Month: July 2004

Self-discipline

Effective people are self-disciplined. They work both hard and smart, in the belief that you reap what you sow. How does one achieve such self-discipline? It’s a difficult problem. Wayne Bennett, one of the most successful coaches in the history of the sport of Rugby League, sums the problem up well when he says “I’ve had more trouble with myself than any other man I’ve ever met”.

It is a tempting but ultimately counterproductive fallacy to believe that self-discipline is merely a matter of will, of deciding what it is that you want to do, and then doing it. Many other factors affect self-discipline, and it’s important to understand those other factors. Furthermore, if you believe that it’s all a matter of willpower then you’re likely to get rather depressed when you fall short, sapping your confidenc, and resulting in less disciplined behaviour.

I now describe three factors important in achieving self-discipline.

The first factor is having clarity about what one wants to achieve, why one wants to achieve it, and how to go about achieving it. It’s easy to work hard if you’re clear about these three things, and you’re excited about what you’re doing. Conversely, I think the main cause of aimlessness and procrastination is when you lack clarity on one or more of these points.

The second factor affecting self-discipline is one’s social environment. Researchers are typically under little immediate social pressure to produce research results. Contrast this with the example of professional athletes, who often have an entire support system of coaches, managers and trainers in place, focused around the task of increasing their effectiveness. When a researcher stays out late, sleeps in, and gets a late start, no-one minds; when a professional athlete does, they’re likely to receive a blast from their coach.

Access to a social environment which encourages and supports the development of research skills and research excellence can make an enormous difference to all aspect of one’s research, including self-discipline. The key is to be accountable to other people. Some simple ways of achieving such accountability are to take on students, to collaborate with colleagues, or to set up mentoring relationships with colleagues.

The third factor affecting self-discipline is a special kind of honesty, honesty to oneself, about oneself. It’s extremely easy to kid ourselves about what we do and who we are. A colleague once told me of a friend of his who for some time used a stopwatch to keep track of how much research work he did each week. He was shocked to discover that after factoring in all the other activities he engaged in each day – interruptions, email, surfing the net, the phone, fruitless meetings, chatting with friends, and so on – he was averaging only half an hour of research per day. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was typical of many researchers. The good news, of course, is that building this kind of awareness lays the foundation for personal change, for achieving congruence between our behavioural goals and how we actually behave, in short, for achieving self-discipline.

Note: This essay is part of a longer essay series, but you don’t need to have read the earlier essays for this one to make sense.

Vision

Effective people have a vision of what they’d like to achieve. Ideally, such a vision incorporates both long-term values and goals, as well as shorter-term goals. A good vision answers questions like: What sort of researcher would I like to become? What areas of research am I interested in? How am I going to achieve competence in those areas? Why are those areas interesting? How am I going to continue growing and expanding my horizons? What short-term steps will I take to achieve those goals? How will I balance the long-term goals with the short-term realities of the situation I find myself in? For example, if you’re in a temporary job and need to get another job soon, it’s probably not such a great idea to devote all your time to learning some new subject, without any visible outcome.

A vision is not something you develop overnight. You need to work at it, putting time aside for the process, and learning to integrate it into your everyday life. It’s a challenging process, but over the long run it’s also extremely rewarding. History shows that great actions usually are the outcome of great purpose, even if the action that resulted was not the original purpose. Your vision doesn’t always need to be of a great purpose; it’s good to work on the little stuff, some of the time. But you should occasionally set yourself some big, ambitious goal, a goal that gets you excited, that makes you want to get up in the morning, and where you’ve developed a confidence in your own mind that you have a chance of achieving that goal. Such a great purpose inspires in a way that the humdrum cannot; it makes things exciting and worthwhile if you feel you’re working towards some genuinely worthy end. I believe this is particularly important in the more abstract parts of research (like theoretical physics), where it can require some work to make a personal, emotional connection to one’s own research. Having a clear vision of a great end is one very good way of making such a connection. When you don’t do this, you can get stuck in the rut of the everyday; you need to get out of that rut, to develop a bigger vision.

Finally, a good vision is not inflexible. It’s something that gets changed as you go along, never lightly, but frequently. The importance of having the vision is that it informs your everyday and every week decisions, giving you a genuinely exciting goal to work towards.

The Great Barrier Reef, by the way, is awesome. One of a short list of wonders of the world that I’ve seen, along with Milford Sound, Yosemite Valley, and the Grand Canyon.

The Daintree Rainforest is pretty amazing, also. There’s not many places where you can stand on a beautiful beach, with the world’s oldest rainforest on one side, beautiful mist-covered hills looming above you, and with coral reef on your other side.

All in all, a very good trip.

Principles of personal behaviour: proactivity, vision, and discipline

I believe that the foundation of effective research is to internalize a strong vision of what you want to achieve, to work proactively towards that vision, taking personal responsibility for successes and failures. You need to develop disciplined work habits, and to achieve balance between self-development and the actual creative research process.

Proactivity and personal responsibility

Effective people are proactive and take personal responsibility for the events in their lives. They form a vision of how they want their life to be, and work toward achieving that vision. They identify problems in their lives, and work toward solutions to those problems.

Isn’t this obvious, banal advice? I heard a story years ago in which a representative from McDonald’s was asked what gave McDonald’s the edge in the fast food industry. They replied that McDonald’s took care of the little things, like making sure that their restaurants and surrounds were always extremely clean. Representatives of other fast food companies replied incredulously that surely that was not the reason McDonald’s did so well, for “anyone could do that”. “But only McDonald’s does” was the response. The heart of personal effectiveness is not necessarily any special knowledge or secret: it is doing the basics consistently well.

When it comes to proactivity and responsibility, it seems to be incredibly difficult to internalize these principles and act on them consistently. Almost everyone says and thinks they are proactive and responsible, but how many of us truly respond to the force of external circumstance in the most proactive manner?

My belief is that the reason it is difficult to be consistently proactive and responsible is that over the short term it is often significantly easier to abdicate responsibility and behave in a reactive fashion. In my opinion, there are three basic ways this can occur.

The first way is to blame external circumstances for our problems. “We don’t have enough grant money.” “I have to teach too much.” “My supervisor is no good.” “My students are no good.” “I don’t have enough time for research.” When challenged on what actions we are taking to rectify the situation, we will claim that it’s the fault of other people, or of circumstances beyond our control, relieving ourselves of the burden of doing anything to solve the problem.

In short, we abdicate responsibility, preferring to blame others. This is easier over the short term, since it’s easier to complain than it is to take action, but is not a recipe for long-term happiness or effectiveness. Furthermore, we will usually deny that it is within our power to take actions to improve our situation. After all, if it was in our power, it would be us who is responsible, and our entire worldview is based upon blaming others for our own problems.

The second way of abdicating responsibility is to get caught up in displacement activities. These may give us a short-term fix, especially if they win us the approbation of other people, perhaps for responding to requests that they label urgent. Over the long run such displacement activities are ultimately unfulfilling, representing time lost from our lives.

The third way of abdicating responsibility is by getting down on yourself, worrying and feeling bad for not overcoming one’s difficulties. Winston Churchill spoke of the “black dog” of depression that overtook him during times when his political career was in eclipse. Personally, I sometimes get really down when things are not going well, and get caught up in a cycle of worry and analysis, without constructively addressing my problems. Of course, the right way to respond to a bad situation is not to beat yourself up, but rather to admit that, yes, things are going badly, to figure out exactly what problems you are facing, write out possible solutions, prioritize and implement them, without getting too worried or hamstrung by the whole process.

Why are these three options so attractive? Why do we so often choose to respond in this way to the challenges of life rather than taking things on with a proactive attitude that acknowledges that we’re responsible for our own life? What all three options share in common is that over the short-term abdicating responsibility for our problems is easier than taking responsibility for meeting the challenges of life.

A specific example that I believe speaks to many of us is when we’re having some sort of difficulty or conflict with another person. How many of us put off confronting the problem, preferring instead to hope that the problem will resolve itself? Yet, properly managed – a difficult thing to do, most likely requiring considerable preparation and aforethought – it’s nearly always better to talk with the person about the problem until you arrive at a mutual understanding of both your points of view, both sets of interests, and can resolve the issue on a basis of shared trust.

How can we learn to become proactive? I don’t know of any easy way. One powerful way is to be inspired by examples of proactive people. This can either be through direct personal contact, or indirectly through biographies, history, movies and so on. I like to set aside regular time for such activities. Another powerful tool for learning proactivity is to remind ourselves regularly of the costs and benefits of proactivity and responsibility versus reactivity and irresponsibility. These costs and benefits are easy to forget, unless you’re constantly being reminded that complaints, self-doubt, blame of others and of self are actually the easy short-term way out, and that chances are that you can construct a better life for yourself, at the cost of needing to do some hard work over the short term.

In the context of research, this means constantly reminding yourself that you are the person ultimately responsible for your research effectiveness. Not the institution you find yourself in. Not your colleagues, or supervisor. Not the society you are living in. All these things influence your research career, and may be either a help or a hindrance (more on that later), but in the final analysis if things are not working well it is up to you to take charge and
change them.

This is Part I of a lengthy (about 10,000 words) essay that I intend to post in parts over the next couple of weeks. I’ve tried to make the different parts more or less independent, so they can also be read separately as shorter essays (or blog posts!) At the end, I’ll repost it in a pdf format, where it comes to about 10 pages.

Overview

This essay is intended as a letter to both myself and others, to hold up in the sharpest possible terms an ideal of research I believe is worth working toward. I’ve deliberately limited the essay to 10 pages, hoping that the resulting omissions are compensated by the forced brevity. This is a rather personal essay; it’s not the sort of thing I’d usually make publicly available. I’ve made the essay public in order to heighten my commitment to the project, and in the hope that other people will find it stimulating, and perhaps offer some thoughts of their own.

A few words of warning. My primary audience is myself, and some of the advice is specific to my career situation [*], and therefore may not be directly applicable to others. And, of course, it’s all just my opinion anyway. I hope, however, that it’ll still be stimulating and helpful.

[*] I’m a theoretical physicist; I lead a small research group at a large Australian University; I have a permanent position, with no teaching duties for the next few years; I have several colleagues on the faculty with closely related interests.

The philosophy underlying the essay is based on a famous quote attributed to Aristotle: “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.” Underlying all our habits are models (often unconscious) of how the world works. I’m writing this essay to develop an improved personal model of how to be an effective researcher, a model that can be used as the basis for concrete actions leading to the development of new habits.

Fundamental principles

The fundamental principles of effective research are extremely similar to those for effectiveness in any other part of life. Although the principles are common sense, that doesn’t mean they’re common practice, nor does it mean that they’re easy to internalize. Personally, I find it a constant battle to act in accord with these principles, a battle requiring ongoing reflection, rediscovery and renewed commitment.

Integrating research into the rest of your life

Research is, of course, only a part of life, and must be understood in relation to the rest of life. The foundation of effective research is a strong motivation or desire to do research. If research is not incredibly exciting, rewarding and enjoyable, at least some of the time, then why not do something else that is? For the purposes of this essay, I’ll assume that you already have a strong desire to do research [*].

[*] People sometimes act or talk as though desire and motivation cannot be changed. Within limits, I think that’s wrong, and we can mold our own motivations. But that’s a subject for another essay.

Motivation and desire alone are not enough. You also need to have the rest of your life in order to be an effective researcher. Make sure you’re fit. Look after your health. Spend high quality time with your family. Have fun. These things require a lot of thought and effort to get right. If you don’t get them right, not only will your life as a whole be less good, your research will suffer. So get these things right, and make sure they’re integrated with your research life.

As an example, I once spent three years co-authoring a technical book, and for the final eighteen months I concentrated on the book almost exclusively, to the neglect of my health, relationships, and other research. It is tempting to ask the question “Was the neglect worth the benefits?” But that is the wrong question, for while the neglect paid short-term dividends in increased productivity, over the total period of writing the book I believe it probably cost me productivity, and it certainly did after the book was complete. So not only did I become less fit and healthy, and see my relationships suffer, the book took longer to complete than if I’d had my life in better order.