Engineers, scientists, and most of all, businesses are looking for the right answer.
It’s such a common quest that we take it for granted, but it’s new, and it continues to cause stress.
The right answer is productive. It’s resilient. And it’s a powerful ranking tool. The right play wins the game, the right production method cuts costs, and the right theory explains what’s going to happen next.
The right answer doesn’t care about how you feel. It’s still the right answer.
One reason we resist engagements where there might be a right answer is that right answers also determine who is wrong. And we’ve been trained not to be wrong.
Another is that a right answer puts us on the hook. It requires responsibility. It’s easier to simply let someone else announce that they’re right, and do what they say. No assertions, no responsibility.
For ten thousand years, though, the dominant way of thought was the vibe. How does this make you feel? That’s subjective, transient, and up to us. Many ways to spell a word, many explanations for illness, many points of view, each as worthy as the next.
[Status plays many roles when it comes to belief. Those seeking (or possessing) status might celebrate the right answer, because it’s a path toward better. Others might reject the idea of proof, realizing that when subjective ideas collide, those in power can usually dictate what happens next. And for those who struggle in a role of less status, a reliance on belief can offer solace when the right answer lets them down.]
When fear arises, some people grasp for the right answer. The double-blind study, the proven medical intervention, the explained path forward. Others, though, run away from the stark possibilities provided by the right answer and take shelter in “it depends.”
Feelings have a huge evolutionary head start on facts.
Every writer has all of them. 26 in most Western languages.
But no writer knows all the words.
That’s the gap where creativity, effort and possibility lie–between the universal letters and the unlimited words. This is an analogy for arenas as diverse as sports and commerce.
Sometimes, we work on a project where our competitors have access to more letters than we do. It’s unlikely you’ll win that competition.
But if you start out with the same letters as everyone else, don’t spend a lot of time admiring your letters. It’s the words that matter.
If it’s just the right amount of necessary kindness, it’s not really kindness. It’s pleasantness.
If the people in our circle begin to experience behavior that’s kinder than necessary, the expectations for what’s necessary will ratchet forward, making everything more pleasant.
And… being kind is a lovely way to spend your day.
[Compare this to an alternative: “be as selfish as you can get away with.” Hardly worth going down that path.]
If you want to drink more herbal tea, get a hot water dispenser that keeps it handy and on tap.
On the other hand, if you want to watch less television, disconnect the TV after every viewing session.
Convenience leads to consumption.
We all make them from time to time.
You might not know what you need to know. This is where experience is created.
You might have an identity that pushes you to make those choices. If you’re determined to act like the person you have assumed you are, the choices come with the role.
Or, you might prioritize short-term benefits over the long-term costs of a bad choice. In this sense, the difference between a good choice and a bad one is simply which timeframe we’re considering.
Built into the idea of ‘choice’ is the agency and freedom to choose. But we waste that power every time we fail to realize we’re making a choice.
And there are two common reasons for this: we don’t believe we have the freedom to choose, or we’re not clear about what we’re trying to accomplish in the first place.
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