Triggers: Creating Behavior That Lasts--Becoming the Person You Want to Be

by Marshall Goldsmith

“I need to get better at making friends.” Not because he might need people like Kay to save him in the future, but because he wanted to become more like Kay. Not all of us require a violent life-threatening knock on the head to change our behavior. It only seems that way.

How do we pinpoint the triggering moments that anger us, or throw us off course, or make us feel that all is right in the world—so we can avoid the bad ones, repeat the good ones? How do we make triggers work for us?

Fate is the hand of cards we’ve been dealt. Choice is how we play the hand. Despite a hard knock on the head, Phil didn’t bend to circumstance. His fate was to fall, hit his head, and recover. His choice was to become a better neighbor.

“You’re operating in a business where everyone’s looking at the clock. A show starts and ends precisely at a given time. The control booth screens display everything in hundredths of a second. And it never stops. There’s always another show to do. The clock is always ticking. This creates an incredible sense of urgency in everyone. But if you’re in charge, it also tests your patience. You want everything done now, or even sooner. You become very demanding, and when you don’t get what you want, you can get frustrated and angry. You start treating people as the enemy. They’re not only disappointing you but making you look bad. And then you get angry.”

When we make bad choices and fail ourselves or hurt the people we love, we should feel pain. That pain can be motivating and in the best sense, triggering—a reminder that maybe we messed up but we can do better. It’s one of the most powerful feelings guiding us to change.

Some people say they want to change, but they don’t really mean it. It was dawning on me that Harry was using our work together as another opportunity to display his superiority and to reverse the misperceptions of all the confused people surrounding him, including his wife and kids. By our fourth meeting I gave up the ghost. I told Harry that my coaching wouldn’t be helpful to him and we parted ways.

That’s what makes adult behavioral change so hard. If you want to be a better partner at home or a better manager at work, you not only have to change your ways, you have to get some buy-in from your partner or co-workers. Everyone around you has to recognize that you’re changing. Relying on other people increases the degree of difficulty exponentially. Let that last sentence sink in before you turn the page. This is not a book about stopping a bad habit such as smoking cigarettes or dealing with your late-night craving for ice cream. Nicotine and ice cream aren’t the target constituency here. It’s about changing your behavior when you’re among people you respect and love. They are your target audience. What makes positive, lasting behavioral change so challenging—and causes most of us to give up early in the game—is that we have to do it in our imperfect world, full of triggers that may pull and push us off course. The good news is that behavioral change does not have to be complicated. As you absorb the methods in the following pages, do not be lulled into dismissiveness because my advice sounds simple. Achieving meaningful and lasting change may be simple—simpler than we imagine. But simple is far from easy.

An excuse explains why we fell short of expectations after the fact. Our inner beliefs trigger failure before it happens. They sabotage lasting change by canceling its possibility. We employ these beliefs as articles of faith to justify our inaction and then wish away the result. I call them belief triggers.

This is a natural response that combines three competing impulses: 1) our contempt for simplicity (only complexity is worthy of our attention); 2) our contempt for instruction and follow-up; and 3) our faith, however unfounded, that we can succeed all by ourselves. In combination these three trigger an unappealing exceptionalism in us. When we presume that we are better than people who need structure and guidance, we lack one of the most crucial ingredients for change: humility.

that life always intrudes to alter our priorities and test our focus.

In my coaching, I usually work with executive clients for eighteen months. I warn each client that the process will take longer than they expect because there will be a crisis. I can’t name the crisis, but it will be legitimate and real—for example, an acquisition, a defection, a major product recall—and it may dramatically extend the time they need to achieve positive change. They cannot predict it, but they should expect it—and

We set a goal and mistakenly believe that in achieving that goal we will be happy—and that we will never regress. This belief triggers a false sense of permanence

From childhood we are brought up to believe that life is supposed to be fair. Our noble efforts and good works will be rewarded. When we are not properly rewarded we feel cheated. Our dashed expectations trigger resentment.

Getting better is its own reward. If we do that, we can never feel cheated.

For example, it is not uncommon for me to work with an executive who makes comments like, “I am no good at giving positive recognition. That’s just not me.” I then ask these people if they have an incurable genetic disease that is prohibiting them from giving people the recognition that they deserve. We can change not only our behavior but how

we define ourselves. When we put ourselves in a box marked “That’s not me,” we ensure that we’ll never get out of it.

Overconfidence. Stubbornness. Magical thinking. Confusion. Resentment. Procrastination. That’s a lot of heavy baggage to carry on our journey of change. All these rationalizations, some profound, some silly, still don’t completely answer the larger question, Why don’t we become the person we want to be? Why do we plan to be a better person one day—and then abandon that plan within hours or days? There is an even larger reason that explains why we don’t make the changes we want to make—greater than the high quality of our excuses or our devotion to our belief triggers. It’s called the environment.

The most pernicious environments are the ones that compel us to compromise our sense of right and wrong. In the ultracompetitive environment of the workplace, it can happen to the most solid citizens.

Our environment changes us even when we’re dealing one-on-one with people to whom we’d ordinarily show kindness. We turn friends into strangers, behaving as if we’ll never have to face them again. I was

environment that I’m most concerned with is

actually smaller, more particular than that. It’s situational, and it’s a hyperactive shape-shifter. Every time we enter a new situation, with its mutating who-what-when-where-and-why specifics, we are surrendering ourselves to a new environment—and putting our goals, our plans, our behavioral integrity at risk. It’s a simple dynamic: a changing environment changes us.

There’s nothing inauthentic about the woman’s behavior. It’s a necessary survival strategy in a professional environment, especially if you’re no longer in total command of your situation.

As an exercise, I asked her to track her environment and how many behavioral personas she adopted as she went through a typical day. Nine, she reported back. She behaved like a CEO among her office staff, a public speaker at a PR event, an engineer among her design wizards, a salesman with a potential customer, a diplomat with a visiting trade group, and so on. Few of us are legally mandated to be so aware.

It wasn’t racial. Simon was a self-entitled “toff,” a product of Britain’s privileged class and elite schools. He had a penchant for pomposity and biting remarks. The sarcasm was his way of reminding people of his background, elevating himself while diminishing others. He wasn’t a fun guy to be with, but he was not a bigot.

But for now let’s absorb and wallow in Nadeem’s hard-won appreciation that our environment is a relentless triggering machine. If we do not create and control our environment, our environment creates and controls us. And the result turns us into someone we do not recognize.

The interviewees almost always focus on my client’s good or bad behavior that they have experienced personally. Interviewees rarely mention the environment in which that behavior occurs. I have to press for that information. When does he act like this? With whom? Why? Eventually I get useful answers.

Feedback—both the act of giving it and taking it—is our first step in becoming smarter, more mindful about the connection between our environment and our behavior. Feedback teaches us to see our environment as a triggering mechanism. In some cases, the feedback itself is the trigger.

Radar speed displays—also called driver feedback systems—work because they harness a well-established concept in behavior theory called a feedback loop. The RSDs measure a driver’s action (that is, speeding) and relay the

information to the driver in real time, inducing the driver to react. It’s a loop of action, information, reaction. When the reaction is measured, a new loop begins, and so on and so on. Given the immediate change in a driver’s behavior after just one glance at an RSD, it’s easy to imagine the immense utility of feedback loops in changing people’s behavior. A feedback loop comprises four stages: evidence, relevance, consequence, and action.

This is how feedback ultimately triggers desirable behavior. Once we deconstruct feedback into its four stages of evidence, relevance, consequence, and action, the world never looks the same again. Suddenly we understand that our good behavior is not random. It’s logical. It follows a pattern. It makes sense. It’s within our control. It’s something we can repeat. It’s why some obese

our awareness. We don’t know we’ve changed. Which brings up the obvious question (well, obvious to me): What if we could control our environment so it triggered our most desired behavior—like an elegantly designed feedback loop? Instead of blocking us from our goals, this environment propels us. Instead of dulling us to our surroundings, it sharpens us. Instead of shutting down who we are, it opens us.

To fully appreciate the reason for this, it’s helpful to take a closer look at these last two dimensions of triggers—encouraging or discouraging, productive or counterproductive. They express the timeless tension between what we want and what we need. We want short-term gratification while we need long-term benefit. And we never get a break from choosing one or the other. It’s the defining conflict of adult behavioral change. And we write the definitions. We define what makes a

matrix where encouraging triggers lead us toward what we want and productive triggers lead us toward what we need. If only our encouraging triggers and productive triggers were the same. It can happen. It’s the ideal situation. Unfortunately, what we want often lures us away from what we need. Let’s take a closer look.

We Want It but Don’t Need It: The paradoxical effect of an encouraging trigger that is counterproductive comes to a head most tellingly in the upper left quadrant. This is where we encounter pleasurable situations that can tempt or distract us from achieving our goals. If you’ve ever binge-watched a season or two of a TV show on Netflix when you should be studying, or finishing an assignment, or going to sleep, you know how an appealing distraction can trigger a self-defeating choice. You’ve sacrificed your goals for short-term gratification. If you’ve ever taken a supervisor’s compliment or a client’s reassurances as an excuse to ease up a little bit, you know how positive reinforcement can set you back rather than propel you ahead.

haven’t set up any systems of rules or fines to nudge me toward this goal. I simply don’t exist on the right side of the matrix. And the right side is the only place to be for achieving behavioral change.

The antecedent is the event that prompts the behavior. The behavior creates a consequence. A common classroom example: a student is drawing pictures instead of working on the class assignment.

But the people in our lives care enormously whether we yield to our first unwelcome impulse (for example, rudeness, cruelty, rage) or we stifle the impulse and come up with a better choice. With people in the mix, mere habit can’t guide our behavior. We must be adaptable, not habitual—because the stakes are so much higher. If I surrender to my nicotine craving and smoke a cigarette, I hurt myself. If I lose my temper with my child, I hurt my child.

When a trigger is pulled we have an impulse to behave a certain way. That’s why some of us hear a loud crash behind us and immediately duck our heads to protect ourselves. The more shrewd and alert among us aren’t as quick to run for cover. We hear the sound and look around to see what’s behind it—in case there’s even more to worry about. Same trigger, different responses, one of them automatic and hasty (in a word, impulsive, as in yielding to the first impulse), the other intermediated by pausing, reflecting, and sifting among better options. We are not primitive sea slugs responding with twitchy movement whenever we’re poked with a needle. We have brain cells. We can think. We can make any impulse run in place for a brief moment while we choose to obey or ignore it. We make a choice not out of unthinking habit but as evidence of our intelligence and engagement. In other words, we are paying attention.

The most effective leaders can vary their leadership style to fit the needs of the situation. Hence, the term situational leadership.

This was “situational leadership.” It dissected the relationship between leaders and their followers into four distinct styles: 1. Directing is for employees requiring a lot of specific guidance to complete the task. The leader might say, “Chris, here’s what I’d like you to do, step by step. And here’s when I need it done.” It’s primarily a one-way conversation, with little input from the employee. 2. Coaching is for employees who need more than average guidance to complete the task, but with above-average amounts of two-way dialogue. Coaching is for people who both want and need to learn. The leader might say, “Chris, here’s what I’d like you to do,” and then ask for input: “What do you think, Chris?” 3. Supporting is for employees with the skills to complete the task but who may lack the confidence to do it on their own. This style features below-average amounts of direction. The leader might say, “Chris, here’s the task. How do you think it should be done? Let’s talk about it. How can I help you on this one?” 4. Delegating is for employees who score high on motivation, ability, and confidence. They know what to do, how to do it, and can do it on their own. The leader might say, “Chris, here’s the assignment. You have a great track record. If I can help, just ask. If not, you’re on your own.”

CV

Situational leadership is a well-known theory that’s been applied in training millions of leaders around the world. Because I learned it early in my career from its creators I believe it in my bones. It’s one of the big reasons I’ve made a career out of helping business leaders develop better relationships with their colleagues and subordinates.

Whether you’re leading other people or leading the follower in you, the obstacles to achieving your goals are the same. You still have to deal with an environment that is more hostile than supportive. You still have to face other people who tempt you away from your objectives. You still have to factor in the high probability of low-probability events. And you still have to consider that as the day goes on and your energy level diminishes, your motivation and self-discipline will flag.

apply this situational approach—that how we manage others is how we should manage ourselves—with clients.

I discussed this with Rennie and we agreed that his need for guidance in staff meetings was high. Very high. He couldn’t go into meetings hoping he’d behave himself. He needed clear instructions available to him at all times. Our solution came in the form of an index card, which Rennie placed in front of himself at every staff meeting. The card said, “Don’t confuse your staff. Don’t give the same assignment to more than one person.” It may sound corny or simplistic, but when the discussion became intense and Rennie was most vulnerable, the card was all the reminder he needed to think before he made an assignment. This is how Rennie’s inner planner got in sync with his inner doer.

Let’s use the term planner for the part of us that intends to change our behavior and doer for the part of us that actually makes change happen. The disconnect is the same: We are superior planners and inferior doers. •

It’s not just environmental intrusions and unpredicted events that upset our plans. It’s also our willful discounting of past experience. We make plans that are wholly contradicted by our previous actions

The required task was not beyond their abilities. All they had to do was avoid making negative comments—in other words, keep their mouths shut.

Yet 16 out of the 17 guests had to reach into their pockets and pull out twenty-dollar bills for the kitty.*2 They couldn’t overcome their environment. The doer in them, swaddled in a convivial atmosphere that tends to loosen tongues, could not keep a promise that the planner in each had made a few minutes earlier.

sophie et moi

Forecasting is what we must do after acknowledging the environment’s power over us. It comprises three interconnected stages: anticipation, avoidance, and adjustment.

Peter Drucker famously said, “Half the leaders I have met don’t need to learn what to do. They need to learn what to stop.” It’s no