Don’t tell people what they want to hear. Very often, they don’t want to hear it.

I’ve conducted thousands of interviews in my career. I’ve been a team leader or manager for many years of that career as well. There is a habit that many people have when speaking to anyone in a position of professional authority, whether it’s a hiring manager, a boss, or even a customer. The habit of trying to tell them what you think they want to hear.

It’s a terrible habit. I have a theory about where it comes from; I think we learn it in school. Imagine yourself back in you junior year of high school (nightmarish as the thought may be). Your teacher asks you a question. Your natural instinct is not to think critically about what you believe the answer to be. What’s been drilled into you is that you should be reciting what you’ve already been told the correct answer is.

If your teacher asks you “what were the results of the Stamp Act of 1765,” they’ve definitely already told you at some earlier point what they want to hear in response to this question. If you give the answer that matches what they’re looking for, you’re “correct.” If you say anything else, you’re not.

This is, of course, a ludicrous way to approach the acquisition and application of knowledge. And in the real world, it doesn’t work anything like that.

In the real world, in a professional context, when someone asks you a question it is almost always because they don’t know the answer. It’s almost never a trick or a trap. But time after time, when I interview someone and ask something like “How would you handle a customer that wants a full refund on a package you sold them, but production has already begun,” I can see the wheels turning in their head, the hesitation in their voice, as they try to figure out what I want to hear.

What I want to hear is how they’d handle it!

Here is a huge secret from a hiring manager: If I’m hiring a new marketing associate, and I ask how they’d approach our next marketing campaign, it’s because I don’t know. If I did, I wouldn’t need to hire someone. Hiring managers often have to hire for positions well outside their own particular area of expertise – I’ve hired software engineers and journalists and carpenters. I don’t have any specific expertise in those fields, but I made great hires regardless. Because I do know how to recruit, how to conduct interviews, how to tap industry experts when I need industry-specific knowledge, and how to extract the right information from department heads to build a candidate profile (it’s like pulling teeth from herded cats, by the way, but I get there).

So when a hiring manager asks you a question, don’t worry about having the right answer. If you’re the right person for the job, you ARE the answer, and that will come through if you abandon the idea of trying to sniff out their preconceived “right” response and realize that there isn’t one. Just speak to your expertise, your character, and your intelligence.

Your relationship to your teacher in high school is absolutely not a model you should emulate in your professional career. Knock yourself out of the sheepish fear of getting a “wrong” answer and having points knocked off of an imaginary grade that will never come. Just go in and accomplish something – because I promise you, with all the sincerity in the world, that you can.

Which list do you think is longer: the list of things you’ve tried or the list of things you haven’t?

If you ate a new dish at every meal for the rest of your life, you’d never run out. You could go your whole life and never repeat a meal if you wanted. You could listen to music 24/7/365 for the rest of your life and never repeat a song. You could talk to a different person every day and never come close to talking to everyone.

The world is wonderful like that. There’s nothing wrong with the comfort of the familiar if it makes you happy. I’ve read my favorite book and watched my favorite movie dozens of times each; I’ve listened to my favorite song hundreds of times. I talk to my favorite people every day. (One of them only squeals, giggles, or cries, but it’s great conversation anyway.) Despite the solace we find in the old familiar places, variety is the spice of life.

Variety doesn’t have to be radical. When people hear “try new things,” they often think they’re being pushed to trade their knitting needles for a hang glider, but it can be as simple as trading in your blue yarn for some green one day.

Take your job. You may have had anywhere from a handful to two dozen jobs in your life – out of potentially thousands upon thousands. There might be other things out there that you would enjoy! And hey, maybe you’re great at them, too. Again, I’m not saying that you should quit your job at the law firm and run off and be a dance instructor.

But maybe be a dance instructor one Saturday a month, and see what happens.

Heck, maybe just branch out into a new field of legal work. No matter what your job is – walk into another department and see what they do. Have lunch with them. Read a trade magazine for an industry you’re not in. Just browse; window shop a little.

The worst that can happen is you get a good experience and decide that some new experience isn’t for you after all. The best that can happen is a radical, bright new life takes shape in front of you. Everything on that spectrum is good. So try!

Maybe you’re great!

Yesterday I made my 100th post on The Opportunity Machine.

Neat! Putting my thoughts into public words has been rewarding and I’ve enjoyed it. I have no plans to stop – I think it’s healthy for me. The blog has taken a particular kind of shape, and while I never had any grand designs or plans for exactly what kind of blog this would be, I think it’s taken its shape according to the character of its author.

I definitely think this blog has helped me see the kind of person I want to be. I won’t lie and say that I bare my soul or anything like that here. It’s a public space, and I put my best self forward into it. I share my positive thoughts, the ones I think will be of the greatest help to anyone that might read them.

This blog represents, therefore, a very positive space for me. When I’m thinking about what to write, my thoughts are always in a good, healthy place. Even if there were no other benefit, that alone would be a great reason to continue writing – and reason for me to recommend it to anyone else.

I’ve noticed a few other benefits as well, however. I’ve noticed that I’m more mindful during my days, more attentive to little things that happen around me. I’m always looking for little lessons or anecdotes that can become good blog posts, and that makes me look at things from new angles or be inspired by what might appear to be the mundane. More than once now a co-worker has said something to me and had me say back, “ooh, that’s tomorrow’s blog post…”

It’s also been great as a sort of index of my own thoughts. Often when an idea pops into my head, it’s not at a time when it’s convenient for me to really explore that idea fully. Maybe it’s during a conversation that naturally moves in another direction, or maybe it’s simply while I’m busy with another task. So the seed of an idea will come to me, but it won’t really germinate, instead languishing with a thousand others in the unswept corners of my mind. But here, I can take that idea and really explore it, writing out my thoughts uninterrupted and then bundling them in a package I can find later. In turn, when that idea becomes relevant to another conversation later, I have an easy link to find.

Though the one benefit that I hope for the most is also the one that’s hardest to measure. While this blog has been a great help to me, I also hope it helps someone else, at least a little. No single post or blog will necessarily change someone else’s life, but I hope I’m a positive part of your movement. If you’ve chosen this blog to be a part of your River, I certainly hope I’m part of the push in the best direction for you. Whatever you choose to do in order to be happy, I hope you do a hundred of it, and are deeply satisfied, and keep going.

There’s a time to measure both. But how do you know?

There’s plenty of “folk wisdom” (read: hogwash) to push you towards either side. “The ends justify the means” or “if it works, it ain’t stupid” or any number of other sayings can push you to the idea that only the end result matters, not how you got there. Meanwhile, “one step at a time” and “trust the process” and sayings like those will tell you that you don’t have to worry about the destination at all, just the journey.

Which is the better philosophy?

I’m a big believer in “action goals,” but there’s a HUGE caveat that I’ll get to at the end. When you’re trying to produce tangible results of any kind, whether that’s a personal goal, business product, or anything else with measurable results, in many ways it really is just the end product that counts. Success is measured in those outputs, and people rarely see behind the curtain anyway. So why does the journey itself matter so much, as long as we get where we’re going?

The First Reason: Health. Not just your physical health, but the health of your overall project. Using physical health as an example, though: Let’s say you were 40 pounds overweight, and you drop those 40 pounds. Great, right? But it matters how you got there! If you dropped 40 pounds because you started using cocaine and throwing up your meals, that’s not good. Not only are the negative side effects worse than the positive impact of losing the weight, but even the weight loss isn’t sustainable unless you maintain activities that are killing you. If you have to deliver a software solution for a client, who cares if the code is horrible and you cut corners on process documentation as long as the end result works for the client? No one… until something breaks, and it’s impossible to fix. Outputs are good, but a house of cards always tumbles eventually.

The Second Reason: Scaling. When tinkering with a problem and finding a solution, my father would always ask, “Okay, but can we repeatabilize it?” That funny made-up word carried immediate meaning, though: Is this solution something we can do again, easily? Have we discovered a stable solution to the problem, or have we just slapped duct tape on it? The ability to take a process and scale it up or adapt it to slightly different scenarios is very powerful, and creates a significantly more valuable success than just the one short-term output.

The Third Reason: Sharing. I don’t believe in “secret knowledge.” If I can do something, I want other people to learn it. Most of my career has been centered around sharing techniques in one way or another, and I love doing it. So if I figure out a way to do something that works well, I’m not trying to horde that knowledge. The world gets better as we learn from each other. But in order to share my knowledge of how to solve a particular problem, I have to actually know how I solved it. That introspection is key.

Those are my big three reasons why I care deeply about the “how” and not just the end result. It can be easy to mock buzzwords like “metrics” and “KPIs” but they’re important. As long as…

(Here’s the aforementioned HUGE caveat!)

…you know that they actually get you where you want to go.

When you’re setting Action Goals, I subscribe to the idea that it’s best to decide the steps that take you towards your goal, but then ignore the end goal and focus on the individual steps. But that only works if the steps are correct! If I say, “I want to lose 40 pounds, so every day I’m going to drink a chocolate milkshake,” then focusing on the action steps isn’t going to get me where I want to go. I’ve set bad steps.

You do have to start with the goal in mind, and you have to do your homework – serious consideration of how you can break that action goal down into real steps that will get you there. You have to have reasonable confidence, either from your own experience or consulting with experts, that your steps will get you to your goal.

Here’s the nice thing: If you succeed once, and you cared about the process, then you have information that will give you even better action steps next time. You’ll have an iterative process that can improve over time. But if you have no idea how you got there, then… well, then you can’t repeatabilize your success.

I heard some interesting advice today: “When you’re evaluating reviews, ignore anything that’s 1 or 5 stars. Read the 2-, 3- and 4-star reviews.”

I think that’s good advice. 1- and 5-star reviews tend to be impulsive; they can often be the result of a single positive or negative interaction (at best; at worst they’re just fake). But those middle-star comments are much more likely to be thoughtful and considered.

We’re all prone to hyperbole, which makes us exaggerate our interactions to the extreme. Was a slightly cold coffee in an otherwise pleasant setting at a fair price REALLY worth a 1-star review? There’s nothing else that could have been worse? Likewise, the cashier smiled pleasantly at me when handing me my change – worth five stars? No room for improvement at all?

Compounding this problem is the fact that there’s no universally-accepted definition of those kinds of ratings. For some people, 5-stars is the default; that’s what you get if you do your job competently and I don’t have any complaints. For others, the default is the middle – 3 – and you work your way up or down from there with your actions. But since no one discusses, much less agrees to, a universal standard, many star-rated reviews are meaningless. Certainly it’s meaningless to average them.

So most ratings are useless, but at least a 2-4 star rating with a comment is less likely to be hyperbole-driven and contain some mix of pros and cons. So if you really want to know what it’s like to buy a product or work for a company, those are good ones to check out.

And there’s a larger lesson – be wary of people with extreme claims, in either direction, on any topic. Pay more attention to the middle.

Too much to do is better than too little.

Naturally, it’s good to strike a balance. But if you’re not sure what that balance is yet, I think it’s better to push the envelope a little. You are capable of amazing things, and often the only thing standing in your way is doubt.

Given half a second to think about it, your brain will prioritize a safer, more risk-averse path for you. Don’t jump – you won’t make it. Don’t try – you might fail. Don’t reach – you’ll get burned.

So say yes. Commit, then figure it out. Agree, plan, execute.

If you find you’ve taken too much onto your plate, you can pare it back later, but you’ll have the benefit of knowing which things you’re doing hold the most value to you. Which ones make you money or make you happy or both, which ones move you forward and which don’t. And you might find that some of those things hold deep satisfaction for you, and you wouldn’t have known if you were afraid to say yes in the first place.

As a general rule, if saying “yes” to something isn’t going to put you on the hook for more than a few months, it’s fine to dive in. Don’t be hasty to commit yourself to something that will be multiple years, but what’s the worst that happens if you take a six-month internship? Go for it!

Agree, plan, execute. You are capable of amazing things.

Whenever someone says, “I’m trying to do X, but it’s not going very well,” I cringe a little.

While it is possible to try your best at something and still fail, the reality is that 99% of the time, failure doesn’t come from you “trying your best.” It comes from something being in the way of your success – and that “something” might be you.

In order for any attempt to count as “trying your best,” it has to include an honest, deep assessment of what things are causing you to fail and what you’re doing to remove those obstacles.

Here’s an example: “I’m trying to watch what I eat, but I keep failing.” When pressed for details, the person says “Well, I’ve been eating mostly healthy vegetables and proteins, but then when I get stressed out I eat brownies.” Well… why do you have brownies in your desk drawer at work? “For when I get stressed out.”

Okay, that’s no longer you trying your best, then. Trying your best would include recognizing that you’ve sabotaged yourself and throwing away the snacks. It probably also includes an assessment of what things cause you to stress and how to decrease the impact of those things. (Incidentally, this is further proof that self-improvement in one area isn’t done in a vacuum. Improving one area of your life will almost always improve other areas both as a consequence and a necessary condition. A rising tide lifts all boats.)

“Trying your best” also has to include changes to strategies that aren’t working. “I’ve been trying to get a promotion at work for two years, but it hasn’t happened.” What have you done? “Every time there’s a management position open, I apply to it.” Okay, but since the first time you did that, what have you changed about your work habits or activities? “I show up to work every day and I do my job.” Okay… so, nothing. You applied for a management position two years ago and two months ago, but nothing has changed about you in between. Why would you expect a different outcome?

If you’re not taking a serious look at the things you’re doing that prevent you from succeeding, you’re not trying. And if you do take a look at those things and fix them, you may find that you don’t need to try at all… you just Do.

I hate waiting.

I’m a planner and a doer, but I’m horrible at being patient. I need activity; tangible movement towards my goal. I’m fine with a goal taking ten years to accomplish, as long as I’m actively doing something every day of those ten years.

I am really, really bad at stopping to smell the roses.

When I was a young man, somewhere between ten and twelve years old, my father taught me how to mow the lawn, trim the edges, pull the weeds and just generally do the landscaping in the summer. A vital part of the process, according to him, was pulling out a lawn chair when you were done, and sitting in it with a glass of lemonade and looking at the lawn for a while. I asked him why it was so important to do that. His initial joking answer was “so you can see all the spots you missed,” but his more serious answer was that it was important to take time to reward yourself for the hard work you did by enjoying what you worked for.

That was the part I was worst at. I enjoyed mowing the lawn; I could put headphones in, listen to music and let my mind wander while I did the relatively simple task more or less on auto-pilot. But when it was over, I wanted to be on to something else. I didn’t want to linger.

I’m the kind of person that always has something cooking. There’s always a dozen project ideas eager to fill in any spare gaps in my schedule. I have children that it’s easy (and fun!) to lose hours with as they laugh and climb on me. I put a lot of hours into work ambitions. I honestly can’t remember a time in the past twenty years when I didn’t have anything to do. I don’t remember the last time I was bored.

But I also don’t remember the last time I stood still for more than five minutes. I tried meditating recently and failed miserably. I don’t relax well. If you need a more clear picture, just know that I feel deeply and personally attacked by the following comic:

Hahahaaaaaaaaaa.

Anyway, I haven’t given up. I always try to maintain a student mentality; I live to learn. I’m very open to suggestions and ideas on how to better enable myself to step back and relax now and then. So if you’ve got them, please share!

Don’t you disrespect me little girl!
Don’t you make me scowl or sneer or frown!
You’re in my world now,
Not your world!
And I got friends in the Upside Down!
(He’s got friends in the Upside Down!)

That’s an echo, kids.
Just a little something we have here in
Indiana, a little advanced lesson. Don’t worry…

I cruise in my Camaro
To see Ted Wheeler’s wife
But if you run around the pool then you will get banned for life.
Then I got my mind flayed,
I can flay some others’, too
I’ll help build a monster out of meat,
(you know I can see you, right Eleven?)
‘Cause he built this all for you!

Rats pop – juicy!
I got Busey!
I got slaves all over this town!
And I got friends in the Upside Down!

(I am so, so sorry. Once this idea popped into my head I couldn’t get it out, and the only way to alleviate my suffering was to inflict it on you.)

You can see a lot of love and care in how someone argues with you.

Let’s say you just had a birthday, and your significant other didn’t do anything for it. Maybe they forgot entirely; maybe they just didn’t think birthdays are a big deal. Not important. So you approach your significant other and say, “Hey, my birthday came and went without you really acknowledging it, and that made me feel upset and neglected.”

Now, let’s say your significant other doesn’t take this well, and it starts an argument. They go immediately into “fight mode” and emotions get hot. Surely not ideal; you’d rather they respond in a calm way, but hey – we’re humans. That doesn’t always happen. But even so, HOW the heated argument begins can tell you a lot. Consider these two potential responses:

A: “Well, you forgot to celebrate my work anniversary earlier this year, and that really meant a lot to me because it represented an actual accomplishment, and you didn’t even acknowledge it. So you’re the jerk here, not me.”

B: “I did so acknowledge it! I made you your favorite dinner and then I did the dishes myself, even though we always do I cook/you clean. I didn’t get you balloons and a cake because I didn’t realize you’re a child, but that’s not the same as me ignoring it.”

These are both argumentative responses, obviously. And some people might look at them and not see much difference. But honestly, I see a world of difference between the two, and I’d always rather be on the receiving end of “B.”

Why? In the “A” response, the other person is immediately dismissive of my reason for being upset. They don’t even hear it. The just immediately launch into a separate thing that I’ve done that was worse. That’s a terrible way to bridge a gap. That’s what a negative emotion is – a gap between two people. Responding like “A” is aiming a north pole of a magnet at another north pole of a magnet: it pushes them away from one another. That line of argument just leads to a game of one-upsmanship where you’re each trying to call the other person a bigger and bigger jerk so you can be the one to justifiably be mad. It doesn’t show respect for the other person or their concerns.

Now, look at “B.” Yes, it’s argumentative. But at least the argument implicitly respects the other person’s concerns as valid. “A” says “I perfectly admit that I did the bad thing, but I don’t apologize or care.” “B” says “I agree that you’d be right to be upset if I did that thing; that’s a valid concern and a valid emotion to feel about it. Rather, I dispute the facts of the specific case.” There’s a line there that leads to closing the gap and bonding rather than pushing away.

If you’re holding old slights to use as fodder for “A”-style arguments, I encourage you to resolve them independently. Either let them go (if they’re minor) or talk them out (if they’re not). But don’t sit on them until the next time you make a mistake (which we all, all, ALL do). Because when someone you care about comes to you with a pain in their heart, you want yours to be clear, so you can really hear them. Sometimes things may get heated or emotional, but let that heat and that emotion come from a place of love, from pulling together and working on things, rather than having it be ammunition. We’re only human.