Optimism and Pessimism - When Two Worlds Collide

Pessimism is a trait with an image problem. Pessimists can be seen as poking holes in every idea, damaging morale, or even undermining business success. Martin Seligman defines the difference between optimists and pessimists using the P's:

Pessimists regard negative events as Permanent (it's not just for now, it'll always be bad), Pervasive (it's not just this, everything is bad) and Personal (it's all my fault). Optimists, however, will spin the same event the other way, thinking "It's not all bad, this is isolated, it won't last forever, and besides, it's not my fault". Optimists tend to apply these three P's to positive events, which is to say, really, that optimists tend to treat the positive as significant, learn from it, and expect more of it, whilst pessimists do the opposite.

The case for optimism is easy to make, therefore; optimists will tend to be happier, because they see the future as being likely to hold good things. This makes them opportunity takers, as they expect good results, and they bask in a generally positive worldview. In the 1950s, Friedman and Rosenman linked Type A personalities (those with greater urgency, anxiety and similar traits) with a greater risk of heart attacks. All in all, pessimism looks rather like the poor relation here; pessimists are more likely to be unhappy and unhealthy, and less likely to take opportunities to improve things.

There are some real risks, however, to optimism. Many optimists tend not to prepare thoroughly, because they feel confident of success, leading them to fall into holes which they have decided are definitely not there. Likewise, optimists may not be terribly realistic, clinging to a Mr Micawber like expectation that "something will turn up". The stock market is, in essence, a measure of investor confidence and optimism, and the bubble which pertained in it during the early years of the last decade is a salutary warning. In a mindset which has been termed "Aggressive complacency", investors clung to the idea (espoused by one Gordon Brown), that the bull market would continue permanently, unlike every other bull market in the recorded history of markets, all of which have ended in a peak, and a crash. This ungrounded optimism spread to banks, consumers and Government, and was at the root of the crisis in which we now find ourselves. Admiral James Stockdale, the highest ranking naval officer to be held prisoner during the Vietnam war, felt that optimists were the least likely to survive such an experience, as the repeated dashing of their hopes destroyed their ability to cope. He talked of the importance of being able to face the brutal facts of your situation, whilst still holding keeping faith that in the end, you will prevail.

In one business with whom I work two of the directors are tremendous optimists. They are visionary and inspiring, full of energy to move forward, and full of ideas of how to make that happen. They make it a great place to work, and their vision and direction has been at the root of the success of the business. The third director, however, is very much more pessimistic and cautious. In many teams, this is a difficult balance to deal with, but in this case, it works, because each has learned to recognise the value of the other's approach. Our more pessimistic director will say "These are great ideas, but what will we do in month 5 and 6, when our revenues are always down?". The other directors will tend to say "We'll try really hard, and bring in the money", but, being who he is, he will insist that we plan for the downturn, even if that means scaling back some of our plans for the year. Given that we have several times sailed very close to the wind financially at those times of year, to the extent that without his caution, we would have gone under, it's not hard to see why he is taken seriously.

Ultimately, it's hard for a business to thrive without a good sprinkling of optimists in the boardroom, and elsewhere as well, but for that optimism to go unchecked is a huge risk. What is needed is a balance, but for that balance to work, each personality type must respect the other. It's helpful if pessimists can learn to talk in terms of "What we need to do to make this work", rather than "All the things which could go wrong", and optimists could do worse than to realise that, however positive they feel, there will be risks which need to be addressed. Can't we all just get along?

Why you should commute by bicycle

More and more people commute to work by bicycle, and I am one of them. I might be one of the more extreme examples; the nature of my day job as a leadership development consultant is that I work all over the country, at locations I’ve never been to before, and stay in hotels. Most people would probably decide that cycle commuting was too hard in those circumstances, but I was determined enough that I sold my car in order to be sure I would really do it. More on that as we go.

So, why SHOULD you commute by bike? Here are the reasons

1. It’s cheaper

The cost of fuel is very topical at the moment, but really, it’s the tip of the iceberg when it comes to commuting. Most people seem to spend £5000 or more on their cars, then there’s tax, insurance, MOT, repairs and so on. I’ve found that we don’t need to be a 2 car family any more, and that’s a BIG saving. Driving is not going to get any cheaper either; fuel is a diminishing resource, and world use of it is increasing all the time.

2. You’ll be healthier

Probably. British people on average are overweight and don’t exercise enough. Perhaps you’re one of the exceptions, but even if that’s true, you’ll benefit. Imagine if you didn’t need to pay for your gym membership, or find time to go to “Body Pump”, or whatever else it might be?

3. You’ll get there quicker

This is, of course, not necessarily true. If you’re in London, you’ll definitely be quicker than a car, and often quicker than the tube as well. Elsewhere, perhaps not, but unless your car commute is conducted on quiet roads, it’ll almost certainly not add much to your journey time.

4. You’ll reduce congestion

There are too many cars on the road. If you’ve ever fumed in an endless queue for traffic lights, you know this to be true. Not only can you filter past the queues on your bike, but they’ll be one car shorter as a result of your decision.

5. It’s fun!

This may seem unlikely at first. I recall that when I first returned to cycling, 8 years ago, I found it tremendously hard work. That’s partly because I was riding a rather unsuitable bike which wasn’t big enough for me, but it was more to do with a lack of fitness. Now, I can do 10 miles or so each way and enjoy it. Exercise is good for you, you see more from on the bike, and if you’re so inclined, you can play silly beggars and race the other drivers.

But, but, but, I hear you say. People have a lot of reasons why it must be impossible, or at least a bad idea, so let’s explode some myths.

A. It’s too far

I’ve heard this as a reason for distances starting at 2 miles. For a person in moderately good shape (as you will be after riding for a few months) 10-12mph is a typical speed, and that’s in town, with traffic lights, and without speeding around. I get to the station in around 15-17 mins, and it’s 3.5 miles. Consider that it would take me almost as long by car, and I’d pay £8 to park for the day, and that seems pretty reasonable. I allow an hour if I need to do 10 miles, but with a fair wind and a bit of luck with traffic, I’ll get there in 40 mins, giving me extra time for a coffee.

B. No, really, it’s MUCH too far

Some of us commute a very long way. In any given week, I can be in London (75 miles) Manchester (235 miles) and Norwich (204 miles) on different days, which is rather more than anyone can do by bike. The train, however, is a different matter. Even by cycling to the station and locking my bike there, I save myself £8 and get half an hours workout a day, not to mention the fact that travelling by train means I can read, work, or even sleep when I would otherwise be driving. However, the true multi-modal commuter takes their bike with them!

On some routes, bikes are allowed on the train; the South West trains that I catch to London have bike racks, and I can almost always find a space. Folding bikes, however, are allowed on all trains, so that can be a great way forward. You can pick up a cheap folding bike on eBay, but beware, it’ll either be old, heavy but robust (think of old folding Raleigh shopping bikes), or fragile and hard to ride. You should consider £500 the price of entry to a decent folding bike. I’m a sales agent for Downtube bikes (my site is www.velochocolate.co.uk), and the bikes I sell are extremely rideable. I’ve had no qualms about doing 50 miles on one, and of course, they fold up to go in the back of your car. I initially wanted one to ensure I could still get on the train even if the racks were full, but when I sold my car, I started to discover the limitations. Most folding bikes work like these, they fold in the middle, and the seatpost and handlebar post fold too, making them a lot smaller, but still somewhat cumbersome if you’re carrying them into a hotel, or trying to fit them on a crowded inter-city train.

So, I bit the bullet and bought a Brompton. It’s a little compromised in terms of riding, but much less than I feared even for a 6’3 man like myself, it folds down to the size of a large briefcase, stays folded nicely, fits in train luggage racks, disappears into the corner of client offices, and tucks into hotel wardrobes. I can carry everything I need for working and living for a week, and won’t hesitate to ride 15 or 20 miles on it. It’s not cheap (mine cost about £1000 including all the bags and so on), but that’s a lot less than most people’s cars cost, and if it saves you just £4 a day in underground fares, it’ll pay for itself in the first year.

C. I can’t afford a bike

I’ve made this sound a bit expensive, but it doesn’t have to be. You can probably get commuting on whatever is in your shed (invest in a can of spray lubricant, and spray the chain and derailleurs, and a floor pump with a pressure gauge. The number of people who I go by whose tyres are almost flat, rusty chain grinding like an old factory, with their knees up by their ears amazes me). Set the seat so that your legs are at almost full stretch when you reach the bottom of a pedal stroke. This can seem high; you’ll only just be able to get your toes down while sitting in the seat, but the difference it makes to how tired your legs get is immense.

You can spend £1000s on a bike, but you don’t need to. A little trawling and patience of eBay can get you a decent road racing type bike from the 80’s for £50 if you don’t mind spraying some oil and perhaps buying a tyre, and that will get you where you’re going mighty fast. Don’t, however, go to Halfords and buy a bike for £80; it’ll be hard work, and designed to wear out very quickly. Don’t go to Halfords at all in fact. Spend at least £200, and at that price range, get the simplest bike you can find; you don’t need suspension, or disc brakes, or any of that shenanigans. The simpler it is, the easier and cheaper it’ll be to fix, and the less often you’ll need to.

£25 on eBay

£20 on eBay

D. I don’t want to be a MAMIL (Middle Aged Man/Woman in Lycra)

The newspapers have kindly coined a sneery term for grown up cyclists, but don’t worry. Nobody looks good in lycra except Vicky Pendleton, and those who wear it do so because it works, it’s comfortable, and they’ve decided they don’t care. The good news is, you don’t need it. Going, as I do, to client sites, I don’t have any opportunity to change clothes, so I ride in my suit. I use a velcro strap to keep my trousers away from the chain, and I carry a cheap hi-viz rain jacket and cheap waterproof trousers in my bag (total outlay less than £30). When it’s really properly cold, I wear a hi-viz padded jacket like motorway workers wear. When I lock my bike up, the helmet and jacket come off, and I walk in looking like new.

E. I don’t want to stink all day

And neither you should! After a few weeks of riding, you’ll get to the point where you can pootle along at a comfortable speed without sweating too much at all. It’s a little tougher in the summer, and I have the tendency to want to cycle as fast as I can, but I’ve learned that I don’t get stinky like I did when I was a teenager. Carry a packet of wet wipes, so you can pop to the loo and give yourself a wipe down if you need to, and you’re sorted, but remember, in Holland, everyone cycles to work in their work clothes, and there is no big personal hygiene problem as a result. London is fast realising this as a result of the Boris Bikes; loads of people are now cycling to all sorts of places without special bike clothing. You can too.

F. I don’t want to die

Cycling is not as dangerous as a lot of people think. People do get killed, but people also get killed crossing the road and driving their cars, and I am told that the added benefits from the exercise outweigh any added risks of road accidents, so that cyclists have a higher life expectancy than non-cyclists.

Adopt sensible practises on the road, of which the most important is, make sure there’s space for you. If you can get to the front of the traffic queue for lights, do so, and make sure the first driver can see you. If not, don’t sit in the gutter, get into the lane so that when the lights change, you can pull away safely and the car behind can wait. Likewise, if you’re coming up to a tight corner, don’t be inside any other vehicles. Buses and trucks in particular clip tight corners close because of their length, but cars do it too, so try to be in between cars at corners and pinch points, and don’t be afraid to pull out into the lane to make sure you have enough space. These measures are no more than the sort of sensible measures you take when driving (ie don’t drive right on the bumper of the car in front, don’t try to go up the inside of a lorry when joining the motorway), and will keep you safe.

Wearing a high viz vest, and plenty of lights if it’s dark (a white light at the front and a red at the rear on the bike is a minimum, but you can have more, and lights on your helmet are especially visible) will make you more visible too.

So, I state my case ladies and gentlemen. Sooner or later, cost and congestion will force you out of the car and onto a bike, so why not make the leap now, when you will get some positive cost benefits as well as all the health ones?

When learning is too easy to work

I came across an interesting article this week in the Telegraph, - http://www.telegraph.co.uk/technology/amazon/8256899/E-readers-too-easy-to-read.html -, citing research which shows that e-books, especially when read on handy devices like the Amazon Kindle, actually impede learning. The crux of the matter is that these devices are very easy to read; even easier than a book is, especially in poor light conditions. They have very crisp displays, well chosen fonts, and thanks to technology, are readable no matter what the light (perfect if you're a 10 year old reading under the covers after lights out!).

The problem is that there is a positive correlation between having to work hard to read something, and retaining it, and so the ease of reading these devices actually means you retain less of what you've read. This is not too much of a problem for the Kindle, which is marketed mainly at the leisure reading market; after all, does it matter whether or not you can remember chapter 2 of the latest Maeve Binchy? It does pose an interesting dilemma for those of us involved in the world of learning, however.

For the learning and development professional, particularly offering their services in from outside an organisation, what we night call "face validity" is very important, in other words, if we don't look right, then it doesn't matter how right we actually are, our contributions will be rejected. This is particularly true for e-learning, which is often unsupervised, and doesn't have the advantage that in-person facilitators have of being able to build rapport with the learner. Organisational learning is, sadly, often resented or undervalued by the participants, and so we make it as engaging, interesting, and easy to get to grips with as possible.

The trouble is, this research suggests that our efforts to make learning accessible actually reduce it's "stickability", and make it more likely that what we bring will be forgotten. Imagine, if you will, than an e-learning provider were to attempt to take this on board, and made their materials more difficult to read, challenging the user to work harder to get through it. Certainly, those who did would learn more, but many would simply reject it out of hand.

There's no simple answer to this dichotomy; getting our learning in the door probably means inevitably compromising its effectiveness in some ways. The sad truth is that it's much easier for internal learning providers to really break the mould, as Reg Revans did when he developed Action Learning for the Coal Board. Maybe there's a silver lining to this though; my handwriting is not the neatest, and no matter how hard I try, my flipcharts are never as neat and legible as those of my colleagues. Perhaps I can start charging extra for my services?