Hope Isn’t Wishful Thinking: It’s a Skill That Can Shape the Brain

In a world that feels like it's constantly on fire, mentally, emotionally, and sometimes literally, hope can seem like a luxury. But what if it’s actually a necessity?

I’m currently taking a resilience course as part of a requirement for my master’s program at Arizona State University (Go Sun Devils!), and this week we’ve been studying Snyder’s Hope Theory. 

I’ll be honest - it’s hit me on a personal level. It’s made me pause and look at my own life and ask: Where have I found hope when things felt impossible? And how has that shaped my ability to keep going?

There were times in my life when, if I didn’t have hope, I truly don’t think I’d be here writing this. 

In some of my most uncertain and painful moments, hope was as vital to me as the air I breathe. But not the fluffy kind. The kind that whispers, “Keep going. There’s still more ahead.”

So what is Snyder’s Hope Theory? 

Psychologist Charles Snyder defined hope not as a feeling, but as a skill you build and a way of thinking that fuels resilience. His theory breaks hope into three parts:

1)    Goals: knowing what we want

2)    Pathways: having ways to get there (and adapt when we hit roadblocks)

3)    Agency:  believing we can take action and move forward.

This framework is especially powerful when you realize that hopeful thinking isn’t passive. It’s not sitting around and waiting. It’s strategic. It’s flexible and it’s brain-based.

But what about the phrase “Hope isn’t a strategy”? I hear that phrase a lot, especially in leadership, business and personal development spaces. I get the intent behind it as we need action plans, not just optimism. But here’s the thing: Snyder’s Hope Theory is strategic.

Without hope, we don’t even try to come up with pathways. We don’t problem-solve. We don’t believe change is possible. 

But with hope? It starts to activate the prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain that’s responsible for creativity, decision-making, and planning. Hope literally gives us access to better thinking.

So yes, blind hope without action isn’t a strategy. 

But hopeful thinking - the kind grounded in goals, pathways, and agency - can be the foundation of every effective strategy. It’s what gets the brain engaged, focused, and ready to act.

Hope is positive neuroplasticity in action 

An exciting connection between Snyder’s Hope Theory and brain science is this: hope is a form of positive neuroplasticity.

Neuroplasticity is your brain’s ability to rewire itself based on repeated thoughts, behaviors, and experiences. And the brain doesn’t care if what you’re reinforcing is helpful or harmful as it will wire in whatever you keep feeding it.

That’s why hopelessness can feel so heavy. If we repeatedly think, “There’s no point” or “Nothing I do will make a difference,” the brain starts to hardwire that pattern. 

But the opposite is also true. When we practice hopeful thinking, such as setting goals, imagining different options, and believing we can take action, we're reinforcing brain circuits that make future resilience more likely.

In short: Hope is the daily practice of teaching your brain, “It’s possible.”

And over time, that can become your default. Not because life gets easier, but because your brain gets better at navigating hard things with clarity, flexibility, and perseverance.

This is why I don’t see hope as soft or fluffy. It’s structural. It can reshape how the brain responds to stress, challenge, and uncertainty. 

When we talk about becoming more resilient, this is part of what we’re really saying: I’ve trained my brain to adapt and stay engaged, even when life doesn’t go as planned.

Why this matters now 

We’re living through a time when many people feel tapped out - emotionally, mentally, even physically. I see it in the healthcare workers and community leaders I support. I hear it in quiet conversations with friends. And I’ve felt it in my own life, too.

What I’ve come to understand is that hopelessness doesn’t always look like dramatic despair. Sometimes it shows up as low energy, mental fog, or quietly checking out.

When the brain starts to believe there’s no way forward, or that “this is just how it is”, it stops looking for options. That’s often when we can slip into survival mode.

And that’s exactly where hope becomes essential. Not just to help us feel better, but to help us think more clearly, respond more intentionally, and reconnect with what matters most.

My own relationship with hope 

Learning more about hope has taken me back to times in my life when I nearly gave up. As a teenager, I remember questioning whether I even mattered. 

And just last year, after losing the last member of my birth family, I found myself wondering if the weight of that grief would ever lift.

What kept me going wasn’t a sudden solution or someone else’s advice. It was hope. A quiet, persistent kind. 

The kind that kept me curious. That nudged me to take one more step. That reminded me I still had agency, even if the outcome wasn’t clear.

Hope helped me stay open to things like my faith, relationships and my work. And staying open helped me grow.

Hope can be taught 

One of the most encouraging things about Snyder’s research: hope isn’t something you’re born with or without. It’s a way of thinking that can be strengthened.

In supporting, in classrooms, in parenting, in leadership - we can help people learn to set meaningful goals, explore multiple paths, and tap into the belief that they have what it takes.

It’s not about pretending everything is fine. It’s about building the internal resources to face what isn’t, and keep showing up anyway.

Finally, and I know I keep repeating this, hope isn’t fluffy. It’s functional. 

It’s not just how we survive hard things, it’s how we build a brain, a mindset, and a life that’s resilient.

As Snyder said, “By learning to hope, today’s generation is equipped to grapple with tomorrow’s adventures.”

I believe that. And I’m learning to lean into it.

References

Snyder, C. R. (2002). Hope theory: Rainbows in the mind. Psychological Inquiry, 13(4), 249–275.

Barbara Gustavson is a speaker, brain health advocate, and leadership facilitator and guides professionals to lead with clarity, purpose, and resilience. As founder of Discover Next Step and Head Facilitator for Dr. Daniel Amen’s brain health certification programs, she blends neuroscience, personal growth, and leadership strategies to create lasting impact. Barbara is the author of Permission to be BOLD, co-author of Breaking Average, and is currently pursuing her Master’s in Psychology. Her talks are both practical and personal, offering simple yet powerful tools to help audiences handle stress differently and lead without burning out.