Seth Godin's Blog, page 142

Variations on stupid

We throw the word stupid around a lot, labeling people (perhaps forever). In fact, there are tons of ways to be stupid, and we ought to think about that before we shut someone (including ourselves) down... Stupid is something we do, not the way we are.

Bad analysis is the classic sort of stupid. This is not the stupid of, "if you knew then what you know now," but the simpler question: "Given what was clear at the time, why did you make such a bad decision?"

Willfully ignorant is the stupidity of not seeking out the information that would have been worth knowing before you spoke up, made a decision or pulled the trigger.

Lack of cultural understanding is often mistaken for stupid. This is what happens when we put our foot in our mouth. Often, it seems particularly stupid when we're willfully ignorant about something we should have known.

Inability to read people isn't a form of stupidity, but it can often look like it. Some people are just unable to do this, but mostly it's a lack of effort and empathy that leads us to not see people in a way others think we should.

Distracted is the best excuse for making a stupid call. After all, when the stupidity happens, it's probably because we didn't think the decision was important, and with all the incoming. Okay, it's not a good excuse, but it's a common one.

Self-destructive is a particularly widespread form of stupidity among people who have privilege and opportunity that they're not sure they deserve.

Emotionally overwrought stupidity happens because we're tempted to amplify and maintain the drama going on in our heads, which distracts us from seeing or processing what we see.

Fear, of course, is at the heart of a lot of our bad judgment. 

Unwilling to be right is a form of fear. If you do stupid things, you don't have to take advantage of the change that would have happened if you had been right.

Slow is not stupid, not at all. It's just not going to win you many prizes on a game show.

Short-term selfish behavior is what we see all the time from people who should know better. And yet they come back to this trap again and again, because it's a habit. Day trading, anyone?

Rush to judgment is a particularly challenging variation. Our unwillingness to sit with ambiguity causes us to decide before we should.

Stupidity doesn't have to be incurable.

            

Idiosyncratic

So, which is more interesting: A vintage 1964 Porsche or a new Honda Civic?

Which is a better car?

If we think hard about the definition of 'better', it's pretty clear that on almost every measurable performance metric, the Honda is a far better car. More reliable. A better value. Able to drive faster, longer, in more conditions. Better mileage. Safer. And on and on.

So why do people pay more, talk more, gawk more at the other car?

Scarcity isn't the only reason. It turns out that perfection is sort of boring.

Airbnb isn't as 'perfect' as staying at the Hyatt (more variability, more ups and some downs) but it's certainly more interesting...

When a product or service benchmarks quality and can honestly say, "we're reliably boring," it might grow in sales, but it will eventually fade in interest, because the people at the edges, the people who care, are drawn to idiosyncrasy, to the unpredictable, the tweakable, the things that might not work.

            

Should we pander?

In a race to go faster, cheaper and wider, it's tempting to strip away elegance, ornamentation or subtlety. If you want to reach more people, aim for average.

The market, given a choice, often picks something that's short-term, shoddy, inane, obvious, cheap, a quick thrill. Given the choice, the market almost never votes for the building, the monument or the civic development it ends up being so proud of a generation later. Think about it: the best way to write an instant bestseller is to aim low.

The race to popular belies the fact that our beloved classics were yesterday's elitist/obscure follies.

Bob Dylan, Star Trek and the Twilight Zone vs. The Monkees, The Beverly Hillbillies and Gilligan's Island.

Zaha Hadid and Maya Lin vs. Robert Moses. 

A Confederacy of Dunces vs. Valley of the Dolls.

No one watches Ed Sullivan reruns (except for one, the exception that proves that rule).

It's our choice. The ones who create, the ones who instigate, the ones who respond to what's been built. It's up to us to raise the bar—pandering is a waste of what's possible.

Sometimes it seems like winner-take-all capitalism is pushing us ever harder to play it dumb. That makes it even more important that we resist.

            

Some people hate change

They don't hate you.

If you get confused about that, it's going to be difficult to make (needed, positive, important) change in the future.

            

Who is this for?

Is it for people who are interested, or those just driving by?

For the informed, intelligent, educated part of your audience? For those with an urgent need?

Is it designed to please the lowest common denominator?

If you're trying to delight the people who are standing on one foot, reading their email and about to buy from a competitor because he's cheaper than you, what compromises will you need to make? Are they worth it?

            

Election day

Every day, people vote.

They vote for brands, for habits, for the people they trust. They vote for where they will place their attention, their money and their time.

The big difference is that you can do just fine in today's election without winning a majority of votes. Most elections aren't winner-take-all.

The people at the edges, the special interest groups and the weird ones matter a lot when you don't need a landslide to make a difference.

The magic is this: As soon as you stop acting like you need every single vote, you can earn the votes of the people you seek to serve.

            

It's not your fault

... but it might be your responsibility.

That's a fork in the road on the way to becoming a professional.

            

Witch hunts make no sense

They are based on a fallacy: "I am irrationally afraid and persecuting this innocent person will make me feel better."

Which is expressed by those in power as: "There's a good reason I'm afraid and punishing this person will make that reason go away."

Hunting witches never makes things better. Partly because there are no witches.

But mostly because it's really unlikely that we're afraid for a good reason (our fear is just about always irrational). And of course, our irrational fear has nothing to do with the person or the group we're using a scapegoat.

So much more useful and productive to say, "I'm afraid," and leave it at that.

            

Symbolic logic

I was so transformed by the symbolic logic course I took in college that I took another one in grad school.

Can you learn to organize five true statements into a sixth one?

More important than just about any course that's based on facts, symbolic logic is an elegant way to build facts into arguments and arguments into change that lasts.

There are several good free courses online. Here's one.

            

Entitlement vs. worthiness

Entitlement is the joy killer.

Halloween is hardly what it could be. Any other day of the year, hand a kid a chocolate bar and he'll be thrilled. Do it on Halloween and it's worth almost nothing.

When you receive something you feel entitled to, something expected, that you believe you've earned, it's not worth much. And when you don't receive it, you're furious. After all, it's yours. Already yours. And you didn't get it. Whether you're wearing a hobo costume or showing up as a surgeon after years of medical school, entitlement guarantees that you won't get what you need.

Worthiness, on the other hand, is an essential part of receiving anything.

When you feel unworthy, any kind response, positive feedback or reward feels like a trick, a scam, the luck of the draw. It's hardly worth anything, because you decided in advance, before you got the feedback, that you weren't worthy.

It's possible to feel worthy without feeling entitled. Humility and worthiness have nothing at all to do with defending our territory. We don't have to feel like a fraud to also be gracious, open or humble.

Both entitlement and unworthiness are the work of the resistance. The twin narratives make us bitter, encourage us to be ungenerous, keep us stuck. Divas are divas because they've tricked themselves into believing both narratives--that they're not getting what they're entitled to, and, perversely, that they're not worth what they're getting.

The entitled yet frightened voice says, "What's the point of contributing if those people aren't going to appreciate it sufficiently?" And the defensive unworthy voice says, "What's the point of shipping the work if I don't think I'm worthy of being paid attention to..."

The universe, it turns out, owes each of us very little indeed. Hard work and the dangerous commitment to doing something that matters doesn't get us a guaranteed wheelbarrow of prizes... but what it does do is help us understand our worth. That worth, over time, can become an obligation, the chance to do our best work and to contribute to communities we care about.

When the work is worth it, make more of it, because you can, and because you're generous enough to share it.

"I'm not worthy," isn't a useful way to respond to success. And neither is, "that's it?"

It might be better if we were just a bit better at saying, "thank you."