participants exchanged their phones for notepads and disposable cameras at the door. The company’s blog post about the experience is fascinating and worth a read. Or check out the projects found at LookUp.live， an incubator that supports Gen Z’s efforts to create a technologically healthier future. They include online movements to encourage teens and college students to delete or take breaks from their social media accounts， and youth-created apps that support teen emotional wellness.
Z世代已經(jīng)采取了一些令人印象深刻的手段去解決我們過度使用社交媒體和科技產(chǎn)品的問題。2018年大學(xué)畢業(yè)的羅伊斯·布蘭寧就是一個(gè)例子。他開發(fā)的“清凈空間”應(yīng)用程序幫助人們控制沉迷于瀏覽負(fù)面消息的行為，減少屏幕使用時(shí)間。他的公司在舊金山舉辦了一場“無手機(jī)社交”活動(dòng)（對(duì)1990年代中后期之前出生的人來說，這就是一場普通的社交活動(dòng)），參與者需要在門口存起手機(jī)，領(lǐng)取記事本和一次性相機(jī)。公司就活動(dòng)內(nèi)容發(fā)表的博客文章十分精彩，值得一讀。再來看看“探求生活”網(wǎng)站上的項(xiàng)目。這個(gè)網(wǎng)站是一個(gè)孵化器，支持Z世代努力創(chuàng)造依靠技術(shù)讓人們變得更健康的未來，所含項(xiàng)目包括鼓勵(lì)青少年和大學(xué)生刪除或暫停使用社交媒體賬戶的各種線上運(yùn)動(dòng)，以及由年輕人開發(fā)的用于增強(qiáng)青少年情緒健康的多種應(yīng)用程序。
Tech-based solutions to tech-based problems are only half the story. Like with smoking and secondhand smoke， there are externalities7 to using the internet as the primary way we spend our time with others—namely， fewer in-person opportunities for connection， fewer unexpected conversations with strangers in elevators， fewer “no phone” events where we can give our brains a break from the powerfully addictive devices in our pockets.
以科技手段解決科技問題還不夠。就如同抽煙和二手煙的關(guān)系，把使用互聯(lián)網(wǎng)作為我們與他人共度時(shí)光的主要方式也會(huì)產(chǎn)生外部效應(yīng)——與他人面對(duì)面交流的機(jī)會(huì)減少，在電梯里與陌生人的不經(jīng)意交談減少，讓大腦從口袋里特別令人上癮的設(shè)備中解脫出來的“無手機(jī)”活動(dòng)減少。
There is a story in my family about my grandfather seeing his young son pick up a pack of cigarettes to play with. Though he’d been smoking for 15 years， the sight prompted my grandfather to quit instantly， cold turkey8. Today， college-age kids and recent grads vow that they won’t have “iPad kids”. Promising to keep the next generation from taking up bad habits is admirable. But if we can muster9 up the courage and support to quit for ourselves before then？ Even better.
我家發(fā)生過這樣一件事：我的祖父看到他年幼的兒子拿起一包香煙玩，雖然他自己已經(jīng)抽了15年的煙，但這一幕還是促使他立即戒煙，而且是徹底戒掉。如今，上大學(xué)的孩子和剛畢業(yè)的大學(xué)生都發(fā)誓不會(huì)養(yǎng)出“iPad孩子”。他們承諾不讓下一代染上壞習(xí)慣的做法令人欽佩，但如果我們能在此之前鼓起勇氣、得到支持，先為自己戒掉社交媒體呢？那就更好了。
（譯者為“《英語世界》杯”翻譯大賽獲獎(jiǎng)?wù)撸?/p>
1斯金納箱由美國心理學(xué)家伯勒斯·弗雷德里克·斯金納（Burrhus Frederic Skinner）發(fā)明，是研究操作性條件反射的儀器。
2 = in real life在現(xiàn)實(shí)生活中。 3 pull吸引力；誘惑；影響。 4 for good永久地；徹底地。 5 bring oneself to do sth強(qiáng)迫某人做某事。
6 strike a chord引起共鳴。
7 externality外部性，對(duì)外影響。
8 cold turkey原指徹底治療吸毒成癮者的突然戒毒法，此處指突然徹底戒煙。 9 muster聚集（支持、力量、精力等）。
Talking to Gen Z about tech overuse isn’t exactly groundbreaking. We all recognize the impact of daily device usage on our health， well-being and ability to focus. One day， we’ll look at social media use the way we now view smoking， a friend argues—we know it’s bad for us， but we might need a little help to quit.
和Z世代談?wù)摽萍籍a(chǎn)品的過度使用根本不是什么新鮮事。我們都意識(shí)到了日常使用電子設(shè)備對(duì)我們的健康、幸福感和專注力有何影響。我的一位朋友認(rèn)為，終有一日，我們會(huì)像現(xiàn)在看待抽煙那樣看待使用社交媒體的行為——我們知道這個(gè)行為對(duì)自己有害，但我們可能需要一點(diǎn)幫助才能戒掉。
Popular social media and online dating platforms are designed for addiction. Social media features such as TikTok’s self-shuffling “For You” page， or the rare thrill of going viral or finding a cute match on a dating app， mimic the unpredictable reward cycles that keep slot machine players going back for more. The results of one study likened humans on social media to rats in a Skinner box1—by maintaining a Snapchat streak or posting your vacation photos on Instagram， you’re rewarded with a flood of hearts on your screen or a little flame emoji （cue TikTok sound： “It’s like a reward”）， and you’re conditioned to do it again and again.
流行的社交媒體和線上交友平臺(tái)就是為了讓人上癮而設(shè)計(jì)的。社交媒體的特色功能（比如TikTok自動(dòng)隨機(jī)推送的“為你推薦”頁面），還有在交友軟件上走紅或找到合拍對(duì)象的絕妙快感，都模仿了讓老虎機(jī)玩家欲罷不能的那種不可預(yù)測的獎(jiǎng)勵(lì)周期。一項(xiàng)研究的結(jié)果顯示，使用社交媒體的人如同斯金納箱中的老鼠：保持“色拉布”的連發(fā)紀(jì)錄或在“照片墻”上發(fā)布度假照片，屏幕上就會(huì)涌現(xiàn)出大量愛心或者出現(xiàn)一個(gè)小火焰表情（此處響起TikTok的音效素材聲：“這就像個(gè)獎(jiǎng)勵(lì)。”），于是人們養(yǎng)成了反復(fù)這樣做的習(xí)慣。
But beyond app design， the reasons we can’t seem to detach ourselves from unhealthy cycles with social media are more complex， and probably linked to a lack of access to in-person social interaction outside of planned hangouts with familiar people or friends of friends. Even in a bustling university student center， I’ve noticed there aren’t many unscheduled collisions—with earbuds in， people signal that they don’t wish to be disturbed， no matter how much the brains between the earbuds might be craving conversations with new people.
不過，除了應(yīng)用程序的設(shè)計(jì)，我們似乎無法擺脫社交媒體不健康循環(huán)的原因更為復(fù)雜，而且與之相關(guān)的可能還有一點(diǎn)——除了與熟人或遠(yuǎn)近朋友有計(jì)劃地聚會(huì)，我們?nèi)狈ζ渌鎸?duì)面的社交活動(dòng)。我注意到，即便是在熙熙攘攘的大學(xué)生活動(dòng)中心，計(jì)劃外的邂逅也并不多。一塞上耳機(jī)，人們就傳遞了自己不愿被打擾的信號(hào)，無論左右耳機(jī)之間的大腦多么渴求與陌生人對(duì)談。
For many members of Gen Z， most of our human interactions—everything from dating to brainstorming client strategy—now happen at least partially online. It’s certainly not the case for everyone： Many young people have thriving social lives IRL2 and use their phones only to send quick texts or to figure out their next move for the night. But many others feel powerless to resist the pull3 of the phone—if everyone else is online， being offline often means being alone.
對(duì)許多Z世代的人來說，大部分的人際交往——從約會(huì)交友到為制定客戶戰(zhàn)略進(jìn)行頭腦風(fēng)暴——現(xiàn)在都至少有一部分發(fā)生在線上。當(dāng)然，并非所有人都如此：許多年輕人在現(xiàn)實(shí)生活中有豐富多彩的社交生活，他們使用手機(jī)只是為了發(fā)送簡短的消息或者搜搜晚上要去哪兒。但還有很多人感到無力抗拒手機(jī)的誘惑：如果其他人都在線，那么不在線往往就意味著孤身一人。
In an unscientific yet interesting experiment， I recently polled my personal Instagram followers about the possibility of logging off completely. To one question， “Would you ever consider quitting social media for good4？” 34 percent chose the response “I have， but can’t bring myself to do it5.” The follow-up question： “If all your friends quit social media at once tomorrow， would you？” A surprising 42 percent responded， “Yes， definitely，” with 30 percent “Not sure” and the rest choosing “No， I still get value from these apps！”
我最近做了一個(gè)科學(xué)性有限但趣味性很強(qiáng)的試驗(yàn)，調(diào)查了我自己的“照片墻”關(guān)注者是否有可能徹底注銷社交媒體賬號(hào)。對(duì)于“你會(huì)考慮永遠(yuǎn)退出社交媒體嗎？”這一問題，34%的人選擇了“我考慮過，但無法做到”。對(duì)于接下來的問題“如果明天你所有的朋友同時(shí)退出社交媒體，你也會(huì)選擇退出嗎？”竟有高達(dá)42% 的人回答“是的，肯定會(huì)”，30%的人“不確定”，其余的人選擇了“不會(huì)，我仍然能從這些應(yīng)用程序中獲得價(jià)值！”
It sometimes seems social media has turned everyone into an armchair psychologist， bringing awareness and language to some of the same mental health issues it exacerbates. For example， take the buzz around dopamine， that pleasure-inducing neurotransmitter that governs our mood， motivation and focus. “Dopamine detoxing” is a recent trend that aims to reset your brain’s reward center by giving it a break from things that usually give you a dopamine rush—social media included. Stanford neuroscientist Andrew Huberman’s podcast episodes on dopamine have garnered millions of YouTube views， striking a chord6 with people seeking to improve their mood， reduce procrastination and increase focus in a distracting， overstimulating world.
有時(shí)候，社交媒體似乎把每個(gè)人都變成了夸夸其談的心理學(xué)家，促使人們對(duì)一些心理問題加以關(guān)注與討論，而這些心理問題正是因?yàn)樯缃幻襟w才加劇的。以多巴胺為例，這種能讓人愉悅的神經(jīng)遞質(zhì)控制著我們的情緒、動(dòng)力和專注力?！岸喟桶放哦尽笔亲罱囊环N趨勢(shì)，其目的是將大腦從通常會(huì)讓多巴胺水平飆升的事物（包括社交媒體）中解脫出來，從而重置大腦的獎(jiǎng)勵(lì)中心。斯坦福大學(xué)的神經(jīng)科學(xué)家安德魯·休伯曼關(guān)于多巴胺的播客節(jié)目在優(yōu)兔平臺(tái)上獲得了數(shù)百萬點(diǎn)擊量，希望在這個(gè)令人分心、刺激過度的世界里改善情緒、減少拖延、提高專注力的人們對(duì)節(jié)目內(nèi)容深有共鳴。
The internet’s obsession with dopa-mine and how to harness its powers might be masking collective unease about our ability to pay adequate attention in the highly online environment exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic—I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how U.S.-based Google searches for “ADHD” have tripled since the first lockdowns in March 2020. Maintaining motivation and focus in the wake of a constantly pinging phone and email has certainly been on my mind—though I enjoy having many hobbies， projects and interests， I often find myself wishing for silence and slowness， a space to have more control over where I put my attention.
沉迷互聯(lián)網(wǎng)的快感以及想方設(shè)法利用這股力量的執(zhí)著，可能掩蓋了我們共同的不安——我們能否在因新冠疫情而加劇的深度在線環(huán)境中保持足夠的注意力。2020年3月首次采取防疫封控措施以來，美國地區(qū)谷歌的“注意力缺陷多動(dòng)障礙”搜索量增加了兩倍，我最近好好想了想其中原因。在手機(jī)和郵件提示音響個(gè)不停的情況下如何保有干勁、保持專注無疑是我一直在思考的問題。盡管我喜歡自己有很多興趣愛好，喜歡有很多項(xiàng)目計(jì)劃可做，但我經(jīng)常發(fā)現(xiàn)自己渴望安靜與舒緩——一個(gè)能讓我更好地控制自己注意力何去何從的空間。
Gen Zers have already taken some impressive steps to solve our own problems with social media and tech overuse. Take Royce Branning， for example， a 2018 college graduate and founder of Clearspace， an app that helps people control their “doomscrolling” sessions and reduce their screen time. His company hosted a “no phone social” （or， for those of you born before the mid-to-late ’90s， a social） in San Francisco， where participants exchanged their phones for notepads and disposable cameras at the door. The company’s blog post about the experience is fascinating and worth a read. Or check out the projects found at LookUp.live， an incubator that supports Gen Z’s efforts to create a technologically healthier future. They include online movements to encourage teens and college students to delete or take breaks from their social media accounts， and youth-created apps that support teen emotional wellness.
Z世代已經(jīng)采取了一些令人印象深刻的手段去解決我們過度使用社交媒體和科技產(chǎn)品的問題。2018年大學(xué)畢業(yè)的羅伊斯·布蘭寧就是一個(gè)例子。他開發(fā)的“清凈空間”應(yīng)用程序幫助人們控制沉迷于瀏覽負(fù)面消息的行為，減少屏幕使用時(shí)間。他的公司在舊金山舉辦了一場“無手機(jī)社交”活動(dòng)（對(duì)1990年代中后期之前出生的人來說，這就是一場普通的社交活動(dòng)），參與者需要在門口存起手機(jī)，領(lǐng)取記事本和一次性相機(jī)。公司就活動(dòng)內(nèi)容發(fā)表的博客文章十分精彩，值得一讀。再來看看“探求生活”網(wǎng)站上的項(xiàng)目。這個(gè)網(wǎng)站是一個(gè)孵化器，支持Z世代努力創(chuàng)造依靠技術(shù)讓人們變得更健康的未來，所含項(xiàng)目包括鼓勵(lì)青少年和大學(xué)生刪除或暫停使用社交媒體賬戶的各種線上運(yùn)動(dòng)，以及由年輕人開發(fā)的用于增強(qiáng)青少年情緒健康的多種應(yīng)用程序。
Tech-based solutions to tech-based problems are only half the story. Like with smoking and secondhand smoke， there are externalities7 to using the internet as the primary way we spend our time with others—namely， fewer in-person opportunities for connection， fewer unexpected conversations with strangers in elevators， fewer “no phone” events where we can give our brains a break from the powerfully addictive devices in our pockets.
以科技手段解決科技問題還不夠。就如同抽煙和二手煙的關(guān)系，把使用互聯(lián)網(wǎng)作為我們與他人共度時(shí)光的主要方式也會(huì)產(chǎn)生外部效應(yīng)——與他人面對(duì)面交流的機(jī)會(huì)減少，在電梯里與陌生人的不經(jīng)意交談減少，讓大腦從口袋里特別令人上癮的設(shè)備中解脫出來的“無手機(jī)”活動(dòng)減少。
There is a story in my family about my grandfather seeing his young son pick up a pack of cigarettes to play with. Though he’d been smoking for 15 years， the sight prompted my grandfather to quit instantly， cold turkey8. Today， college-age kids and recent grads vow that they won’t have “iPad kids”. Promising to keep the next generation from taking up bad habits is admirable. But if we can muster9 up the courage and support to quit for ourselves before then？ Even better.
我家發(fā)生過這樣一件事：我的祖父看到他年幼的兒子拿起一包香煙玩，雖然他自己已經(jīng)抽了15年的煙，但這一幕還是促使他立即戒煙，而且是徹底戒掉。如今，上大學(xué)的孩子和剛畢業(yè)的大學(xué)生都發(fā)誓不會(huì)養(yǎng)出“iPad孩子”。他們承諾不讓下一代染上壞習(xí)慣的做法令人欽佩，但如果我們能在此之前鼓起勇氣、得到支持，先為自己戒掉社交媒體呢？那就更好了。
（譯者為“《英語世界》杯”翻譯大賽獲獎(jiǎng)?wù)撸?/p>
1斯金納箱由美國心理學(xué)家伯勒斯·弗雷德里克·斯金納（Burrhus Frederic Skinner）發(fā)明，是研究操作性條件反射的儀器。
2 = in real life在現(xiàn)實(shí)生活中。 3 pull吸引力；誘惑；影響。 4 for good永久地；徹底地。 5 bring oneself to do sth強(qiáng)迫某人做某事。
6 strike a chord引起共鳴。
7 externality外部性，對(duì)外影響。
8 cold turkey原指徹底治療吸毒成癮者的突然戒毒法，此處指突然徹底戒煙。 9 muster聚集（支持、力量、精力等）。
