Organizations and cultures are build on affiliation and organized by status. And that status never stays stable.
There’s a status loop in some suburbs in how the front lawn looks. A nicely kept yard gets a nod of approval from a neighbor and might be rewarded with a higher resale price. And so one nice lawn might become three or four, and then rakes come out and the cycle continues. The same could happen with Christmas lights.
But it also happens in some law firms, where working late or weekends gets you a promotion to partner, and then the race is on, with people sacrificing years of their personal lives to earn more status.
A toxic status loop goes further. Not only might it harm some participants, it also ends up belying the larger goals of the culture. Body shaming can lead to toxic eating disorders, or a focus on sales commissions can lead to eroding standards of ethics–all of which undermine the very point of the culture in the first place.
In certain political circles, status is gained by outdoing competitors in apparently being even more true to some of the party’s stated principles–focusing on performative or fringe elements of the platform at the expense of serving the public.
The first step is noticing the loop. The second is being clear about whether the steps taken to gain more status in this area are actually aligned with why you’re awarding status in the first place (is it helping you get the job done?). And finally, either changing the systems that award status or providing support and encouragement to people who refuse to create harm by single-mindedly pursuing metrics at the expense of the work to be done.
It’s tempting to believe that our actions follow our beliefs. That’s what we do, it seems, and so others must as well.
In fact, just about always, our beliefs arise as a result of our actions.
If you want to change what people believe, change how they act.
The only theories worth testing are those that are falsifiable–that it’s possible for the test to indicate that in fact, the theory is wrong.
And the difference between art and illustration is the same. Illustration can’t fail. It can be improved, surely, but it’s not wrong.
Art, on the other hand, is a bold assertion, something that might not work.
Some choices seem obvious, while others demand care and insight.
And some offerings are simple, while others have depth and multiple variables.
As you’ve probably guessed, the choices that are simple and obvious tend to do best in the mass market.
Where did you get your cup of coffee this morning? Did you visit a drive through Dutch Bros. or did you use a lever pull at home to pull a shot with beans you roasted and brewed yourself?
Most successful politicians and movements start in the bottom left and move their way toward simple and obvious.
Successful social media platforms race to the top right hand corner, but the most interesting and generative content online is probably not there…
Choose your quadrants carefully.
Sports cars have a tachometer, a gauge showing how close the motor is to melting down.
When the revs enter the red zone, performance is enhanced–for a while. Do it too much or for too long, and you’ll burn out.
In our work, there are two sorts of red zones.
Athletes know that the last 5% of their effort accounts for 100% of their success. The same is true for pianists and any endeavor where we are sorted by elite performance.
But many people work in industries where the last 5% of their effort might account for just 5% of their success. A stockbroker who stays busy cold calling clients late into the night doesn’t receive increasing rewards–they just get a little busier.
The problem with the linear reward curve is obvious–people who are driven to get just a little more repeatedly do just a little more, until they’ve broken everything they said they wanted.
If you’re going into the red zone, be clear about what the outcome is supposed to be.
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