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

by Marshall Goldsmith

This is a book about adult behavioral change. Why are we so bad at it? How do we get better at it? How do we choose what to change? How do we make others appreciate that we’ve changed? How can we strengthen our resolve to wrestle with the timeless, omnipresent challenge any successful person must stare down—becoming the person we want to be?

A trigger is any stimulus that reshapes our thoughts and actions. In every waking hour we are being triggered by people, events, and circumstances that have the potential to change us.

Regret is the emotion we experience when we assess our present circumstances and reconsider how we got here. We replay what we actually did against what we should have done—and find ourselves wanting in some way. Regret can hurt.

The pain that comes with regret should be mandatory, not something to be shooed away like an annoying pet. 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 hard to initiate behavioral change, even harder to stay the course, hardest of all to make the change stick. I’d go so far as to say that adult behavioral change is the most difficult thing for sentient human beings to accomplish.

What do you want to change in your life?

How long has this been going on?

How’s that working out? In other words, can you point to a specific moment when you decided to change something in your life and you acted on the impulse and it worked out to your satisfaction?

It takes extraordinary effort to stop doing something in our comfort zone (because it’s painless or familiar or mildly pleasurable) in order to start something difficult that will be good for us in the long run.

We don’t know how to execute a change. There’s a difference between motivation and understanding and ability.

This should be self-evident. Change has to come from within. It can’t be dictated, demanded, or otherwise forced upon people. A man or woman who does not wholeheartedly commit to change will never change.

even when altering our behavior represents all reward and no risk—and clinging to the status quo can cost us our careers and relationships—we resist change.

Everyone around you has to recognize that you’re changing. Relying on other people increases the degree of difficulty exponentially.

It is much easier, and more fun, to attack the strategy of the person who’s trying to help than to try to solve the problem.

An excuse is the handy explanation we offer when we disappoint other people.

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.

Just because people understand what to do doesn’t ensure that they will actually do it.

the willpower we assume when we set a goal rarely measures up to the willpower we display in achieving that goal. Something always comes up to sink our boat. This belief triggers overconfidence.

When we want to make an excuse for errant behavior, any day can be designated as a “special day.” We yield to impulse and short-term gratification because today is the Super Bowl, or my birthday, or our anniversary, or my day off,

In a down moment after failure or loss, we tell ourselves, “At least I’m better than _________.” We award ourselves a free pass because we’re not the worst in the world.

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.

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.

We seldom recognize that self-control is a limited resource. As we become tired our self-control begins to waver and may eventually disappear.

This faith in time’s infinite patience triggers procrastination. We will start getting better tomorrow. There’s no urgency to do it today.

We get down to work without accommodating the fact that life always intrudes to alter our priorities and test our focus.

It might produce change in the short run, but nothing meaningful or lasting—because the process is based on impulse rather than strategy, hopes and prayers rather than structure.

The Great Western Disease is “I’ll be happy when…” This is our belief that happiness is a static and finite goal, within our grasp when we get that promotion, or buy that house, or find that mate, or whatever.

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.

Fairy tales end with “and they lived happily ever after.” That is why they are called fairy tales, not documentaries.

research shows that only two years after winning the lottery, the winners are not that much happier than they were before they collected their checks. The big payday solves their old problems of debt and paying the mortgage and funding their children’s schooling. But new problems immediately appear. Relatives and friends and charities suddenly appear expecting a generous handout.

if the reward is the only motivator people revert to their old ways, and

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

While our slow and steady improvement may not be as obvious to others as it is to us, when we revert to our previous behavior, people always notice.

If we change, we are somehow not being true to who we really are. This belief triggers stubbornness. We refuse to adapt our behavior to new situations because “it isn’t me.”

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.

If we’re successful, we tend to credit ourselves for our victories and blame our situation or other people for our losses. This belief triggers an impaired sense of objectivity. It convinces us that while other people consistently overrate themselves, our own self-assessment is fair and accurate.

Our environment is a nonstop triggering mechanism whose impact on our behavior is too significant to be ignored.

We put off going to bed at the intended time because we prefer to remain in our current environment—watching a late-night movie or playing video games or cleaning the kitchen—rather than move to the relative calm and comfort of our bedroom. It’s a choice between competing environments.

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.

A feedback loop comprises four stages: evidence, relevance, consequence, and action.

Direct triggers are stimuli that immediately and obviously impact behavior, with no intermediate steps between the triggering event and your response.

Indirect triggers take a more circuitous route before influencing behavior. You see a family photo that initiates a series of thoughts that compel you to pick up the phone and call your sister.

the idea that inexplicably pops into your head when you’re alone musing on a problem is an internal trigger inspiring you to take action. Its origin may be a mystery, but if it stimulates behavior, it’s as valid as any external prompt.

Conscious triggers require awareness. You know why your finger recoils when you touch the hot plate. Unconscious triggers shape your behavior beyond your awareness. For example, no matter how much people talk about the weather they’re usually oblivious about its triggering influence on their moods.

Unanticipated triggers take us by surprise, and as a result stimulate unfamiliar behavior. My friend Phil did not see his fall down the stairs coming, but the fall triggered a powerful desire to change.

Encouraging triggers push us to maintain or expand what we are doing. They are reinforcing. The sight of a finish line for an exhausted marathon runner encourages him to keep running, even speed up.

Triggers are not inherently “good” or “bad.” What matters is our response to them. For example, well-meaning and supportive parents can trigger a positive self-image for one child yet be viewed as “smothering” by another child.

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.

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.