Strategy. Innovation. Brand.
All Alone By Yourself
Play is my work.
Based on a tip from the incomparable Maria Popova, I bought a book published in 1958 called How To Do Nothing With Nobody All Alone By Yourself. (It’s readily available from AbeBooks).
Written by Robert Paul Smith and illustrated by his wife, Eleanor Goulding Smith, the book is a delightful compendium of things kids can do for and by themselves. Kids can learn how to build a boomerang out of Popsicle sticks, carve monkeys out of peach pits, play mumbly-peg, build bolas (like the gauchos throw) out of chestnuts, or do owl eyes with a buddy (or a mirror).
Smith tells his readers that “If things were as they should be, another kid would be telling you how to do these things, or you’d be telling another kid.” But, alas, Smith thought he was the only “kid” around who still knew how to do these things. He was 42 at the time.
After a hundred some odd pages of projects, Smith writes a conclusion that is both moving and very relevant to our world today:
“ I understand some people get worried about kids who spend a lot of time all alone, by themselves. I do a little worrying about that , but I worry about something else even more; about kids who don’t know how to spend any time all alone, by themselves. It’s something you’re going to be doing a whole lot of, no matter what, for the rest of your lives. And I think it’s a good thing to do; you get to know yourself, and I think that’s the most important thing in the whole world.”
Kids don’t have to be alone to do the projects in the book but they do have to pay attention. That raised a question in my mind: How (and when) do we teach kids how to pay attention? Paying attention seems like a useful life skill but I’ve never seen it as a learning objective in a curriculum guide. We teach kids how to ride a bike or tie a knot, but when do we teach them how to pay attention?
It’s analogous to thinking – another fairly important life skill. We teach kids math or biology or grammar, but when do we teach them how to think for themselves? Mastering received wisdom is a different skill than thinking. Mastering a video game is a different skill than paying attention and learning how to thrive in solitude.
There are probably other skills that are equally valuable and equally untaught. In fact, I just spotted an article in the Washington Post suggesting that learning how to share in kindergarten is a key ingredient of success in later life. The study suggests that we need to spend more time teaching kids “social competence”, a key component of which is the ability to share.
This also led me to the concept of slow parenting. (See also here). The basic concept is to stop rushing around from one activity to another and focus on quality rather than quantity. According to one writer, slow parenting can reduce stress and anxiety, boost IQ, and generally produce happier, healthier kids. We should stop “treating parenting as product development”, slow down, and enjoy each other’s company. The trendy term of the moment is “mindful relationships” which, to me, simply means that we should pay attention to each other. So we’re back where we started: it’s all about paying attention.
My father once told me, “Son, sometimes the best thing I can do for you is just to leave you alone.” It was good advice then and it’s good advice now. And Robert Paul Smith’s book gives you a great place to start.
Egotism and Awe
I’m in awe of my ego.
Are egotism and awe inversely related? As one goes up, does the other go down? Could egotism and awe be two ends of the same spectrum?
Let’s start with egotism. Is it going up or down? Are our kids more egotistic than we were at the same age? Are we more self-centered than our parents were?
There’s growing evidence that egotism is on the rise. William Chopik and his colleagues, for instance, researched long-term trends in egotism by analyzing every State of the Union address from 1790 to 2012. They counted the words and analyzed the number that showed self-interest (“me’, “mine” “I”, “our”) compared to the number that showed interest in others (“you”, “your”, “his”, “theirs”). The ratio between the two became the “egocentricity index”.
Up until 1900, other-focused words dominated, outnumbering self-focused words every year. In 1920, however, the trend reversed and self-focused words have outnumbered other-focused words ever since. Though the trend is inexorably upward, there are peaks and valleys. For instance, the index spikes after economic booms and slides during recessions. (The research article is here. A less academic summary is here.)
Why would we grow more egocentric over time? Perhaps the economy accentuates the trend. From 1960 to the present, American GNP per capita has roughly tripled. The egocentricity index hasn’t grown quite so quickly but it has accelerated compared to pre-1960 levels – just as the economy has.
Emily Bianchi’s research lends credence to this thought. Bianchi measured the narcissism of over 32,000 people aged 18 to 83. She found that those who had come of age (aged 18 to 25) during recessions were less likely to be narcissistic later in life compared to those who came of age in boom times. (The research article is here. A less academic summary is here).
A number of other articles (for instance here, here, and here) suggest that egocentrism has increased significantly over the past 40 years or so.
And while egotism has been on the rise, what’s been happening to awe? According to Paul Piff and Dacher Keltner, it’s on the decline. And we should be worried about it.
Piff and Keltner argue that awe is a collective emotion “that motivates people to do things that enhance the greater good.” The authors have done a number of studies (here and here, for instance) that induce awe in research subjects and measure the effects. Those who experienced more awe were also more likely to help strangers, lend a hand after an accident, and share more resources.
Writing in the New York Times, Piff and Keltner suggest that our culture is “awe-deprived”. People spend less time staring at the stars, watching the Northern lights, camping out, or even just visiting art museums. Indeed, when was the last time you got awe-induced goose bumps?
The authors suggest that the overall reduction in awe is linked to a “broad societal shift” over the last 50 years. “People have become more individualistic, more self-focused, more materialistic and less connected to others.”
Did the rise in egocentrism cause the decline in awe? If so, could we reduce egocentrism by increasing awe in our culture? It’s hard to say but it’s certainly worth a try. Let’s head for the hills.
How Long Does It Take (To Have A Good Idea)?
Developing a slow hunch.
Friends often ask me how long it takes to write one of my web articles. I can frame the question narrowly or broadly. In the narrow frame, the answer might be 90 minutes or so. In the broad frame, it might be 30 years or so. Talk about a slow hunch.
I’ll illustrate with my most recent article: Hate, Happiness, Imagination. As with many things – especially innovations – the article is a mashup of several different sources and concepts. Let’s track them in chronological order.
The first idea came to me through Graham Greene’s brilliant novel, The Power and the Glory. The novel includes a lovely quote: “Hate is the failure of imagination”. Greene wrote the novel in 1940, so the idea is now at least 75 years old (or perhaps older since Greene seems to echo previous authors).
I read the novel when Suellen and I lived in Guanajuato, Mexico in 1980. The quote about hate and imagination struck me and has stuck with me ever since. So, I’ve been gestating the idea for 35 years. I would occasionally mention it to friends but, otherwise, I didn’t do much with it.
In 2005, David Foster Wallace gave his famous commencement speech at Kenyon College. He stressed that, all too often, we fail to imagine what life is like for other people. If we did use our imagination more fully, we would empathize more, and our lives would be richer and fuller. First, we have to recognize that we can make a choice — that we don’t have to operate on our egocentric default setting. Second, we actually have to make the choice.
I didn’t know about Wallace’s speech until I started teaching critical thinking. As I looked for sources, I came across a video of the (abridged) speech and used it several times in my class. I first stumbled across it in 2012.
I didn’t do much with the Kenyon College speech until a few weeks ago. Frankly, I had forgotten about it. Then one of my students discovered it and asked me to show it to the class. That led to a very healthy discussion during which I connected what Wallace said to what Greene wrote.
Bingo! I made the connection between the two ideas. Why did it take me so long? Probably because I was just thinking about it. Thinking is fine but I don’t think that merely thinking creates many new ideas. The give-and-take of the class discussion stimulated me to make new connections. The diversity of opinions helped me open up new connections rather than merely deepening old connections.
Still, I didn’t have a complete thought. Then Suellen read me a paragraph from a review of the new biography of Saul Bellow. The review mentioned Bellow’s belief that imagination is “eternal naïveté”. When I realized what he meant by that, it dawned on me that it completed the thought. Greene connected to Wallace connected to Bellow.
What can we learn from this? First, this little story illustrates Steven Johnson’s idea of the “slow hunch”. Many good ideas – and most innovations – result from mashing up existing ideas. Unfortunately, we don’t get those ideas simultaneously. We may get one in 1980, another in 2012, and another last month. The trick is to remember the first one long enough to couple it with the second one. (Writing a blog helps).
The other point is that the pure act of thinking is (often) not enough. We need to kick ideas around with other people. Diversity counts. I’m lucky that I can kick ideas around with my students. And with Suellen. If not for them, I wouldn’t be nearly as interesting as I am.
So, how long does it take me to have a good idea? About 35 years.
Habit Forming, Compulsive Products
Modern slot machines.
Here’s a good business model: create a habit-forming product or service that entices you to behave compulsively. Sex is probably the mother of all such operating models (both literally and figuratively). Other products that use the habituation model include tobacco, illicit drugs, gambling, alcohol, ERP software, and lately … mobile phones.
Here’s the good news: the list of products that are truly habit forming is fairly short. Here’s the bad news: it’s about to get much longer.
Product managers are now studying exactly what it is that makes products compulsive. They’re literally designing compulsion into their products.
We’re familiar with the habituation concept as it’s applied to gambling. Slot machines are no longer just clunky combinations of dials and gears. They’re now highly programmed devices that manage your behavior and entice you to linger longer. They sound like the same old clunky devices to lull you into forgetting who is managing whom.
We understand slot machines and, being the smart people that we are, we’re unlikely to be fooled by them. But what if wily product managers take the same concepts and apply them to, say, the websites you use regularly? Could they manage your behavior in the same way a slot machine does? You bet.
As Technology Review pointed out in a recent article:
Forging new habits has become an obsession among technology companies. In an age when commercial competition is only a clcik away, the new mandate is to make products and services that generate compulsive behvior. … The rise of mobile computing has intensifed that imperative. The small screen crowds out alternatives, focusing a person’s attention on a limited number of go-to apps.
So we can expect more “compulsive products” especially on our hand-held devices. How does compulsion work? According to Nir Eyal, a behavior engineer, it’s a four-step process. Think about your mobile phone.
- Trigger – a trigger prompts you and starts a process. Your phone buzzes in your pocket …
- Action – the buzzing phone causes you to interrupt whatever else you’re doing, take the phone out of your pocket, and look at it.
- Reward – the phone provides rewarding information. You find out that you favorite team won its game or that your boyfriend wants to take you to dinner.
- Investment – you invest yourself in the process by taking a further action, like responding to a message or adding a comment on a social media page. Your investment becomes a trigger from someone else.
All this may sound new and scary but, really, we’ve been preparing ourselves for this brave new world for a long time. When we had but one telephone in our house, my entire family jumped whenever it rang. It was the beginning of a long habituation process.
What to do? First, be aware that behavior engineers are designing experiences that promote compulsive behavior. I now think of my mobile phone as a slot machine in my pocket. Second, set limits on your behavior. When I go to a casino, I set a strict limit on how much I’ll lose. Then I stop. We can do the same with our devices. We can turn them off or set a timer that tells us when to stop.
Finally, we can also create our own, alternative rewards. I know my mobile phone creates compulsive behavior on my part. I check it often. But I’ve also created an alternate reward. When I check my phone, I remind myself to smile for at least ten seconds. Sure, it’s compulsive. But it brightens my day considerably.
Chief Stereotyping Officer
A manufactured stereotype.
Though I didn’t hold this title at my last job, I was effectively the Chief Stereotyping Officer. My job was to create stereotypes about our company and about our competitors. Like all stereotypes, the ones I created served mainly to simplify reality. Reality is complex. I wanted to simplify beliefs, values, and choices. And I wanted to tilt the scales in our favor.
My real title, of course, was Chief Marketing Officer. I created brands. And brands are nothing more than manufactured stereotypes.
The word “stereotype” has acquired negative connotations over the years. We admonish people not to stereotype. But the propensity to stereotype is innate. I call it a factory-installed bias.
In truth, we all stereotype. And we do it for very good reasons. Primarily, we stereotype to simplify the world around us. If one Volvo is safe, we may be justified in assuming that all Volvos are safe. If we had to test every Volvo to determine if it were safe or not, we might never reach a decision.
To stereotype simply means that we examine one item in a category – or one individual in a group – and reach conclusions about it. We then project those conclusions on to all members of the group.
We do this instinctively. It’s merely a simplifying assumption. And in many cases, we’re right. Most Volvos probably are safe. And that’s the purpose of branding – to convince you that all products from a particular company have common characteristics.
While the propensity to stereotype is innate, what we stereotype is based on culture and experience. Stereotypes become pernicious when they’re about people. When we stereotype gender, it becomes sexism. When we stereotype race or ethnicity, it becomes racism or ethnic prejudice. When we stereotype religions, it can lead to apocalyptic religious wars.
Stereotypes can also change over time. When I was a kid, products that were labeled “Made In Japan” were assumed to be poor quality. Now the opposite is true. Similarly, when I was young, people talked about “women drivers” as if they all behaved the same way. I don’t hear that kind of talk today so perhaps this is a stereotype that has disappeared.
Of course, most branding campaigns are not about people but about products or services. We marketers are simply taking advantage of an innate human behavior. People want to generalize about their experiences. We’d like to help you do that. We simply want to steer those generalizations in a particular direction.
People sometimes suggest that stereotyping is the sign of a lazy mind. Actually, it’s the sign a human mind. We should recognize that it’s part of who we are. At the same time, we should recognize that stereotyping people is degrading, erroneous, and just plain wrong.
Branding works because it aims directly at human nature. It’s a form of stereotyping that benefits both consumers and vendors. For consumers, it simplifies choices. For vendors, it creates strong reputations. So, let’s use stereotyping for what it’s good for and not for what it’s bad for. And, if you need a Chief Stereotyping Officer, I’m your man.
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