Ed Batista

It's Time to Stop Interviewing

While there's ample data on job interviews' poor ability to predict a candidate's success [1], the practice isn't going away any time soon. [2] But for most of my coaching clients--and for some of my MBA students--the era of interviewing in their lives is coming to an end. I don't mean that they'll stop participating in the process, but, rather, that they should begin to approach it from an entirely different perspective.

Up to a certain point in our careers, a job interview is often an exercise in fitting ourselves into a box, the size and shape of which is defined by the employer. We have a general understanding of the size and shape of the box--that's why we're interested in the job--but the precise details remain something of a mystery. And so the interview process consists largely of us gleaning additional clues about the size and shape of the box, while simultaneously proclaiming our ability to fit comfortably within it, no matter what we learn.

Later on, if we've landed the job and accepted the offer, we're not surprised that the employer wasn't entirely accurate about the size and shape of the box, in part because we weren't entirely accurate about our ability to fit into it comfortably. These inaccuracies need not be the result of deceit or dishonesty--it's simply that the information asymmetry inherent in the process means that neither party truly knows if it's going to be a good fit.

But when we contort ourselves to fit an employer's expectations of a candidate (or our imagined perceptions of those expectations), we perpetuate and even heighten that information asymmetry. By representing ourselves in this way, we increase the likelihood of false positives, in which one or both parties believe it will be a good fit, only to ultimately be proven wrong. As inefficient as this may be, there's an underlying logic here that makes sense early in our careers. At that stage of our professional lives, the cost of failing to win an offer for a compelling opportunity may seem quite high--and potentially much higher than the cost of finding ourselves in a job that's not a good fit.

And yet beyond a certain point, this calculus changes dramatically. The cost of taking a job that's not really a good fit becomes much higher than failing to obtain the offer in the first place. We may "win" the offer by successfully contorting ourselves to fit into the box (or at least convincing ourselves and our interviewers that it's a possibility), but in the process we've actually lost: We've lost time and attention we'll never regain. We've lost a chance to learn something useful about ourselves and the organization. And if we stick with this approach long enough, we lose the opportunity to understand who we really are and discover the work we're meant to do.

Most of my coaching clients are CEOs who expect to remain in their current position for the foreseeable future, but I do work with a number of clients through professional transitions. When this occurs, it often becomes apparent to my clients that they're past the point in their careers when there's any value to "winning" an offer by contorting themselves to fit into somebody else's box. At this stage my clients know that everyone involved in the process will gain the most if they simply show up as themselves, reduce the information asymmetry as soon as possible, and absolutely eliminate any chance of a false positive. This also shifts the power dynamic from one in which the company is interviewing the candidate to one in which both parties are interviewing each other.

To be clear, I'm not suggesting that we should show up at interviews with an obnoxious, take-it-or-leave-it attitude, or that we should be rigid and unyielding in what we require of prospective employers. Nor do I believe that there's one "perfect" job out there for us, and we should spurn anything that falls short. But in my experience the training we receive early in our careers to fit ourselves into other people's boxes far outlives its utility, and most of us wait far too long before realizing that it's time to stop interviewing this way.

The dilemma, of course, is that there's no single point in time when it's obvious that we should modify our approach to the process. You might object that this latter approach works for senior leaders who are sufficiently well-established and financially secure to walk away, and you don't feel like you're there yet. Fair enough--but when will you be? It's highly unlikely that any given professional milestone or accomplishment will automatically endow you with this attitude, and no one's going to tell you, "You're ready now--it's time." The only person who can make that call is you.

 

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Footnotes

[1] For more on the limitations of job interviews:

• The Utter Uselessness of Job Interviews (Jason Dana, The New York Times, 2017)
• Belief in the unstructured interview: The persistence of an illusion (Jason Dana, Robyn Dawes and Nathanial Peterson, Judgment and Decision Making, 2013)
• How to Take the Bias Out of Interviews (Iris Bohnet, Harvard Business Review, 2016)
• Stubborn Reliance on Intuition and Subjectivity in Employee Selection (Scott Highhouse, Industrial and Organizational Psychology, 2008)

[2] Daniel Kahneman on Conducting Better Interviews

For Further Reading

Leadership and Authenticity

Cautionary Tales (Authenticity at Work)

Conform to the Culture Just Enough

Photo by Tim Evanson.

You Can't Steer a Parked Car

I didn't coin the title of this post, and I wish I could remember where I heard it first, because it does come up frequently in my coaching practice.

When we suspect we're not headed in the right direction, we often slow down and lose momentum, and sometimes we stall out entirely.

But it's very difficult--and perhaps impossible--to change direction when we're not moving at all.

The key is to move forward judiciously and thoughtfully, and to use the resulting momentum to adjust our trajectory in the process.

What does this look like in practice?

• Talk about it.
• Write about it.
• Talk about it some more.
• Get comfortable with vulnerability--it's unavoidable.
• Recognize that change consists of countless small steps.
• And remember that you're a work-in-progress, learning how to learn.

 

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Thanks to Ryan Caldbeck.

Photo by IwateBuddy.

The Obstacle Is The Way

The obstacle IS the way.

I was reminded of this by John Stephenson [1], who was responding to the conclusion of my piece on Comfort with Discomfort:

We tend to view discomfort adversarially, as a foe to be vanquished or avoided, but an alternative is to view it as a sign of something important for us to learn, or an indicator of a meaningful growth opportunity. When something feels daunting, we can get curious. When something feels scary, we can step forward. [2]

John was drawing upon a passage from Book Five of the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius:

Now it is true that [people] may impede my action, but they are no impediments to my affects and disposition, which have the power of acting conditionally and changing: for the mind converts and changes every hindrance to its activity into an aid; and so that which is a hindrance is made a furtherance to an act; and that which is an obstacle on the road helps us on this road. [3]

It's been useful to reflect on these ideas as I've faced some obstacles of my own recently. When I first encountered them it was disconcerting to see how readily I experienced them not only as "impediments to my action," but also as "impediments to my affects and disposition." I was hurt and upset and angry.

It's taken some effort to step back from my immediate response and view these situations from a broader perspective. They are obstacles, and my action is impeded. And yet they have something important to teach me--not despite the difficulty and discomfort I'm experiencing, but because of it. So what am I learning?

Attachment brings suffering, and suffering is a choice

There’s a powerful scene in David Simon’s dramatic series The Wire in which an anxious store security guard pleads with a dangerous gang leader who’s just shoplifted, asking him to appreciate the difficult situation in which the guard now finds himself. The gang leader is unmoved. "You want it to be one way," he murmurs, "but it’s the other way." [4]

My attachment to wanting these situations "to be one way" when in fact "it's the other way" is the ultimate cause of my hurt and upset and anger here. While our emotions can be valuable inputs in the reasoning process, they're not unerring guides to right action, and it's been necessary for me to interrogate these feelings and to understand their origins. [5] My emotions aren't being inflicted upon me--I am triggering them through my attachment to an alternative reality, one in which these obstacles I've encountered don't exist. But they do exist, which means I face a choice. I can remain attached to my vision of an obstacle-free path and suffer when reality intrudes upon my fantasy, or I can accept these obstacles and see them as integrated with my path. Rather than choosing to suffer, I can choose to learn.

Some growth requires struggle

I first learned this lesson nearly a decade ago as I watched groups that were experiencing difficulties benefit most not when the leader took action to resolve the problem but when the leader did nothing and allowed the group to struggle toward its own solution. [6] To be clear, I'm not suggesting that leaders should always stand back, but it's important to recognize when a leader's efforts to help a group avoid difficulties can actually serve to block the growth that will come only through struggle.

Today I can see that the same principle applies to my own development as an individual, and that my efforts to avoid difficulties--to navigate around these obstacles--will prevent me from growing in important and perhaps even necessary ways. Rather than viewing them as "obstacles" in the first place, I can see them as sources of growth.

Resilient self-care matters

I try to exercise and meditate every day. [7,8] I pay close attention to my sleep habits and adjust them as needed to insure that I'm well-rested. [9] I like good food and drink, and I aim to consume both in moderation. And I occasionally throw these routines out the window, because a perfect attendance record has never been one of my goals in life. Over the last few weeks it's been particularly important to both invest in these routines and to relax them.

We sometimes equate "resilience" with "toughness," and we fail to appreciate that many "tough" materials are brittle and subject to failure under stress. Truly resilient materials are sufficiently elastic to allow them to absorb a blow, deform under pressure, and return to normal after a brief interval, and that's how I'd characterize my approach to self-care during this time. Rather than feel demoralized because these obstacles have disrupted my smoothly running routines, I can trust in my resilience and return to a state of equilibrium over time.

A final thought: I'm reminded that I often tell my students in The Art of Self-Coaching [10] that self-coaching is not a solitary process, but a highly social one, and it's essential to develop and maintain relationships with trusted partners we can rely on during times of difficulty. [11] I'm deeply grateful to the people I've been able to discuss these situations with, not just (or even primarily) for their advice, but for their ability to listen, to empathize, to bear witness. These obstacles have served to remind me of the importance of these relationships with my most valued fellow travelers. Once again, the obstacle IS the way.

 

Thanks to John Stephenson for the inspiring reminder.

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Footnotes

[1] @JSargent88, May 8, 2018

[2] Comfort with Discomfort

[3] Meditations, Book Five (Marcus Aurelius, 167)

[4] Refugees, The Wire, Season Four (Written by Dennis Lehane, portrayed by Jamie Hector, HBO, 2006). Here's a brief clip.

[5] Antonio Damasio on Emotion and Reason

[6] Five Leadership Lessons

[7] Get Moving! (Exercise for Busy People)

[8] Don't Just Do Something, Sit There! (Mindfulness for Busy People)

[9] A selection of readings on sleep.

[10] The Art of Self-Coaching

• Public Course (A freely available version of the course that's open to anyone--all you need is a partner.)
• Stanford Archive (A resource for my current MBA students.)

[11] Self-Coaching is SOCIAL

 

Photo by Dan Cook.

Dusty Baker on Self-Esteem

When Dusty Baker became the San Francisco Giants manager in 1993, I wasn't critical, but I was skeptical. Yes, he'd been a coach for the team for five years, but before that he'd spent eight years (in a 19-year career) playing as a Los Angeles Dodger. Could a Dodger really lead the Giants? Well, this one could.

And Baker's leadership made a significant impression on me during the ten years he managed the Giants. I came to deeply appreciate his candor, his determination, and his calm intensity. He was an adult in the often juvenile world of professional sports. His teams made the playoffs but fell short in 1997 and 2000, and their failure to close out the 2002 World Series when they were just eight outs from victory ultimately led to Baker's firing.

This pattern would repeat itself in subsequent managerial stints in Chicago and Cincinnati, where Baker would enjoy just enough success in the regular season to raise expectations, only to have those hopes dashed in the playoffs. After 20 years as a manager, it seemed Baker had finally found the perfect opportunity to compete for a World Series title when he took over the Washington Nationals in 2016 and led them to first-place finishes in their division for two years running.

But Baker was fired by the Nats after last season, a move that probably marks the end of the 68-year-old's major-league career, meaning that he won't win a World Series ring as a manager to match the one he earned as a player with the Dodgers in 1981. Given that his 1,863 wins as a manager ranks him 14th on baseball's all-time list, it was assumed that a World Series victory would assure his elevation to the sport's Hall of Fame, but now his candidacy is uncertain.

Baker was recently interviewed by Dave Sheinin of the Washington Post, and the piece concludes with a bracing bit of advice:

"You don’t judge yourself. I’ll let other people do that," [Baker] said. "Ain't nobody ever given me nothing in the first place. So if [the Hall of Fame] happens, fine. If it don’t happen, hey, what can I do? I did my best with what I had. I’m at the point, I really don’t care what you say. Why should I let other people control my self-esteem? My dad taught me you don't have anybody to satisfy but God, family and yourself. They’re the only entities you can't fool if you’re an honest guy."

"So I tell my son that. People gonna always say what you can't do. People been telling me what I can't do my whole life. And guess what? Fifty years later, they still telling me. And I. Don't. Give. A. [Expletive]."

I don't know what expletive Baker used, because the Post deleted it. That's fine, I'll imagine it. And I'll repeat it to myself whenever someone tells me what I can do and what I can't.

Photo via NBC Sports Bay Area.

Culture, Compensation and Negotiation

A constant theme in the lives of my coaching clients is the difficulty of conducting transactions when stakes are high and value is difficult to ascertain. This frequently comes up in the context of compensation negotiations. Most of my clients are leaders of growing companies who are almost always hiring one or more senior execs--sometimes in order to fill a new role, and at other times to upgrade a position with someone more capable. And occasionally I work with people navigating a transition who find themselves on the other side of this process.

The figures involved in senior-level compensation packages may be large and complex, but ultimately they're still just prices, and when we're involved in a negotiation it's essential to give some thought to the psychology of pricing. Prices are always laden with meaning, and compensation figures carry the additional burden of putting a value not only on our labor, but also, in a sense, on ourselves, which inevitably involves subjective assessments of our own worth and that of the value we create. Complicating matters further is a cultural divide that I've come to think of as list-price vs. haggling.

In a list-price culture, there's a high degree of transparency and very little flexibility. An opening offer may not be take-it-or-leave it, but there's relatively little gamesmanship in the process. There may be some room for negotiation on the margins, but the basic requirements necessary to close a deal are clear and straightforward, and it's reasonably obvious when the two parties are sufficiently close to reach agreement and when they're not.

In a haggling culture, the opposite is true. There's very little transparency and a great deal of flexibility. Opening offers are never take-it-or-leave-it, and gamesmanship abounds. Everything is up for negotiation, and the basic requirements necessary to close a deal are uncertain and highly dynamic. It's rarely apparent whether the two parties are sufficiently close to reach agreement, because their currently stated positions may bear little relation to their actual willingness to reach a deal.

Our identification with one culture or the other derives from many potential sources--our nationality, community, family of origin, formative experiences, and professional training, to name just a few. We may also change sides in different contexts--we don't necessarily always employ the same approach. But in my experience most people have a basic tendency toward one culture or the other that asserts itself in compensation negotiations, largely because of the strong emotions that these experiences typically evoke.

In some situations, the setting itself determines the culture of the transaction--for example, in the United States it's expected that used car purchases will involve some back-and-forth, and even list-price people who resist haggling will be unlikely to accept the initial figure proposed by the seller. But compensation negotiations for senior execs can be much harder to decode. When a leader is contemplating how to craft an offer for a candidate, and when a candidate is determining how to respond, it's typically the first transaction between these two parties, and they may know very little about the other's transactional culture. And when the two cultures collide it can make an already-difficult process even more challenging.

The fundamental issue is the different way each culture communicates meaning through prices. In a list-price culture, the opening offer is an information-rich signal, and it will be closely aligned with the leader's assessment of the candidate's value. In a haggling culture, the opening offer is much less meaningful and may say very little about the candidate's value to the organization; that information will be conveyed slowly and strategically over the course of the negotiations.

So what can we do? First, it's essential to understand our own cultural tendency. While we may be more flexible in certain situations, in compensation negotiations it's likely that we revert to one or the other. We also need to learn as much as possible about the other party's tendency, which will inevitably involve drawing conclusions based on incomplete information. The key here is to insure that we're neither exaggerating on the basis of stereotypes nor ignoring potential signs that may be meaningful clues. Before we act on the basis of these conclusions, it's important to clearly understand where they're coming from--we need to analyze the data we've observed, our interpretation of that data, and the theories and beliefs that underpin our interpretations.

We then have to make a provisional assessment of whether we're dealing with someone who shares our cultural tendency, and this will inform our opening move and initial responses. The first few interactions in the course of the negotiation will tell us a great deal about the accuracy of this assessment, so it's critical to be looking closely for any information that might support or challenge our view. In short order we'll learn whether the other party shares our cultural tendency, and if they do, the situation is simplified tremendously.

But if they don't, then we need to more clearly understand the implications of conducting a negotiation across this cultural divide and the potential surprises that await us. When a list-price leader meets a haggling candidate, the leader may be surprised by a seemingly outrageous counter-offer, and the candidate may be surprised by the leader's rigid inflexibility. And when a haggling leader meets a list-price candidate, the leader may be surprised by the candidate's apparent lack of responsiveness, and the candidate may be surprised by the insultingly low opening offer. With this heightened awareness, we can better identify and manage the emotions that inevitably come up in response to these unexpected developments--our own and those of the other party--making it much more likely that we'll reach a successful outcome, either by closing a mutually satisfactory deal or by accurately concluding that a deal isn't possible.

 

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For Further Reading

Negotiating with Your Own Side

When Offers Fall Apart

The Value of a Good Fight

Resources for Managing Up

Photos: Prices by Skidflints. Handshake by OXLAEY.com.

Taking the Leap (Dealing with Risk and Uncertainty)

My coaching clients and MBA students deal with risk and uncertainty constantly. Most of my clients are senior leaders who must make consequential decisions with imperfect information, from adopting a potential strategy to hiring a candidate for a critical role. The majority of my clients are technology company CEOs whose entire businesses are highly risky ventures. And all of my students at Stanford have to select a post-graduation career path from among the many different options available to them, and they often feel intense pressure to optimize this choice.

Most of us have a reflexive aversion to risk and a preference for certainty. This is understandable--risk entails the possibility of loss, and loss aversion causes us to weight potential losses more heavily than potential gains. Unpredictability unnerves us and makes us uneasy. The more we know about the outcome of a situation, the safer and more comfortable we feel. As a result we typically work hard to minimize risk and uncertainty, because these qualities trigger unpleasant emotions we’d rather avoid.

Emotions are essential inputs in our reasoning process, and in most cases we appropriately move away from situations and experiences that generate negative emotions. But emotions aren’t always accurate guides to the right course of action—they’re “quick and dirty signals,” in the words of neuroscientist Joseph Ledoux. The speed and power of emotions allows them to play a useful role in decision-making by helping us process massive amounts of data more efficiently than we could through logic alone. But these same characteristics also allow emotions to easily overtake our relatively slow and resource-intensive logical reasoning process, and potentially guide us inaccurately.

This often happens when it comes to situations involving risk and uncertainty. These qualities trigger strong feelings that cause us to feel unsafe, so we avoid the experiences that trigger them—but this comes at a significant price. Lower risk and greater certainty always carry opportunity costs. This is readily apparent in the financial world—the safest investments offer the lowest returns, and the biggest opportunities are also the riskiest.

We balance risk and opportunity cost as investors by diversifying our portfolio, but this is more difficult in other domains of life. Many of our other choices are starker and don’t lend themselves to diversification. We can choose one strategy, hire one candidate, accept one job offer at a time. We may change course, or revisit an option we previously abandoned, but we won’t get back the time and effort spent previously. And all of these choices are rife with uncertainty. Will the strategy succeed? Will the candidate be the right fit? Will the job lead to a fulfilling career? We don’t know, and the massive information asymmetry between us and the future is daunting.

And yet the tension between risk and opportunity is equally present in these other domains. The unproven strategy may fail entirely, but it may also be the key to the company’s success. The time-tested strategy won’t get anyone fired (immediately), but it will probably yield minimal competitive advantage. The unconventional candidate may wash out, but they may also be a tremendously high-potential talent. The traditional candidate will get the job done, but they’re also less likely to outperform expectations. The risky, uncertain job may be the first step toward a dead end (and yet another search), or it may be a door into a world of opportunity. The safe, steady job will be just that—and those very qualities may ultimately lead to a less fulfilling long-term career.

So what can we do? Rather than minimizing risk and avoiding uncertainty (and incurring the inevitable opportunity costs), we’re better served by more effectively managing the emotions that these qualities trigger. To be clear, managing emotions doesn’t mean suppressing them. Efforts to ignore our feelings or pretend that they don’t exist aren’t sustainable over time (and may even exacerbate the very emotions that are causing us difficulty). Managing our emotions is an entirely different process.

Awareness

First, we can enhance our ability to sense the emotions that are triggered by risk and uncertainty. This starts with slowing down, both figuratively and literally. Practices such as meditation, regular exercise and sufficient sleep can help us be more attuned to emotions, in part by increasing our sensitivity to physiological sensations. (Emotions are physiological events before they register in consciousness.) When we’re better able to manage our attention, in close touch with our bodies, and feeling well-rested, it’s easier to perceive and identify our emotional state. The goal here is to heighten our awareness of the early signs of anxiety and other emotions that we feel in the presence of risk and uncertainty. This involves observing not only our inner responses (cognitive, emotional, physiological), but also our external behavior (facial expressions and tone of voice, gestures and body language, how we occupy and move through space).

Comprehension

As we’re better able to sense the emotions triggered by risk and uncertainty, we need to be able to label them clearly and accurately. This often requires expanding our emotional vocabulary. I distribute an actual vocabulary to my students in Interpersonal Dynamics at Stanford, and many of them find it immensely helpful. In some cases we exaggerate low-level feelings while in others we ignore them because we lack language that’s sufficiently nuanced to capture the essence of the experience. Clearly comprehending our emotions may not be sufficient to allow us to manage them effectively, but it’s an essential step along the way.

Reframing

Our cognitive interpretation of a situation has a significant impact on our emotional experience. By slowing down in order to sense and comprehend our feelings more clearly, we make it easier to consciously reassess a given situation and shift our emotional response in a more productive direction. In situations involving risk and uncertainty this includes emphasizing the potential gains to be won--Doug Sundheim, who has influenced my thinking on this topic, encourages people to "find something worth fighting for" in order to understand "why risk taking is important to you in the first place." It’s also helpful to recognize that our view of the situation may be inaccurate—as Daniel Kahneman has noted, our brains are "radically insensitive to both the quality and the quantity of the information that gives rise to impressions and intuitions." As a consequence, our calculations of risk and uncertainty are often unreliable--while the negativity bias that we’ve evolved as a species has helped to insure our survival, it also causes us to see dangers lurking where there may be none. We can also choose to redefine our response to such situations. For example, I was once terrified of public speaking, and I viewed the anxiety I felt before facing a crowd as evidence of my ineptitude. But in the process of getting over this fear I decided to reinterpret my anxiety as evidence of my conscientiousness—I had high standards for myself and wanted the audience to have a good experience.

Expression

Finally, we can manage our emotions most effectively by finding healthy ways to express them. This begins with reflection but inevitably involves taking action—writing about our feelings and talking about them with others. These simple steps allow us to process and work through emotions more efficiently than reflection alone. Note that there’s a potential virtuous cycle here: Sensing, clarifying and understanding our feelings allows us to reflect upon them, to write about them, and to enter into a dialogue with others about them. Reflecting on emotions, journaling about them, and—most importantly--discussing them aloud helps us gain some perspective on our emotional experience and feel more control over it. And these activities expand our fluency with the language of emotion, allowing us to comprehend our feelings more clearly.

Managing emotions takes a lot of work, and we may conclude that while it’s a laudable effort we just don’t have the time or energy for it. But in my experience as a coach, the no-risk, 100% certain paths that we choose when we’re unable to manage the emotions triggered by risk and uncertainty often end in regrets. The time-tested strategy yields no real advantage, the conventional candidate is just a B-player, and the safe, steady job turns into a dull, unrewarding career. These outcomes will result in a whole new set of difficult emotions that must be dealt with eventually. Pay now or pay later.

 

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For Further Reading

The Importance of Slowing Down

Don't Just Do Something, Sit There! (Mindfulness for Busy People)

Get Moving! (Exercise for Busy People)

Vocabulary of Emotions

Doug Sundheim on Taking Smart Risks

Seeing What's Not There (The Importance of Missing Data)

The Value of Journal Writing

Phil Stutz on Taking Risks

Taking the Plunge (Safety, Risk, Learning and Growth)

Risk Management (The Importance of Speaking Up)

The Danger of Playing it Safe

Photo by DVISDHUB.

What Is Winning?

What is winning?

Rostislav Shorgin, a former student of mine who's in the process of launching a startup, asked himself this question at the end of a recent conversation.* We'd been talking about Rosti's tendency to get caught up in the desire to complete a demanding task as the hour grows late, in part because it would feel like a win to end the day. But as a result he sometimes finds himself losing perspective and staying up well past the point when it'll be possible to get a good night's sleep, which renders the following day much less productive.

Finishing the task and checking it off his list feels like a win in the moment, but in reality it's a net loss when he factors in the overall impact. Seeing this pattern in his behavior, Rosti paused and posed the question above, and it hung in the air, with a number of answers coming to mind:

Winning is directing our attention toward certain tasks and away from others so that we're able to make consistent, steady progress toward our most important goals. This involves not only willing ourselves to do work that we find unpleasant, but also tearing ourselves away from "pseudo-work" that seems useful but is actually of low importance.

Winning is managing our emotions (which, of course, are attention magnets) so that we're able to do the difficult work of focusing on critical tasks and minimizing distractions. This involves not only working through negative feelings, such as frustration and anxiety, that might hold us back, but also regulating positive feelings, such as excitement and eagerness, that might lead us astray.

Winning is saying no in order to dedicate our energies toward the work that is most meaningful and fulfilling to us. This involves not only developing accurate filters that allow us to identify and avoid unrewarding projects and tasks, but also the fortitude to   turn down "good opportunities" in order to preserve the space that's necessary for greatness, both on our calendars and in our minds.

Winning is setting boundaries so that we're able to follow through on these intentions by insuring that while we pursue meaningful work we also nourish and replenish ourselves, so that we face each day's difficulties in the best possible state of mind. This involves not only turning work off on a regular basis, but also cultivating and protecting the habits that build our capabilities for all of the tasks above: meditation or other mindfulness practices, regular exercise, consistent sleep, and minimizing unnecessary stress.

 

*Rosti first encountered this question in Joel Peterson's section of Managing Growing Enterprises at Stanford. I was also a student of Joel's, many years ago, and today I still refer back to lessons I learned from him. Thanks to Rosti and Joel for the inspiration.

Photo by Daniel Lobo.

Get Moving! (Exercise for Busy People)

I'm an executive coach, not an athletic trainer, but I regularly discuss exercise and fitness with my clients, all of whom are extremely busy professionals in demanding leadership roles. This aspect of my practice has evolved over the past decade as a combination of research, my clients' experiences, and my own life have highlighted the important role that exercise plays in our overall well-being and our professional effectiveness. While I don't advise clients on specific exercise activities or fitness regimens, here are 10 principles that guide my approach:

1. The perfect is the enemy of the good.

This sly line from Voltaire is relevant to any number of topics I discuss with clients, but it's particularly applicable to exercise and fitness. Physical activity compels us to deal with imperfection. We decide to get active again but discover that we can't run as fast, bike as far, or lift as much as we once could. The demands imposed by work, family, and other obligations prevent us from experiencing the optimal workout routines we enjoyed in the past--we can't exercise every day, or we have to cut our workouts short. And these imperfections in ourselves and our lives can be profoundly demotivating. If we can't work out the way we did when we were younger, with a simpler life and a fitter frame, then we may just say the hell with it. And that is what Voltaire is warning us about. When we allow the perfect workout, the perfect schedule, or the perfect body (all perfectly unattainable) to deter us from pursuing and accepting the merely good, then our failure becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. It's essential to recognize this response and arrest it by allowing the merely good to be good enough.

2. ANYTHING is better than NOTHING, so start SOMEWHERE.

Even when we've accepted the imperfections in our selves and our lives and committed to being more active, our goals related to exercise and fitness can be so large and abstract that they make it difficult to figure out where to start. Here it's important to get some momentum and keep moving forward--a useful guideline anytime we're trying to effect change. One specific way to do that is to scale down and identify a few micro-goals--daily or weekly accomplishments that will allow us to track our efforts and feel a sense of progress. "Get fitter" or "Be more active" sound great in theory, but what do they mean in practice? Better alternatives might be "Walk 20 minutes every morning" or "Go to the gym 3 times a week" or "Take a ride on Saturdays." Don't worry about what activities or goals are "best"--just get started and adjust as needed once in motion.

3. Exercise for improved performance, NOT for weight loss.

The evidence for the mental and psychological benefits of exercise is compelling. When we're active on a regular basis we tend to "feel better" in multiple ways--we're happier, more fulfilled, and less stressed; we have higher self-esteem; and we're more in touch with our bodies and our emotions. But many people pursue exercise because they're concerned about their weight, and that's actually an ineffective strategy: a substantial body of research in recent years has shown that diet has a far greater impact on weight than exercise. This isn't to say that physical activity is irrelevant, but if your primary goal is weight loss or maintenance, focus on what you eat. And don't be dismayed if working out doesn't yield results on the scale--those expectations are based on an outdated and disproven "calories in, calories out" model of physiology.

4. Seek consistency AND novelty.

One definition of routine is a regular sequence of steps, and we're more likely to stick with an exercise plan when it's a consistent one. Working out at the same time of day, or on the same days of the week allows us to take advantage of the power of habit. Greater consistency also allows us to celebrate small victories on a regular basis, an important element in any effort to change behavior. But another definition of routine is typical or boring, and this highlights a potential challenge. Human beings love novelty--we're highly stimulated by the new and the unexpected--so it's important to mix up our exercise routines to maximize our engagement. We can plan different workouts for different days, seek out activities that present us with novel situations (like rock-climbing or competitive sports), and even take up entirely new pursuits from time to time. The key is insuring that a consistent routine doesn't become a boring one.

5. Lift more weights.

Among the professional classes there's often a bias in favor of endurance sports and against weightlifting. White-collar runners and cyclists are much more common than white-collar weightlifters. But emerging research suggests that lifting weights and other forms of resistance training may yield particularly important health benefits and that excessive endurance activity can be counterproductive, both because of increased risk of injury and potential cardiac problems. The data is far from clear, but it's worth bearing in mind, particularly given the dynamics that make endurance sports more socially acceptable for professionals.

6. Intensity > Time.

On a related note, recent research also suggests that working out at a high level of intensity for short periods of time may have a much greater impact than moderately-intense activities. So a brief sprint workout may yield greater benefits than a long jog. Again, the science remains unsettled, but the idea that we have to exercise for hours for it to make a difference appears to be outdated. (Note that this dovetails nicely with points 1 and 2 above: Not only are shorter, more intense workouts easier to fit into busy schedules, but they may also be better for us.)

7. Walk more.

Despite my emphasis above on the value of weightlifting and high-intensity workouts, I'm also a huge fan of walking, which remains one of the best activities for superior health and performance. In this case the science is quite clear: extensive research associates regular walking with outcomes ranging from longer lifespans and fewer illnesses to improved mood and even better problem-solving abilities.

8. Try silence.

For many of us music is an important part of working out, particularly now that we can listen to almost anything anywhere. I vividly remember getting my first iPod shuffle in 2005, and it was amazing. (I know, I'm old.) Music can motivate us to get out there when we're feeling sluggish, and it can fire us up to tackle that steep hill or heavy bar, and these are valuable contributions. But if we always listen to music while exercising, we're missing opportunities for reflection and spontaneous thought. When we're constantly entertained, we become dependent on the distraction. I'm not suggesting that music should be avoided, but if it's part of your everyday routine, try unplugging once in a while and see where your mind goes. While I'm a big fan of meditation--which is also a workout--a reflective walk, run, swim or ride can also be a path to mindfulness.

9. Get out!

Another significant conclusion of recent research is the value of being outside. Even just one hour a week in a natural setting can improve our mood, decrease our stress level, and sharpen our ability to concentrate. This can be a challenge if our preferred activities take place indoors or if we lack ready access to the natural world. But note point 1 above--just because we can't get to Yosemite or the Mendocino coast doesn't mean should fail to take advantage of parks and green spaces in urban settings.

10. DON'T GET HURT.

I first thought about writing this post in late August 2016, in response to a tweet from Holden Hao, and at the time I was in some of the best shape of my life, working out very intensely and even achieving PRs at age 49. Then a few days later I tore up my elbow doing too many pull-ups, and that put a stop to that. (And put this post on long-term hold.) I was able to get through daily life, but I was in constant pain, and I had to stop lifting entirely. I decided to rest it before seeking treatment, and it did heal eventually, but very slowly. Over three months later it's still only about 85%, and I've just begun lifting again with very light weights. It's been a long, painful lesson in the paramount importance of avoiding injury as we grow older and slower to heal.

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This is a companion piece to Don't Just Do Something, Sit There! (Mindfulness for Busy People).

Reading List

• The First 20 Minutes, Gretchen Reynolds
• Eat Bacon, Don't Jog, Grant Petersen
• The Art and Science of Low-Carbohydrate Performance, Dr. Jeff Volek and Dr. Stephen Phinney
• Why We Get Fat, Gary Taubes
• The Big Fat Surprise, Nina Teicholz
• The Nature Principle, Richard Louv

Tools I Use

• Don't Break The Chain
• Fitbit Charge 2

Thanks to Holden Hao for the inspiration.

Photos: Runner by Arya Ziai. Weightlifter by Ben Mizen.

Stop Trying to Be "Good Enough" by "Getting Better"

Some time ago I was talking with Erik Bengtsson, a former coaching client who I first met as an MBA student at Stanford in 2008, and he said something that stopped me short: Trying to be 'good enough' by 'getting better' just doesn't work.

This strikes me as a powerful truth. When we feel that we're not "good enough"--not successful enough, not accomplished enough, not rich enough, not attractive enough, simply not enough--our efforts to break out of that state of mind by "getting better" are doomed to fail. Why? Three reasons: Hedonic Adaptation, Goal Pursuit, and Social Comparison.

Hedonic Adaptation

This is the psychological process by which we readily adapt to improved conditions--and promptly take those improvements for granted. As UC Riverside professor of psychology Sonja Lyubomirsky has written, "The more we attain, the happier we become. But, at the same time, the more we attain, the more we want, which negates the increased happiness." [1] To be sure, this process has its advantages--we also adapt surprisingly well to worsened conditions. But the challenge is that improvements in our circumstances--a better job, a promotion, a raise, a new home--shift our reference points, the standards by which we assess ourselves, our performance, and our experience of life. This isn't to say that we get no enjoyment or satisfaction from such improvements, but those feelings don't last as long as we think they will, and they're less fulfilling than we expect them to be.

Goal Pursuit

Goals can be powerful motivators, but their very power means that they can have unexpected consequences, including the ability to render an experience less fulfilling--which can ultimately serve as a powerful demotivator. [2] Building on research by Ayelet Fishbach and Jinhee Choi, Christian Jarrett warns, "Stay focused on your goals and you spoil your experience of the activities you'll need to pursue. In turn, that makes it far more likely that you'll drop out early and fail to achieve the very goals that you're so focused on." [3] And as Lyubomirsky notes, "The empirical evidence reveals that the critical factor in whether goal pursuit makes us happy lies in enjoying the journey and not in realizing the end-goal." [4] The problem in this context is that we generally view "getting better" as "not there yet"--so we fixate on the goal and our distance from it, rather than on the process and the most recent step we've taken.

Social Comparison

Human beings are deeply social creatures. As UCLA neuroscientist Matthew Lieberman has observed, we've evolved a reflexive predisposition to think about other people. [5] This impulse is so deeply rooted that neuroscientists speculate that thinking about others is our brains' default activity, the cognitive task we engage in most naturally when we're not otherwise occupied. As we habitually look around us to understand what others are doing--and how they're doing--we inevitably use this data to assess ourselves. Lyubomirsky adds that, "social comparisons arise naturally, automatically, and effortlessly [and have] a profound effect not only on our evaluations of ourselves, but [also] on our moods and our emotional well-being." [6] The issue, she continues, is that "comparisons to other people...are primarily responsible for our feelings of inadequacy and discontent." [7] So if we're comparing ourselves to a high-achieving cohort--a particular problem for my clients and my students at Stanford--focusing on "getting better" is a surefire way to never be "good enough," because there will always be someone who's accomplished more than we have.

So what can we do? Manage our aspirations. This may sound like "settle for less," but that's not what I mean. Rather, there are some specific steps we can take to actively resist the psychological dynamics above:

Cultivate Gratitude

• We can reflect on the shortness of life and how lucky we are to be alive in the first place.
• We can consider how much worse things could be and how good we have it.
• We can focus on the present moment and resist regret (which pulls us into the past) and anxiety (which pulls us into the future).

Set Goals Wisely

• We can focus on micro-goals and celebrate small victories along the way.
• We can adopt a growth mindset and learn from our inevitable failures.
• We can recognize our incompetence as a temporary condition, and prioritize learning and growth, which are often non-linear processes.

Live Our Values

• We can manage our calendars (which show what we truly value) and our attention (our most precious resource) more effectively.
• We can better understand our values, and, in turn, allow them to inform our vision for ourselves.
• And we can heed the late author David Foster Wallace, who once said:

If you worship money and things...then you will never have enough. Worship your own body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly, and when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally plant you. Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out...

Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom. This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of wanting and achieving and displaying. The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day. That is real freedom. [8]

This, I suggest, is how we ultimately come to be "good enough," even as we're continually striving to improve, and let go of the need to "get better."

 

For more on these topics, see The Art of Self-Coaching, Class 8: Success.

Thanks to Erik Bengtsson for the brilliant quote and the friendship.

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Footnotes

[1] The Myths of Happiness: What Should Make You Happy, but Doesn't, What Shouldn't Make You Happy, but Does, page 120 (Sonja Lyubomirsky, 2014)

[2] Babies, Bathwater and Goal-Setting

[3] How Goals and Good Intentions Can Hold Us Back (Christian Jarrett, 99u, 2012)

[4] The Myths of Happiness, page 136

[5] Social: Why Our Brains Are Wired to Connect (Matthew Lieberman, 2013)

[6] The Myths of Happiness, page 132

[7] The Myths of Happiness, page 132

[8] This Is Water (David Foster Wallace, 2005)

 

Updated September 2022.

Photo by Mason Masteka.

The Power of AND

We tend to underestimate the power and significance of an easily overlooked word: AND.

When we have two contrasting messages to deliver, one positive and the other negative, we often begin with the positive and conclude with the negative, linking them by saying "but":

I'd love to see you, but I'm so busy right now.

When we do this we send a subtle but distinct signal suggesting that the negative message is more important or more true than the positive, and the impact of the positive message on the recipient is diminished or cancelled out. This poses a particular dilemma for leaders, who often have a complex mix of positive and negative feedback for their employees:

I know you're trying hard, but it's not enough.

I love working with you, but we can't tolerate mistakes like that.

I care about you as a colleague, but I'm I'm really frustrated with you right now.

These messages can fail to have the desired impact because all that's heard is the second idea:

It's not enough.

We can't tolerate mistakes like that.

I'm really frustrated with you right now.

in some relationships, some organizations, and some cultures such bluntness is expected. [1] But even in those settings leaders can underestimate the impact of their language at a given moment [2] and its potential to be perceived as threatening. [3,4]

A simple remedy is to substitute "and" for "but" when we're looking to convey a complex message that includes both positive and negative elements:

I know you're trying hard, and it's not enough.

I love working with you, and we can't tolerate mistakes like that.

I care about you as a colleague, and I'm I'm really frustrated with you right now.

This suggestion isn't foolproof, of course--people may still miss the positive message and focus on the negative. [5] Nor should it be followed in a rigid or inflexible way--sometimes we do want people to focus exclusively on our negative feedback, and any attempt to soften its impact would be unhelpful.

And yet In my work with leaders and in my own experience, I've seen how this formulation can allow us to deliver a very tough message with empathy and compassion. I was recently reminded of this by Douglas Merrill, CEO of ZestFinance, who told me that earlier in his career a CEO he reported to called him into a board meeting after a high-stakes failure, and said, "I love you, and that can't ever happen again." The impact on Douglas? He felt an even stronger sense of loyalty and commitment.

 

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Footnotes

[1] Erin Meyer on Culture and Communication

[2] The Blue Problem (Communication and Power)

[3] Neuroscience, Leadership and David Rock's SCARF Model

[4] Intent vs. Impact (When Communication Goes Awry)

[5] How to Deliver Critical Feedback

Thanks to Douglas Merrill for permission to share his story.

Updated April 2021.

Photo by Matthew McPherrin.