Last night’s Apprentice on BBC1 shocked me, but not for the reasons I suspect it shocked most others. To recall, the all-female team failed the task – not least because they spent the entire time bickering. In the “boardroom” – the dramatic staged finale to each episode where one contestant is “fired” – this bickering exploded into shouted accusations, hurled insults and general aggression towards each other. Of course, the programme allowed this “outrageous” scene to play out before Karen Brady, Lord Sugar’s new female sidekick, delivered a stern lecture on “women in business” and the fact they were offering a poor demonstration of female capabilities in the boardroom. They had “let down their gender” as someone (admittedly a comic) pointed out on the aftershow (not that I’m addicted).
And it was this assumption that shocked me. I was shocked by the gall of it. Leaving aside the fact I doubt a bickering all-male team would have been judged to have “let their gender down”, it amazes me that one of the show’s main protagonists decided to offer a lecture on the fact the show’s premise had delivered on its promise. This modern-day gladiatorial contest had resulted in, well, a gladiatorial contest: cue shock and admonishments.
This is Big Brother for, er, grownups, with the contestants picked, not because they are likely to be good at business and therefore a suitable employee for Sugar’s Brentwood-based ventures, but because they are likely to make good television. Given this, it is no surprise that the most obviously competent candidate – the captain of the other team Stella – is also blond and so pleasing to the eye that she ended up modelling her team’s product in a swimsuit. I have no doubt that the 1000s of other obviously-competent applicants were rejected on the grounds that they’d look less than compelling in a swimsuit. For those with less-than-stellar looks, meanwhile, incompetence – or some other comically-televisual trait we have yet to discover – is a must.
Certainly, Karen Brady had no right to lecture anyone for behaving in a way the programme has encouraged from the start. In that respects it is no different to a ref on WWE penalising a wrestler for poking someone in the eye, in the full knowledge that it’s that sort of behaviour the crowd have come to see. And just as wrestling is no more than theatrical combat – a parody or lampooning of reality – The Apprentice is equally a distorting mirror for the world of work: executed by clever TV creatives that have the pleasure of standing aloft in their mockery.
In fact the programme showed its true Darwinian savagery last night. It was clear from the start that the all-female team saw the dipsy project manager, 22-year old Laura, as an easy target and immediately set about undermining her. Indeed, she was hopeless but the whiff of blood clearly affected the behaviour of her team mates – generating a near-feeding frenzy by the end, especially as she (successfully, as it happens) tried to fight back against her seemingly-inevitable firing.
Of course, for those “fired” at the end, their dreams of reality-TV stardom are also finished, barring an appearance on the aftershow. This is a fate to be avoided at all costs. They are fighting for their celebrity life, after all, so they fight-like-hell – as they are encouraged to do. This was also evidenced last night by the fact it was Joy that was fired, the one person that kept her dignity and showed reluctance to dive into the scrap.
In fact it was Joy’s behaviour that first made me think The Apprentice an appropriate subject for a blog. For me, she showed clear signs of fear of failure, both during the task and in those crucial moments in the boardroom. Nervous of failing, she backed off from the task itself and was then incapable of defending herself in the boardroom when up against the scrapers.
Yet Joy was not alone in fearing failure on this show. As I write in What’s Stopping You? (TBP in 2011) fear of failure manifests itself in many ways, not just in withdrawal, and certainly not always through meekness. There is the brooding back-stabber, the angry shouter, or the scheming Machiavellian – all of which were on display last night and have been in every episode of The Apprentice ever broadcast. But, of course, the programme is set up to encourage fear of failure and the changes in behaviour such fears engender. Given this, it isn’t the women that “let down their gender” last night, it’s the programme makers that revealed their usual stereo-typical and self-fulfilling prejudices towards the world of work – at least for us mere mortals not working in television.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Do they really “f*** you up”?
The nature versus nurture debate was one that I faced when writing What’s Stopping You? Do our genes dictate our personality traits, or is it conditioning? Having said this I was a reluctant participant, at first adopting the classic fence-sitting position of stating that it is usually a bit of both. Such reluctance is understandable. I learnt from my first book that book publishing is more about winning friends than creating enemies, especially as this debate gets political – for instance the existence of a gay gene, or otherwise, can cause some pretty heated exchanges.
Yet one book forced me off the fence – not on the existence or otherwise of a gay gene I hasten to add but on the fact it is early life experiences that shape our personality and, importantly for the subject of the book, our fears and phobias. And that includes fear of failure, the core concern in What’s Stopping You?
That book was They F*** You Up (2002) by Oliver James, subtitled: how to survive family life. It is James’s contention that our early-life interactions with parents and siblings that has the overwhelming say when it comes to deciding who we are and how we evaluate and respond to the external influences that come our way.
“Yes genes do establish a basic repertoire of traits in nearly all humans,” says James, “but the subtle differences between us in their expression are largely determined by our upbringing.”
One piece of evidence he sets out for this is the Human Genome Project, which aimed at mapping our genes in the expectation humans would have at least 100,000 different genes. Instead they found just 30-40,000 – only twice the number of the common fruit fly. This led a leader of the project, Craig Venter to conclude that genes cannot play more than a minor role in determining the differences between us.
Indeed, James is quite emphatic about this, stating that studies have shown that hardly any psychological differences are predetermined. In his book James focuses on identical twins – pairings that have exactly the same genes so any psychological differences between them must have environmental origins.
James interviews two identical twins from popular culture – Gayle and Gillian Blakeney, stars of the day-time soap Neighbours. To underline their physical similarities, James relays that the two had just been to the opticians to discover that their eye-sight had deteriorated by the same degree over the same period and, he stated, that during the interview he continually mixed them up despite the fact they were dressed very differently.
Psychologically, however, James claims they were chalk and cheese. Gillian was assertive and aggressive – Tomboyish as a child with a shorter fuse and the occasional petulant outburst. She was treated as the baby of the family (in fact was nine minutes the younger), and described herself as a “daddy’s girl” although borrowed many mannerisms from her mother. Yet she was the mentally stronger of the two – confident and manipulative – describing her sibling relationship as a “marriage” in which she played the masculine role.
Meanwhile, Gayle was the opposite. She was less assertive and more helpful as a child – keen to win her parent’s approval. She was the older sister and acted as such: listening, trusting, giving, more reflective. She was shy with men and preferred “brainy types” while her sister plumped for more stereo-typical masculinity.
James cites that a key aspect in their differences was the way in which both were treated by their parents. The mother “was always on Gillian’s side”, excusing her bad behaviour while Gayle struggled to win parental approval. Of course, as James states, this could still be genetic. If we are lovable, we attract more love, although if we are born with the same genes as our twin, surely we would be equally lovable – or not?
Yet shared genes do not mean we are born the same person. For instance, twins may have very different experiences in the womb, winning or losing the struggle for nutrients, space and comfort or perhaps being inadvertently kicked by the other one. Certainly, traumas can begin in the womb – even generating feelings of post-traumatic stress disorder. For instance, Yale University’s Dennis Charney states that significant traumas can occur in the womb (perhaps passed through the mother) – making us unaware of the events that could shape our personalities and fears.
My own anecdotes support this (although I’m aware that it’s always possible to find anecdotal evidence to support a prejudice). I remember spending a lovely summer holiday in the home of an artist who had deep and sometimes disturbing melancholic tendencies that his sister attributed, at least in part, to the death of a sibling while their mother was pregnant with her brother. The mother’s sense of loss and sadness was transferred to the foetus – at least that was his sister’s conclusion.
And even in my own family I can see a psychological difference between my two boys that I sometimes wonder about. The eldest was over two weeks late and was an incredibly relaxed baby – rarely crying, even when receiving injections. Due to obstetric cholestasis my youngest was born nearly a month before term by emergency Caesarean – a process he certainly didn’t enjoy. He remains more anxious and sensitive than his brother and less able to take the world as it comes.
Of course, my sample size is insignificant, but it is interesting nonetheless. And it does bring us to one significant conclusion. That despite the title of his book, nor the content of mine, neither Oliver James or What’s Stopping You? are pointing fingers for mental conditions such as fear of failure. While convinced that environmental factors played by far the most significant part, the environment starts in the womb and could have any number of factors. It is a major stretch from here to an “I blame the parents” position.
And genes are clearly apparent in some conditions. Autism, dyslexia, depression are most certainly genes-related, although may perhaps be exacerbated by self-perpetuating environments that roll down the generations. Having said this, James claims that “science now accepts” that, in most psychological fashioning, genes play only a minor role – a conclusion I’m also prepared to (mostly) accept as the basis for analysis within What’s Stopping You? - although the qualification in parenthesis suggests that I’m still more comfortable with at least one hand on the fence.
Yet one book forced me off the fence – not on the existence or otherwise of a gay gene I hasten to add but on the fact it is early life experiences that shape our personality and, importantly for the subject of the book, our fears and phobias. And that includes fear of failure, the core concern in What’s Stopping You?
That book was They F*** You Up (2002) by Oliver James, subtitled: how to survive family life. It is James’s contention that our early-life interactions with parents and siblings that has the overwhelming say when it comes to deciding who we are and how we evaluate and respond to the external influences that come our way.
“Yes genes do establish a basic repertoire of traits in nearly all humans,” says James, “but the subtle differences between us in their expression are largely determined by our upbringing.”
One piece of evidence he sets out for this is the Human Genome Project, which aimed at mapping our genes in the expectation humans would have at least 100,000 different genes. Instead they found just 30-40,000 – only twice the number of the common fruit fly. This led a leader of the project, Craig Venter to conclude that genes cannot play more than a minor role in determining the differences between us.
Indeed, James is quite emphatic about this, stating that studies have shown that hardly any psychological differences are predetermined. In his book James focuses on identical twins – pairings that have exactly the same genes so any psychological differences between them must have environmental origins.
James interviews two identical twins from popular culture – Gayle and Gillian Blakeney, stars of the day-time soap Neighbours. To underline their physical similarities, James relays that the two had just been to the opticians to discover that their eye-sight had deteriorated by the same degree over the same period and, he stated, that during the interview he continually mixed them up despite the fact they were dressed very differently.
Psychologically, however, James claims they were chalk and cheese. Gillian was assertive and aggressive – Tomboyish as a child with a shorter fuse and the occasional petulant outburst. She was treated as the baby of the family (in fact was nine minutes the younger), and described herself as a “daddy’s girl” although borrowed many mannerisms from her mother. Yet she was the mentally stronger of the two – confident and manipulative – describing her sibling relationship as a “marriage” in which she played the masculine role.
Meanwhile, Gayle was the opposite. She was less assertive and more helpful as a child – keen to win her parent’s approval. She was the older sister and acted as such: listening, trusting, giving, more reflective. She was shy with men and preferred “brainy types” while her sister plumped for more stereo-typical masculinity.
James cites that a key aspect in their differences was the way in which both were treated by their parents. The mother “was always on Gillian’s side”, excusing her bad behaviour while Gayle struggled to win parental approval. Of course, as James states, this could still be genetic. If we are lovable, we attract more love, although if we are born with the same genes as our twin, surely we would be equally lovable – or not?
Yet shared genes do not mean we are born the same person. For instance, twins may have very different experiences in the womb, winning or losing the struggle for nutrients, space and comfort or perhaps being inadvertently kicked by the other one. Certainly, traumas can begin in the womb – even generating feelings of post-traumatic stress disorder. For instance, Yale University’s Dennis Charney states that significant traumas can occur in the womb (perhaps passed through the mother) – making us unaware of the events that could shape our personalities and fears.
My own anecdotes support this (although I’m aware that it’s always possible to find anecdotal evidence to support a prejudice). I remember spending a lovely summer holiday in the home of an artist who had deep and sometimes disturbing melancholic tendencies that his sister attributed, at least in part, to the death of a sibling while their mother was pregnant with her brother. The mother’s sense of loss and sadness was transferred to the foetus – at least that was his sister’s conclusion.
And even in my own family I can see a psychological difference between my two boys that I sometimes wonder about. The eldest was over two weeks late and was an incredibly relaxed baby – rarely crying, even when receiving injections. Due to obstetric cholestasis my youngest was born nearly a month before term by emergency Caesarean – a process he certainly didn’t enjoy. He remains more anxious and sensitive than his brother and less able to take the world as it comes.
Of course, my sample size is insignificant, but it is interesting nonetheless. And it does bring us to one significant conclusion. That despite the title of his book, nor the content of mine, neither Oliver James or What’s Stopping You? are pointing fingers for mental conditions such as fear of failure. While convinced that environmental factors played by far the most significant part, the environment starts in the womb and could have any number of factors. It is a major stretch from here to an “I blame the parents” position.
And genes are clearly apparent in some conditions. Autism, dyslexia, depression are most certainly genes-related, although may perhaps be exacerbated by self-perpetuating environments that roll down the generations. Having said this, James claims that “science now accepts” that, in most psychological fashioning, genes play only a minor role – a conclusion I’m also prepared to (mostly) accept as the basis for analysis within What’s Stopping You? - although the qualification in parenthesis suggests that I’m still more comfortable with at least one hand on the fence.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Luke just gave Billy a neural hijacking, or you can call me Shirley
The Today programme on BBC Radio 4 hosted an interesting debate on banker’s bonuses the other morning, although its fascination for me turned out to be different from my expectations.
The debate was between singer, songwriter, campaigner and all round “good bloke” Billy Bragg, and private equity investor, FT columnist and nasty “unrepentant capitalist” Luke Johnson, which means I immediately have to declare my interests. Luke is a friend and business associate, as well as the foreword writer for What’s Stopping You? Meanwhile, the Sage of Barking (or more recently Burton Bradstock) is a songsmith that made a deep impression on me as an angry young man in the 1980s – with many of his lyrics still captured in the dustier recesses of my mind. And I can’t even claim neutrality in the subject of the debate, having spent my entire post-university career sniffing around the City in one guise or another (journo/banker/PR) although my encounters with those legendary bonuses have been all-too brief.
All this gave me an acute interest in the debate. Yet it became of even deeper interest towards the end. Billy Bragg lost the debate, not because he was wrong – he pretty much has the entire population on his side when it comes to lambasting City-excesses including those “obscene” bonuses paid to bailed-out bankers. He lost because he lost his cool. Angered by one of Luke’s comments he unthinkingly and instinctively jumped in with a riposte that was patently nonsense, opening him up for the demolition that was duly delivered.
Billy had become emotional, and it rendered him – and therefore his argument – weak. In fact, he later accepted this as he opened a live debate on the same subject that evening at the British Library (the promotion of which explains the earlier radio interviews). He blamed the early hour of the radio programme and too much caffeine. Certainly, the Today programme suits City workers more than rockstars, and this may have been what did for Billy. Yet my interest was tweaked because it is not everyday you get to listen to someone having a “neural hijacking” on live national radio.
As I state in What’s Stopping You? such neural hijackings are a central cause-and-effect of poor results for those with high fear of failure (High-FFs as I call them). Arriving in the form of a neural surge through the body and triggering a flood of hormones they are the very moments that instantly throw High-FFs and others that may have confidence issues off course. Our primeval instincts of fight-or-flight have been triggered and our base reactions have taken over, with usually negative consequences. We may react with anger or fear but we do not react rationally. We react emotionally. Our uber-rational opponent, meanwhile, spots his or her chance and goes in for the kill. It is the neural equivalent of a boxer hitting the canvas – a game-changing moment where ascendency or otherwise is established. And the bloody-annoying thing for the hijacked is that these moments are entirely self-induced. We deliver our knock-out blow to ourselves, simply because we could not keep our emotions in check.
An important book explaining the causes, and impact, of neural hijackings is Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman. Here’s him describing the hijacking process:
“It is in moments such as these – when impulsive feeling overrides the rational – that the newly discovered role for the amygdale [a part of the brain dealing with emotions] is pivotal. Incoming signals from the senses let the amygdale scan every experience for trouble. This puts the amygdale in a powerful post in mental life, something like the psychological sentinel, challenging every situation, every perception, with but one kind of question in mind, the most punitive: ‘Is this something I hate? That hurts me? Something I fear’. If so – if the moment at hand somehow draws a ‘yes’ – the amygdale reacts instantaneously, like neural tripwire, telegraphing a message of crisis to all parts of the brain.”
Goleman also describes the instant impact these hijackings have on the body. For instance, if our hijacking induces an anger response blood rushes to the hands ready for action. Meanwhile, the heart rate increases and there is a surge of adrenalin and other hormones (such as cortisol). With fear, blood rushes to the skeletal muscles such as the legs, the face blanches and the body momentarily freezes as it decides whether hiding may be a better option than running or fighting. The body is put on general alert, making the hijacked person edgy and unfocused on anything other than the threat or object of anger. Basically, the hijacked person’s rationality and reasoning is, at that moment, shot.
An important aspect here – that Billy will need to be aware of as much as most High-FFs – is that these hijackings are inevitable. Those that react emotionally when triggered are likely to do so for the rest of their lives. There is no instant cure or quick fix that can remove the neural hijacking as a feature for people more emotionally sensitised than others, meaning that we will always have to be on guard for Goleman’s tripwire – catching us when we least expect it and sending us careering down an intensely frustrating alleyway with respect to our dealings with others. What we have to develop – and what What’s Stopping You? devotes considerable effort in attempting to achieve – is a better second response that can, in time and with effort, suppress the external expression of the neural hijacking. And this can, hopefully, reduce in number the occasions we are defeated by our own overly-emotional responses to a hijack-inducing situation.
A final point here concerns the fact I have used someone else – in this case Billy Bragg – to demonstrate a neural hijacking. Given my earlier blog apologising for preaching (Forgive me sinner for I have preached) this may seem like another example where I have strayed into assumption regarding someone else’s thoughts and potential insecurities. I have, but my inspiration here is the fact Billy Bragg admitted to “becoming a little emotional” on the radio when I heard him speak at the British Library later that day. He was clearly embarrassed and seemingly determined not to repeat the error during the live debate with Luke sitting next to him. He didn’t, but I thought I could detect intense concentration in order to avoid being triggered (just my guess – I have no proof of this and I apologise now to Billy Bragg if any of this is wide of the mark).
Certainly, I am not suggesting Billy has high fear of failure, although – as I have written on many occasions – it is rather typical of a High-FF to desire a life of pop-stardom. What I am saying is that, by his own admission, he became emotional during an important debate on something he feels passionately about. And I am almost certain he regrets doing so not least because it destroyed his reasoning. But he had no choice, he was triggered. And if what followed was not the consequence of a neural hijacking, you can call me Shirley.
The debate was between singer, songwriter, campaigner and all round “good bloke” Billy Bragg, and private equity investor, FT columnist and nasty “unrepentant capitalist” Luke Johnson, which means I immediately have to declare my interests. Luke is a friend and business associate, as well as the foreword writer for What’s Stopping You? Meanwhile, the Sage of Barking (or more recently Burton Bradstock) is a songsmith that made a deep impression on me as an angry young man in the 1980s – with many of his lyrics still captured in the dustier recesses of my mind. And I can’t even claim neutrality in the subject of the debate, having spent my entire post-university career sniffing around the City in one guise or another (journo/banker/PR) although my encounters with those legendary bonuses have been all-too brief.
All this gave me an acute interest in the debate. Yet it became of even deeper interest towards the end. Billy Bragg lost the debate, not because he was wrong – he pretty much has the entire population on his side when it comes to lambasting City-excesses including those “obscene” bonuses paid to bailed-out bankers. He lost because he lost his cool. Angered by one of Luke’s comments he unthinkingly and instinctively jumped in with a riposte that was patently nonsense, opening him up for the demolition that was duly delivered.
Billy had become emotional, and it rendered him – and therefore his argument – weak. In fact, he later accepted this as he opened a live debate on the same subject that evening at the British Library (the promotion of which explains the earlier radio interviews). He blamed the early hour of the radio programme and too much caffeine. Certainly, the Today programme suits City workers more than rockstars, and this may have been what did for Billy. Yet my interest was tweaked because it is not everyday you get to listen to someone having a “neural hijacking” on live national radio.
As I state in What’s Stopping You? such neural hijackings are a central cause-and-effect of poor results for those with high fear of failure (High-FFs as I call them). Arriving in the form of a neural surge through the body and triggering a flood of hormones they are the very moments that instantly throw High-FFs and others that may have confidence issues off course. Our primeval instincts of fight-or-flight have been triggered and our base reactions have taken over, with usually negative consequences. We may react with anger or fear but we do not react rationally. We react emotionally. Our uber-rational opponent, meanwhile, spots his or her chance and goes in for the kill. It is the neural equivalent of a boxer hitting the canvas – a game-changing moment where ascendency or otherwise is established. And the bloody-annoying thing for the hijacked is that these moments are entirely self-induced. We deliver our knock-out blow to ourselves, simply because we could not keep our emotions in check.
An important book explaining the causes, and impact, of neural hijackings is Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman. Here’s him describing the hijacking process:
“It is in moments such as these – when impulsive feeling overrides the rational – that the newly discovered role for the amygdale [a part of the brain dealing with emotions] is pivotal. Incoming signals from the senses let the amygdale scan every experience for trouble. This puts the amygdale in a powerful post in mental life, something like the psychological sentinel, challenging every situation, every perception, with but one kind of question in mind, the most punitive: ‘Is this something I hate? That hurts me? Something I fear’. If so – if the moment at hand somehow draws a ‘yes’ – the amygdale reacts instantaneously, like neural tripwire, telegraphing a message of crisis to all parts of the brain.”
Goleman also describes the instant impact these hijackings have on the body. For instance, if our hijacking induces an anger response blood rushes to the hands ready for action. Meanwhile, the heart rate increases and there is a surge of adrenalin and other hormones (such as cortisol). With fear, blood rushes to the skeletal muscles such as the legs, the face blanches and the body momentarily freezes as it decides whether hiding may be a better option than running or fighting. The body is put on general alert, making the hijacked person edgy and unfocused on anything other than the threat or object of anger. Basically, the hijacked person’s rationality and reasoning is, at that moment, shot.
An important aspect here – that Billy will need to be aware of as much as most High-FFs – is that these hijackings are inevitable. Those that react emotionally when triggered are likely to do so for the rest of their lives. There is no instant cure or quick fix that can remove the neural hijacking as a feature for people more emotionally sensitised than others, meaning that we will always have to be on guard for Goleman’s tripwire – catching us when we least expect it and sending us careering down an intensely frustrating alleyway with respect to our dealings with others. What we have to develop – and what What’s Stopping You? devotes considerable effort in attempting to achieve – is a better second response that can, in time and with effort, suppress the external expression of the neural hijacking. And this can, hopefully, reduce in number the occasions we are defeated by our own overly-emotional responses to a hijack-inducing situation.
A final point here concerns the fact I have used someone else – in this case Billy Bragg – to demonstrate a neural hijacking. Given my earlier blog apologising for preaching (Forgive me sinner for I have preached) this may seem like another example where I have strayed into assumption regarding someone else’s thoughts and potential insecurities. I have, but my inspiration here is the fact Billy Bragg admitted to “becoming a little emotional” on the radio when I heard him speak at the British Library later that day. He was clearly embarrassed and seemingly determined not to repeat the error during the live debate with Luke sitting next to him. He didn’t, but I thought I could detect intense concentration in order to avoid being triggered (just my guess – I have no proof of this and I apologise now to Billy Bragg if any of this is wide of the mark).
Certainly, I am not suggesting Billy has high fear of failure, although – as I have written on many occasions – it is rather typical of a High-FF to desire a life of pop-stardom. What I am saying is that, by his own admission, he became emotional during an important debate on something he feels passionately about. And I am almost certain he regrets doing so not least because it destroyed his reasoning. But he had no choice, he was triggered. And if what followed was not the consequence of a neural hijacking, you can call me Shirley.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Prejudice exists – so don’t let it derail your progress
A reload of articles (I still like) from the old blog.
Of all the barriers that kill our progress as High-FFs (those with a high fear of failure) the assumption of prejudice against us is probably the most powerful. No other assumption so effectively changes our behaviour – destroying our confidence, making us overly-sensitive and defensive and leading us to behave in ways that can confirm the perceived prejudice against us.
Nearly all High-FFs have a version of this that plays out in stressful situations. These are often the very situations that can make the biggest difference to our lives – moments when we need to impress, such as networking events, interviews, presentations, even social gatherings outside of our usual demographic. Yet the anxieties that such a situation generates heighten our sensitivities to signals – positive or negative – about how we are being judged, or pre-judged. And that makes us overly-aware of being judged on who we are rather than what we say or contribute.
Race, gender, class, size, abilities, age, nationality, sexuality – even hair-colour and beauty – can influence the way we are immediately perceived by others, meaning we become assessed by those traits rather than by the “content of our character” to use Martin Luther King’s memorable phrase in his “I have a dream” speech. This can sometimes appear to work in our favour – perhaps when with people that would judge our particular traits kindly. But in nearly all cases any such judgement is in fact detrimental to our long-term progress, at least if we want our contribution to be taken seriously.
Of course in his speech King was describing some of the most acute prejudice of the twentieth century – the appalling and openly-sanctioned discrimination endured by African-Americans, particularly in the southern US states. And it is discrimination by race that perhaps sets the benchmark with respect to prejudice. To be an Africa-American – especially in that time and place – is to experience a depth of discrimination that must weigh heavily on the external responses of those on the receiving end. How could a young African-American boy, for instance, approach a situation involving his white peers with anything other than fear, distrust and defensiveness given the history of abuse and violence resulting from similar exchanges down the generations? The perception of prejudice, in this case, has a strong grounding in reality, making any changes in behaviour brought about by it as a natural and protective response.
Yet that is the point about our perceptions of prejudice – they are often based on a solid grounding, hence the fact the High-FF so profoundly changes his or her behaviour when confronted with it or even when they perceive they are being confronted with it. Prejudice is real. The instinct triggered is, therefore, one of self-protection, whether in the physical or intellectual sense. We feel we are being attacked for who we are, so we need to defend ourselves. And this can make us act in distinctly defensive, unfriendly or even aggressive ways that can alienate everyone around us, not just our oppressors.
My own version of this is based on perceived class prejudice, which is as deeply-ingrained in the UK as race is in the US (if somewhat more subtle). As a lower-middle class boy “educated” at an under-performing secondary-modern turned comprehensive in Essex, I found my accent and manners very different to most of my contemporaries at university. And while at university in the 1980s era of identity politics this was no bad thing – even something to accentuate – in the London media industry after university it led me to feel insecure despite being as well-qualified for the posts I applied for (and sometimes won) as anyone else.
Wide-eyed from what I saw as my strength – getting a good degree from a good university despite my poor secondary education – I stumbled into situations where I was patronised, at best, and openly dismissed and humiliated at worst: and this at institutions that held themselves up as bastions of liberal progression. Of course, this radically changed my behaviour. I lost confidence, quietened down and became defensive. And I guess I developed what privileged people like to call a “chip on my shoulder” (an appalling statement when examined closely because – having judged and abused you on the basis of your background – you are even stripped of any legitimate feelings of resentment).
Yet such “chippiness” is a disaster for our progress – especially as we can develop better responses when dealing with prejudice: ones that can mitigate the potential damage to our progress from real or perceived (and therefore self-fulfilling) prejudice.
A key need is to develop a self-awareness of the changes in our behaviour caused by our perceptions of prejudice against us. And this is where we may need professional help. For instance a crucial psychological basis for our change in behaviour brought about by perceived prejudice is the phenomenon known as “impostor syndrome” in which we feel we have no legitimate right to be in a certain group or place. And while much is written on the subject, two psychologists stand out – Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes.
Their 1978 paper The Impostor Phenomenon Among High Achieving Women was the first to describe professionals – in their case women – who have reached significant intellectual milestones in their careers but who fail to feel internally confident when among their peers, often due to feelings of being poorly judged by associates on the basis of their gender.
“They consider themselves to be ‘impostors’,” they write. “Despite numerous outstanding academic and professional accomplishments, women who experience impostor phenomenon [they shy away from calling it a syndrome] persist in believing that they are really not bright and have fooled anyone who thinks otherwise. Numerous achievements, which one might expect to provide ample objective evidence of superior intellectual functioning, do not appear to affect the impostor belief.”
Imposter phenomenon, or IP as the professionals call it, is therefore a self-fulfilling condition because our perceptions of prejudice cause us to develop poor self-judgements with respect to our suitability to be treated as an equal, which – in turn – leads to behaviour that may confirm such prejudice. And while IP was discovered in professional women – perhaps obviously given the dominance of men in so many professions (especially in the 1970s) – most psychologists now recognise it can impact anyone who communicates with apparent intellectual peers and yet feels insecure due to who they are, despite having earned their place through strong achievements.
So can High-FFs counteract the impact of IP and other behavioural changes brought about by perceptions of prejudice – especially if, as stated, prejudice is ingrained in our society? In my opinion, yes. Here are 10 steps that can prevent us from being derailed by prejudice in social or inter-active settings.
1) While the wider fight against prejudice is both legitimate and to be applauded it belongs in what Stephen Covey in the Seven Habit of Highly Effective People calls our “circle of concern” rather than our “circle of influence”. This means that, while it obviously impacts our progress, it is beyond our control. High-FFs must operate within their “circle of influence” – changing what can be changed and ignoring what can’t. Remember this.
2) We must also remember Eleanor Roosevelt’s famous quote: “no one can make you feel inferior without your consent”. Of course, this is easy to say but less easy to feel. But we should nonetheless say it.
3) Prior to any inter-action that may generate prejudice against us we should first calculate what we want from the situation. What is our objective here? Then focus purely on achieving that objective. Every conversation should have this at the forefront of our mind rather than any desperate calculation regarding how we are being received. This puts us on the front foot, regardless of who we are talking to.
4) Indeed, we should judge any situation against our long term objectives. Are these being advanced, in whatever sense? And if we have no long-term objectives: develop some.
5) Dress conservatively. If you are trying to be provocative – fine. But it’s then a tad unfair to blame people for pre-judging you on your appearances. My advice is to signal your desire to fit in by dressing within the norms of the situation.
6) Prepare an opening line or two about who you are. This should be a positive but not boastful description that states firmly your legitimacy, although is not defensive. In the UK at least, err on the side of modesty, although beware over-doing self-deprecation: given the prejudice it may be taken literally.
7) Smile. Look happy, even if you feel far from happy. Even if you are nervous as hell and are hating every minute. Fake it. Sporting a scowl will confirm their worst prejudices about you, while seeing a smiling face will make everyone assume you are “happy in your skin” and that you are worth knowing. Being funny is even better – but, again, don’t go overboard, especially in a formal setting such as an interview. Your aim is to be taken seriously, don’t forget, so providing wit and amusement is preferred to playing the clown.
8) Put people at their ease. There is just a chance that the person you feel is being prejudiced against you is simply nervous of talking to someone “different” to them. They may feel they have nothing to say that could be of interest to you, so take the initiative and be interested in them – relaxing them by getting the conversation on their ground. Could it be that their own insecurities are making them appear offish? There’s no harm in assuming so.
9) Prejudice can feel isolating (that is part of its intention) but anyone perceiving prejudice is unlikely to be alone. Seek out others that may be feeling the same way, but don’t seek to recruit them. Expressing relief at finding someone “normal” is as far as you should go – and even then only after a strong bond is established from neutral conversation.
10) We must develop a kinder outlook for those that may have a prejudice against us. All prejudice is ignorance after all, and they will have their own pressures and hierarchies to be concerned about. In fact, it may be their lowly self-perceptions that underpin their prejudices – i.e. they feel threatened.
Of all the barriers that kill our progress as High-FFs (those with a high fear of failure) the assumption of prejudice against us is probably the most powerful. No other assumption so effectively changes our behaviour – destroying our confidence, making us overly-sensitive and defensive and leading us to behave in ways that can confirm the perceived prejudice against us.
Nearly all High-FFs have a version of this that plays out in stressful situations. These are often the very situations that can make the biggest difference to our lives – moments when we need to impress, such as networking events, interviews, presentations, even social gatherings outside of our usual demographic. Yet the anxieties that such a situation generates heighten our sensitivities to signals – positive or negative – about how we are being judged, or pre-judged. And that makes us overly-aware of being judged on who we are rather than what we say or contribute.
Race, gender, class, size, abilities, age, nationality, sexuality – even hair-colour and beauty – can influence the way we are immediately perceived by others, meaning we become assessed by those traits rather than by the “content of our character” to use Martin Luther King’s memorable phrase in his “I have a dream” speech. This can sometimes appear to work in our favour – perhaps when with people that would judge our particular traits kindly. But in nearly all cases any such judgement is in fact detrimental to our long-term progress, at least if we want our contribution to be taken seriously.
Of course in his speech King was describing some of the most acute prejudice of the twentieth century – the appalling and openly-sanctioned discrimination endured by African-Americans, particularly in the southern US states. And it is discrimination by race that perhaps sets the benchmark with respect to prejudice. To be an Africa-American – especially in that time and place – is to experience a depth of discrimination that must weigh heavily on the external responses of those on the receiving end. How could a young African-American boy, for instance, approach a situation involving his white peers with anything other than fear, distrust and defensiveness given the history of abuse and violence resulting from similar exchanges down the generations? The perception of prejudice, in this case, has a strong grounding in reality, making any changes in behaviour brought about by it as a natural and protective response.
Yet that is the point about our perceptions of prejudice – they are often based on a solid grounding, hence the fact the High-FF so profoundly changes his or her behaviour when confronted with it or even when they perceive they are being confronted with it. Prejudice is real. The instinct triggered is, therefore, one of self-protection, whether in the physical or intellectual sense. We feel we are being attacked for who we are, so we need to defend ourselves. And this can make us act in distinctly defensive, unfriendly or even aggressive ways that can alienate everyone around us, not just our oppressors.
My own version of this is based on perceived class prejudice, which is as deeply-ingrained in the UK as race is in the US (if somewhat more subtle). As a lower-middle class boy “educated” at an under-performing secondary-modern turned comprehensive in Essex, I found my accent and manners very different to most of my contemporaries at university. And while at university in the 1980s era of identity politics this was no bad thing – even something to accentuate – in the London media industry after university it led me to feel insecure despite being as well-qualified for the posts I applied for (and sometimes won) as anyone else.
Wide-eyed from what I saw as my strength – getting a good degree from a good university despite my poor secondary education – I stumbled into situations where I was patronised, at best, and openly dismissed and humiliated at worst: and this at institutions that held themselves up as bastions of liberal progression. Of course, this radically changed my behaviour. I lost confidence, quietened down and became defensive. And I guess I developed what privileged people like to call a “chip on my shoulder” (an appalling statement when examined closely because – having judged and abused you on the basis of your background – you are even stripped of any legitimate feelings of resentment).
Yet such “chippiness” is a disaster for our progress – especially as we can develop better responses when dealing with prejudice: ones that can mitigate the potential damage to our progress from real or perceived (and therefore self-fulfilling) prejudice.
A key need is to develop a self-awareness of the changes in our behaviour caused by our perceptions of prejudice against us. And this is where we may need professional help. For instance a crucial psychological basis for our change in behaviour brought about by perceived prejudice is the phenomenon known as “impostor syndrome” in which we feel we have no legitimate right to be in a certain group or place. And while much is written on the subject, two psychologists stand out – Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes.
Their 1978 paper The Impostor Phenomenon Among High Achieving Women was the first to describe professionals – in their case women – who have reached significant intellectual milestones in their careers but who fail to feel internally confident when among their peers, often due to feelings of being poorly judged by associates on the basis of their gender.
“They consider themselves to be ‘impostors’,” they write. “Despite numerous outstanding academic and professional accomplishments, women who experience impostor phenomenon [they shy away from calling it a syndrome] persist in believing that they are really not bright and have fooled anyone who thinks otherwise. Numerous achievements, which one might expect to provide ample objective evidence of superior intellectual functioning, do not appear to affect the impostor belief.”
Imposter phenomenon, or IP as the professionals call it, is therefore a self-fulfilling condition because our perceptions of prejudice cause us to develop poor self-judgements with respect to our suitability to be treated as an equal, which – in turn – leads to behaviour that may confirm such prejudice. And while IP was discovered in professional women – perhaps obviously given the dominance of men in so many professions (especially in the 1970s) – most psychologists now recognise it can impact anyone who communicates with apparent intellectual peers and yet feels insecure due to who they are, despite having earned their place through strong achievements.
So can High-FFs counteract the impact of IP and other behavioural changes brought about by perceptions of prejudice – especially if, as stated, prejudice is ingrained in our society? In my opinion, yes. Here are 10 steps that can prevent us from being derailed by prejudice in social or inter-active settings.
1) While the wider fight against prejudice is both legitimate and to be applauded it belongs in what Stephen Covey in the Seven Habit of Highly Effective People calls our “circle of concern” rather than our “circle of influence”. This means that, while it obviously impacts our progress, it is beyond our control. High-FFs must operate within their “circle of influence” – changing what can be changed and ignoring what can’t. Remember this.
2) We must also remember Eleanor Roosevelt’s famous quote: “no one can make you feel inferior without your consent”. Of course, this is easy to say but less easy to feel. But we should nonetheless say it.
3) Prior to any inter-action that may generate prejudice against us we should first calculate what we want from the situation. What is our objective here? Then focus purely on achieving that objective. Every conversation should have this at the forefront of our mind rather than any desperate calculation regarding how we are being received. This puts us on the front foot, regardless of who we are talking to.
4) Indeed, we should judge any situation against our long term objectives. Are these being advanced, in whatever sense? And if we have no long-term objectives: develop some.
5) Dress conservatively. If you are trying to be provocative – fine. But it’s then a tad unfair to blame people for pre-judging you on your appearances. My advice is to signal your desire to fit in by dressing within the norms of the situation.
6) Prepare an opening line or two about who you are. This should be a positive but not boastful description that states firmly your legitimacy, although is not defensive. In the UK at least, err on the side of modesty, although beware over-doing self-deprecation: given the prejudice it may be taken literally.
7) Smile. Look happy, even if you feel far from happy. Even if you are nervous as hell and are hating every minute. Fake it. Sporting a scowl will confirm their worst prejudices about you, while seeing a smiling face will make everyone assume you are “happy in your skin” and that you are worth knowing. Being funny is even better – but, again, don’t go overboard, especially in a formal setting such as an interview. Your aim is to be taken seriously, don’t forget, so providing wit and amusement is preferred to playing the clown.
8) Put people at their ease. There is just a chance that the person you feel is being prejudiced against you is simply nervous of talking to someone “different” to them. They may feel they have nothing to say that could be of interest to you, so take the initiative and be interested in them – relaxing them by getting the conversation on their ground. Could it be that their own insecurities are making them appear offish? There’s no harm in assuming so.
9) Prejudice can feel isolating (that is part of its intention) but anyone perceiving prejudice is unlikely to be alone. Seek out others that may be feeling the same way, but don’t seek to recruit them. Expressing relief at finding someone “normal” is as far as you should go – and even then only after a strong bond is established from neutral conversation.
10) We must develop a kinder outlook for those that may have a prejudice against us. All prejudice is ignorance after all, and they will have their own pressures and hierarchies to be concerned about. In fact, it may be their lowly self-perceptions that underpin their prejudices – i.e. they feel threatened.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Motivation needs purpose, but don’t forget fear
Dan Pink is the author of Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us. If you want to know the answer to this, however, a quicker route than reading the book is to watch this highly-engaging YouTube animation (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u6XAPnuFjJc) from the UK’s Royal Society or Arts (and tagged by Leigh Carrick Moore – thank you!).
In the animation Dan Pink explains that higher incentives do not always lead to better performance. In experiments conducted by the MIT and funded by the Federal Reserve Bank it was discovered that, while non-cognitive (i.e. manual) tasks can be incentivised in a traditional way – meaning that more money equals better performance – cognitive tasks that require thought and creativity can’t, at least at the top. For cognitive tasks, it seems, once people are being paid “enough” paying them more does not lead to more in terms of output or performance.
What explains this? In the animation (and I assume in the book) Pink projects that we are dealing with a concept similar to Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, in which material gain is not the key driver to human motivation, it is simply a means to an ends. Once people are comfortable, concepts such as creativity and morality become more important than mere zeroes added to the bottom line. Pink explained this by stating that our motivations are driven by autonomy (we want to direct our own lives), mastery (we have an urge to get better at stuff) and purpose (we want to make a contribution).
And, in case people concluded that this was fine for rich countries like America that can be seen as having more than enough and so would graduate into the sunlit uplands of morality and “purpose”, they also conducted the same experiments in India, with even more startling results. While low and middling incentives did, indeed, improve performance large incentives had the opposite impact, causing a major reversal in performance.
This is, of course, fantastically revelatory. But is it true? I have not read the book but throughout the animation I was expecting a different conclusion, or at least another factor to be taken into account: fear. I was expecting Pink to at least mention fear of failure, which must surely be an alternative reason why incentives failed to improve performance once the stakes are raised above a certain point and, as with the case in India (where higher incentives will have an even higher impact) actually had a detrimental effect on performance.
In fact the experiments were not dissimilar to those carried out by John W. Atkinson of Stanford University, David McClelland and others in the 1960s. Also focused on motivation, they set children reward-incentivised tasks and noticed that they approached them in one of two ways – either motivated to achieve the task (i.e. to succeed) or motivated to avoid failing the task (mostly through avoidance of undertaking the task). Atkinson concluded that those motivated to avoid the tasks had a high fear of failure. They were concerned by the prospect of public failure and, where they could, avoided even intermediately difficult tasks because of it.
Is there resonance with MIT’s experiments on incentives, as explained by Pink and animated by the RSA? Yes, I believe there is. The rewards on offer at the low end are enough to focus the mind on the task and its achievement. Yet at the high end the rewards change behaviour. In India particularly, these may be life changing rewards, making the outcome of the task a much larger focus than the task itself. Just ask any sportsman suffering from “choke” or Poker player suffering from “tilt” – both behavioural changes based on fear – and it is easy to see how high-end rewards can detrimentally-impact performance. The stakes have been raised to the point where we can no longer ignore them in order to focus on the task ahead, making our efforts edgy and fearful.
I am not stating that the MIT experiments came to the wrong conclusion and Dan Pink’s book may well take fear of failure into account (as may the MIT). My only opinion on this is that, once you are in tune with the concept of fear of failure (which my Reticular Activating System clearly is thanks to my forthcoming book What’s Stopping You?), you can’t help looking at the experiments in a different light and potentially coming to a different conclusion.
In the animation Dan Pink explains that higher incentives do not always lead to better performance. In experiments conducted by the MIT and funded by the Federal Reserve Bank it was discovered that, while non-cognitive (i.e. manual) tasks can be incentivised in a traditional way – meaning that more money equals better performance – cognitive tasks that require thought and creativity can’t, at least at the top. For cognitive tasks, it seems, once people are being paid “enough” paying them more does not lead to more in terms of output or performance.
What explains this? In the animation (and I assume in the book) Pink projects that we are dealing with a concept similar to Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, in which material gain is not the key driver to human motivation, it is simply a means to an ends. Once people are comfortable, concepts such as creativity and morality become more important than mere zeroes added to the bottom line. Pink explained this by stating that our motivations are driven by autonomy (we want to direct our own lives), mastery (we have an urge to get better at stuff) and purpose (we want to make a contribution).
And, in case people concluded that this was fine for rich countries like America that can be seen as having more than enough and so would graduate into the sunlit uplands of morality and “purpose”, they also conducted the same experiments in India, with even more startling results. While low and middling incentives did, indeed, improve performance large incentives had the opposite impact, causing a major reversal in performance.
This is, of course, fantastically revelatory. But is it true? I have not read the book but throughout the animation I was expecting a different conclusion, or at least another factor to be taken into account: fear. I was expecting Pink to at least mention fear of failure, which must surely be an alternative reason why incentives failed to improve performance once the stakes are raised above a certain point and, as with the case in India (where higher incentives will have an even higher impact) actually had a detrimental effect on performance.
In fact the experiments were not dissimilar to those carried out by John W. Atkinson of Stanford University, David McClelland and others in the 1960s. Also focused on motivation, they set children reward-incentivised tasks and noticed that they approached them in one of two ways – either motivated to achieve the task (i.e. to succeed) or motivated to avoid failing the task (mostly through avoidance of undertaking the task). Atkinson concluded that those motivated to avoid the tasks had a high fear of failure. They were concerned by the prospect of public failure and, where they could, avoided even intermediately difficult tasks because of it.
Is there resonance with MIT’s experiments on incentives, as explained by Pink and animated by the RSA? Yes, I believe there is. The rewards on offer at the low end are enough to focus the mind on the task and its achievement. Yet at the high end the rewards change behaviour. In India particularly, these may be life changing rewards, making the outcome of the task a much larger focus than the task itself. Just ask any sportsman suffering from “choke” or Poker player suffering from “tilt” – both behavioural changes based on fear – and it is easy to see how high-end rewards can detrimentally-impact performance. The stakes have been raised to the point where we can no longer ignore them in order to focus on the task ahead, making our efforts edgy and fearful.
I am not stating that the MIT experiments came to the wrong conclusion and Dan Pink’s book may well take fear of failure into account (as may the MIT). My only opinion on this is that, once you are in tune with the concept of fear of failure (which my Reticular Activating System clearly is thanks to my forthcoming book What’s Stopping You?), you can’t help looking at the experiments in a different light and potentially coming to a different conclusion.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Are you a pessimist? Perhaps your football team is to blame
West Ham United finds itself bottom of the Premier League again, which is perhaps no more than to be expected given the Kelsey Effect I mentioned in the earlier blog on luck. Of course, in that blog I dismissed the Kelsey Effect, or any other series of misfortunes that are banded together to create a sense of luck or (more likely) otherwise as no more than our reticular activating system (RAS) – the part of the brain responsible for arousal. Assume bad luck and our RAS will find examples of it everywhere – reaching as far as the performance of our favourite football team if necessary. Assume good luck and the plight of West Ham will be ignored unless, of course, they find themselves at the top of the league table and can thus be recruited as confirmation (admittedly, this is unlikely).
So do we make choices regarding such things as which football team to follow based on our view of the world? Certainly it can appear so. Most followers of West Ham I know all seem to have a pessimistic outlook. And West Ham fans are hardly alone in this respect. What about Manchester City fans – one even calling his Fever Pitch style fan-biography Manchester United Ruined my Life suggesting that, had he chosen the other “Manchester” team, his life would have been far from ruined? And then there are the Evertonians. Like City fans they have seen many false dawns regarding their club’s attempts to match the status of their near and more famous neighbours.
West Ham, City and Everton all have the distinction of being the smaller teams in cities containing some of the world’s most famous footballing brands (fans of Espanyol, Atlético, Torino and 1860 can no doubt sympathise). So why choose to support them? In modern cities geography or logistics can hardly be a major factor. And as Simon Kuper contends in his excellent book Why England Lose (an Undercover Economist for football fans called Soccernomics outside of the UK) football operates in a free market, meaning that we are free to choose our colours. Surely then, we choose teams that – in some way or other – reflect our personalities, hence my pessimistic choice of the only London team with 30,000-plus attendances that finds itself regularly fighting, and sometimes losing, relegation battles?
Of course, the above is no more than a writer’s Aunt Sally, to be knocked down by the obvious contention that it is the other way around. Most genuine football fans (those that take their passion beyond the playground or office) are not free to choose at all. Usually, family ties weigh heavily – as they did with me when my earlier attempts to support the Tottenham Hotspur of Martin Chivers and Pat Jennings were, to put it mildly, discouraged. So, if our team does reflect our personality, it must therefore not be based on our “choice” of football-team but on the impact that football team’s performance has on our young minds.
This is not a frivolous point. For instance, my five-year old’s reaction to England’s humiliating exit from the World Cup was little short of traumatic. He’d become excited by the sense of festival surrounding the tournament and, despite my warnings, saw Wayne Rooney and the like as unconquerable heroes along Ben 10 or Transformer lines. To see them soundly beaten rocked his world and, I have no doubt, made a negative impression on him that will take time to forget.
And the science backs this up. In Emotional Intelligence, Daniel Goleman states that such high-drama moments can cause the amygdale – which Goleman describes as the key component of the limbic system in the brain dealing with anxiety, distress and fear – to signal other brain regions to strengthen their memory of the incident. This creates a bigger imprint within the memory, which generates a new neural “setpoint” in the brain – potentially causing a lifelong resetting of our emotional responses to even tangentially-similar situations. And while I’m not dismissing the notion that, as incidents of stress go, this is a mild one, it can nonetheless have an impact – especially if the setpoint is triggered on a near-weekly basis between August and May.
Football teams are important to most young boys in the UK as well as many young girls. And one constantly beaten by its rivals – especially near rivals supported by peers, therefore engendering playground taunting – is unlikely to encourage a sense of optimism at a crucial stage in that child’s mental development. No ardent fan (and there is no other way to describe the depth of enthusiasm experienced at that age) can remain immune to the impact of so many defeats on their overall psyche.
So is the answer to encourage them towards the more successful rival team? While many dads would rather burn in hell – and I realise the risk I’m taking here in stating this – that’s exactly what I’m encouraging with my sons. They go to school in Islington where the obvious choice is Arsenal – a team with a much happier outlook (Chelsea and Tottenham being beyond the pale for a Hammers fan). Yet my wife disagrees with this course: not because she is a West Ham fan (she isn’t) or because she wants them to follow more aspirational sports (such as rugby) or even no sport (though she fancies one of them as a chorister). She disagrees with this because she thinks pessimism is an innate condition in football fandom, as is optimism. As far as my wife is concerned, it is realism that football fans lack.
This is well observed in my opinion. Fans have little or no concept of relativity. They tend to bank any advance and then look further upwards, complaining bitterly of a “lack of ambition” when clubs “stagnate” in mid-table or even slip back a few places. No sooner has a small club – for example Fulham – found its way into the higher divisions than its fans want more: silverware, European competition, Champions League etc etc. Fans adjust their pessimist/optimist thermostat accordingly, converting anything other than continual glory into a crisis – usually heaped upon players, managers and even the owners who may justifiably feel they have got a particular club to out-perform its potential.
As in football, so in life. Humans bank their advances and continue to look upwards. The concept of relativity means nothing – making glory no more than an ephemeral gain. And this is especially true for those with a high fear of failure. High-FFs (as I call those with high fear of failure in my forthcoming book: What’s Stopping You?) are prone to dismiss their progress – meaning their current status, potentially gained through years of hard work and study, means nothing because the ladder stretches above them and, as we are only looking up, results in the same frustrating feelings of under achievement we felt when lower down.
And while such frustrations seem inevitable, they can weigh-down and even destroy the well-being of the High-FF. “Someday” is the goal of the permanently unhappy, says Anthony Robbins, who suggests, no matter where we are on the ladder, we appreciate our advantages and accomplishments. Certainly I would agree with this. Any step forward must be appreciated as a step in the right direction. As something to build upon. Dismiss our accomplishments – no matter how small – as nothing and that’s what they’ll become.
This even works in football. West Ham has survived the rigours of the premiership that have done for “larger clubs” such as Forest, Wednesday and Leeds. The club has expanded its ground and has even come through their own bubble/crunch in the form of a brief but crazy flirtation with the excesses of Icelandic ownership. Even if they go down, they remain a top flight club – with the most pessimistic of supporters confident of a quick if not instant return.
Given this, perhaps my boys can follow the Hammers after all – it’ll teach them how to keep going despite the setbacks.
So do we make choices regarding such things as which football team to follow based on our view of the world? Certainly it can appear so. Most followers of West Ham I know all seem to have a pessimistic outlook. And West Ham fans are hardly alone in this respect. What about Manchester City fans – one even calling his Fever Pitch style fan-biography Manchester United Ruined my Life suggesting that, had he chosen the other “Manchester” team, his life would have been far from ruined? And then there are the Evertonians. Like City fans they have seen many false dawns regarding their club’s attempts to match the status of their near and more famous neighbours.
West Ham, City and Everton all have the distinction of being the smaller teams in cities containing some of the world’s most famous footballing brands (fans of Espanyol, Atlético, Torino and 1860 can no doubt sympathise). So why choose to support them? In modern cities geography or logistics can hardly be a major factor. And as Simon Kuper contends in his excellent book Why England Lose (an Undercover Economist for football fans called Soccernomics outside of the UK) football operates in a free market, meaning that we are free to choose our colours. Surely then, we choose teams that – in some way or other – reflect our personalities, hence my pessimistic choice of the only London team with 30,000-plus attendances that finds itself regularly fighting, and sometimes losing, relegation battles?
Of course, the above is no more than a writer’s Aunt Sally, to be knocked down by the obvious contention that it is the other way around. Most genuine football fans (those that take their passion beyond the playground or office) are not free to choose at all. Usually, family ties weigh heavily – as they did with me when my earlier attempts to support the Tottenham Hotspur of Martin Chivers and Pat Jennings were, to put it mildly, discouraged. So, if our team does reflect our personality, it must therefore not be based on our “choice” of football-team but on the impact that football team’s performance has on our young minds.
This is not a frivolous point. For instance, my five-year old’s reaction to England’s humiliating exit from the World Cup was little short of traumatic. He’d become excited by the sense of festival surrounding the tournament and, despite my warnings, saw Wayne Rooney and the like as unconquerable heroes along Ben 10 or Transformer lines. To see them soundly beaten rocked his world and, I have no doubt, made a negative impression on him that will take time to forget.
And the science backs this up. In Emotional Intelligence, Daniel Goleman states that such high-drama moments can cause the amygdale – which Goleman describes as the key component of the limbic system in the brain dealing with anxiety, distress and fear – to signal other brain regions to strengthen their memory of the incident. This creates a bigger imprint within the memory, which generates a new neural “setpoint” in the brain – potentially causing a lifelong resetting of our emotional responses to even tangentially-similar situations. And while I’m not dismissing the notion that, as incidents of stress go, this is a mild one, it can nonetheless have an impact – especially if the setpoint is triggered on a near-weekly basis between August and May.
Football teams are important to most young boys in the UK as well as many young girls. And one constantly beaten by its rivals – especially near rivals supported by peers, therefore engendering playground taunting – is unlikely to encourage a sense of optimism at a crucial stage in that child’s mental development. No ardent fan (and there is no other way to describe the depth of enthusiasm experienced at that age) can remain immune to the impact of so many defeats on their overall psyche.
So is the answer to encourage them towards the more successful rival team? While many dads would rather burn in hell – and I realise the risk I’m taking here in stating this – that’s exactly what I’m encouraging with my sons. They go to school in Islington where the obvious choice is Arsenal – a team with a much happier outlook (Chelsea and Tottenham being beyond the pale for a Hammers fan). Yet my wife disagrees with this course: not because she is a West Ham fan (she isn’t) or because she wants them to follow more aspirational sports (such as rugby) or even no sport (though she fancies one of them as a chorister). She disagrees with this because she thinks pessimism is an innate condition in football fandom, as is optimism. As far as my wife is concerned, it is realism that football fans lack.
This is well observed in my opinion. Fans have little or no concept of relativity. They tend to bank any advance and then look further upwards, complaining bitterly of a “lack of ambition” when clubs “stagnate” in mid-table or even slip back a few places. No sooner has a small club – for example Fulham – found its way into the higher divisions than its fans want more: silverware, European competition, Champions League etc etc. Fans adjust their pessimist/optimist thermostat accordingly, converting anything other than continual glory into a crisis – usually heaped upon players, managers and even the owners who may justifiably feel they have got a particular club to out-perform its potential.
As in football, so in life. Humans bank their advances and continue to look upwards. The concept of relativity means nothing – making glory no more than an ephemeral gain. And this is especially true for those with a high fear of failure. High-FFs (as I call those with high fear of failure in my forthcoming book: What’s Stopping You?) are prone to dismiss their progress – meaning their current status, potentially gained through years of hard work and study, means nothing because the ladder stretches above them and, as we are only looking up, results in the same frustrating feelings of under achievement we felt when lower down.
And while such frustrations seem inevitable, they can weigh-down and even destroy the well-being of the High-FF. “Someday” is the goal of the permanently unhappy, says Anthony Robbins, who suggests, no matter where we are on the ladder, we appreciate our advantages and accomplishments. Certainly I would agree with this. Any step forward must be appreciated as a step in the right direction. As something to build upon. Dismiss our accomplishments – no matter how small – as nothing and that’s what they’ll become.
This even works in football. West Ham has survived the rigours of the premiership that have done for “larger clubs” such as Forest, Wednesday and Leeds. The club has expanded its ground and has even come through their own bubble/crunch in the form of a brief but crazy flirtation with the excesses of Icelandic ownership. Even if they go down, they remain a top flight club – with the most pessimistic of supporters confident of a quick if not instant return.
Given this, perhaps my boys can follow the Hammers after all – it’ll teach them how to keep going despite the setbacks.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Whether trying to get in, stay in, or get on, adopting group norms is key
Everyone has their uniforms. It says who we are – allowing people to make instant judgements about us, as well as absorb the messages we are trying to express. I thought this while observing someone with Gordon Gekko-style slicked-back hair and a pin-striped suit in a coffee shop in the banking district of Frankfurt. I was early for a meeting and had time to kill. Meanwhile he was making contact with a colleague, a counterpart or a rival (or potentially all three), although was also finding his Blackberry an irresistible distraction.
My instant reaction was questioning. Why would anyone want to look so comically like a trading-floor hard nut (imagine Ray Winstone with too much Brylcreem)? After all, this was the image the BBC and other City-detractors love to portray, so why play up to it? I could just tell he was wearing red braces under his pin-stripes and he no doubt stood up while shouting down the phone – gesticulating wildly around the room to boot.
Yet in reality his haircut and dress-sense were simply short-cuts to the man. This was the image he consciously wanted to project, and he clearly saw it in his advantage to do so. It told the world that he was good at his job, that he understood his field, was integral to it in fact, that he was committed, that he was the real deal, and that – given the nature of his work – he was not to be messed with. Who knows, he may have assumed it attractive to the opposite sex (perhaps reasoning that the messages of success it gave were at least as attractive as the look itself).
Of course there are two other ways of looking at his dress sense. That he wasn’t part of this world and wanted to be. Or that he felt insecure within it and needed visual aids to mask this insecurity.
Both of these possibilities are likely to be harshly judged by outsiders, yet both have their merits. John Timperley , in Network Your Way to Success offers strong tips for developing great “rapport” with the industry insiders we want to impress (for jobs, promotions, deals, introductions). While some of them are obvious – like, smiling, agreeing, listening etc – some are less so, of which one is “dress to impress”. Here he implores us to adopt “group norms” with respect to how we look, which in the modern career world – for men at least – usually involves a dark suit, a sober shirt and tie and a hair-cut that says I’m ready for business rather than ready for the rock-concert at the weekend. So, who knows, our man may have been Head of Stationery but was keen to move on, his extreme look a heightened call for action in this respect. Indeed, many self-help gurus advise us to "fake it til we make it" - most notably Steve Chandler in 100 Ways to Motivate Yourself.
And such extreme adoption of group norms can go beyond the world of work. A vivid memory of my youth is the sight of two of my home town’s toughest kids turning up at a disco for mods (this was at the peak of the early-1980s mod revival) dressed in suits and long-green parkas. They’d cut their hair and even bought the scooters, such was the strength of their signal: “we want to join your gang”. And just to make sure the other mods knew they meant it, they terrorised the local “head-bangers” (mostly sixth-formers with a liking for Pink Floyd) for the next six months. Certainly, they knew that adopting group norms was the key to entry, and they executed their adoption with relish.
But what of the insecurity that may have also driven our banker to adopt his potentially-paradoxical uniform? Certainly, “imposter phenomenon” is a very real issue in the workplace. Originally discovered in women by two psychologists Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes it is now recognised that anyone that feels themselves to be an outsider (for whatever reason: class, age, education, region of origin, race or sexuality being the most obvious examples) can suffer from IP (they shy away from calling it a “syndrome”), despite having no less right to be there than anyone else. And while one reaction may be to hide – to become the wallpaper in the room – such a tactic is a quick route to failure on a trading floor. In such a tough environment, maybe a better solution is to adopt a mask – one that will not only hide our insecurities, but may well project the opposite. In this respect, what could be better than the most parodied version of “group norm” available?
My instant reaction was questioning. Why would anyone want to look so comically like a trading-floor hard nut (imagine Ray Winstone with too much Brylcreem)? After all, this was the image the BBC and other City-detractors love to portray, so why play up to it? I could just tell he was wearing red braces under his pin-stripes and he no doubt stood up while shouting down the phone – gesticulating wildly around the room to boot.
Yet in reality his haircut and dress-sense were simply short-cuts to the man. This was the image he consciously wanted to project, and he clearly saw it in his advantage to do so. It told the world that he was good at his job, that he understood his field, was integral to it in fact, that he was committed, that he was the real deal, and that – given the nature of his work – he was not to be messed with. Who knows, he may have assumed it attractive to the opposite sex (perhaps reasoning that the messages of success it gave were at least as attractive as the look itself).
Of course there are two other ways of looking at his dress sense. That he wasn’t part of this world and wanted to be. Or that he felt insecure within it and needed visual aids to mask this insecurity.
Both of these possibilities are likely to be harshly judged by outsiders, yet both have their merits. John Timperley , in Network Your Way to Success offers strong tips for developing great “rapport” with the industry insiders we want to impress (for jobs, promotions, deals, introductions). While some of them are obvious – like, smiling, agreeing, listening etc – some are less so, of which one is “dress to impress”. Here he implores us to adopt “group norms” with respect to how we look, which in the modern career world – for men at least – usually involves a dark suit, a sober shirt and tie and a hair-cut that says I’m ready for business rather than ready for the rock-concert at the weekend. So, who knows, our man may have been Head of Stationery but was keen to move on, his extreme look a heightened call for action in this respect. Indeed, many self-help gurus advise us to "fake it til we make it" - most notably Steve Chandler in 100 Ways to Motivate Yourself.
And such extreme adoption of group norms can go beyond the world of work. A vivid memory of my youth is the sight of two of my home town’s toughest kids turning up at a disco for mods (this was at the peak of the early-1980s mod revival) dressed in suits and long-green parkas. They’d cut their hair and even bought the scooters, such was the strength of their signal: “we want to join your gang”. And just to make sure the other mods knew they meant it, they terrorised the local “head-bangers” (mostly sixth-formers with a liking for Pink Floyd) for the next six months. Certainly, they knew that adopting group norms was the key to entry, and they executed their adoption with relish.
But what of the insecurity that may have also driven our banker to adopt his potentially-paradoxical uniform? Certainly, “imposter phenomenon” is a very real issue in the workplace. Originally discovered in women by two psychologists Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes it is now recognised that anyone that feels themselves to be an outsider (for whatever reason: class, age, education, region of origin, race or sexuality being the most obvious examples) can suffer from IP (they shy away from calling it a “syndrome”), despite having no less right to be there than anyone else. And while one reaction may be to hide – to become the wallpaper in the room – such a tactic is a quick route to failure on a trading floor. In such a tough environment, maybe a better solution is to adopt a mask – one that will not only hide our insecurities, but may well project the opposite. In this respect, what could be better than the most parodied version of “group norm” available?
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