Matthew Dicks's Blog

My love of Bob Cratchit

My favorite protagonist in all of literature might be Bob Cratchit from Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol.”

He is a relentlessly optimistic, forgiving man who loves his children as much as anyone I’ve ever seen, and loves his wife in equal measure. Despite his trials and tragedy, he somehow maintains a steadfast spirit and is able to lift his family to those same heights.

He turns small things into enormous gestures and memorable moments. He is endlessly spilling love and happiness to all around him. 

It’s astonishing. It’s impossible to be cynical or small-minded in the presence of Bob Cratchit.

He works hard. Provides for his family despite his meager wages. Exudes kindness to all people. 

I saw the theatrical version of “A Christmas Carol” two days ago at The Hartford Stage — the second time in two years we’ve seen the play. Being in the presence of Bob Cratchit for that short time filled my heart with gladness. 

I wept in the presence of Bob Cratchit when he and Tiny Tim were together.

The best and most heart-rending lines in the play for me are these, following the death of Tiny Tim:

“This is the first of our family to be parted from the rest… but I am sure we shall remember Tiny Tim, and try not to fall out with one another in memory of him. One day, each of us must part from the others in our turn. But we shall meet again, and we shall remember Tiny Tim — our first parting.”

It destroys me every time.

It’s so awful and true:

One day, each of us must part from the others in our turn.

Bob Cratchit can somehow turn my greatest fear into hope.

When I am feeling less than kind and lacking patience, I often think of Bob Cratchit and how he carries himself every moment of every day, and the thought of him inspires me to be a better man.

What more could you ask from fiction or the theater?

If you have a chance to read Dickens’ story — which isn’t very long — or see the play at The Hartford Stage or anywhere else, do so.

Spending some time in the presence of Bob Cratchit may do you some good, too.

Speeding makes no sense

Driving home yesterday afternoon on I-84, I was passed by a car weaving in and out of traffic, in what can only be described as dangerous and stupid.

I see this all the time, and quite possibly more often today:

Drivers exceeding the speed limit by considerable margins and weaving in and out of traffic in ways that endanger themselves and those around them.

It makes no sense.

I’m not someone averse to a bit of speeding on the highway. You’ll never find me driving 55 or even 65 when the road allows for it, but you also won’t find me driving 80 or 90 MPH either.

But here’s why driving even driving 70 or 75 MPH makes no sense:

Since the advent of GPS technology, it has become clear that the difference between 65 and 75 MPH is almost nothing in terms of changing your arrival time. Over the course of an hour, that additional 10 MPH yields about eight minutes of time saved, but only if your entire trip — door to door — can be done at those speeds, which never happens.

More often than not, a car will drive 10 or 20 MPH faster than me as it passes by, only to hit traffic farther up the road or an exit ramp with a traffic light, allowing me to instantly make up that ground.

It happens all the time.

Last week, a car was weaving through traffic on a two-lane road that runs past the high school in my town. He passed me in a less-than-safe manner and did the same down the road. But two minutes later, I pulled alongside him at a traffic light, and when the light changed to green, my lane moved first, so I was once again ahead of him, prompting him to begin his asinine passing procedure again.

Endangering himself and others yet again. Risking a speeding ticket or reckless driving charge in the process.

I understand the desire to shave off time from a commute, especially when you’re running late, and before we had technology that makes it clear that exceeding the speed limit saves little time while endangering yourself and those around you, I was as guilty of this stupidity as the people I see on the roads today.

But then I began using a GPS, and as my speed on the highway increased in an effort to save time, my arrival times barely nudged.

I came to understand that it wasn’t worth it.

Increasing your speed saves little time, and something as simple as a red light, a bit of traffic, or even a stop sign will often negate the time you’ve saved.

How have these morons on the road, weaving in and out of traffic at high speeds, not figured this out yet?

Confidence ain’t that easy

During an orientation talk at Duke’s Fuqua School of Business, Coach Lawson delivered a message about confidence and why, of all things, we so often leave home without it.

“Ever since you were born and able to dress yourself,” she told the students, “you’ve never left the house without clothes on, right? Like ever. Because if you did, you’d get arrested.”

The crowd laughed.

She continued: “We laugh because it sounds silly, right? That you’d ever leave the house without your clothes on. But we will consistently leave the house without our confidence, multiple times a week, multiple times a month, multiple times a year. That’s the most important thing to bring every day.”

It’s a fine message, except that to leave your house every day with confidence, you need to possess it.

This is not as easy, I think, as Coach Lawson believes.

I consult with leaders in almost every industry today. I work with Fortine 100 CEOs, nonprofit leaders, and literal billionaires. I am hired to coach and consult on storytelling, communications, marketing, and branding, but the question I am asked constantly is about confidence.

How did you get it?

Can it be coached?

Can you help me find confidence?

Can you help me strengthen my confidence?

Can you teach a workshop on the subject?

It’s all well and good to tell people to leave the home with confidence, but they need to have it first.

Can it be taught?

I once thought no. Confidence is born through experience.

Overcome enough obstacles.
Solve enough problems.
Conquer enough mountains.
Suffer enough defeats.
Slay a dragon or two.

Thus, confidence is born.

And I think that’s true.

But I’ve been asked about this so often that I’ve been thinking long and hard about it. Taking notes. Researching. Planning.

Yes, I suspect it can be taught alongside exercises designed to help a person build confidence through exploration, exposure, and struggle.

At its core, confidence is born from two things:

Relentless, unwavering belief in oneself combined with a relative disregard for the opinions of others.

Absolutely, confidence is formed at the intersection of those two things.

If you believe in yourself but are also obsessed with others’ opinions, you will struggle with confidence.

If you care little for the opinions of others but think poorly of yourself or your capabilities, you will struggle with confidence.

But combine the two, and you have one of the greatest superpowers on the planet.

Confidence makes life so much easier. It makes goals more attainable. It makes dreams more possible. It reduces, and maybe even eliminates stress and worry. It makes mountains less steep, roads less treacherous, and journeys less taxing.

Yes, Coach Lawson. One should not leave home without confidence, but please let us not assume that confidence is something everyone possesses or can easily attain.

If this were the case, leaders of enormously successful companies would not be asking me to help them become more confident. Performers would not be asking me how to feel more confident onstage. I would not watch so many people crumble under a crisis of confidence that leaves them exposed to a world filled with unexpected problems, insidious people, and seemingly insurmountable obstacles.

As I begin to think about my goals for 2026, one of them will be to teach a confidence class for anyone interested.

I’m not confident that it will work, but I’m supremely confident in my ability to give it a damn good try and deliver exceptional value (probably for free the first time), even if I fall short of the goal on my first go-around.

Thankful for chains of people

On this Thanksgiving, I’m thankful for the good people who lead to other good people in my life.

Fill your life with good people, and others will follow.

Five years ago, Masha Cresalia, formerly Masha Retovski, emailed me to ask if I would consider working with her at Slack. She had read “Storyworthy” and thought I could help her with some challenging work ahead.

I had more business than I could manage at the time, so I told Elysha I would probably just ignore the email. I didn’t use Slack, and her email didn’t paint a thrilling picture of possibility.

Elysha reminded me that my policy is to say yes to every opportunity until I know more about it, and only then should I consider saying no.

She was right. I did a whole TEDx Talk around this idea.

“Fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll talk to her.”

Thank goodness I did.

So began a business relationship and friendship that would take Masha and me from Slack to Salesforce and later to dozens of other companies when she left Salesforce to start consulting on her own. We’ve been working together ever since.

In 2023, we visited Masha in San Francisco as part of a West Coast vacation.

In 2024, Elysha Dicks and I attended Masha’s marriage in San Francisco.

Masha brought me into the corporate world in a way I had never been before, and it helped propel me into working with companies like Microsoft, Amazon, Google, Johnson & Johnson, PaloAlto, AstraZeneca, and many others.

I wouldn’t be where I am today without Masha.

In 2023, as Masha prepared to launch her consulting career, she hired a firm to redesign her website. Once it was completed, I asked her for the company’s name.

I loved their work, and my website needed a redesign as well.

That company, Kosei Designs, consisting of two women, worked with me to design a brand new website to represent my many roles. I thought it would be impossible.

Four months later, I launched my new website. I was thrilled with what they designed and built.

One of the women on the team, named Sadie Lovemore, then referred me to her friend and business associate, Yolanda Harris, who runs The Keynote Group. Yolanda and her team manage people like me who speak, consult, and coach on the corporate level.

I had no manager at the time. I was doing everything myself, and while it was working, I wasn’t very strategic in my thinking or planning. I was flying by the seat of my pants, taking inbound calls from Fortune 100 companies and figuring things out as I moved forward.

Confidence is a powerful tool when you’re blundering in the dark.

Sadie thought we should talk. She felt that Yolanda and I might work well together.

When I got on the first call with Yolanda, one of the first things she said was, “Who referred you?”

“Sadie,” I said, and thank goodness she did.

Yolanda and I have been working together for almost a year, and she and her team have already transformed my life. My work is now more strategic, more coordinated, more profitable. My clients are better served, and I’ve regained time once lost to negotiation, discovery, planning, and more.

She’s also a creative partner in my life, helping me to refine, develop, and improve my craft. She is an expert in her field, guiding me toward bigger and better things.

Masha (thanks in part to Elysha) to Sadie to Yolanda.

Along the way, each of these women has partnered with me in business and changed my life.

This is only one of many chains of introductions that I could point to that have made an enormous difference in my life.

Rena Klebart, a principal of Braeburn School in West Hartford, Connecticut, did not hire me in 1999. Years later, she told me that she and I would’ve been like oil and water had she hired me. Instead, she sent me to Plato Karafelis at Wolcott School, who hired me almost on the spot (as she suspected he would), which led me to meeting my wife and some of the closest and dearest friends of my life.

Two of those friends taught me to play golf, which led to even more friends and endless hours of joy.

One of those friends inadvertently gave me the idea for my frst novel, which launched my publishing career.

One of those friends wrote a rock opera and several musicals with me, which led me to meeting more people and access to the theater.

One of the parents turned friend at the school suggested that I try telling a story at The Moth, which introduced me to untold numbers of friends, acquaintances, and business relationships and transformed my life forever.

I would not be a corporate consultant, coach, keynote speaker, standup comic, storyteller, business owner, and author of three nonfiction books had she not made that suggestion.

Speak Up would not exist without that suggestion.

Nor would Storyworthy.

I would not be writing and performing solo shows had that friend not pushed me in the direction of The Moth.

A chain began with a school principal who didn’t hire me but took the time to recommend me to another principal at another school, which led to a chain of friends, colleagues, and business partners numbering in the hundreds and maybe thousands.

Including, and especially Elysha, who, by the way, has led me to some of my closest friends and opened the door to her family, which became mine.

Today, I am thankful for good people who lead to good people.

Today, I am thankful for those who take the time to make an introduction, open a door, suggest a path, and widen my world.

Today, I am thankful for the Mashas and Renas of the world, who start chains of connection through effort, kindness, and a desire to help people move forward and transform lives in the process.

If you have a moment today, maybe reflect on one of those chains in your life. Work your way back to the source. Find the first person who started things, and, if they are still in your life, thank them for what they have done for you.

Oftentimes, they have no idea how a simple act of kindness and connection has changed your life forever.

Happy Thanksgiving. I hope yours is filled with food, fun, and if you’re so inclined, football.

Why you write a book

I was listening to an author being interviewed about his new book on a podcast last week.

When he was asked what motivated him to write this book, she said, “Well, I wanted to start a conversation about this topic.”

No.

Start a conversation?

This is not the reason to write a book, and I don’t think it was the reason why he wrote this book. I don’t think any editor on the planet purchases a book on the idea that the author wants to “start a conversation.”

Yet it’s not the first time I’ve heard an author say this ridiculous thing.

Authors can do many things:

State an opinion. Express an idea. Challenge authority. Teach their readers something important or relevant. Change their perspective. Shine a light on a preciously ignored corner of the universe. Propose solutions. Critize the decisions of others. Take a stand. Share stories and wisdom.

These are all good reasons to write books.

If conversations emanate from an author saying something meaningful or important or illuminating, that’s terrific. But “starting a conversation” as the primary resons for writing a book?

No.

What’s a silly reason for anyone to write a book, and almost certainly disingenuous if given as a reason.

In this particular case, the author said this as a means of deflection. The podcast host was challenging his opinions in a perfectly civil, reasonable, but pointed way, but rather than defending his positions when asked why he wrote the book, he pivoted to, “Well, I wanted to start a conversation about this topic.”

It made me far less likely to purchase his book.

It made him sound less certain about his opinions.

It made me think the book is probably a little wishy-washy, too.

When asked why you wrote a book, the answer should be simple:

I had something in my brain that I wanted to share with others because I thought it was important, meaningful, entertaining, interesting, or the like.

We have conversation starters already. They tend to come in the form of packs of cards, coasters, or apps.

Books should do a lot more than just give people something to talk about.

French brain

I’ve been learning French via Duolingo for more than 100 days now.

I also took six years of French in high school and college, so I started with a base of knowledge, though much of it was lost and degraded thanks to the ravages of time.

Duolingo knows what they are doing. I am learning how to speak, write, and read French at a rapid pace.

Yesterday, something happened that had never happened:

I thought in French.

Elysha has asked me to purchase tickets for “Deconstructing the Beatles” at the Schubert in May, and while eating my lunch, I thought:

“Je dois acheter ces billets.”

I need to buy those tickets.

Granted, I had done a Duolingo lesson an hour before, and I have been studying those very words for more than a month, but that sentence came to me in French without thinking.

I don’t think that has ever happened to me.

I’m nowhere near fluent in French. I have miles upon miles to go. But I’m learning thanks to this app, and even better, I enjoy doing it.

I look forward to my lessons every day, and I’m often doing more than necessary simply because I’m having fun.

Thinking in French!

A new thing. A first-time thing. A signal that I might really be learning this language.

Revenge needs a name

Back in July, after a Slate magazine editor identified me as being someone especially focused and adept at getting revenge, I was asked to write a piece for their magazine and appear on one of their podcasts, where I discussed revenge and then helped a person plot revenge on a group of rotten little monsters who were ruining her day.

It was enormous fun. I may want to write an advice column or record an advice-based podcast on revenge someday.

In addition to discussing the means by which revenge is best exacted, I also discuss my Enemies List, my “I Told You So” calendar, and my history with revenge.

If you’d like to read the article I wrote, you can click here.

To listen to the podcast, you can click here.

Here is the craziest part of the story:

After writing the article and recording the podcast, I was approached by someone who wanted to hire me as a revenge consultant. She has a person who has wronged her egregiously and needs retribution. Lacking the skills, experience, and necessary mindset, she offered to pay me to help her plan and enact her revenge on this monster.

I wear many hats. I have many titles. I do many things.

I’ve since added “revenge” to my list of marketable skills.

Yesterday, I received a second revenge request:

A second person needs my help in exacting revenge against someone who wronged him, and he’s very serious about it.

He doesn’t need me to take any action. Simply advise him. Put my considerable talents to work at helping him devise a plan for revenge.

The revenge he seeks, for the record, isn’t serious or nefarious in any way. He’s not trying to destroy a career or ruin a marriage.

Think of it more as an elevated prank.

I’ve agreed to help. We negotiated an hourly rate. He’s now gathering information for me so we can proceed.

So now I really need a name for this new role. Back in July, I solicited possible names from readers and received many. The two I liked best were:

“Comeuppance Accountant” – Delivering the fate that someone deserves in a calculated manner

“Karma Reaper” – So that they may reap what they sow

Preferences? New suggestions?

Batman

A new study published in npj Mental Health Research found that when an individual dressed as Batman entered a car on the Milan subway, people were more likely to engage in prosocial behaviors, such as giving up their seats.

Before Batman entered the train, passengers offered their seats to a pregnant woman 37.7 percent of the time.

When Batman stepped onto the train, 67.2 percent of passengers offered their seats to a pregnant woman.

Apparently, the mere presence of the Caped Crusader was enough for people to act more valiantly.

What made researchers think of conducting this experiment is beyond me, but it’s brilliant.

This is an interesting result, and I’m sure that people will find ways of using it to encourage more prosocial behavior, but my question is this:

What the hell is wrong with people?

A pregnant woman steps onto a subway car, and 62.3 percent of people don’t give up their seat?

Even when Batman was present, a whopping 32.8 percent, or neatly a third of passengers, remained firmly planted in their seats.

This may have been a study designed to determine the impact of Batman on a subway train, but I think it’s also a study on how selfish human beings behave on public transportation.

And maybe everywhere.

Don’t fool yourself about your diamond

I’ve been thinking a lot about jewelry.

Jewelry seems to serve three possible purposes:

It enhances the appearance of the person wearing the items.It’s an opportunity to flaunt expensive belongings to signal wealth and prestige.It’s a conveyance of memory, tradition, or nostalgia.

The third purpose—conveying memory, tradition, or nostalgia—seems to make the most sense to me. Your great-grandmother passes down an antique ring to you, and when you wear it, you can reflect on and recall the memories you shared.

I get it. No confusion there.

But let’s look at the first two purposes.

One might argue that the primary reason that people wear jewelry is to enhance their physical appearance, and though this may be true for many, I would argue that for a significant portion of the population — including many who claim to be enhancing their physical appearance — jewelry actually serves as an opportunity to show off expensive and ostentatious possessions and has little to do with the actual appearance of the rings, necklaces, watches, and earrings.

Here’s why.

If the goal of jewelry is simply to enhance one’s appearance, then cubic zirconia, fake pearls, and similarly, synthetically produced items of jewelry should be perfectly acceptable to any wearer, regardless of their purchasing power, since it’s impossible to distinguish between genuine stones like diamonds and their artificial counterparts without a microscope and a jewlry expert.

To 99.99% of human beings, a fake diamond and a real diamond are indistinguishable.

If a person’s intent in donning a diamond necklace is to improve their overall image by directing attention to their neckline and adorning their body in sparkling stones, then why not purchase a necklace made of cubic zirconia every time and save the pile of money for a rainy day?

Unless an actual jeweler is examining the stones under magnification, no one would ever know the difference.

Right?

This leads me back to reason #2:

While jewelry may enhance a person’s appearance, I suspect that in many cases, it has more to do with the opportunity to flaunt an expensive belonging. Unable to drape oneself in hundred-dollar bills, expensive cars, or beach homes, precious metals and stones serve the same purpose and are much prettier.

While cubic zirconia might be just as beautiful as the real thing, people want others to believe that their expensive-looking jewelry is the real thing.

This is where the desire for beauty and the desire for expensive baubles diverge.

Take a guy who chooses to wear a $25,000 diamond-encrusted bracelet. Am I expected to believe he purchased this high-end bracelet because its appearance is superior to its identical $500 counterpart?

Or is it more likely that the man has purchased this watch as a public display of wealth?

If he claims he likes the look of the diamonds, why not purchase cubic zirconia? If I were to replace the actual diamonds with synthetics, he would never know, yet he doesn’t purchase the synthetics.

Why?

Or how about the woman with the $16,000 designer handbag? How difficult would it be to find a bag with a similar style, color, and shape for under $1,000?

Has the handbag been purchased for its actual appearance, or was it more about its popularity, the designer label’s blatant embossing, and the public’s awareness of the bag’s retail price?

Or how about the person with the three-carat diamond ring? A cubic zirconia reproduction of the same ring would cost a fraction of the price and would be indistinguishable without the assistance of a trained expert and a high-powered lens. Yet, most people would want nothing to do with the fake.

Why?

For many — if not most — people, jewelry is an opportunity to flaunt expensive belongings and signal wealth.

It’s the same reason that people wear Lacoste polo shirts even though:

Alligators are ugly and look stupid on a shirtEven on sale, the shirt is still overpriced simply because of the labelDonning these shirts converts the wearer into a walking billboard for clothing manufacturers

The shirts are expensive, and everyone knows it. Like a genuine diamond, both serve as an economic status symbol.

Don’t get me wrong:

I have even participated in this display of wealth. While I wear no jewelry, no watch, and avoid all branding on my clothing, when it came time to purchase Elysha an engagement ring, I bought a real diamond as opposed to a fake because purchasing an expensive ring signified to Elysha that I meant business:

“I really want you to marry me, and I want the cost associated with this ring and its authenticity to signal the depth of my love to both you and the world.”

I wanted my future wife to enjoy the gift of a real diamond.

I’m just not fooling myself. I’m not wearing expensive rings, watches, necklaces, and earrings, claiming that the real thing looks better, sparkles more, or is better quality, because that is rarely true.

We wear genuine stones because we want people to know that we mean business. We spent a lot of money. We can afford to spend a lot of money. Someone loved me enough to spend a lot of money.

Similarly, there is nothing inherently beautiful about a handbag adorned with the letter G or a shirt plastered with an alligator. It’s simply a means of identifying the luxury designer and, thus, the price.

It’s not exactly logical, and for many, I suspect the desire to drape oneself in high-ticket items isn’t for the noble reasons they often claim.

It’s not only about beauty. For a whole bunch of people, purchasing and donning expensive jewelry is also born of a need and desire to be seen as a person with a certain degree of wealth, power, or desirability.

I’m not complaining. If that’s what is desired, so be it.

Just don’t fool yourself into thinking otherwise.

Duolingo — mostly great with a few opportunities for improvement

I’ve been learning French with Duolingo since our trip to Quebec City.

107 days and counting.

I studied French for four years of high school and two years of college, but I think Duolingo might be the best instruction I’ve ever received in a foreign language.

Curriculum designers would be wise to study Duolingo’s approach. It’s a brilliantly designed curriculum that engages, spirals, reviews, and targets individual needs based upon previous performance.

Most importantly, it acknowledges that learning should be fun.

They’ve effectively gamified the instruction and incorporated reading, listening, writing, and speaking. They have an incredible variety of exercises, and I genuinely enjoy learning.

I look forward to opening the app each day.

But I’d love to see a little humor. I want to be occasionally surprised or delighted by something written or spoken. I’d love some Easter eggs, an occasional plotline, a splash of edginess, and maybe even a little rock-and-roll spirit.

Yesterday, I answered a question that genuinely surprised me. In my 107 days of using Duolingo, this was the first time I saw something that made me laugh.

More of this, please, Duolingo.

And if you’re working for Duolingo and would like a storytelling consultant to infuse your content with humor, surprise, and maybe even a few plot twists, please let me know.

I work for many companies, nonprofits, and even the FBI, but my favorites are the ones I love to use.