Pessimism now, optimism later

Optimism and pessimism aren't
exclusive: it's all about timing.

My homunculus admitted to me that I've been confusing him.

On the one hand, I've been saying that optimism is critical for performance: if we get all pessimistic, we give up prematurely and don't invest the time to achieve our goals.

On the other hand, it's also critical to acknowledge our failures.  If we don't embrace our weak points and bury our head in the sand, we won't get any better at life.

Vexing isn't it?  The optimism thing was particularly hard for the rational part of my brain to embrace: I didn't like the idea of externalizing too many of the bad things that happened to me.  That felt like I was avoiding responsibility for my actions.  Also, as a total control freak, it didn't sit well to think that I couldn't influence most things in my life for the better.

But, luckily, I had a real a-ha moment.  Accepting our failures and being optimistic are not mutually exclusive.  Instead, it's all about timing.

Specifically, it is a fact that no one is perfect.  Life isn't perfect.  Actually, sometimes life can really suck.  Furthermore, none of us and none of our lives will ever be perfect. Debby-downer.

However, this doesn't mean that we can't get better and that our lives can't get better.  Just because we have aspects of our lives that are imperfect doesn't mean that, with time, we can't improve.

This is the way to reconcile our weak points with the need to remain optimistic.  Right now, in the present, we should be realistic about where we stand and acknowledge what sucks.  At the same time, we can remember that the bad doesn't have to last forever.  In the future, things can get better.  Combining these two attitudes - pessimism for now, optimism for later - is the formula for lasting, long-term progress.

Self Help Snake Oil

Beware self-improvement snake-oil.

In The New Atlantis, Algis Valiunas waxes poetic about the self-help industry:

A vast apparatus of uplift and solicitude services Americans’ longings for success and happiness. Self-help, positive thinking, actualization, motivation, empowerment: the industry of worldly wisdom whirs on like a perpetual-motion dynamo, powered by the consumers’ insatiable compulsion to have it all and to feel good about themselves, and by the purveyors’ confidence that they, at any rate, can indeed have it all, by turning out swill by the boatload and feeding the cravings of the perennially feckless.

With this beautiful passage, Mr. Valiunas reveals a misgiving I've harbored since first starting to explore the science of self-awareness.  Specifically, is all self-improvement advice a bunch of mumbo-jumbo?

On the one hand, I've stumbled onto a ton of science that indicates that certain metacognitive skills are critical for performance: self-control, grit, creativity, optimism.  In these cases, there is at least a smidge of research suggesting that if you possess these characteristics, life is better. +1.

On the other hand, anyone can spew any advice about anything.  And, there are plenty of people who are, including me. Much of the advice hasn't been put to the test. -1.

So, what are we to do?  What is the snake-oil and what is the medicine?  The scientist in me would argue that we should study the various theories.  Whatever methods hold up to rigorous testing can be adopted and the rest discarded.  However, the pragmatist in me realizes that there aren't enough scientists to test every opinion on self-improvement.

So, what are we to do, as individuals?  Here's where I fall on the matter: I'm an empiricist.  I read some scientific tidbit, or digest some philosophic treatise and then I try it on for size.  How then do I feel?  How then do I perform?  I keep my eyes open for feedback on my performance and monitor my emotions.  What works, for me, works for me.    If I like the way things are moving, I'll keep doing what I'm doing.  If it ain't broke don't fix it.

At the heart of this approach, and at the heart of all science, is skepticism.  Is it real?  Is there proof?  Can I see it for myself?  The same can be said for self-help information.  Is it based on science?  Good science?  And, does it work for me?  We can all be scientists with our own minds.  And should.

Comfortable with the Uncomfortable

Uncomfortable? Yes.  Smart? No.

When I'm bad at something, I feel like 10 pounds of shit in a 5 pound bag.  In other words, making mistakes makes me really uncomfortable.

Unfortunately for my feelings though, becoming comfortable with the uncomfortable may be the single most important thing I can do to become a better person.  Researchers and educators are beginning to appreciate that embracing failure and learning from our mistakes is a critical skill if we want to be our best.  And that appreciation is beginning to catch on in the popular press.

For example, when the New York Times Magazine published "What if the Secret to Success is Failure?", the piece quickly became one of the most emailed articles.  But it didn't stop there.  A month later, Kathleen Parker of the Washington Post reminded us "How we succeed by failing" and Jonah Lehrer pointed out that mistakes explain "Why [...] Some People Learn Faster".

Soon bloggers picked up the scent: Zen Habits suggested we face our failings (and in public) and LifeHacker showed geeks like me "How to Identify and Learn from Your Mistakes".  The punchline: coming face-to-face with our failings is essential to improve on them.  By putting our heads in the sand, we may feel better in the short term, but in the long term nothing changes.  If we're lucky, the ostrich strategy will allow us to feel all warm and fuzzy about ourselves.  If we're unlucky, our failings will come up and bite us.

Intellectually, I think we all appreciate that we need to work on our weak points to get better.  But all this great advice misses a critical reality: it sucks to suck.  Being bad at things is emotionally painful.

So what do we do?  My vote: train our brain to like the pain.  Not all uncomfortable things are bad, and we have the ability to re-label feelings consciously so that our feelings of pain become badges of honor.  So, instead of reacting to discomfort with "this sucks", we can tag on an addendum: "this sucks but look how tough I am".

Put simply: discomfort is proof we're willing to become better.  Being willing to withstand some pain shows that we're ready to change.  From now on, every time I make a mistake and feel like an idiot, I'm going to embrace the feeling: if I weren't pushing myself then I wouldn't be making mistakes.

Is working hard a talent?

Working hard, or hardly working?

Being the best: is it hard-work or talent...  The topic seems to make internet-blogger-types get all giddy with excitement.  O!  The back and forth; the opinions and convictions.  So dramatic, who is right?

Of course, after all that, some wise-ass chimes-in and states the obvious: "everyone is right!"  Buzz-kill; but, true.

Aha! But I have a new, totally fantastic way of thinking about the issue that is certain to make the "Hard Work is King" crowd cringe.  I raise this question: what if the ability to work hard is a talent?

The problem is that all the talking heads out there look at working-hard as something independent of our brains; like hard work isn't a behavior that happens because our brains/minds make it happen.  Whoa, are we saying that our souls have to get involved now and whip up a frothy batch of free-will so that we can work hard and become a bad-ass?  We aren't becoming dualists here are we?

The ability to work hard is just that, an ability.  Working hard takes a ton of cognitive awesomeness, much of which is influenced by both genetics and our environment.  Let's enumerate some of the metacognitive ninja-skillz necessary to work hard, shall we?

First, we must exert significant impulse control, because we can't be distracted by extraneous information and influences.  Second, we must have the ability to recognize errors as they happen and generate creative solutions.  Third, we must demonstrate resilience and optimism so we can overcome our failures and keep working.  Fourth, we must know when and how to seek out the advice and feedback of others so that we don't fall into repeated patterns of behavior.  Fifth, we must have some motivation to work hard, otherwise, working hard is just dumb.

I'm worried about my genes.

Wow, when I spell it all out like that, the simple dichotomy of hard-work vs. talent breaks down.  Instead, hard-work becomes an ability all it's own that is not easily dissociated from a number of underlying cognitive capacities.  Isn't this fun?  Now we can start to ask more specific questions: is impulse control learned or innate?  Is optimism learned or innate?  Yes, the answer to questions like these will be "both", but at least then we can start to tease out strategies for working with what we have.

Maybe one day the debate will end.  Mr. Science will send me a nice letter indicating that I don't have "that gene" and I should give up science and become a monkey-trainer because, by way of some Gattica-like sorting process, that's what I'm programmed to do.  Until then, I can't change my genes, so worrying about "talent" is a waste of my time.  Instead, I'm going to work as hard as I can to improve my ability to work hard, because that's all I can do.

Meta-Feedback

I'm lookin' at the monkey in the mirror.

My boss has been on a feedback-seeking, awesomeness rampage.  In the last two weeks, I estimate that he has come to me, or other members of our little group, and asked a ton of questions of the "how am I doing" or the "what could we do better" variety.

Perhaps he's stumbled on to this blog, but I can't be tickled given that I've been a bit obsessed lately with the idea of seeking out feedback (see here and here).

In fact, tickled doesn't even really do my reaction justice.  A better word might be "grateful".  Another one might be "flattered", of the "it's nice to know he really gives a shit"-variety.  I mean, I already knew my boss cared, but it was still nice to get some hard behavioral data as evidence of his interest in the opinions of the group.

This series of interactions made me realize something: asking other people how they feel about our performance earns respect.  It indicates empathy, it indicates a desire to improve which, in turn, bodes well for future performance, it indicates a respect for the opinions of others.  All really, really good cognitive qualities.

So, what did I do in the face of all this ass-kicking, feedback seeking behavior on the part of my boss?  I went all Meta up in here and gave the guy some meta-feedback.  Specifically, I said something like: "You want some feedback?  How about this: I think it's awesome how much you've been seeking out feedback from us.  It makes us feel valued and it makes me confident the group is moving in the right direction."  We then high-fived.  I'm joking about the high-five.

Lesson for today? My vote is that if someone has the guts to come to us and ask for feedback, we should show how awesome that is by giving some meta-feedback in return.  It's sure to keep the feedback seeking behavior going strong.

Keep your mouth shut

It's on.

My sympathetic nervous system switches gears and revs.  Chest goes tight, constricts like a squeezed fist.  My neck flushes with heat, and blood.  My nerves tingle and prickle.

My hands go numb. My face goes numb. Like feet falling asleep, but in reverse: normal, through pins and needles, to lead balloons, rather than the other way around.

My jaw: it grinds and contorts and pulses.  Perhaps my inner Jeckyl and Hyde are discussing the merits of an outburst:  one part fighting back the rush to speak.  Don't say a word.  Keep your mouth shut.  The other part doesn't want to negotiate.

I'm angry.

Criticism frequently comes from a place of anger.  Often, when we do get some feedback, it is because the person on the other end has become frustrated.  They've been able to deal with our idiosyncrasies, but only for so long.  Then, things reach a point when that person just can't take it any more, and their opinion bubbles up and out as anger.

Our inner monkey starts to throw poo.  It meets anger head-on, anger for anger.  Yelling for yelling.  But, of course, a vicious feedback loop ensues, because if anger begets anger, then getting angry is the opposite of the right reaction.  The situation elevates.  Boom.

It's perfectly normal.

So, in the spirit of seeking feedback from every one around us, I propose the following thought experiment. The goal for this Mind Game is to practice receiving criticism gracefully by first observing the sensations of anger that accompany being criticized.  When we find ourselves reacting to angry criticism with anger, the goal is to keep our mouth shut.

Keep your mouth shut

Task: Watch for feelings of an angry reaction following criticism.  Do not speak until the initial physical sensations subside.

Info: What does it feel like to be angry?  This thought experiment encourages us to become more self-aware with regard to the mental and physical process of becoming angry in the face of aggressive criticism.  After we become more in tune with the sensations of anger, we will be more likely to control an impulsive outburst.  In the few moments it takes to pause and consider the situation, we are very likely to develop a more thoughtful and effective response.

Goal: Don't react until you've processed the opinion of the other person.  Determine if their criticisms have merit.  Thank the person who criticized you.

Coaches, coaches everywhere

One coach.

Everyone dreams about achieving great things.  In reality, very few people ever become world-class at anything.  What a bummer.

Obviously, most of us get stuck at mediocre because we give up.  Let's be honest, practicing is hard work and takes time; it's so much easier to pack it in and watch T.V.  I've been there.

However, many people - including myself - are willing to do the work.  For example, I'm committed to being a great scientist, it's my full-time job.  I crave improvement because my entire career rests on my ability to improve.  In fact, success may require that I am the very best in my field.  Because of this, I eschew the plateau. I must improve as fast as possible, for as long as possible.

On the one hand, I could always work harder, log more hours, and be more focused.  Yes, all of that contributes to my development.  But what really gives me pause is the possibility of a metacognitive blind-spot.  What if I'm not even aware of my weaknesses?  I'd be meta-clueless: clueless about being clueless. Egads.

In this purely hypothetical situation (*wink), my problem is that I don't know how to get better; I'm out of ideas for how to improve.  As Atul Gawande argues in his recent New Yorker piece, that's when I might benefit most from a coach: someone with expertise and a fresh perspective who can "tweak" my performance and allow me to break through a sticking point.

Many coaches.

A coach is particularly valuable because the feedback is often novel; ideas we might not have generated on our own.  Our coach's fresh perspective generates new ways of thinking about the "problem" of improving.

Unfortunately for most of us, and as Gawande points out, getting a coach is not a possibility.  Either we can't afford one, it would be a cultural faux pas, or a dedicated coach may not even exist (although, in my case, I was surprised to find an example of scientist-coaches).  So, what are we to do?  How might the rest of us improve if we have reached a plateau?  If we knew the best strategy for getting better, we'd execute.  The value of a coach, that fresh set of eyes, is not something we can provide for ourselves.

At its essence, coaching is feedback.  A coach examines our performance and provides feedback about how we might improve.  To that end, I propose a distributed model of coaching.  Instead of resting our hopes and dreams on a single, capital-C Coach to lead us to the promised land, why not think of each interaction as a mini-opportunity for coaching?  All our peers, mentors, subordinates, and colleagues can provide fresh perspective on our performance, no coach needed.  Often, to get this valuable perspective all we have to do is ask.

In practice, this process of seeking feedback from all types of people is easier-said than done.  In future posts, I will explore some of the challenges, and strategies, of effective feedback-seeking behavior.  I'd love your feedback, dear reader, so please post your thoughts in the comments!

Week of Feedback

Give your monkey-brain a pat on the virtual back: some positive feedback for a job-well-done!  The Week of Feedback is over here at The Happy Homunculus, and we've done some good work getting (and receiving) feedback.  Getting feedback about our performance is a straight shot to awesomeness, so let's searching for criticism.  It's the fastest way to be amazing!

Friendly Feedback

Hmm, perhaps I should have dubbed this week the Week of Getting Feedback instead of the Week of Feedback.  I mean, all the Daily Mind Games this week have been dedicated to getting more information for, and about, ourselves.  Maybe my homunculus has a selfish streak or something, but I just love getting feedback, since it's all about me, me, me.  However, giving feedback is a critical skill too, and one I desperately need to improve.

Feedback Friend

You know what stinks?  Getting feedback.  You know what stinks more?  Working hard to get feedback.  While we know that feedback is good for our development and performance, it still stings to hear about how we could do better.  So, why make it worse by having to struggle to get valuable criticism?  Instead, let's use the buddy-system!

Physical Feedback

If you've been channeling an ostrich as your spirit animal, it's time for an upgrade.  How are we going to be more awesome if we just stick our head in the sand and pretend we're perfect?  I've got a newsflash for you Walter Cronkite, you won't.   That's why we've dedicated this whole week at The Happy Homunculus to getting ourselves some feedback.  However, while previous Daily Mind Games focused on verbal communication, today we're going all non-verbal on this feedback thing.  Say wha?

Tell Me About Myself

I just realized that seeking feedback is a very selfish thing.  As I've discussed before, the act of talking can be thought of as an act of charity: you are giving away your hard-earned experience for use by others.  In contrast, the act of listening is an exercise in selfishness: you are more likely to gain new information and expertise.  After simple listening, asking questions is even more selfish!  By asking questions, you can steer a conversation in a direction that is interesting or useful to you.  Today, we're going to take selfishness to a whole new level.

Question and Question

This week at The Happy Homunculus, it's all about feedback for us and our homunculi, and if we're ever going to get and use quality feedback to be awesome, then we need to work on a few mental-ninja-skillz.  Yesterday, we practiced not speaking and used our aural acumen as a first step to learning something new.  Today, we're going to take things a step further and prompt for more information: forget Q&A, today is all about Q&Q.

All Ears

Welcome back to The Happy Homunculus!  If you want to get better at anything, then this week of Daily Mind Games will scratch you right where you itch.  We're all about information this week.  Specifically, our goal is to collect information about ourselves.  Yes, the name of the game is feedback, and if we want to improve at life, then a Week of Feedback is what we need.