Mar 30, 2023
Changing fast and slow
You’ve probably noticed that most things change.
Constantly.
We all seem to have mixed feelings towards this concept, but acceptance appears to be the only long-term strategy to this rollercoaster called life.
But why do we approach some change in more of a clear-cut 180-degree kind of way? While other changes better give us time to adjust, or we find ourselves completely overwhelmed, even when it feels like it shouldn’t be such a big thing.
If you tell your friends you have a personality to introduce them to, they will likely raise an eyebrow or two. People shouldn’t change overnight; our antennas go up if they do. The event of a person changing overnight is so unlikely in our Western culture that it even makes for great true crime.
On the other hand, brands and businesses are encouraged to change quickly. Throw the old out the window and start something new. Test different versions of what you offer the world until you find a fit. It’s called a pivot and is considered a natural part of starting a company.
And why don’t we make pivots in life? Killing the old, starting over.
If we know who we want to be and where we want to go, wouldn’t it make sense to go there directly? So why are most self-help books centred around the “Get one percent better every day, and eventually you’ll get there” theme? And not, “Wake up tomorrow, be a different version of yourself”.
Or, if you and your best friend are destined to grow apart, isn’t the total pain likely less if it happens overnight than if it takes years? You can grow apart, grieve the loss, and find a new friend. Compare it to a slow and inconvenient process of having a best friend, a good friend, a decent friend, an okay friend, and eventually no friend anymore. What would you prefer?
Once, I had a long-term relationship (shared apartments and bank accounts, etc. — you know the drill) end in under 30 minutes without much warning. It messed me up a lot. Still, if someone had asked me before this how I would have wanted my long-term relationship to end (if an eventual end was the only option), I’d probably suggest a “ripping the band-aid” approach.
However, I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone who can think of better ways to spend money than on therapy.
Since I couldn’t A/B-test my break-up, I’m unsure if it would have been a better experience if I had gotten time to prepare for the change. But yes, some things would likely have been easier.
Or should we change a business like we approach change as humans? “Do 1% better every day, and eventually, you’ll nail it.”
It shouldn’t be this different. What’s going on?
The primary difference is how we look at time and resources.
For a business trying to take off, we see it as fixed. We have limited resources, and when we’re out, it’s over. So we better hurry up and change now to give ourselves time to try another idea.
But we see life as something continuous. We will likely be around tomorrow and next week, two years from now. Then gradient change feels like a good idea, one small step at a time towards a longer journey. We are easing into the new, avoiding the bumps.
But at the end of the day, the only difference is the horizon.
If our lives had as clear a runway as the financing of a failing startup, we might view change very differently. Prioritise long-term fulfilment ahead of short-term discomfort. Accepting the bumps, ripping off the band-aids.
Or is slow, gradual change better for our well-being? Less drama, less trauma.
What do you think?
Mar 30, 2023
Changing fast and slow
You’ve probably noticed that most things change.
Constantly.
We all seem to have mixed feelings towards this concept, but acceptance appears to be the only long-term strategy to this rollercoaster called life.
But why do we approach some change in more of a clear-cut 180-degree kind of way? While other changes better give us time to adjust, or we find ourselves completely overwhelmed, even when it feels like it shouldn’t be such a big thing.
If you tell your friends you have a personality to introduce them to, they will likely raise an eyebrow or two. People shouldn’t change overnight; our antennas go up if they do. The event of a person changing overnight is so unlikely in our Western culture that it even makes for great true crime.
On the other hand, brands and businesses are encouraged to change quickly. Throw the old out the window and start something new. Test different versions of what you offer the world until you find a fit. It’s called a pivot and is considered a natural part of starting a company.
And why don’t we make pivots in life? Killing the old, starting over.
If we know who we want to be and where we want to go, wouldn’t it make sense to go there directly? So why are most self-help books centred around the “Get one percent better every day, and eventually you’ll get there” theme? And not, “Wake up tomorrow, be a different version of yourself”.
Or, if you and your best friend are destined to grow apart, isn’t the total pain likely less if it happens overnight than if it takes years? You can grow apart, grieve the loss, and find a new friend. Compare it to a slow and inconvenient process of having a best friend, a good friend, a decent friend, an okay friend, and eventually no friend anymore. What would you prefer?
Once, I had a long-term relationship (shared apartments and bank accounts, etc. — you know the drill) end in under 30 minutes without much warning. It messed me up a lot. Still, if someone had asked me before this how I would have wanted my long-term relationship to end (if an eventual end was the only option), I’d probably suggest a “ripping the band-aid” approach.
However, I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone who can think of better ways to spend money than on therapy.
Since I couldn’t A/B-test my break-up, I’m unsure if it would have been a better experience if I had gotten time to prepare for the change. But yes, some things would likely have been easier.
Or should we change a business like we approach change as humans? “Do 1% better every day, and eventually, you’ll nail it.”
It shouldn’t be this different. What’s going on?
The primary difference is how we look at time and resources.
For a business trying to take off, we see it as fixed. We have limited resources, and when we’re out, it’s over. So we better hurry up and change now to give ourselves time to try another idea.
But we see life as something continuous. We will likely be around tomorrow and next week, two years from now. Then gradient change feels like a good idea, one small step at a time towards a longer journey. We are easing into the new, avoiding the bumps.
But at the end of the day, the only difference is the horizon.
If our lives had as clear a runway as the financing of a failing startup, we might view change very differently. Prioritise long-term fulfilment ahead of short-term discomfort. Accepting the bumps, ripping off the band-aids.
Or is slow, gradual change better for our well-being? Less drama, less trauma.
What do you think?
Mar 30, 2023
Changing fast and slow
You’ve probably noticed that most things change.
Constantly.
We all seem to have mixed feelings towards this concept, but acceptance appears to be the only long-term strategy to this rollercoaster called life.
But why do we approach some change in more of a clear-cut 180-degree kind of way? While other changes better give us time to adjust, or we find ourselves completely overwhelmed, even when it feels like it shouldn’t be such a big thing.
If you tell your friends you have a personality to introduce them to, they will likely raise an eyebrow or two. People shouldn’t change overnight; our antennas go up if they do. The event of a person changing overnight is so unlikely in our Western culture that it even makes for great true crime.
On the other hand, brands and businesses are encouraged to change quickly. Throw the old out the window and start something new. Test different versions of what you offer the world until you find a fit. It’s called a pivot and is considered a natural part of starting a company.
And why don’t we make pivots in life? Killing the old, starting over.
If we know who we want to be and where we want to go, wouldn’t it make sense to go there directly? So why are most self-help books centred around the “Get one percent better every day, and eventually you’ll get there” theme? And not, “Wake up tomorrow, be a different version of yourself”.
Or, if you and your best friend are destined to grow apart, isn’t the total pain likely less if it happens overnight than if it takes years? You can grow apart, grieve the loss, and find a new friend. Compare it to a slow and inconvenient process of having a best friend, a good friend, a decent friend, an okay friend, and eventually no friend anymore. What would you prefer?
Once, I had a long-term relationship (shared apartments and bank accounts, etc. — you know the drill) end in under 30 minutes without much warning. It messed me up a lot. Still, if someone had asked me before this how I would have wanted my long-term relationship to end (if an eventual end was the only option), I’d probably suggest a “ripping the band-aid” approach.
However, I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone who can think of better ways to spend money than on therapy.
Since I couldn’t A/B-test my break-up, I’m unsure if it would have been a better experience if I had gotten time to prepare for the change. But yes, some things would likely have been easier.
Or should we change a business like we approach change as humans? “Do 1% better every day, and eventually, you’ll nail it.”
It shouldn’t be this different. What’s going on?
The primary difference is how we look at time and resources.
For a business trying to take off, we see it as fixed. We have limited resources, and when we’re out, it’s over. So we better hurry up and change now to give ourselves time to try another idea.
But we see life as something continuous. We will likely be around tomorrow and next week, two years from now. Then gradient change feels like a good idea, one small step at a time towards a longer journey. We are easing into the new, avoiding the bumps.
But at the end of the day, the only difference is the horizon.
If our lives had as clear a runway as the financing of a failing startup, we might view change very differently. Prioritise long-term fulfilment ahead of short-term discomfort. Accepting the bumps, ripping off the band-aids.
Or is slow, gradual change better for our well-being? Less drama, less trauma.
What do you think?