Smarter Faster Better: The Secrets of Being Productive in Life and Business

by Charles Duhigg

  • Motivation becomes easier when we transform a chore into a choice. Doing so gives us a sense of control.

  On any given day, for instance, I had—let’s say—at least about fifty emails that needed responses. Every evening, I would resolve to sit down at my computer and deal with them as soon as dinner was over. And, every evening, I would find ways to procrastinate—by reading the kids one more story, or cleaning up the living room, or checking Facebook—in order to avoid the drudgery of typing response after response. Or, I would sweep through my in-box, hitting the reply key again and again, and then, confronted with a screen full of responses awaiting my words, feel overwhelmed.

  General Krulak had told me something that stuck with me: “Most recruits don’t know how to force themselves to start something hard. But if we can train them to take the first step by doing something that makes them feel in charge, it’s easier to keep going.”

  I realized that Krulak’s insight could help me motivate. And so one night, after putting the kids to bed, I sat at my laptop and hit the reply button, creating a series of responses. Then, as fast as I could, I typed a sentence within each email—any sentence at all—to get me going. For instance, a co-worker sent a note asking if I could join him at a meeting. I had put off replying because I didn’t want to attend. I knew the meeting would be long and boring. But I couldn’t completely ignore him. So I wrote one sentence in my response:

  I can attend, but I’ll need to leave after twenty minutes.

  I went through two dozen replies just like that, writing a short sentence in each one, hardly thinking about it. And then, I went back and filled in the rest of each email:

  Hey Jim,

  Sure, I can attend, but I’ll need to leave after twenty minutes.

  I hope that’s okay.

  Thanks,

  Charles

  I noticed two things: First, it was much easier to reply to an email once I had at least one sentence on the screen. Second, and more important, it was easier to get motivated when that first sentence was something that made me feel in control. When I told Jim that I could only stay for twenty minutes, it reminded me that I didn’t have to commit to his project if I didn’t want to. When I drafted a reply to someone asking me to come speak at a conference, I began by typing:

  I would like to leave on Tuesday and be back in New York by Thursday night.

  Which reinforced that I was in control of whether I attended or not.

  Put differently, as I typed a series of short replies, each reminded me that I was in control of the choices being put before me. (As a psychologist might say, I used those sentences to amplify my internal locus of control.) Within thirty-five minutes, I had cleared out my in-box.

  But what about other kinds of procrastination? What about when you’re confronting a bigger, more involved task, like writing a long memo or having a hard conversation with a colleague? What if there isn’t an easy way to prove to yourself that you’re in control? For those, I remember the other key lesson from the motivation chapter:

  • Self-motivation becomes easier when we see our choices as affirmations of our deeper values and goals.

  That’s why Marine Corps recruits ask each other “why”: “Why are you climbing this mountain?”, “Why are you missing the birth of your daughter?”, “Why are you cleaning a mess hall, or doing push-ups, or running onto a battlefield when there are safer, easier ways to live?” Forcing ourselves to explain why we are doing something helps us remember that this chore is a step along a longer path, and that by choosing to take that journey, we are getting closer to more meaningful objectives.

  To motivate myself to read studies on airplanes, for instance, I began writing at the top of each manuscript why it was important for me to get that task done. When I pulled a study out of my bag, then, it became a little easier to dive in. Something as simple as jotting down a couple of reasons why I am doing something makes it much simpler to start.

  Motivation is triggered by making choices that demonstrate (to ourselves) that we are in control—and that we are moving toward goals that are meaningful. It’s that feeling of self-determination that gets us going.

  TO GENERATE MOTIVATION

  • Make a choice that puts you in control. If you’re replying to emails, write an initial sentence that expresses an opinion or decision. If you need to have a hard conversation, decide where it will occur ahead of time. The specific choice itself matters less in sparking motivation than the assertion of control.

  • Figure out how this task is connected to something you care about. Explain to yourself why this chore will help you get closer to a meaningful goal. Explain why this matters—and then, you’ll find it easier to start.

  GOAL SETTING

  Simply figuring out how to motivate myself wasn’t always enough, however. Writing a book is a big goal—too big, in many ways, to grasp the entirety of it at first. In trying to figure out how to wrap my head around the objective, I was helped enormously by the reporting I conducted regarding goal setting. The big takeaway was that I needed two kinds of aims:

  • I needed a stretch goal, something to spark big ambitions.

  • AND I needed a SMART goal, to help me form a concrete plan.

  One of the most effective ways to formulate both objectives, experts told me, is through a specific kind of to-do list. I needed to write out my goals—but in a way that forced me to identify my stretch objectives and my SMART aims. So I began writing to-do lists, and at the top of each one, I wrote my overarching ambition, what I was working toward in the long term. (That helped me avoid the need for cognitive closure that can force us to become obsessed with short-term, easy-to-achieve goals.) And then underneath, I described a subgoal and all its SMART components, which forced me to come up with a plan—which, in turn, made it more likely that all my goals would be achieved.

  One of my stretch goals in reporting this book, for instance, was to find a story that illustrated how mental models worked. I knew that aviation experts felt that mental models played an important role in how pilots responded to emergencies, and so, at the top of my to-do list for this chapter, I wrote:

  Then, below that stretch goal, I wrote my SMART goals related to that big ambition:

  In case that’s hard to read, here’s what I wrote:

  Stretch: Find an aviation story (a narrowly averted crash?) that demonstrates mental models.

  Specific: Locate an aviation expert by researching academic papers on Google Scholar.

  Measurable: Call four experts each morning until I find the right person/story.

  Achievable: Clear my morning schedule to focus on this task, and turn off email from 9:00 to 11:30.

  Realistic: On Monday, spend an hour researching aviation experts and creating a call list; rank those experts and, by 10:15, begin my four calls of the day. At the end of each conversation, ask them to recommend other experts to call.

  Timeline: If I do four calls a day, then I should have made at least sixteen calls by Thursday. If I haven’t found the perfect story by Thursday, I’ll come up with a new plan. If I do find the right story, I’ll send a synopsis to my editor on Friday.

  It took only a few minutes to jot down these stretch and SMART goals—but it made a huge difference in how much I got done that week. Now I create a similar to-do list for every big task—and as a result, I know exactly what to do when I sit at my desk each morning. Instead of having to make decisions—and running the risks of distraction—I have a clear sense of how to proceed.

  In addition, because I’m always being reminded of my stretch goal, I don’t get easily sidetracked, or captured by the need to simply check things off of my list. As scientists might say, I’ve muted my craving for cognitive closure. I don’t stop working merely because I had a good interview, or because I found a helpful study, or because I found an interesting narrative that might go in the book. Instead, I’m always reminded that I’m chasing SMART goals for a bigger reason: to find the perfect story,
or finish a chapter, or write a book. In fact, I have a whole series of stretch goals to remind me of my grander ambitions:

  TO SET GOALS:

  • Choose a stretch goal: an ambition that reflects your biggest aspirations.

  • Then, break that into subgoals and develop SMART objectives.

  FOCUS

  This being real life, however, there are always distractions and other demands competing for my attention. And so, in addition to having a plan, I needed to work on maintaining my focus. There’s a key insight from the chapter about the averted aviation disaster of Qantas Flight 32 that I have tried to keep in mind:

  • We aid our focus by building mental models—telling ourselves stories—about what we expect to see.

  To make sure I stayed focused on my stretch and SMART goals, I had to envision what I expected to happen when I sat down at my desk each morning. And so, every Sunday night, I got into a habit of taking a few moments with a pad and pen to imagine what the next day and week ought to look like. I usually chose three or four things I wanted to make sure happened, and made myself answer a series of questions:

  It typically takes only a few minutes to envision what I hope will occur. But by the end of this exercise, I have a story in my mind—a mental model of how my morning should proceed—and, as a result, when distractions inevitably arise, it’s easier to decide, in the moment, whether they deserve my focus or can be ignored.

  If my email account says there are thirty new messages, I know that I should ignore them until 11:30, because that’s what the story inside my head tells me to do. If the phone rings and caller ID indicates it’s an expert I’m trying to contact, I’ll take the call, because that interruption has a place within my mental model.

  I have a stretch goal and a SMART goal that give me a plan—and a picture inside my head of how that plan is supposed to unfold, so making the choices that shape focus is much easier.

  TO STAY FOCUSED:

  • Envision what will happen. What will occur first? What are potential obstacles? How will you preempt them? Telling yourself a story about what you expect to occur makes it easier to decide where your focus should go when your plan encounters real life.

  DECISION MAKING

  I had worked on coming up with stretch goals and SMART objectives. I had a mental model to stay focused. I had found ways to improve my motivation. Despite all that, however, every so often something came along that would blow my well-crafted intentions apart. Sometimes it was small, like my wife asking if I wanted to get lunch together. Sometimes it was big, like an editor asking me to take on an exciting, but unplanned, assignment.

  So how should I make a decision when confronted with the unexpected? Perhaps there was a valuable insight in the chapter on probabilistic thinking:

  • Envision multiple futures, and then force myself to figure out which ones are most likely—and why.

  For a simple decision like whether I should meet my wife for lunch, the calculus is easy: In one potential future, I take an hour for lunch and come back happy and relaxed. In another, lunch goes long and we spend most of it discussing family logistics and babysitter problems, and when I get back to my desk I’m fried—and behind schedule.

  By thinking through potential futures, I was better prepared to influence which of those futures would actually occur. When choosing a restaurant to meet my wife, for instance, I suggested one close to my office so I could make it back to my desk quickly. When family logistics came up during lunch, I asked my wife to wait until that evening to talk calendars. By anticipating the future, I was better prepared to make wiser decisions.

  But bigger decisions—such as whether to take on an exciting new writing assignment—require a bit more analysis. Midway through writing this book, for instance, a production company asked if I was interested in developing a TV show. To decide if I should pursue that opportunity—which would delay my reporting, but might pay off in the long run—I wrote out a few potential futures of what might happen if I worked on writing a show:

  I had no idea how to evaluate these potential futures. I knew there were dozens of other possibilities I should be considering but couldn’t anticipate. And so I called some friends in television. Based on those conversations, I assigned each scenario a rough probability:

  Based on the estimations of professionals, it seemed most possible that if I invested a lot of time, it wasn’t likely to pay off. But if I invested a modest amount of time, there was a likelihood I would learn something, if nothing else.

  At that point, I wanted to let my Bayesian instincts guide me, and so I spent a few days letting my imagination play with various outcomes. In the end, I decided that there was another potential future I was ignoring: That even if this show never materialized, I might have a lot of fun. So I decided to commit—but I specified, up front, that I wanted my participation to be modest.

  It was a great decision. All told, my involvement in the project was small—probably the equivalent of two weeks. But the payoffs have exceeded my expectations. The show will premiere this fall and I’ve learned a lot working on it.

  What’s most important, however, is that I made this decision in a deliberate way. Because I had anticipated various possibilities about what might occur—and, in fact, had drawn up some stretch and SMART goals before joining the project—I was able to manage my involvement.

  TO MAKE BETTER DECISIONS:

  • Envision multiple futures. By pushing yourself to imagine various possibilities—some of which might be contradictory—you’re better equipped to make wise choices.

  • We can hone our Bayesian instincts by seeking out different experiences, perspectives, and other people’s ideas. By finding information and then letting ourselves sit with it, options become clearer.

  THE BIG IDEA

  This appendix offers a quick overview of a few key concepts that have been meaningful in my own day-to-day life. If you can become more motivated, more focused, better at setting goals and making good decisions, then you’re a long way down the path to becoming more productive. There are, of course, other ideas in this book that also help when we are managing other people, when we are trying to learn faster, when we need to innovate faster. Each of those areas of productivity have their own insights, as well:

  TO MAKE TEAMS MORE EFFECTIVE:

  • Manage the how, not the who of teams. Psychological safety emerges when everyone feels like they can speak in roughly equal measure and when teammates show they are sensitive to how each other feel.

  • If you are leading a team, think about the message your choices reveal. Are you encouraging equality in speaking, or rewarding the loudest people? Are you showing you are listening by repeating what people say and replying to questions and thoughts? Are you demonstrating sensitivity by reacting when someone seems upset or flustered? Are you showcasing that sensitivity, so other people will follow your lead?

  TO MANAGE OTHERS PRODUCTIVELY:

  • Lean and agile management techniques tell us employees work smarter and better when they believe they have more decisionmaking authority and when they believe their colleagues are committed to their success.

  • By pushing decision making to whoever is closest to a problem, managers take advantage of everyone’s expertise and unlock innovation.

  • A sense of control can fuel motivation, but for that drive to produce insights and solutions, people need to know their suggestions won’t be ignored and that their mistakes won’t be held against them.

  TO ENCOURAGE INNOVATION:

  • Creativity often emerges by combining old ideas in new ways—and “innovation brokers” are key. To become a broker yourself and encourage brokerage within your organization:

  • Be sensitive to your own experiences. Paying attention to how things make you think and feel is how we distinguish clichés from real insights. Study your own emotional reactions.

  • Recognize that the stress that emerges amid the creative process isn’t a sign everythi
ng is falling apart. Rather, creative desperation is often critical: Anxiety can be what often pushes us to see old ideas in new ways.

  • Finally, remember that the relief accompanying a creative breakthrough, while sweet, can also blind us to alternatives. By forcing ourselves to critique what we’ve already done, by making ourselves look at it from different perspectives, by giving new authority to someone who didn’t have it before, we retain clear eyes.

  TO ABSORB DATA BETTER:

  • When we encounter new information, we should force ourselves to do something with it. Write yourself a note explaining what you just learned, or figure out a small way to test an idea, or graph a series of data points onto a piece of paper, or force yourself to explain an idea to a friend. Every choice we make in life is an experiment—the trick is getting ourselves to see the data embedded in those decisions, and then to use it somehow so we learn from it.

  What’s most important, throughout all these concepts, is the foundational idea undergirding these lessons, the tissue that connects the eight insights at the heart of this book: Productivity is about recognizing choices that other people often overlook. It’s about making certain decisions in certain ways. The way we choose to see our own lives; the stories we tell ourselves, and the goals we push ourselves to spell out in detail; the culture we establish among teammates; the ways we frame our choices and manage the information in our lives. Productive people and companies force themselves to make choices most other people are content to ignore. Productivity emerges when people push themselves to think differently.