Mr Snoop

Possessions reveal personality. Lee Randall subjects her stuff to analysis by a house-trained psychologist

WHEN I heard about a guy who claimed he could figure out who you were without meeting you, simply by exploring your home or office, my curiosity was piqued. Sam Gosling, 39, is an associate professor of psychology at the University of Texas and the author of Snoop: What Your Stuff Says About You Ahead of our meeting, I e-mailed him a batch of pictures of my office work space, my bedroom and my bathroom, wondering what he'd make of them.

In person Gosling, originally from London, more closely resembles a shambolic rock star than a respected, much-published professor and I wondered whether I would meet or defy his expectations, as well. Together we huddled over his laptop, poring over my psyche as revealed through my stuff. Snooping on him snooping on me was disconcerting – what did it mean when he zoomed in for a closer look?

A word of warning, he advised: Working from pictures is unreliable at best. "You can't see the configuration and don't get a feel for how things fit together, what it's like being in that space. The other caveat is you can't see the details or touch anything."

He peers into my bedroom, which is low on furniture – a bed, a chair, a wardrobe and a small table. "Is this the only space?" he asks, moving his cursor around. No, it's a four-room flat. "Well, if it was the only space, I'd conclude that you were very introverted because the room isn't crafted for social interactions. But because there's a sitting room, in this case, the placement of the chair at the window tells me something about your values – taking the time to relax, interested in watching the world go by. Some people would turn their back, even with a park out there."

His cursor moves to the collection of pictures awaiting hanging. "It's interesting that there's a potential inconsistency, given the level of order in your office (more of which later]. I'd try to assess reasons why you haven't hung them yet. Was the place just repainted? You clearly have a region for 'to be hung' things. Normally I'd think you just didn't get around to it, but the bed's made, and nothing in here tells me you're a 'not getting round to it' type of person. That's the cleanest fireplace I've ever seen! The other explanation is that it's really important – you care a lot about where they go. Every time you come up with an observation you have to weigh that against what else is there."

That's because a true master of snoopology evaluates three broad mechanisms connecting people to their spaces: identity claims, feeling regulators and behavioural reside. You're looking at quantity of stuff, the nature of that stuff, and its arrangement. Think, for instance, of that office staple, the picture of your wife and kids. Framed and positioned to face out at visitors means it's there to send a message about identity. Positioned where only you can see it means it's probably a feeling regulator – you look at it and feel connected.

By assessing the big picture instead of individual items alone, you're less likely to be tripped up by red herrings. In the book he describes a student who inspected a bedroom and, ignoring evidence to the contrary, insisted it was a girl's room because of a pair of stiletto heels alongside the bed. Turns out the bloke had a stylish visitor.

Back at the laptop, Gosling's doing OK so far. I'm learning how the process works, but can't say he's come up with any earth-shattering revelations about me. We move on to the pictures of my office. "A very clear desk, amazing. There are piles but they're highly organised. Some piles are for getting things out of the way and some indicate a person who has order. Yours are the latter. You have an 'effective' thing going on.

"Normally seeing this many pictures of people it would say extraversion, but the people here are kind of calm. Extraverts have everyone being crazy together. Even your picture of Johnny Lydon is a calm one. That's kind of interesting.

"There's a lot of cutesy animals – seals, a pig – and they're kind of heart-warming, so I'm thinking they work as a sort of drug. There aren't awards or pictures of you shaking hands with famous people, these pictures are here for what they'll do for you. That says you have this side to be nurtured even if you have to do it yourself, self-medicate."

He continues: "This combination of stuff says quirky. Things are here because they tickle you, and not everyone is open to being tickled or to publicising that fact. I might have said, 'Why doesn't she put the pictures in frames on her desk?' but having seen it, I know that wouldn't be acceptable. You need this clear space. So I'm not going to interpret the lack of things here as being important. I'd look for themes. What I think is that you are quirky and sceptical. In terms of looking at all these style icons and the other pictures, I know you'd rather go to a poetry reading than to Butlins."

So far, so unsurprising and indeed, the biggest criticism Gosling's faced is that it sounds like nothing more than "advanced" looking. What makes it science?

"In some sense it is advanced looking. But it's really about understanding our relationship to the world around us and why we do things. Most people don't think, 'What psychological function am I serving here?' Looking from a psychological background means saying here are basic processes, what are these things doing? Okay, the location of this item tells me something. It's what Holmes or Poirot would do."

Instead of solving crimes, though, Gosling studies personality differences and how people form impressions of others in daily life. Snoop is his distillation of years of research, looking into the ways that people project and protect their inner selves and assess others.

"Our identity is the story we tell about ourselves. It may be true, and it may not be true," he says. His story began in London and Gloucestershire. With a psychiatrist for a father, it's perhaps not surprising that Gosling went on to study psychology, in Leeds. But it was while doing graduate work in Berkeley, California that he found inspiration in a dynamic professor who introduced him to an exercise he still uses today.

"She asked everyone to pick a profession out of a hat and whatever you got – doctor, bin man, nurse, fireman – to use actual biographical details, real events, to explain how you became that job. The events are real but the outcome's totally false. It's a coherent narrative of something you're not."

Where, Gosling wondered, could you go to find out the truth? He discovered that while words and even face to face meetings can mislead, stuff doesn't lie."Behavioural residue tells you about traits. What you do. Identity markers tell about who we are, our goals and values. You need both if you want an integrated perspective, but many times you don't. If I'm hiring an employee I don't care where they came from, their childhood, for example. Whereas if I'm thinking of marrying them, I want to know that stuff."

It's easy to tidy up superficially when the in-laws are paying a visit, but virtually impossible to impose a deep, thorough sense of order if you're normally chaotic. A filing system may signify order, Gosling writes, but "look to see whether the organisational system has actually been maintained. Are there bills in the wrong section and one too many folders labelled 'miscellaneous?'"

There's no definitive template indicating 'this means that', he explains. "I'm saying, 'Here are the principles, think about what people are doing psychologically and try to apply them.' It can improve the ability to know what people are like. It can cut through false perceptions, allowing us to form more accurate impressions, and that determines what we do with them in a social and professional context."

Even in this swift, crude, undeniably flawed exercise, Gosling's managed reasonable results, picking up on some home truths about my personality. Would he have figured them out simply by talking to me? I think so. Just as having taken one look at his uncombed hair, I know without being told (though we are in the book) that he isn't the tidiest of blokes.

I'm wondering whether Gosling feels like a performing seal, being asked to assess so many pictures of rooms. Just then he gives a contented purr. "I love looking around people's spaces." From his grin, I'm inclined to believe him – despite my quirky scepticism.

• Snoop: What Your Stuff Says About You is published by Profile books, price £15.00