On Resilience

1: the capability of a strained body to recover its size and shape after deformation caused especially by compressive stress;  2: an ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune or change.


We were inspired by the cover story in last Sunday's New York Times Magazine about kids' success. Specifically, about the value in failure and learning how to deal with it.

The piece also questioned whether focusing on perfect performance is overvalued, and cited some illuminating results of multi-year studies among middle-school kids and their longer-term success . . . or lack thereof. The gist: Kids who scored higher for traits like resilience (i.e., "grit") were more likely to attain more lasting and meaningful success than kids with higher grade-point averages and standardized test scores.

This sounded a lot like the central message of the famous Ken Robinson TED talk, in which he so brilliantly called for schools to rethink the fundamental principles of education itself. He states, convincingly, that we're teaching kids to fear making mistakes, and that fear systematically stifles creativity.

Think about it. A young child of say, four, will often make up the wildest, weirdest answer to a question that baffles. Ask a tough question to a 12-year-old, and the likely answer is "I don' know." Older kids have been taught to not take a chance on an answer that might be wrong; it's "safer" for them to shut down and not try to conjure up an answer.

If the education system focused more on rewarding kids for their strength of character—for overcoming obstacles with relentless dedication—we might be better served. The kids, certainly, would be better served, as the research in the Times piece makes clear. Grit makes good.

Here at Positively Writing we notice the companies, especially in our field of advertising/marketing, who make it a point to state they employ "nice" people. Polite. people. Respectful. This hits home for us (especially the notion of respect), because it speaks to the character of a person, not just his or her experience or college or industry awards. For us, the companies that hire people who will run through he proverbial brick wall are better positioned for long-term success than those who "require" MBA-level job candidates.

We tend to over-dramatize mistakes in business, perhaps because the spectre of money—or potentially losing money/clients—looms. Wouldn't it be more productive, for employees and companies alike, if mistakes were acknowledged as a way of life and we emphasized the value of learning from mistakes . . . and we did not imply that the mistakes had better not happen again?

Answer? Yes it would. We would all be better off long term and we'd be happier, too. Fear of failure can become insidious and can have deeply negative effects on a company's culture and on its employees. We know from painful experience: Going to work in a decidedly negative, threatening environment is a stifling, debilitating experience that makes people feel disrespected.

Our advice to the job seekers out there: Seek out companies with truly collaborative cultures that value the ideas that come from all of their employees—not just the "idea" people. And if the spirit moves, take a run at that proverbial brick wall once in a while; strange as it might sound, it couldn't hurt.

More Proof the "Me" Plan Does Not Work—From Baseball!

We were awed by the drama and excitement of the final day of baseball's regular season: three remarkably dramatic wins that determined playoff teams and, in two of them, historic events that truly defied all logic and probability.

Today, the day after, we read quotes from players reacting to the games. And we were struck—once again, unfortunately—by the self-centered attitudes of these athletes. But upon further review, we realized those selfish thoughts may not be unrelated to losing.

Three Boston players offered shockingly selfish reactions to their loss and, moreover, their team's amazing September collapse. Two were mentioned in Boston Globe sportswriter Dan Shaughnessy's piece today.

Carl Crawford had a chance to prolong last night's game but missed a sliding catch on the game-ending hit; he evaluated the play this way: “If I should have caught it, I could have caught it." 

Huh? 

Putting aside the fact that this may not in fact be English—it certainly isn't coherent thought—Crawford doesn't come close to taking responsibility. Not really my fault, is what he's essentially saying in a disturbingly bizarre way.

Adrian Gonzalez took the "higher" route to irresponsibility: "“God has a plan,’’ he said. “And it wasn’t God’s plan for us to be in the playoffs.’’ Shaughnessy's one- word reaction to this: "Wow." We can't say it any better.

The Globe also reported that 45-year-old pitcher Tim Wakefield, when asked if he would play again next year, said he wanted to come back to break the record for most wins in team history. He said nothing—not one word—about helping the team win.

Hmm. Three key players saying nothing about their roles and responsibilities as teammates . . . and then their team goes out and loses in an epic way. Coincidence? We think not.

Perhaps the most shocking lack of character was shown yesterday by the Mets' Jose Reyes, who asked out of a game in the very first inning so he had a better chance of winning the batting title. Reyes' act is indefensible; his level of arrogance and disrespect, to teammates and fans alike, tells you everything you need to know about him. (The Mets season was marked by rampant losing and organizational disarray.)

When your team includes players who are more focused on individual priorities, your team chemistry suffers. By definition, you're playing as less of a team. 

We won't suggest reasons for the "Me First" approach because there may be societal, economic and personal forces in play here. We will suggest, however, that when you put on a uniform (or join a company of any kind) you might want to think big picture first. Why? It's simple: If the team wins you win. How that could be considered anything but a positive outcome, for the group and for the individuals, escapes us. 

Our Positively Writing view is, always, that you get what you give. So we always strive to do the respectful thing, the selfless thing, and we persevere with positive expectations. Always. And when we witness events that are so unexpected, as we did in these baseball games last night, we feel more justified than ever in our approach.

Baseball as a life lesson? Why not? The universe once again is showing us that by giving we'll all be getting what we want—happiness. 

Simple and satisfying, isn't it?

Sports For Dummies?

We love sports. But watching—and especially listening to—sports broadcasts requires the viewer to accept language that is brutally inaccurate, inappropriate and often just plain dumb. Perhaps this is why European football (aka "soccer," around here) increasingly appeals to us here at Positively Writing. England's Premiership announcers use language more correctly, precisely, and more cleverly than do the announcers of American sports.

It's almost too easy to point out silly announcer errors; the web site Awful Announcing has built a business by doing that. So let's go deeper; why do viewers evidently accept the consistently incorrect use of language during games?

We cite three primary reasons. First, let's turn things around and look not at the announcers, but at the viewers. No need to tense-up sports fans; just keep an open mind.

Many (perhaps most) sports fans are not overly concerned with announcer syntax during games they watch. We would venture that highly precise language might in fact distract viewers. Here's why: Sporting events are decidedly informal gatherings. Alcohol often is consumed; massive amounts of alcohol often are consumed. When that happens, the brain, the nervous system, and general awareness levels are operating on less-than-optimum levels. Larger stimuli will logically make an impact; more subtle stimuli do not.

So if an announcer states "The Cowboys offensive line has three first-time starters, which begs the question . . . " most sub-optimized viewers don't particularly care that "begs the question" is completely misused. They (the Cowboys haters) instead salivate at the thought of their team's defensive-line stunts that will confuse those new starters and KO Tony Romo for another season. Larger stimuli.

The viewers are into the experience, not the framing of the experience with precision language. So the announcers and their networks do not receive negative feedback, even though it is warranted in many, many cases. Hence, thorough elucidation not required.

The second reason: Many announcers are ex-athletes who have not, shall we say, matriculated with particular urgency at their respective institutes of higher learning. The true scholar-athlete—the Bill Bradley or the Pat Haden—is not merely the exception. He is scarce to the point of near non-existence. So we'll not get a seriously studied delivery from the athlete-announcer . . . which fits just fine into the aforementioned "informal" game-time experience.

The third reason language gets abused during sports broadcasts: Language also gets abused in the surrounding media environment (i.e., advertising pre-, during, and post-game). Advertisers are pretty good at targeting their messages, especially those in sports-related broadcasts. They, too, know that informal is better. In this case, informal sells better. So they keep the language loose and focus on monitoring sales, not monitoring Twitter comments about misplaced modifiers in their :30 commercials. If the brand is thriving, the language is acceptable, they seem to be saying.

To be sure, some sports writing is highly competent and technically correct. But it is striking how infrequently we see it; the almost incomprehensible, sheer volume of sports banter across all media channels is staggering, so even if 10% (we're skeptical) is done well, it's swallowed by the typically insipid, bombastic blather of the sporting media landscape.

So it seems we purists might pay more attention to Man United–Chelsea matches that the Yankee–Red Sox games. (For the record we'll restate a recent Tweet of ours: Barcelona's Lionel Messi is approaching a "greatest ever" level, one that may surpass Gretzky, Jordan, Montana and all the rest.) And while we'll always advocate for strong, clear communication, we recognize it's not a high priority for the average sports fan. That's too bad, because we're all for doing the right things, and we view respecting the language as one of those right things.

Final thought sports fans: You win with fundamentals, correct? Well, what could be more fundamental than communicating correctly? As the new NFL season approaches, think about that. Right after you stop thinking about Tony Romo getting sacked again. And again. And again . . .

So to Begin . . .

Have you noticed a dramatic increase in the number of people who use "so" to start a sentence?

We have. And we've unearthed a fair number of articles and blog postings arguing pro and (mostly) con about it. As always, our Positively Writing approach centers on clarity, so (heh-heh) we sit squarely in the "con" camp.

When these article and blog writers address the subject, one thing they don't address is this: People use "so" verbally but almost never in their writing. Why? People seem to readily use other conjunctions to begin sentences when writing; "because," "but," even "and" can be found easily when analyzing writing styles. But not "so."

So why is this (heh-heh)? Our answer is much more direct than most of the theories we've found. In one theory, Anand Giridharadas of the New York Times traces the origins of using the word "so" to start sentences, and its widespread adoption.

So, it is widely believed that the recent ascendancy of "so" began in Silicon Valley. The journalist Michael Lewis picked it up when researching his 1999 book The New New Thing: "When a computer programmer answers a question," he wrote, "he often begins with the word 'so.'" Microsoft employees have long argued that the "so" boom began with them.

This logical tinge to "so" has followed it out of software. Starting a sentence with "so" uses the whiff of logic to relay authority. Where "well" vacillates, "so" declaims.

Our theory: It's become an affectation. It is now, simply, a habit. And a bad one—especially in business—because if the first word of your answer or statement is unnecessary and distracting, you've just moved one step away from clarity. You're complicating, or at the very least, delaying, your thoughts. So by definition (though not in this sentence, because it's drawing a conclusion) you're being less clear than you could be.

Deeper in that Times article, Michael Erard, the author of “Um…: Slips, Stumbles, and Verbal Blunders, and What They Mean” echoes our view when he positions "so" as a new symptom of "our chopped-up and discontinuous communication and conversation."

We further suggest it reflects a struggle to think in an organized way. It tells listeners, I've got an awful lot bouncing around in here, and I'm now going to communicate a thought, but I need to try and reframe first so I'll start with "so." It's a re-grouping mechanism for the speaker—not for the listener. Clearly it's there only as a crutch. In no way does in make the communication better.

Could "so" as a sentence starter become commonplace and, eventually, acceptable? Yes it could, since language evolves. But we at Positively Writing endorse the adoption of new uses of language when they evolve out of necessity or accuracy. Not when they evolve from error.

"So" is not the way to start a sentence. So don't do it (heh-heh) unless you're concluding or perhaps composing poetry. Be direct and you'll be more clear.

Value=Sharing the Wealth AND The Responsibility

Last week a friend asked this question: If you were starting a business, what athlete would you choose first? This wasn't a trick question; it was a question about the characteristics we deemed most important in a key employee.

After telling him I had a few "hazy" options that I couldn't immediately identify, I went with Derek Jeter. I told him that Jeter, along with Don Mattingly, showed more respect for his profession than any other athlete we were privileged to watch. For us, respect is the ultimate driver of business success, especially in the area of relationship building.

The other hazy options did come to us afterwards. And both are, incredibly (give me a moment . . . I'll get this out . . . ) Boston athletes. Bobby Orr and Larry Bird possessed the magical ability to improve the performance of every player around them (a point my friend cited as the trait he considered most valuable).

One statistic demonstrates this better than all others: assists. Orr has the third highest assists-per-game average in NHL history. That his number approaches Gretzky's and Mario's is literally incredible, since he played defense. His physical skills were clearly superior to virtually everyone who ever played hockey on planet earth, but that he used those skills largely to assist others—and not simply to take off on one end-to-end rush after another—proves his value. Others benefited from his skills. Indisputable, in black and white.

Bird? Maybe even more unbelievable. He averaged far more assists than the other two greatest forwards in NBA history, Julius Erving and Karl Malone. His assists were double Malone's, while he averaged virtually identical points and rebound numbers. All three of Bird's numbers outpaced Erving's. Bird's assist number almost matches Lebron James' to this point. And we'd all agree James may be the most freakishly gifted physical specimen in the history of sports; Bird was, umm, not quite that physically gifted.

Yes, Bird was perhaps the most clutch player (Jerry West?) in NBA history, but his ability to set up other players sets him apart.

And a word about all these assists. Let's make the grandiose assumption that after a pass was made, the other player had at least a modicum of work to do before a goal or point was scored. The other player had ultimate responsibility for completing the play successfully. So Orr and Bird weren't merely helping others, they were handing off serious responsibility.

And isn't that a cornerstone of teamwork? Giving each player increasing responsibility, so the player can grow and prosper . . . as the team will, collectively. And isn't that one of the definitions of valuable? (Actually, it is; valuable means, literally, of great use or service.)

So bring your "A Game" guys. And be prepared to outwork the other guys. And then work some more. And never, ever lose your focus on racking up those assists. Because what is one other thing that Jeter, Orr and Bird have in common?

They win.

Communication 101 . . . in 2011

Biggest communication firestorm so far this year? Easy. The Jay Cutler injury diagnosis/character annihilation via Twitter on Sunday. This piece in the Chicago Sun-Times recaps the blizzard of negative comments.

Our Positively Writing view of all this, not surprisingly, is how immediacy of communication increases the need for more thoughtful, precise language. If your thoughts are going to fly around the world as soon as your synapses finish firing, you'd better be accurate.

But several NFL players were decidedly not accurate when they accused Cutler of wimping out without having any—ANY—information about his injury. They couldn't possibly be accurate without medical information. They made judgments based entirely on what they saw. So they made poor judgments.

Cutler was in fact hurt, though by (admittedly surreal) NFL standards not severely. The Twitter squad real-time reacted to Cutler's behavior on the sidelines. And without question he looked uninterested, unenthusiastic, and displayed no sense of leadership. Our Positively Writing opinion is that he absolutely oozed negative energy.

When we write negatively without supporting facts we risk receiving the negative input we send out to others. If just one of the players who blasted Cutler had Tweeted "Don't kno how badly Jay is hurt, but needs to pump up his mates," that Tweeter would be viewed far more positively. So, "you get what you give" applies once again. As ever.

Take a second or two—literally just a couple of seconds—and you're far more likely to create a more thoughtful communication. Don't be a knee-jerk accuser; we seem to have far, far too many of those these days. Focus on facts . . . then integrate those facts into your opinion. Skip the facts and subject yourself to lowered universal opinion.

Your choice.

"There Is No FInish Line"

The American obsession with winning threatens to rob us of a massively important fact: getting to "done" is just as important as actually being done. 

One of our brightest and most insightful friends gave us the five words in our title, above. (Thanks JM.) Those words are amazingly important. Because when we focus on doing, and we stay in the moment, we not only increase the likelihood of performing our task more effectively, we achieve something else that's pretty important.

We're happier. 

It's fact. As reported in a study published in the journal Science, a big predictor of who's happy (and who's not) is how often peoples' minds wander, says study author Matthew Killingsworth, a doctoral candidate in psychology at Harvard University. "The more often they take themselves out of the present moment, the less happy they are."

(A cool additional fact: The researchers used a novel approach to get real-time snapshots of what the 2,250 study participants were thinking and how they felt throughout the day. They developed a free iPhone app that buzzed volunteers, whose average age was 34, several times a day asking them how they were feeling.)

So it's clear. Stay focused and you'll do a better job . . . and you'll do a better job of being happy. And try to start off your day with this in mind: Research also suggests that those who practice a little mindfulness in the morning have a better ability to stay focused throughout the day. 

Remembering to not focus on the end result will enable us to focus better on performing the task. Now, is the end result important? Yes; often vitally important. But the outcome is dictated by the effectiveness of performance. So focusing there—right there—seems like your best bet. Doesn't it.

Now, overlay the happiness benefit. And it doesn't just seem like your best bet. It's your only bet.

We here at Positively Writing are confirmed advocates in approaching every task in a positive way. And we're now just as clear about the importance of appreciating the value of simply performing that task. Our advice: make the "finish line" your second (or third or fourth . . ) priority. Make the moment your first.

Now You're Talkin' . . .

For those of us in the advertising business, The New York Times provides this exceptionally positive start to the year:  After Two Slow Years, an Industry Rebound Begins.

Yes, music to the ears of many of us. But perhaps an even bigger gift is the simple, positive statement about the state of our business . . . rather that a "Good Riddance" story about the exceptionally difficult 2010 (and 2009) business conditions we've endured. 

We here at Positively Writing completely understand the inclination to view things through a negative prism after such an overwhelmingly widespread, difficult period. But here's a great example of focusing on the good to come . . . and not on the bad that's gone.

And that's our short, sweet initial post of 2011 . . .