Experiment 0: Stop Joint Cracking

Since this is an experiment that took place in the distant past, we’re counting backwards and calling this experiment 0.

Background

How It Started

Knuckle cracking started for me as a wee tween, when a friend who was already in on the practice offered to crack mine for me. Thus began a decades-long habit that I could not for the life of me stop.

It started with the knuckles, but swiftly spread to the phalanges, neck, jaws, spine, feet, and sometimes even elbows. The sense of relief and relaxation following a series of cracks was compelling enough to be addictive. Thankfully, no one around ever complained (at least to my face) about the sound.

I’d first worked only on my right hand, and therefore noticed the difference when the knuckles and phalanges there began to increase in size. Intrigued, I began to work on my left hand as well, bending it about until the joints there also began to crack. Sure enough, the knuckles and phalanges there also began to enlarge - the effects being most prominent on the middle fingers, followed by the index and thumbs.

There’s not much research out there on the effects of knuckle cracking, so I’m not surprised that this phenomenon isn’t common knowledge. Donald Unger’s Ig Nobel Prize-winning work on the topic, which reported no obvious differences between either of his hands despite having regularly cracked one and not the other for over 50 years, definitely doesn’t reflect my own experience. I wonder if age or frequency was a factor? I did start really young, and cracked away almost every chance I got, which as I recall is not what he did.

There is also talk of decreased grip strength as an effect - unfortunately I can’t really test this on myself now, since by this point both hands are pretty evenly worked on - but I’m inclined to believe this to be the case. Enlarged knuckles/phalanges leading to a weakened grip makes intuitive sense, and at some point it did feel like I was no longer that person in the group who could unscrew the insanely tight jars. (On the other hand, I did learn that bashing the sides of a lid with the back of a knife works wonders.)

Reasons to Stop

For one, enlarged joints aren’t usually considered very aesthetic. Huge knuckles might go well on a beefy bouncer, but on me, well…

For another, at the rate I was cracking, the repeated stress and friction applied to the skin around the joints were starting to toughen up like calluses, later peeling away painfully and revealing raw flesh beneath. This mostly just happened to the sides of the phalanges, but was plenty annoying by itself. When the skin was rubbed shiny and raw, friends would refer to the red discs as pepperonis.

Thanks, friends. I’m glad my pain is amusing 😒

Also, having the elder wand for fingers doesn’t really help with wearing rings. Not that I have a lot of rings to wear, but the option would be nice on occasion, you know.

Finally, the worst part is that when overtaxed, some joints can get in a bad way and become rather painful or uncomfortable for quite a while, with no relief attainable from cracking them. It became quite the distraction during the day.

What I Tried

Rubber Band

This one gets brought up often for trying to quit any habit. I tried tying a rubber band about my wrist, to be snapped against the skin when I thought about cracking joints again - but as it turns out, the light thwap of a rubber band was insufficient to overcome many years of addictive habit. A pretty useless disincentive actually, no matter how painfully I snapped the band.

Fiddle Ring

I also used this as an excuse to get the Kinekt gear ring, hoping to dissipate some of the compulsion by sublimating the addiction to fiddling with rotating gears instead. This worked better, but ultimately failed to stop me from going on one knuckle cracking spree (left middle finger, distal interphalangeal joint - notice how the enlargement is greater on the left in the hand outline picture). Not too upset about this, because it did help somewhat and I did get a cool ring out of it.

The Method

Sheer willpower.

Yup, that’s what I decided to go with. I know, I know, it sounds like one of those wow-thanks-i’m-cured, why-didn’t-I-think-of-that “solutions”. And normally I wouldn’t forward this as a real option, since willpower is a very finite resource that gets exhausted all too soon if you’re constantly having to use it, especially on bad days.

I only ended up resorting to this since nothing else worked. And weirdly enough, I’ve broken habits this way before - by envisioning the outcome, and mentally flipping a switch to become a different person, one that no longer has the habit.

If it sounds like this all just came out of nowhere one day, that’s because it did. I was in the middle of a conversation only somewhat tangential to this topic when I realized how tired I was of things staying this way and talking about it with a sense of helplessness.

The key is doubling down on resolve, and making it impossible to blame failures on bad “techniques”. Succumbing means admitting defeat and poor self-control. Hopefully, with enough self-respect, most of the compulsion is staved off. No schedules, point system, rubber bands, rings, or trinkets. And no excuses.

Results

I haven’t been on a knuckle cracking spree since, and it’s been a few years. The habit itself has decreased significantly, too. Between the additional use of the Kinekt ring, and a roommate who admonished me everytime I succumbed, knuckle cracking fell to an all-time low. (All-time since starting, anyway.)

Even better, the compulsion subsided to much more manageable levels. And even without deliberate intervention, the addiction was slightly displaced by a much more acceptable habit of stretching and curling of the fingers.

Conclusion

I’d call this a success! After so many failed attempts, I finally broke the habit to acceptable levels. There have been minor relapses when under stress, but not a single cracking spree.

It’s hard to say if I really learned anything from this experiment, since the desired outcome simply happened. Maybe we can draw some conclusions on the eventual futility of relying on coping mechanisms or “techniques” when fighting habits and addictions? At best, it seems that those only work as an accessory to the main effort of self-control. That, and cultivating another habit to displace the current one seems reasonably fruitful.

Nowadays, I hardly even think about this, and get to enjoy the newfound peace of mind, devoid of the insistent compulsion that used to clamor for relief.