The Stanford marshmallow (棉花糖) test was originally conducted by psychologist Walter Mischel in the late 1960s. Children aged four to six at a nursery school were placed in a room. A single sugary treat, selected by the child, was placed on a table. Each child was told if they waited for 15 minutes before eating the treat, they would be given a second treat. Then they were left alone in the room. Follow-up studies with the children later in life showed a connect ion between an ability to wait long enough to obtain a second treat and various forms of success. 

As adults we face a version of the marshmallow test every day. We' re not tempted (诱惑) by sugary treats, but by our computers, phones, and tablets — all the devices that connect us to the global delivery system for various types of information that do to us what marshmallows do to preschoolers.

We are tempted by sugary treats because our ancestors lived in a calorie-poor world, and our brains developed a response mechanism to these treats that reflected their value — a feeling of reward and satisfaction. But as we've reshaped the world around us, dramatically reducing the cost and effort involved in obtaining calories, we still have the same brains we had thousands of years ago, and this mismatch is at the heart of why so many of us struggle to resist tempting foods that we know we shouldn't eat.

A similar process is at work in our response to information. Our formative environment as a species was information-poor, so our brains developed a mechanism that prized new information. But global connectivity has greatly changed our information environment. We are now ceaselessly bombarded (轰炸) with new information. Therefore, just as we need to be more thoughtful about our caloric consumption, we also need to be more thoughtful about our information consumption, resisting the temptation of the mental "junk food" in order to manage our time most effectively.

A bat and a ball cost $1. 10 in total. The bat costs $1. 00 more than the ball. How much does the ball cost?

If you answered 10 cents, you're not alone—most people give the same answer (the correct answer is 5 cents). It's an example of how we often rely on intuitive (直觉的) responses—answers we feel are true. People give answers that "pop into their mind, " says Steven Sloman. We don't spend much time "reflecting and checking whether the answer is right or wrong."

The bat and ball question helps explain why we often believe in fake news. It is part of human nature to believe, says Sloman. But "the trick with fake news is to know to verify" — in other words, to stop and question what you know. In one experiment, Sloman and a colleague invented a discovery called helium rain. They told a group of volunteers about it, but admitted they could not fully explain what it was. They then asked the volunteers to rate their own understanding of helium rain. Most volunteers rated themselves 1 out of 7, meaning they did not understand the concept.

The researchers then told another group of volunteers about the discovery. This time, they said that scientists could fully explain how it works. When asked to rate their understanding, the volunteers gave an average answer of 2. The scientists' confidence gave the volunteers an increased sense of their own understanding, Sloman says.

According to Sloman, studies show that knowledge spreads like a contagion(传染病). This idea can be seen in many fields, including politics. "If everyone around you is saying they understand why a politician is dishonest, " Sloman says, "then you're going to start thinking that you understand, too. "

Another explanation for the spread of fake news is "motivated reasoning, " writes Adam Wyatz, an American management professor, "we are naturally more likely to believe things that confirm our existing opinions. "

So in a world where misleading information is common, training people to care about fact-checking is important, especially in online communities. "We should check things and not just take them at face value," Sloman says. "Verify before you believe. "

American Mark Levine wears many hats in China-educator, author, volunteer, musician, sociologist, cross-cultural communicator, winner of the Chinese government's Friendship Award, and most noticeably, wide-brimmed.

The bushy-bearded 73-year-old is perhaps best known among the Chinese public for writing American country music-style songs about China that he performs in full cowboy regalia. He often sings and plays his guitar to the accompaniment of the erhu played by his friend, Fu Han, in their musical duo, In Side Out. Levine has staged hundreds of performances in 15 provinces, and one had an audience over 50,000, he says.

Fu Han recalls he once performed in a well-known bar in Beijing's Houhai area, and she joined him on stage with her erhu. "A group of tourists from northern Europe came up and watched and filmed us, and started singing with us. I realized a Chinese instrument and face can help better tell China's stories to foreigners. So, they officially became band mates. I'm the 'in' and he's the 'out' in In Side Out," she explains.

Levine plans to release a song book when he reaches 100 songs. He has so far written over 70 tunes that he calls "musical stories from my Chinese journey^,, since he settled in Beijing in 2007 to take an occupation at Minzu University of China, where he still works, largely on account of its ethnic diversity.

Levine says two highlights during his time in the country have been winning the Friendship Award in 2014 and receiving his Chinese "green card" in 2016. Levine hopes it increases cross-cultural understanding. One of his friends says Levine is particularly apt for the task. "Mark is a perfect ambassador for humanity, so to speak, who has found his ideal place here," he says.