“Will my career end in failure?” Sounds like it

The Financial Times agony aunt (yes it does have one) Lucy Kellaway recently tackled an issue that tweaked my interest, regarding feelings of failure at the end of a career. This is an extraordinarily neglected subject. What do we say to someone who, near retirement, becomes convinced they have failed: finally, fatally, forever.

Posted first on FT.com to elicit public responses prior to Lucy’s, this was the problem (nutshelled): “I’m a successful businessman approaching career’s end but haunted by a sense of failure. I missed out on the CEO post but stayed on. Now I feel sidelined. Nobody pays much attention and nobody will remember me. They say ‘all political careers end in failure’. Is this also true of business careers?” – Director, male, 57.

Lucy’s replies are usually spot-on but I felt this one lacked some empathy. Yes, she said, nearly all business careers end in failure. They can end in big, spectacular failure – like, say, the career of Tony Hayward – or they can end in little anonymous failure – like our 57-year old director.

She suggested that things may have ended no better had he won the CEO post and that, he should realize, the feelings of failure are “all inside your own head – no one else will care one way or another”. She offered “various mental tricks” to help him feel better, such as “comparing himself to unsuccessful people”. “I suggest you force yourself to stop thinking about success altogether,” she concluded, as “such thinking always ends in tears. The only way to deal with these horrid truths is denial – to distract yourself with other thoughts”.

I doubt this made our man feel any better about his predicament. Lucy is a highly-successful writer (the inventor of the hilarious Martin Lukes), so she may have had difficulty empathizing with the energy-sapping dull pain of realization and disappointment that had depleted this man’s self-esteem so late in his career. Unlike Lucy, he hadn’t achieved his goals, and now felt he wouldn’t. There are few mental tricks – and especially not denial – that can suppress such a thought.

So what could I say to make this man’s outlook more positive? Looking for ideas, I read the reader’s responses, which were predictably less measured.

• FT reader: "Wow – you maintained a decent position into your late 50s. That’s success. I hope I’m as lucky as you."

This chimes with Lucy’s mental tricks in my opinion. Reframing your thoughts to focus on the positive will offer only the briefest of respites. By his own standards this man has failed. And it’s his perceptions that matter: no one else’s.

• FT reader: "You seem to be suffering from the kind of existentialist angst that most folk address in their teens."

I absolutely agree with this, although I’d replace “most” with “many” as “most” people never face existentialist angst at all. Facing it at 57 is no crime, and will have its advantages: he should be mature enough to cope with the realization that “yes” he will die and “no” he will not achieve everything he wants to achieve. Writing to Lucy is just the start of his coming to terms with this “awful truth”.

• FT reader: "Incredibly narcissistic. Why should anyone remember you? What have you done to make the world a better place? Have you eradicated world famine?"

He knows this – hence the crisis. Yet there are many ways to change the world, not just through charity. Our 57-year old worked for a mid-sized multinational – probably the strongest sector historically for producing life-saving drugs or equipment or even ideas. Also, charity workers have their own benchmarks of achievement, not all of the “save the planet” variety.

• FT reader: "You may wish to consider not defining success by what others may or may not think of you."

He hasn’t. He’s measured himself against his own standards – the billions that failed to achieve his status are, quite rightly, irrelevant.

But among the trite replies were two I thought worthy of further thought. “If you really want to be a CEO,” said the first, “then you are still close to the average age and over 20% of CEOs are in their 60s.”

Certainly, the other guy may falter or become disliked by the board, or there may be a crisis that requires a different sort of head (bringing Mr. Haywood to mind again). Yet why wait? They’ve made their choice and, to be frank, they probably expected (wanted even) you to take the hint and go. One assumes some form of early retirement is possible (making a nuisance of yourself may be a good way of getting this on the table) perhaps with some lucrative consultancy projects as a further sweetener. Meanwhile, sourcing non-exec positions with smaller companies looking for your kind of experience can help rebuild your self-esteem. There are even agencies that can help in this quest.

This brings in the second interesting comment, which declared: “at the end of the game nobody will spend time wondering how the knight on the side of the board got there. They are all pondering THEIR next move, and so should you”.

Certainly, it’s the next move that counts, not the last one (which was a setback you seem to relive daily). The key is to get a plan, develop a strategy and become an effective executioner. With this in mind, I think Stephen Covey’s the man for you. His Seven Habits of Highly Effective People will shake you from your self-fulfilling stupor of negativity, even at your age.

With breath-taking abridgement, here they are:
1) “Be proactive” (don’t mope around the office writing to Lucy – take action),
2) “Begin with the end in mind” (work out what you really want in the long term and move towards that goal with every step you take),
3) “Put first things first” (plan your route),
4) “Think win/win” (this is a must in terms of changing your current win/lose thinking, which is probably making you a bit of a pain in the office),
5) “Seek first to understand, then to be understood” (with every conversation, listen to others rather than inwardly shouting “listen to me”),
6) “Synergize” (develop your network, and use it).
7) “Sharpen the saw” (develop the skills you need to succeed – don’t struggle on with rusty instruments).

At your age it’s also worth considering Covey’s 8th Habit, written as a follow-up to the multi-million selling Seven Habits… . This habit requires you to “find your voice and help others find theirs’,” he states – making the point that self-obsession is desperately unhealthy (as you now realize), while “choosing to serve is the most effective habit of all”. He implores us to find our “unique personal significance”: the key element of ourselves that we can offer to others, perhaps via teaching, mentoring (maybe through non-exec roles) or even consultancy – anything that can pass on that hard-acquired wisdom. Certainly, such a quest would make the perfect final innings for a man of your calibre.

And if you think 57 too old to start, then you are probably right. On the other hand, if you think – with your age and experience – you are now in the perfect place to get going on forging your own path (rather than one dictated by a soulless and myopic board), then – again – you are probably right. So what if you drop dead en route? What a great way to go – far better than staring at the rain everyday and wondering what might have been.

Job interviews from hell. An idiot’s guide

As an employer I’m regularly processing job applicants. And one thing is undeniable from my experience: the privately educated are better at interviews. In fact, this is so obvious I can now divide interviewees by their education without even looking at their CVs. The way the privately-educated walk in the room and greet me, their poise and eye-contact during the interview and their assertions regarding their suitability all exude self-assurance.

This comparative deficit in confidence is an appalling outcome for the state educated majority in the UK. Sure, my evidence is no more than the anecdotes of a small public relations agency. But it also rams home my own ineptitude as a young man “educated” at a failing Essex comprehensive and looking for work both before and after university (which I attended after night-school studies, lest you think I exaggerate the poverty of my secondary education).

To the failings I witness so painfully as an employer, therefore, I can add plenty of my own job-interview disasters. Here are some of my howlers. Thankfully, now, with lessons included.

1) The bullsh***er: Asked to introduce myself at a mass interview for a brewer-turned-leisure company I decided to play on the fact I knew the brewing side had been sold by stating I could tell the difference in the taste of the beer. What utter rubbish! The way the beer was brewed hadn’t changed one jot from the way it had always been brewed – as all the wizened company executives in the room well knew. My clever comment meant I got no further in the process.

Lesson: A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Do your research about the company, and never offer BS thinking it’s insightful, when it’s almost certainly the opposite.

2) The crafty smoker. Early for one interview, I decided I had time for a cigarette in the street outside, although with no lighter I asked the professional-looking man in the street for a light. Of course, as a professional man (even in the early 1980s) he didn’t smoke. He did work in the next building, however, and – as luck would have it – was the very man interviewing me for the post. He was distinctly unimpressed.

Lesson: Reign in the oikish behaviour. To win any job you have to behave in ways that are attractive to the employer. And such behaviour starts well before that company’s front door.

3) The chippy state school boy: Left in a meeting room for an interviewer to arrive, I waited with increasing frustration until he tripped in late apologising for the fact he was “the wrong side of a bottle of claret”. In fact his jollity continued as he disregarded my CV and said “forget all that, tell me: what school did you go to?” I resented the question and let it show. He ended the interview soon after.

Lesson: Why assume the prejudice? If there’s genuine prejudice you’re doomed anyway. But the chances are you’re being overly-sensitive and your reaction is a self-fulfilling own-goal. Looking back, my interpretation now is that he was a little drunk and keen for a matey chat rather than a dull Q&A about experience and qualifications. If I’d found another connection I’d have been away. Sport, wine, long lunches, relationships, uni, boring interviews – there’s always something. Rapport is important in an interview: don’t reject it when it’s offered on a plate.

4) The political animal: Up for a summer job with a travel company my interviewer noticed I’d written “politics” as one of my interests. He frowned at this, stating “as long as you don’t bring it to work”. It was a great summer job travelling the UK as the driver’s mate. Yet he didn’t call back.

Lesson: Why volunteer something potentially off-putting? He suspected I’d bore him senseless on the long journeys. And he was probably right, but what a shame he couldn’t have found out on the overnight trip to Aberdeen. When interviewing, I’m suspicious of any “interest” that may deflect from the job. “DJing” is a common one these days – suggesting (at least to this employer) late nights and illegal substances. So why’s it on the CV (politics was my degree, so why I had to add it as an interest, lord only knows)?

5) The “I can do that” exaggeration. Another summer job – this one as a driver, via an agency. In fact the interview went something like this: drive that to Edmonton, now. There’s a map in the cab. Yet the truck was so terrifyingly large I couldn’t believe I could legally drive it. I got as far as the first roundabout – panicked – parked up (illegally) and fled home. The agency never rang me again.

Lesson: Don’t lie about your skills and experiences. You’ll get caught out. Mild exaggerations are fine, but saying you can do something you patently can’t (such as driving sizable commercial vehicles) is setting you up for a nasty reckoning.

6) The criticiser: An important post-uni interview with a national newspaper editor. Left alone with his deputy for a period I decided to fill the silence with my criticism that the paper had not covered some ridiculous and pointless protest march in Manchester, that I’d not even been on. In fact I was trying to engender a conversation about provincial events and their importance, but my approach was so inept he ended up on the defensive.

Lesson: Never ever put your potential employer on the defensive. You are giving the clearest signal possible that you’ll be a problematic employee. All companies have a purpose and an ethos set by the senior management. Your role in an interview is to demonstrate your knowledge of this and your ability to aid the cause. Not your ability to be an opinionated fool, even on a national newspaper.

Through bitter experience and 10 minutes of interview-skills training at one enlightened job agency I became much better at interviews, although I still regret the fact my school failed to teach the basics. Sadly, I’m left with the impression this has not changed – with state schools still offering insufficient guidance on how to navigate these critical moments for goal achievement.

Martin John Yate tackles this very area in his excellent book Great Answers to Tough Interview Questions (2001). He states that your aim in interviews is to offer concrete proof of your suitability for the role, with the interviewer assessing your poise, confidence and personality as much as your job skills and analytical abilities. His tips include (with my own thoughts added):

• Dress conservatively. Wear a suit (buy one if necessary) and make it one for work, not for impressing potential conquests in a nightclub. And play it safe. I had a recent candidate turn up wearing an Obama 2008 badge. I told him off for making aggressive assumptions regarding my opinions, even of US elections (in fact, he was innocently trying to emphasis his relevant experience on the Obama campaign, but there was no need: it was on his CV). Women should avoid short skirts or low-cut tops, unless they want to be judged solely on things other than their suitability for the role.

• Get the body language right. This is an intense assessment based on your every facet. So facial expressions, posture and gestures all matter enormously. Be attentive (but not intense), alert and engaged. Constant head bobbing, grinning or exaggerated hand usage should all be contained. Eye contact is good but don’t stare. Mirroring is good but don’t freak them out. Taking notes is good (and helps prevent overdoing both the eye contact and mirroring) but don’t write verbatim.

• Know about the company. Research the company and your interviewer. It will impress them. Never “wing it”. The previous guy didn’t.

• Flattery goes a long way. Use any silences to admire the company and suggest your alignment with its values. Criticising the company – about anything – is suicide.

• Experiences count. If need be, offer college volunteering or internships to support the requirements of the post – any actual experience can be used in support while offering “enthusiasm” or the fact you’re a “quick learner” is meaningless.

• Be aware that “an untruth could cost you a job”. Most interviewers can spot BS a mile off. Having said this, its fine to exaggerate a minor aspect of a previous role to suggest alignment with the employer’s need. Though caution is required even here: remember I’m in PR, so I’m looking for someone who can spin a yarn. Other sectors may take a dimmer view.

Does choice mean happiness? You choose

Books on choice and choosing have been hitting the bookstores and Amazon rankings lately – mostly dealing with the potential consequences of choice. Speak to the rich and they’ll immediately tell you that the key advantage of wealth is choice, making the lack of choice – consequently – one of the worst downsides of poverty.

Yet choice also has its downsides. Untutored, we can become stymied by choice. Scared of making the wrong choice, we wring our hands and hesitate. And while this may seem like a harmonious dilemma – compared to those forced to live their life without choice – their restrictions are little comfort as we become potentially terrorised by our own autonomy. If we can choose anything: our career, class, gender, sexuality, identity – then who do we blame when that future turns out not as we had hoped?

Fear of failure is, of course, the psychological consequence of this. Having total freedom to choose our future – with only ourselves to blame for our failures – is enough to make even the confident hesitate at the threshold of a major decision. This, as Renata Salecl argues in her new book Choice, is the “tyranny of choice”, which – she claims – is founded on a series of lies.

The first lie is the notion (often put about by economists) that our individual choices are rational, when they are mostly irrational – based on our unconscious desires. These are likely to be insatiable, meaning that we will always be dissatisfied – hardly a recipe for greater happiness. Indeed, her second lie is the notion choice creates happiness, when in fact choice-overload causes anxiety. We become concerned that our poor choices will lead to public humiliation (a classic concern of the High-FF as I call those with fear of failure).

Salecl states that society’s response to this “tyranny” is a growth in the self-help industry – aimed at aiding choice for the masses. She cites the popularity of books on Feng Shui, for example – helping us even choose where to place the furniture! Certainly this is a major theme of What’s Stopping You? my book on fear of failure (TBP March 2011 by John Wiley & Sons). Seeking a cure for the incurable (our insecurities) we elect temporary authorities that tell us how to behave and how to decide. In the secular modern world these authorities are the self-help gurus or life coaches, and the cure can be NLP or CBT, perhaps delivered by hypnotism or acupuncture or even, what the heck, Feng Shui – anything that is instant and life-changing.

Ultimately, Salecl argues, self-help books perpetuate these anxieties, rather than alleviate them. Offered the chance to become a better person making better choices, we grab it. Yet our insecurities remain unworked and ultimately return – although now we are more jaded than ever because they are laced with disappointment.

Even at street level we outsource our choices to “gurus”, whether these are for fashion or “style”, or – more fundamentally – role models that sway our career preferences (deciding between a career as a popstar or celebrity chef, perhaps). After all, “queen of shops” Mary Portas defined the mid-noughties UK “followers of fashion” as the “disciples of Beckham” – meaning that they had entirely outsourced their reasoning regarding what was and wasn’t fashionable to a celebrity couple from Essex.

More damaging (at least in my view) is Salecl’s noting that the consumer-choice model has ingrained itself into our view of relationships – our search for love following the same pattern of constant comparison and, therefore, near constant switching as we convince ourselves we are missing “a better deal” elsewhere. We are condemned to imagining parallel lives based on perceived wrong turns – especially with our choice of partner.

This brought in the other recently-published book on choice I’d been studying: The Art of Choosing, by Sheena Iyengar. In one passage she discusses arranged marriages, which for 5,000 years was the compact by which women met their husbands in many societies (including in Europe), without any noticeable detriment to that society’s happiness despite contemporary incomprehension that anyone could allow others to handle such an important decision. Some religions still prescribe many aspects of life for their believers, again without any noticeable heightening of hopelessness or depression: in fact quite the opposite.

“Perhaps the main issue with increasing choice is that it betrays our expectations,” says Iyengar – meaning that upping the choice also raises anticipation of a beneficial outcome, which increases disappointment, leading to heightened levels of dissatisfaction: even in marriage.

Yet something bothered me about both Iyengar’s and Salecl’s thesis. Was there not something a bit, well, patronising about them both? I hasten to add that Iyengar was not endorsing arranged marriage, but nonetheless both writers’ attack on choice reminded me of the witty Stuff White People Like by Christian Lander. “Knowing What’s Best for Poor People” was number 62 in his ironic list, in which he discusses the fact white people (by which he means the educated and liberal middle classes of America) get very excited by the idea of “poor people” (by which he means the less-educated, often over-weight Republican voters of the “flyover” states) being offered better (not more, note) choices: for instance being encouraged to abandon Wal-mart for a new trendy whole food market. Yet he ends with a sardonic warning: “It is essential that you make it clear that poor people do not make decisions based on free will. To suggest anything to the contrary could crush white people and their hope for the future”.

Care is therefore needed when describing the confusion created by choice. Sure, choice creates confusion, but our displeasure at the freedom others have to make what we may perceive as the wrong choice is, in fact, our confusion, not there’s. And choice is only confusing for the uninitiated. Study something – anything – and, soon enough, the choices (even bad ones) start to make sense. This is as true for the shopping preferences of the “lumpenproletariat” as it is with respect to “bourgeois” pursuits such as modern art or French cheese.

And what’s the alternative to choice? Presumably, it’s no choice, which is dangerous territory in my opinion. Don’t we end up in some form of paternalistic utopia of Maoist uniformity? At best this will look like an unreformed NHS. At worst like the Year Zero fanaticism of Pol Pot. And as for those stricter societies with restricted choice: well, ignorance is bliss – as they say – but that doesn’t make ignorance preferable. I’ll take choice over clarity anytime because clarity is usually someone else’s imposition.

Perhaps a society of choice is, therefore, the worst, err, choice, except for all the others (to paraphrase Churchill’s line on democracy). But even that seems trite to me: an intellectual victory for the totalitarians even if they know their dream of benevolent uniformity (chosen by them) is impossible to implement, at least without millions dead. For me choice is an absolute if imperfect good. We just need to learn how to exercise it.

Although a bit New Age for my tastes, The Mind of the Soul by Gary Zukav and Linda Francis tackles what they call “responsible choice”. They accept that choice can create fear, and that fear can destroy – rather than create – opportunities. But by taking responsibility for our choices, their view is that we can dispel the fear of choice.

“Each choice you make creates experiences for you and others…In fact, the way you perceive yourself is a choice,” they state, so we must choose, but wisely. This means that the stakes are high – hence employing gurus to help us. Zukav and Francis, however, think wise choices possible once we begin out career as a “scientist of consciousness” (I did say it was a bit New Age). Here’s their dynamic for achieving this:

• Reflect on your intentions before acting or speaking,
• Reflect on the consequences of each intention,
• Choose the consequences you want,
• Observe the change you experience,
• If you do not experience change, re-examine your intentions.

All this is really saying is that, when exercising choice, we should work out what we want (in the long term), as well as why we want it, and observe whether each choice is a step towards that goal or a step away from it. And if we can’t tell, the chances are the choice is of no consequence, which mean it’s nothing to be afraid of.

Where’s the tyranny in that?

Famous quotes for overcoming fear of failure

There’s one box on the Facebook profile that’s always bothers me: favourite quotations. I never know what to put. Listing loads looks like I’m trying too hard but narrowing it down to one may make me look too intense – as if it’s a mantra for my every move.

Yet I do like quotations. They summarize great truths in a memorable phrase, making them far more influential than entire books written on similar subjects. If life comes down to a few moments (to quote Bud Fox in the original Wall Street), then – indeed – our beliefs come down to a few quotes, usually pithily summarized by famous or historical figures.

So what are mine? Given that I count myself as a recovering High-FF (someone overcoming fear of failure), here are four that I find myself quoting more than others.

“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent,” Eleanor Roosevelt (former U.S. first lady). I like this because it states that we are responsible for our feelings – especially with regards to our self beliefs. We must take responsibility for our inner reactions, even to insults.

We are all insulted from time-to-time but it normally says far more about the insulter than the insulted – unless we let it. Of course, this is easier said than done. Insults, or even unintentional slights, can cut us to the core because, so often, we feel they contain a grain of truth. If our self beliefs are negative we are bound to treat insults as confirmations, while ignoring or mistrusting flattery. Yet Roosevelt is simply pointing out that it is our reaction that matters here, not the insult itself (which may have even been unintentional).

“Don't regret not doing something, regret doing it,” Terry Venables (former England football coach). Terry was an Essex lad with West End tastes, and this may sometimes have led him astray. But it more often led him towards achieving his goals. The key is he took action. Sure he made mistakes but his regrets were based on his actions, not his inactions.

I can certainly empathise with this. My first book, published in 2000, contains some passages that make me cringe with embarrassment every time I’m reminded of them. Indeed, my mother, who read a proof, warned me that I’d end up regretting the book if I allowed it to be published. She was right, of course. But the other voice in my head – the one saying that what I’d really regret is turning aside the chance to fulfil my ambition of becoming a published author – was more right.

Life often comes down to decisions between action and inaction: change versus the status quo. All Venables is saying is that the worst form of regret is the “if only” retrospective. Mistakes made are far better than opportunities lost – at least if we want to make progress in our life.

In the end, even my cringe at some of the content of my previous book soon turns to a smile. What was I thinking? I say to myself, and then inwardly chuckle – having learnt the lesson that I need to be aware that what I write today will matter tomorrow. If I’d listened to my mother, however, my frustration at the lost opportunity would have been unbearable.

“KBO (keep buggering on),” Winston Churchill (former UK PM). This became his motto during what his biographers termed the wilderness years of the 1930s. From the backbenches of the House of Commons he tried to warn the world of the dangers of Nazism while the war-weary democracies ignored him, even seeing him as a warmonger (a charge that returned after the war). Yet he also used it during the bleak years of the 1940s with Britain being bombed nightly by a seemingly-invincible enemy.

In both cases it captures the mood perfectly. Emboldened by his inner beliefs and convictions, the phrase allowed Churchill to keep going despite numerous setbacks and humiliations. After each knock Churchill would pick himself up, dust himself down, learn the lesson, mutter "KBO" and move on – no less convinced of the inalienable truth of his cause.

In fact Churchill coined many memorable quotations during his extraordinary life (although modern revisionists lacking Churchill’s originality of thought like to claim he stole some of them). How about this one to enrich his KBO theme: “If you are going through hell, keep going”. As with KBO, it recognises the struggle. The pain is acknowledged, as is the difficulty. Nonetheless, the only allowable response is to, indeed, keep going.

“Show me a good loser, and I’ll show you a loser,” Alan Hansen (former footballer and current TV football pundit). This is perhaps an unusual one to include because it smacks of the school “Jock” lording it over his weedier peers. The phrase is, indeed, laced with testosterone but that’s just one interpretation – and certainly the one I would have chosen in previous years. Now it tells me that I must have fight. That I cannot be a pacifist in my own endeavours.

Frustration is a key “action signal”, as "life-change" guru Anthony Robbins would say. If we feel like a loser – that life is unfair and has gone against us - that we are capable of more and better but that our luck or timing was out, then, in fact, those are good feelings because they can be converted into action. The worst response – at least for our progress – is to shrug and smile and console ourselves that the other guy was probably more deserving anyway. No he/she wasn’t. It was indeed unfair. We were cheated. The result was a travesty.

Convert that anger into energy, point that energy in the right direction, pull the trigger – and GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!

Can the short guy get the girl? Not if he hates himself

On the tube back to the office I pick up a discarded copy of The Sun newspaper and turned to what’s always my favourite section – the Dear Deirdre problems page. These are normally mildly titillating but the agonies of one 19-year old male struck home. He was confessing his hatred of his 5’ 6” height – stating it had become a major disadvantage in his social life. While his friends were out clubbing and chatting to the opposite sex, he had lost confidence and now avoided social situations – concerned he’d be rejected by females or even laughed at.

Deirdre’s response was that, at 19, he may still grow and that he should seek counselling to explore why his height had caused him to lose confidence. This seemed inadequate to me – almost a dismissal. So could this 5’8” 40-something male do any better? I could try.

1) First the bad news. Sure, you may yet grow, but you may not. In fact, your loss of confidence is perhaps a natural response to the realisation that this may be it in terms of height. It is also the right response – denial or fantasizing is ridiculous. You are at least seeing the reality and facing your demons, even if – at the moment – you hate what you are seeing (stick with me here, it gets better).

2) Does it matter? Yes, it does. Most women are naturally attracted to men considerably taller than themselves – so your pool of available females is reduced. And it will also have an impact in your career – taller men do tend to generate a confidence in others that means they are more successful. Yet don’t despair. Over time, this in-built disadvantage will disappear – I promise – as long as you take the right path now.

3) At 19, low stature is, indeed, agony. Yet the male trait that – in my experience – women tend to most admire in men is not height but confidence. And it’s height that gives men the confidence to approach women in social situations. But so does money and power – hence those assets also being an aphrodisiac, at least to the men (BTW: I’m keen to emphasise that I'm stating the truth as I see it, not passing judgement on whether society is right in its evaluations). As a 19-year old you are unlikely to have much money or power, however, so the key confidence-building asset at this stage is your looks, of which stature is probably the most significant. Yet now is the winter of your discontent – things will improve.

4) First up is aging. Height makes you look older, which will be a disadvantage for far longer than the 10 or so years in which it’s an advantage. People age at different speeds and, from about 30 onwards, shorter men tend to look significantly younger than their taller peers. Also, even physically, older men are judged on far more than their height. Hair for instance – losing your hair is no respecter of height or looks (notice Prince William). Weight is another example. Staying trim is totally in your power and is more and more appreciated by potential partners as we all fill-out from about 30 onwards. Avoiding smoking, excessive alcohol and drugs-use is another way of retaining your youthful looks. And this is all to your long-term advantage – success as a nightclubbing teenager can easily result in excessive hedonism that, by 30, will have taken a major physical toll. Your failures in this environment, therefore, may stand you in good stead over time.

5) Yet it’s the zone beyond the physical where you can really prosper. In just a few years from now your height will have little significance – especially with respect to your interaction with women. At your age, few people are settling into longer-term relationships so the whole game feels like an episode of 90210 or Hollyoaks. Yet this phase is short-lived and, soon-enough, flings will start converting into longer-term relationships that require a totally different set of attributes. Honesty, commitment, humour, tolerance - all are traits required for successful long-term relationships. Meanwhile the good-looking tall guy may have developed alternative traits – including arrogance, vanity and selfishness – that become increasingly ugly to women seeking a soul mate (even if those traits looked initially attractive). Of course, not all tall men develop these traits – but my experience is that those relying solely on their height often do.

6) This also works in your career. Tall-guys may initially prosper because they look the part and, given their success, soon act the part. Yet careers are a marathon not a sprint. And “winging it” based on first impressions becomes less of an option as we progress. Diligence, preparation and endeavour are far more important traits over the long term and the short guy – needing to overcome his inbuilt disadvantage – is often the most diligent and best prepared person in the room (except perhaps for female executives or others who also perceive barriers to their progress based on judgements other than their competence). So the lesson here is not to sulk and get angry, but to get organised and work hard. Ex-chancellor Nigel Lawson used to invest in companies where the CEO (if male) was 5’8” or shorter because he knew that, in order for that man to get to that seniority, he had to be that much better than his rivals. Of course, talented tall men also prosper (probably more so) but the bluff of mere height is eventually exposed, I promise, making the workplace much more of an even playing field over time.

7) Yet the above stated benefits are all to come. What can I say that can help you now? Plenty. First up is the fact you may be socializing in the wrong place. Flashy and noisy nightclubs and bars are geared towards purely physical judgements – just look at the trouble women have to go to in order to compete in such an environment! At your age I lived in Essex – land of the glamour nightspots and shallow vanities. Once at university in Manchester, however, the whole scene changed to one where I was judged on my personality rather than my appearance. My height insecurities disappeared. So if you are being judged for your height – and it is frustrating you – then my guess is you are too intelligent for your current environment. See your hurt as an “action signal” for finding a better place where judgements are not so skin deep. And it may also be worth remembering that the whole nightclub scenario – boy approaches girl and tries to chat her up – is a total pain for all but the shallowest female. Worthy partners will not appreciate the nightclub pick-up because they’ll assume you’re yet another jerk playing the numbers game. So don’t be that jerk. My advice is to avoid those places like the plague and instead look for a social life where some form of verbal inter-action is at least possible: not least because the women you meet will be a lot nicer.

8) Develop your personality. Clearly, your height concerns are making you miserable. Yet the key thing to remember is that it’s your reaction that’s unattractive – not you physically. Short guys are always getting the girl: self-haters, sulkers and depressives, meanwhile, will only attract others with the same insecurities. Along with confidence, most women absolutely love a cheeky smile and a joke. Yet both are impossible if you’re so focused on the potential downside of your height. Short men that respond by developing a strong personality are at a fantastic advantage (although, again, not in a flashy nightclub). For instance, nearly all comedians are below average height. Yet few have problems when it comes to attracting partners.

9) Never ever wear anything to make you taller – such as high-heels or lifts. They will ultimately compound your insecurities. However, you can help overcome disadvantages by being well dressed. Just as the 1960s Mods were determined to wear better suits than their bosses, so you should become sartorially more skilled than your taller rivals. I don’t mean “frontal lobotomy” designer crap. I mean Trinny & Susannah awareness of what works for you and an attention to detail in this respect. With hair and general grooming also, don’t overdo it but get it right. Invest in your look – but do the research first

10) Finally, remember Eleanor Roosevelt’s famous quote, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent”. You may need to reframe your view of the jibes and insults you receive. Just as you have about your height, nearly everyone has some insecurity that eats away at them even if they are good at hiding it. This is mostly revealed by put downs of others or joy at another’s misfortune. I once met a very confident short man and asked him if he was ever bothered by negative comments about his height. “What! You mean those comments from insecure tall men?” he said. “That’s just them revealing their inadequacies.” It took me years to realise the fundamental truth of this but, I now accept this as a statement of fact: if the only thing going for you is your height, you knock the short guy as a way of trying to impose your warped view of hierarchy. A classic example of this was the recent spat between French President Nicholas Sarkozy (5’5”) and his rival, the upper class Dominique de Villepin (6’3”). Beaten to the presidency by the shorter man, de Villepin took to referring to him as “the dwarf”. Yet, despite some very real concerns about Sarkozy’s treatment of his rival, such bitterness backfired on Villepin. Not only did it reveal him as an insecure loser, it gave the whole of France a strong clue as to why he probably lost (Sarkozy’s main rival now is the 5’7” Dominique Strauss-Kahn). Through diligence, endeavour and organisation, Sarkozy turned his height disadvantage into a major driver for his ambition – not least with respect to winning the girl.

Allen Carr for the soul

When researching What’s Stopping You? I quickly became disenchanted with nearly all of the self-help books I’d read over the years. It wasn’t their recommendations that bothered me – in fact many contained some great tips and methodologies that have been included in my book (TBP February 2011 by John Wiley & Sons). It was more fundamental than that. I had a problem with their premise.

The main issue was what they promised, which was a cure for mental conditions such as fear of failure and low self esteeem. Researching my book meant talking to psychologists and researching both academic and popular psychology texts. And each time the same fundamental truth screamed out at me: our fears and insecurities – including fear of failure, low self-esteem, anxiety and poor confidence – are innate. Once and however inflicted we are hardwired to our inner beliefs. Sure we can treat the symptoms but our core beliefs are here for life. As I say in the book, that monkey on my back (you know the one – he whispers doubts and fears at the very moments we need confidence and resilience) isn’t going to just disappear after a few motivational passages from a self-help guru. So why are so many self-help books promising to “change your life – forever” when it is something they simply cannot deliver?

Of course, there’s a chance many of the authors realise this but know that offering progress (via their techniques) without the all-important promise of wholesale changes to our personality would compromise their marketability. They surmised, probably rightly, that people are looking for a cure for their insecurities – in fact they are looking for a cure that is pretty much instant. And while the books were incapable of delivering on their promises in full, they reasoned that any application of their techniques would deliver some progress, which would justify the over-promising.

Yet this just wasn’t good enough for me, or – I thought – the many intelligent people out there that are hampered by their insecurities. Sure, they want help, but smart people only have to pick up most of these books to see through the over-promising. They are turned off by the smiling face of “Mr Successful” beaming out from the front cover, before making statements such as “it worked for me, it’ll work for you”. Indeed, words like “mastering” “unlimited” “guaranteed” are everywhere. And everywhere they put off intelligent people that, nonetheless, want to navigate their insecurities.

So while I thought there was a market for a book that didn’t treat the reader like a child – that told the truth about our condition but then helped us use self-help methodologies to make strong progress anyway – I did worry whether such a book would have any resonance with a wider audience (than just me, that is). Just maybe those smart people were also too self-conscious – or maybe too British – to ever buy a book written with them in mind.

Luckily I had one, somewhat unusual, example as a potential template: Allen Carr’s the Easy Way to Stop Smoking (1985). Despite helping millions of people give up smoking – and despite the book’s name – Carr offers no miracle cure for the nicotine addict. The first half of the book simply describes the life of a smoker – exploding many myths and delusions about the impact of smoking (for instance, explaining that it causes rather than relieves stress) – and the nature of addiction (explaining that it is no more than a mild feeling of emptiness, that dissipates in a few days).

Crucially, Carr – a former 100-cigarettes a day addict – then tells us that the desire to smoke will not simply disappear. Even after a period of not smoking – even when we think we have finally conquered the addiction – we will occasionally be triggered by situations where we had previously “enjoyed” smoking. Carr states that these are the moments we must guard against and plan for. But, with his help, the smoker can navigate their way such triggerings via self-awareness and clear thinking.

Carr’s trick is to describe, not only the false paradigm that is the world of the smoker, but how we will behave once we quit. First, the “monster inside us” (in fact a similar creature to the monkey on my back) will kick and scream as it copes with nicotine withdrawals. But it will soon realise it has to get clever – suggesting a reward for “having done so well” or claiming that it was so easy “we could quit anytime” – or even going for the “just one puff” honeytrap. Then it will get angry and try anything to trap us: for instance inventing rows with loved ones so we can shout “look what you made me do” as we grab the fags. Yet through self-realisation that this is happening we are no longer fooled and can call the monster’s bluff.

Carr made the smoker mentally ready for the battle ahead – not through any self delusions (except perhaps in the title of his book) – but through self awareness. And that was my aim when writing What’s Stopping You? I’m not promising a cure. The clinical evidence suggests that we will have to accept the news that we are who we are. The fears that dog us now will always be with us. But that doesn’t mean we are helpless. Far from it. It just means that we must take account of our fears and insecurities as we make progress. We need to be aware of our faulty wiring – helping us benchmark judgements that take account of the fact we are likely to be making fear-based, rather than rational, evaluations.

In the writing of What’s Stopping You? therefore, I have to acknowledge my debt to Allen Carr. Oh, and he also helped me stop smoking in 1991 after 10-years as an "addict". By the way, Allen Carr died of lung cancer in 2006 and, despite probably saving thousands from a similar fate, has never been recognised by the UK government for his work. The reason: according to Carr, the government ignored his recommendations because they were a refutation of the nicotine replacement therapy the government (thanks to powerful lobbying) favoured. So much for self-awareness.

Ten tips for motivating (new) hires

I was clearing out my folders the other day and came across this – a note I sent to two of Moorgate’s seniors as they began to develop their own teams. I reproduce it here in full, because it is worth seeing as an “authentic” and genuine piece of advice, although it is possible to already see the influence of What’s Stopping You? (TBP February 2011). Obviously, it's also heavily geared towards the PR industry, but I hope there is some resonance elsewhere (and, yes, I realise it is a bit “Martin Lukes” but I was trying to fire-up enthusiasm for team-nurturing among managers that had not previously seen it as their role).

Ten tips for motivating (new) hires
1) Paint a broad picture. It is important that they immediately see the entire scope of their world – whether this is project wide, client wide, Moorgate wide or even – as I like to do – market wide. I take out new recruits and tell them about how what we do fits in to the business world – this is our part in it. I also tell them about every client, the structure of the company, our future prospects and recent history. This makes them see where they fit into the company – both now and in the future - and how the company fits into the world. It also prevents them working in a vacuum. They can see how their endeavours fit in with the broader picture. Adam Smith broke the pin manufacturing process into 20 constituent parts and declared that specialisation of each element was the key to improved productivity. Yet we are not machines. Humans need to see the whole and to understand their part in the production of the end product (and the global usefulness of that end product) to feel motivated.

2) Delegate meaningfully. Don’t just hand them the dross. We have employed bright people with good academics, so we should throw something important at them from the start. We can employ any idiot to do the crap. My guess is that they’ll respond more to a meaningful challenge than to a meaningless one. But be sensible – the lead article in Risk for a Friday deadline may be a bit much. Something tangential but meaty, on the other hand, may do the trick.

3) Practice “one minute management”. Kenneth Blanchard’s book The One Minute Manager recommends that you spend just a minute outlining to team members a vision of the end result sought for the project. You then DO NOT micro-manage them (either at the start or during the project) in terms of how to achieve it. Especially with the Internet at their fingertips, they should be able to develop their own route to the result. By micro-managing the route to the solution, you risk making the meaningful task you have set them meaningless. No intelligent person wants to just carry out orders. They want to be given projects they can make their own. My wife has never learnt this with respect to my cooking – turning my offer to “do dinner” into a stand-over me session involving when and by how much to salt the vegetables. This, no matter how many times I tell her to critique the final dish rather than the step-by-step process. Demotivated, I usually now watch The News instead.

4) Be on hand but not domineering. Of course, they may get stuck and need some guidance. But this is not the point to say “that’s fine – leave it to me”. Again, offer “one minute guidance”. Just state, to the minimum, what direction to head in. The Internet may help here, or we can just say "why not call this guy on this", "we have a book on that", "try this article" etc. Also, best to guide using terms like “what has worked for me was...” rather than “come on, it’s bloody obvious how you find this out you thick idiot”.

5) Insist on a complete project – even first time. State the end result required and expect a version of that result – not a half version. You can then critique it on a holistic basis – stating what has worked and what has not. Even if they need to start again completely (which is rare) it is still better for them to learn the entire process on their own than be carried across the line by you. If they insist on telling you each step, fine, but this should only be verbal. Most half-done handovers are attempts at avoiding the tricky bits in order to go to lunch or surf the web. They learn less (except that you are a pushover) and leave you with the tricky bits. This is why I even throw back articles that don’t have a headline.

6) Go through the whole project with them. Once they have handed over a complete first draft it is important to spend some time going through it with them. Explain the good and bad bits. Take your time here – this is the feedback bit and it should be given some respect. Don’t dismiss it out of hand even if they are 90 percent wrong. State the 10 percent positive as well. And say why and where you think the 90 percent went wrong. The chances are they took a wrong turn somewhere along the project – try and find this point and state it. From here they can start again.

7) If crap, make them start again. If it is 90 percent crap and you think “it’ll take me 30 minutes to do it myself, why go through another round of pain”, you’ll remain stressed, they’ll become increasingly convinced they are crap and the whole spiral goes in the wrong direction until a potentially strong colleague is lost. In the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People Stephen Covey talks about “sharpening the saw” – meaning that many prefer struggling away with a blunt saw because they feel they haven’t the time to sharpen it. This is self defeating. Unless your hire really is an idiot (in which case we shouldn’t have employed them) the onus is on us to make them productive. The length of time he or she remains unproductive is 90 percent down to us. So don’t give up and take over a project – however tempting.

8) Make them do the corrections. Again, the temptation is to take on the project ourselves at an early stage in order to get the job done. This is a mistake. Every correction you make on their work is a correction you’ll also have to make next time as they will not have learnt the need for such a correction. Sure explain it to them (verbally or by annotating the paper) but make sure it is explained. Your aim for them is perfection – nothing else. This can only be achieved by making them correct their own work, whether they think you are being petty and officious or not.

9) Tutor them in the ways of the office. Whether you agree with the office etiquette or not it is not arbitrary, it has been developed for a reason (usually to improve professionalism, to foster team equality or to prevent poor behaviour by individuals). It is important for new team members to feel part of the team as soon as possible, and offering help and guidance regarding the culture of the company is vital in this respect. Also remember that what you say at this point is important. If you undermine the culture of the company then you are undermining it on their behalf as well. This puts them on a collision course without their ascent, which is unfair. So be supportive or, at the very worst, neutral. This is particularly the case with respect to our hardly-draconian dress and time-keeping policies, but also on the niceties such as making the odd cup of tea or being tidy around the office. Being liked by colleagues is important to their well being (and if they don’t care about being liked – well, that is also revealing).

10) Get them in front of the client. While this can be risky it shouldn’t be too risky (or we screwed up in the interview process). It is therefore important to make them feel involved in the A-Z of the process as soon as possible. And, as we are a company aimed at offering communications services to clients, this means getting them communicating with clients – and editors – asap. In fact, the early meaty projects given to them should remain with them even if that means them communicating with the client or an editor. Again, one minute management should suffice in instructing them (though it does no harm reminding them that they need to be polite to the people that put food and drink on our table). Emailing clients with you CCed, may offer a lower-risk start to the process.

11) OK, one more than 10 – finally, show them some respect. Chances are they will turn up with a mix of correct and incorrect assumptions about work. Who cares? It is not our job to take on these assumptions, at least not head on. We are simply a company trying to win some clients and to please the clients we do win so that they’ll carry on using us and pay their bills. If they have ideas about this, fine. Let’s listen to them (even if we decide not to act upon those ideas). As far as I’m concerned the more people coming up with big-picture ideas the better. So big-picture thinking is to be encouraged.

Concerned by the weather? Then change it (your concern that is)

The darkening skies and encroaching cold do it to me every year. I start wishing I lived in California. The signal is usually the return to GMT, which this year coincided with Halloween – another sign-post indicating the misery ahead for any Earth-dwellers living over 3,500 miles from the Equator.

Sorry, I should cheer up I know: the Christmas Season can be lovely – unless, of course, you own a PR company. And then it’s all contract-renewal paranoia mixed with a truncated-month, fattened pay-packets (except your own) and hungover colleagues.

Oh dear, oh dear – perhaps Stephen Covey can snap me out of it. In the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People he writes that it is the world of the reactive person to spend their lives angry and depressed about things they can do nothing about, such as the weather or December’s unstoppable approach. As far as Covey is concerned, railing against such things is about as effective as barking at the Moon: emotional energy expended with absolutely no return.

Instead, Covey offers us a major point of mental differentiation between what we should, and shouldn’t, be bothered about. If we want to be more effective as a person we have to divide the world into those things we can influence and those we can’t, with the correct focus for our energies being what is within our power to change.

Covey maps this by describing all external inputs into our life as being part of our Circle of Concern. However, some of these inputs are beyond our control, such as – indeed – the weather and the seasons, but also the traffic, or the actions of governments or large corporations (or the unions given London’s recent spate of strikes).

What we can determine within the Circle of Concern – such as our own well-being and our work and home life – he calls our Circle of Influence. And anybody trying to take action to make progress in their life should focus only on what they can change – their Circle of Influence – leaving areas where we have no influence both physically and mentally alone.

Of course, this doesn’t stop us reacting to uncontrollable events beyond our Circle of Influence but still within our Circle of Concern. It is human nature to grumble about such things. Yet if we spend our lives becoming angry at what we are powerless to control we will compound our sense of powerlessness – even ending up feeling victimised by what we perceive as the forces lined up against us. Proactive and effective people, meanwhile, change what is changeable by focusing only on what is within their Circle of Influence – at least according to Covey.

Yet there's a major caveat to this. If we are truly bothered by particular events beyond our Circle of Influence we can make sustained efforts to influence them – perhaps by making that move to California, or by standing as an MP in order to influence governments, or by changing our commuting arrangements to avoid the traffic or transport unions.

Indeed, surely I could do this with my own circumstances? I run my own business, so why not move to California, or Florida, or even the financial boomtowns of Singapore or Dubai? Surely, if I’m that bothered about things within my Circle of Concern (such as the weather) the only mentally-sustainable route is to make the changes necessary to put those things within my Circle of Influence.

So why not? Perhaps because we are fearful of making the move – not an uncommon problem for those with high fear of failure (the target audience for my forthcoming book: What’s Stopping You?). But perhaps there’s another reason. Just maybe any examination of what we’d have to sacrifice to render something within our Circle of Influence reveals that those frustrations aren’t quite as acute as they seem. My desire to live in California, for instance, would require me to disrupt my children’s education – and their burgeoning friendships. It would part us from our friends and family. And it would mean moving away from a city I actually love and admire despite its many frustrations.

Indeed, California seems like a bit of a backwater to me, compared to London or, say, New York. And a move to New York leaves me no better off with respect to the weather (as anyone experiencing a New York winter can tell you). In fact, London winters are usually rather mild (last year excepted). And there’s the skiing season to come. And did I mention Christmas? Sure, the office environment can be a bit annoying during December but experiencing Christmas through the eyes of my two small boys is pretty wonderful. As was Halloween come to that. And there’s the fireworks to come at the weekend…

So just maybe it’s not proactivity that will get me out of my annual autumnal funk – it’s simply finding a different perspective from which to view it.

The greatest self-help philosopher of all? Karl Popper of course

A reposting of old posts (from the old blog) that I like.

Having just written a self-help book (What’s Stopping You? TBP 2011) about overcoming fear of failure, it may seem odd that one of the books I enthusiastically quote is an anti self-help diatribe. In The Last Self-Help Book You’ll Ever Need (2005) neuropsychologist Paul Pearsall attacks the self-help industry’s version of happiness and fulfilment and instead suggests greater “well-being” may come from developing a “contrarian consciousness” or what he calls a “yes but” mental attitude.

In other words Pearsall’s plea is for a high level of scepticism regarding the claims of the self-help industry or “self potential” movement as he calls it. There’s “not just one good life” he states, so we should stop looking for it – and instead search for “a good life”. Discontentment cannot be cured by consumption, he claims, even of ideas. Indeed, it is the “compliant thinking” encouraged by the self-help industry that seems to most annoy Pearsall. Sometimes vulnerable people evaluate this now huge industry at face value, he states – accepting the strong words flowing from the page or DVD because they sound right and feel comforting and appeal directly to our own personal pain. Yet in doing so we are ignoring the rigours of scientific reasoning – often we are ignoring our own intuition and experience.

Indeed, we have been hypnotised – but not in order to improve our lives. Instead, we have been seduced into unquestioningly believing and accepting the statements of the “guru” or “life-coach” saying them. How could we not? After all, to question the validity of the cure is to render it impotent. The balm only works if we believe – and even if that belief conjures no more than the benefits of a placebo effect, at least it still counts as a benefit, doesn’t it?

Yet Pearsall states we must be mindful of the claims of the self-help industry – nothing is proven and much of it is “grounded” not in science but in mysticism and spirituality. Of course, Pearsall’s attitude chimes well with my own, which is why I liked his book. In my view conditions such as fear of failure are incurable, although progress is possible once we realise this and restructure our responses accordingly. But he also struck a chord because he made me realise my own approach may have stronger theoretical roots than I had previously realised.

In fact, Pearsall’s book took me right back to my first-year undergraduate lectures in political theory. Wide-eyed with enthusiasm I would arrive at the Monday lecture to hear about the works and theories of Thomas Hobbes, or John Locke, or Jean-Jacques Rousseau or Max Weber or Karl Marx. After 90 minutes I was inevitably convinced and would spend the rest of the week becoming further indoctrinated by reading the actual works or other supporting books and articles. Yet on the following Monday we’d hear the critique of the theorist – the often blood-drenched riposte that would leave me cursing my naivety at ever being taken in by such an obvious charlatan with so easily-refutable ideas.

This cycle of conviction and disillusion – of total belief followed by total disbelief – lasted until the Monday of the lecture on Karl Popper. Popper’s quest was to decide from all the theories and ideas that had sometimes fiercely competed in the post-Enlightenment world what was science and what was not science. Far from trying to disprove a particular theory or philosophy, Popper was simply trying to find a way of cutting through the noise – of being able to evaluate the ideas being postulated and see which deserved to be labeled a “science” and which didn’t.

This transformed my view of politics. Popper had shared my confusion, but instead of bobbing about with the ebbs and flows and currents – as I had in those Monday morning lectures in 1980s Manchester – he had invented a structure by which non-quantifiable ideas could be immediately judged. His key notion was one of falsifiability or refutability – that anything purporting to be a scientific theory had to be able to submit itself to physical experiments that could show it to be false. This doesn’t mean that it is false, just that the theory offers observable predictions that are open to being proved or disproved.

For instance, if we theorized that once the workers had seized the modes of production for themselves the state would whither away, we are open to the charge of refutability if the state stubbornly refuses to die and in fact grows stronger. And while we can quibble regarding the reasons why our theory failed to pan out as predicted, it has nonetheless been falsified and therefore can no longer call itself a scientific theory. Of course, those that cling to this view could add the word “eventually” to the notion that the workers’ paradise will lose the mechanisms of the state – but this is to render the theory “unfalsifiable” according to Popper, which still relegates it from the world of scientific theory.

Yet just because something is "falsifiable" doesn’t mean it is false, just that it can be tested and potentially disproved by observable experiments. However, it is a hurdle that most political theories failed to overcome – most either failing falsifiability tests or ducking them – although it must be stressed it doesn’t render them pointless or false. They may still be valid treatise on the perfectibility – or otherwise – of man. But, importantly, they are not science and should not be treated as such. Certainly, Popper wasn’t condemning unfalsifiable theories, just stating that they were non-scientific. For example, he stated that religious ideas have cultural or spiritual meaning and that people were entitled to believe them, especially if it brought them some comfort. But they were not and could not be scientifically proven, which matters in terms of claims regarding the “truth” of any hypothesis.

In my view the self-help industry would be revolutionized by a swift application of Popperian rigour. Almost all the “guaranteed” cures and methodologies – often wrapped up in fantastically pseudo-scientific language – would be rendered “unfalsifiable” and therefore unscientific. Valuable they may be to those they give comfort, but science – at least according to Karl Popper – they ain’t.

So where does this leave us in terms of seeking a cure for fear of failure, or any other fear of emotion-based condition? Potentially in a better place, in my opinion. With no guaranteed cure available, maybe we are – according to Pearsall – able to develop a better perspective, although not necessarily a more positive one. Indeed, constantly “thinking positively” about tomorrow robs us of the joys or critical thinking and of fully experiencing today, he says. Instead of “self-absorption” via all-embracing philosophies or techniques, he suggests we develop the seven more critical attributes of a healthy personality:

1. Be sceptical,
2. Be willing to deceive yourself, especially in favour of loved ones,
3. Embrace the craziness that is your family,
4. Workaholism is not necessarily bad for you if you’re doing something you love,
5. Obsessing about your health isn’t good for your health,
6. Realise its impossible to stay young forever and get on with the rest of your life,
7. Death is not the enemy. It is just another part of life – deal with it.

And while these seven attributes may not be Popperian in their falsifiability – in fact Pearsall makes no claim to be scientific – they at least take the world as it is and therefore have some grounding in reality, which in the self-help industry is progress indeed.