“As illustrated by Pavlov’s dog experiment, our reactions—acquired over time through learning and habit—can turn into reflexes. This conditioning is reversible, provided we choose to reinvent ourselves into someone who truly reflects who we are.”
— Will in Motion
Ivan Pavlov’s experiment at the dawn of the 20th century isn’t a distant scientific memory; it’s an X-ray of our modern lives. We don’t need a bell or a bowl of kibble. We have the simple ding of a notification, the alert of an email, or the subtle vibration that makes us leap from our chair like the most obedient dog in the world.
Your emotional brain—that invisible master I’ve already dissected—loves reflexes. Why? Because they’re simple, fast, and save energy for the noble neocortex, that calorie-hungry thinker. The reptile in you prefers habit over truth.
Who really drives our decisions?
Habit is not just a routine; it is a form of social and biological conditioning that frees us from having to choose.
When Pavlov’s dog salivates, it is not making a decision. It’s obeying an acquired neurological pattern. And when you grab your phone to check the latest comment on LinkedIn, even in the middle of a conversation or a crucial document, you are not making a decision either. You’re obeying a conditioned impulse.
Here lies the trap: our rational brain, the devil’s advocate, always steps in after the reflex to politely justify it.
“Oh, that was important,” we tell ourselves, even though our body has already betrayed our will. Free will is reduced to the role of a secretary, tasked with writing the memo explaining why the primitive brain has made yet another foolish decision.
The problem of freedom is therefore not so much whether we can do what we want, but whether we can not do what we are conditioned to do.
The good news—and this is where the essay takes its full meaning—is that we can dismantle our reflexes.
The Pavlovian experiment is reversible: if you ring the bell without ever bringing food, the reflex fades. But for humans, this requires an act of will that I call active rebirth.
Reinventing yourself doesn’t mean changing your shirt or your job.
It means choosing not to respond to the acquired reflex.
It requires the courage to deliberately introduce a rupture into the neural pattern.
Turning off the notification button.
Letting the phone ring.
Responding to the impulse with cold silence.
It is an act of personal resistance, a small victory over the inertia of the “Me” we are out of habit. It is the only way for “Become who you are” to stop being an empty slogan and reclaim its rightful role as an odyssey. The path to oneself always begins by disobeying one’s own conditioning.
To understand the mechanisms of action and free will, and to discover the tools to decondition your reflexes, dive into the essay Will in Motion : How Emotions and Reason shape who you become
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