The Best of the Best of the Best

I’ve been reading a book that I found in our joint Kindle library called “Quiet” by Susan Cain, which is about introverts and how powerful they can be. It perked my interest because a large part of me is introverted. I have written a post about this:

Inside My Head 

I wouldn’t say that I am fully introverted because, as the post above says, there is an extrovert inside of me. Apparently this makes me an ambivert – somebody who loves being the centre of attention sometimes but also craves isolation. I would say that I am more of an introvert (probably about 70%) and the book above kind of confirms that. It’s a very interesting read and I can see myself in it. 

The writer of the book claims that the world has become driven by extroverts and, being an introvert herself, finds it a challenge to thrive in such a world. The whole point of the book is to shine a light on what makes a person an introvert and how such a person can succeed and flourish. It's too late for me because I have retired and am very happy now that I don’t have to unleash the extrovert into the corporate world when required (even though I often did).

Do we live in a world driven by extroverts? 

I am not so sure. I do believe that America in particular is more of an an extrovert-driven country but I’m not so sure about the rest of the world. I have worked and visited many and varied countries both as a tourist and as a worker and the corporate environment is not the same as it is in America. 

I have also been to the United States both as a tourist and as part of my job and I have witnessed this trend myself. I don’t want to generalise but a lot of corporate Americans that crossed my path seem to be extroverts who love to be the centre of attention. As a tourist, I got this too. Here is an example. 

I found myself in a theatre somewhere watching a hypnotist. I had seen a hypnotist in the UK and when he asked for volunteers from the audience, the majority of people were very reluctant to do so, with most, including me, trying to shrink in their chair, hoping it would swallow me up. Eventually the hypnotist ended up picking on people, that is, almost pleading with them to volunteer. In America, I found myself on the front row and having seen the hypnotist in the UK, was dreading the fact that he might see me and invite me on stage to humiliate myself. Worse, he might detect that I am English and that would be that. He walked out on stage and started his act and then looked at the audience. I swear that he was looking at me, directly in the eye, as the words came out of his mouth. 

“Can I have some volunteers from the audience please?”

I didn’t have to worry. 

Hundreds of arms shot up, and people started clapping and cheering and whooping in the way that Americans do. Many were disappointed. I was relieved. 

The guy behind me was very upset because he wasn’t picked. 

“AM I INVISIBLE?” he yelled at anyone who was willing to listen, his disgust plain for all to see. His words fell on deaf ears because there were other people complaining too. 

I am sceptical about hypnosis and when the hypnotist convinced a guy that he was Michael Jackson and a woman that she was Madonna, I didn’t believe it. To me these people were seeking attention and when he got them to sing a “duet” before snapping his fingers and releasing them from their trances, I almost laughed – not at the fact that their attempts were funny; I thought they weren’t hypnotised at all and simply wanted to show off. And it worked because both of them loved the rapturous applause they received, with the guy even bowing as if he were a rock star.

When I was working in Atlanta, the people were all very friendly and I even got my own little cube to work in. My aim was to perform a critical upgrade of the operating system and database and all I wanted was to let the introvert take over and settle down and get on with my job undisturbed. That couldn’t happen in America. Loads of people popped into my cube and introduced themselves. Some wanted to talk to the British person, others were just adding me to their already massive social circle by inviting me for lunch or even dinner. It was easy for me because I am British and as such, they were fascinated by my European and British heritage as well as my accent. The extrovert took over a lot more than I expected him to. In fact, on a separate occasion, I had to give a course there and I dreaded that because I am afraid of public speaking and in a country where public speaking seems to be a corporate requirement (certainly in my experience), I figured that the job would be so much more difficult. 

You can read about that here:

Fear (Part Three) – Public Speaking

I know that I am wrong in my generalisation that Americans are all extroverts. Clearly they are not. I have met many introverts on my travels over there. However, I am aware that self-improvement is something that was born across the pond and I think there is an expectation to be the best of the best – as illustrated in this clip:

In fact, Susan Cain’s book introduces a real live motivational speaker called Tony Robbins, who claims that everybody has a sleeping giant within, a powerful alter-ego that can take over and make you evolve into that person by focussing on the right things and “unleashing your power”. He plays in front of huge crowds and here is a taster of what you would get if you were to attend one of his events:

We don’t get many people like that in the UK, nor, in my experience at least, in the rest of the world. I’m not saying that Tony Robbins isn’t good at what he does at all. Helping people to find inner strength is a laudable quality. It’s just the whole showbusiness aspect of it I am highlighting. In the book Susan Cain says that she attended one of his events and, as an introvert, felt way out of her comfort zone. Tony Robbins was bouncing around the stage like the rampant extrovert he is, and he had his audience captivated and screaming and whooping in the way that only Americans do. It was more like a rock concert than a motivational therapy session. 

While this concept exists in the UK, we are more laid back and much less likely to be taken in by desire to be the best of the best. Some people are, don’t get me wrong, but over here we are a reserved bunch who laugh and make fun of such things. I have worked with Mr Motivation (or Mr Motivator), an old nemesis of mine, who demands that I try to be the best of the best. You can read about him here: 

The Art of Underachievement 

Every acolyte of Mr Motivation I have met is an extrovert. Introverts like me can succeed and climb the corporate ladder but we do it in our own way. The conversation I had in the above post is based on a real one where I told this particular Mr Motivation that in the end that you should play to your strengths, and, as I hope that Susan Cain concludes by the time that I have finished her book, it is absolutely fine to be an introvert with different desires and ways of working. You will succeed in your own way even if you are an introvert and don’t want to spend all your time looking for power and influence in an extrovert-driven existence. 

You don’t have to be the best of the best of the best. Nevertheless, as an introvert, you still can be if you so desire. 

Mr Motivation Strikes Again

A while ago, I posted about the Art of Underachievement, where I introduced a character called Mr Motivation, a conglomeration of a few people I have met in many years of suffering the ups and downs of corporate life in the seemingly inexorable rat race.

Mr Motivation is an arrogant man (or woman) who is so driven by the lust for money, achievement, material goods and power that he sacrifices everything, including his soul, and thinks that every other person should do the same. To him, I am an underperforming imbecile who simply must be unhappy, bored and depressed in my pointless dreary underachieving life even though I have found a niche in my career that I am relatively happy with. In other words I have found, for me, an almost perfect balance between work and life with benefits that make me comfortable and happy.

Mr Motivation considers me to be a loser and himself a winner.

And now Mr Motivation has struck again – and he has made me annoyed.

I have a thick skin and can deal with people like this. I give as good as I get and remain totally and utterly unimpressed with their so-called achievements. I don’t care whether they have a huge house and top of the range cars. The fact that their salary is bigger than mine is irrelevant.

In short, the only person who cares about Mr Motivation and his life is Mr Motivation.

However, this time he has gone too far and raised doubts in the mind of Mrs PM.

Mrs PM and I both do a similar kind of job (it’s how we met). We are both good at our jobs and Mrs PM is particularly happy in her chosen career – certainly happier than I am in mine. She is at a level where she can cope with the demands of the job and takes pleasure in her achievements.

She is not a high flyer who wants to dominate her chosen career, working relentlessly to climb up the ladder, achieve goal after goal, winning the rat race as a high flying manager in charge of hundreds of people; she just wants contentment and enough to be comfortable – just like me.

Last year, Mrs PM went to a university reunion and ended up in conversation with an acolyte of Mr Motivation. He simply said to her:

“What happened?” 

In other words, why are you stuck in a rut with no ambition to better yourself?

In other words, she was subjected to a typical quotation from the bible of Mr Motivation.

I have had discussions with people like this before; Mrs PM rarely considers this and these ill-chosen words pushed several buttons - mostly the button labelled SELF DOUBT.

Mrs PM is a very clever woman – far more intelligent than I am. She excelled at university and so far had been successful at whatever she has turned her hand to in her career.

Mr Motivation’s acolyte is a typical example of the kind of person who thinks:

“If you’re not earning megabucks or haven’t climbed high up on the corporate ladder then you are an abject failure. If you don’t work really hard to achieve world domination then you may as well be an amoeba.”

Mrs PM opened her heart to me and we had a chat about it. I had to stop myself from saying:

“He’s a complete arsehole”

I didn’t want to make her think that she really is a failure. She isn’t. She is far from it.

I just tried to give her some perspective.

First of all, Mrs PM earns a pretty good salary. Like me, the demands on her time can be quite high at times but mostly her position gives her an opportunity to balance life and work evenly. Her work, while it can sometimes be demanding does not take over her life.

Furthermore, unlike the motivational acolyte, she is in a happy relationship and has enough time to pursue other goals in life. I tried to emphasise the differences between the motivational acolyte and herself and made her realise that she is fact happier than he is.

I’ve met this guy before and I will again. And when I do, I will have a chat with him. I will point out to him that while money and career power are the most important driving for motivational acolytes, not everybody wants to reach the top of the tree. Some of us are happy where we are. I’ve had this conversation many times before.

I have to tell you the story of one person in particular I used to work with. I’ll call him Dirk (not his real name).

I met Dirk at a company social event. At the time I didn’t work with him but we actually got on well enough to become friends. A year later, fate intervened and we ended up in the same department and as I started working with him, I realised that he was a highly intelligent guy – but also very ambitious.

At first, it wasn’t too bad. However, his desire to climb the corporate ladder soon began to take over. He was more driven by promotions than his enjoyment of the job. And it worked. He was promoted.

Before I go on, let me just reinforce the fact that I don’t mind ambitious people. There are people I work with who have climbed up and up yet remained friendly decent people who I am proud to call friends and still get on really well with.

Dirk was different. Dirk relished his responsibility and began to work longer and longer hours, pushing his team to do the same, unnecessarily so in my opinion. As he climbed, he changed. He started looking down on people like me and often came out with quips, in meetings, like:

“This is exactly why you won’t be a manager, Dave.”

However, it was soon evident that his ambition did not match his ability. He was a classic example of the Peter Principle – a person who is promoted beyond his level of competence.

He had no clue how to manage people.

And it got worse. He rose to be a pretty powerful manager – but not a good manager.

One Christmas, on my last day of the year, we were all out on the annual pub crawl. He marched up to me and said in front of others, “I was so close to cancelling your holiday and sending you to Singapore.”

“Merry pharking Christmas, Dirk,” I said before walking away.

In the end, he was found out. Redundancy struck and he ended up on the list.

A couple of years later, he reappeared at the company as a mere project manager – a significant step down. Sadly for him, the Peter Principle still applied – he ended up being made redundant a second time.

I haven’t seen him since.

One thing I know is that I feel sorry for Dirk. I would still buy him a beer but I would chat to him about how his career fluctuated and failed. I would ask him whether he should have stayed at the level he was good at. I think I might still be working with him today if he had.

Yet somehow I imagine he will still be clinging onto the dream of ruling the world and working his fingers to the bone to do so – while looking at people like me and calling me a failure.

Thankfully, Mrs PM is happier now, content in the knowledge that she is brilliant at a job she really loves.

That, to me, is an achievement. I'm proud of her.

The Art Of Underachievement

When I look back on my life, I do so with a sense of satisfaction, a touch of sadness, a lot of euphoria and smidgeon of pride. I have achieved enough to keep me happy and one thing is certain: I have not sold my soul.

I am comfortable and the balance in my life is not that far from perfect; it could be better but it could also be far, far worse.

Yet there are certain people in the world who might look at my life and call me a failure – or at least an underachiever.

Such people rule the world; such people sacrifice everything to climb the corporate and social ladder. They have one goal in mind – to be the best – or even the best of the best – or, absurdly, the best of the best of the best – you catch my drift I’m sure.

Such people look down on me because, in their eyes, I have the potential to move on in life. They probably look down on you too, dear reader.

I have a problem with this philosophy and there are good reasons why.Let’s take one of these rulers, these overachievers and give him a name: Mr Motivation.

Mr Motivation is driven, so driven in fact that he is blinkered. His focus is his career or his determination to climb the corporate ladder, or to achieve absolute greatness in whatever field he has targeted and he will do anything to get there.

While his ambitions may be admirable, the cost of achieving those ambitions is too high for somebody like me.

I will illustrate what I mean with a conversation between me, as an underachiever, and Mr Motivation as an overachiever.

Mr Motivation: What have you achieved in life?

Plastic Mancunian: I have a job, I have a lovely lady, two kids, a car a house, three cats and I get to travel, write a blog and relax as and when the need or the desire arises. I’ve achieved enough.

Mr Motivation: Sounds dull. How much do you earn?

Plastic Mancunian: Enough to keep me happy and pay the bills.

Mr Motivation: Well, looking at your car and your house – and the area where you live, you just seem ordinary to me.

Plastic Mancunian: That’s what I am – an ordinary bloke.

Mr Motivation: How boring. You could be so much more. You have a degree and you are obviously intelligent. Why are you not running your company? How can you be happy with your life as it is?

Plastic Mancunian: I prefer a decent work/life balance. I go to work; I do my job; I come home; I do the things I want to do.

Mr Motivation: Pointless. You should strive to be the best. That’s the kind of drivel I hear from underachievers everywhere. Let me tell you what I have achieved in the last ten years. I am the managing director of a multimillion pound company. Last week alone I secured the biggest deal in the history of my niche. I drive a Bentley, own two Porsches and a seven bedroomed house in the Cheshire countryside. I climbed to the top in record time. I work my fingers to the bone. I don’t just “do my job”; I excel at my job. I go above and beyond the call of duty every single day of the week. I work as many hours as I can to achieve what I want – and it doesn’t stop there. I want to move on and earn millions.

Plastic Mancunian: Nobody cares.

Mr Motivation: Excuse me?

Plastic Mancunian: Nobody cares. Of all the billions of people who live on this planet, how many people do you think give a damn about your promotions, your cars, your house or the fact that you secured a multimillion pound deal?

Mr Motivation: Aren’t you impressed?

Plastic Mancunian: Not really. And let me tell you this – neither is anybody else. Your friends may congratulate you but really only those closest to you will care. Joe Bloggs in the street won’t give two hoots. So – you’ve bought a new Ferrari. Big deal. I’d like to drive one, and I’d be happy to be a passenger if you offered to drive me around – but impressed? Nah!!

Mr Motivation: That’s so sad.

Plastic Mancunian: Why?

Mr Motivation: It just shows that you have no goals to better yourself.

Plastic Mancunian: Do you believe that you are better than me because you have material goods? Because you have sacrificed so much time to get where you are? My soul is intact – is yours?

Mr Motivation: What do you mean?

Plastic Mancunian: Well I can’t help but notice that you are carrying a Blackberry that has been chirruping constantly during our conversation.

Mr Motivation: That’s because I am important. I am constantly on call and need to be able to react to get things done – to make more money – to be the best.

Plastic Mancunian: But it’s Saturday afternoon. How many hours work do you do on average?

Mr Motivation: I work 60 sometimes 70 hours a week. You have to do that if you want to be the best.

Plastic Mancunian: Okay – but that phone is still chirruping – so you probably work longer.

Mr Motivation: I reap the rewards. You can see where I am.

Plastic Mancunian: Well I think you’ve sacrificed your soul to be the best. The problem is that aiming “to be the best” while admirable, is not always achievable and it comes at a cost – you are blinkered and don’t see life outside your tunnel vision. Tell me, when was the last time you had a decent holiday? Or spent quality time with your wife and kids? When was the last time you relaxed?

Mr Motivation: You’re just lazy. I am hard working and that’s why I am where I am and you will remain stuck in a rut.

Plastic Mancunian: I’m happy in my rut. I have ambitions but not materialistic ambitions. I want to be happy and I know what I need to do to make me happy. The difference between you and I is that I haven’t sold my soul to achieve it. I realise my own limitations. And I don’t want to be unhealthy because of it.

Mr Motivation: Unhealthy?

Plastic Mancunian: Yes – stressed. Don’t tell me you aren’t stressed.

Mr Motivation: Absolutely not. Nevertheless, my goals demand constant attention and until I achieve them, I am on edge. I work best when on edge.

Plastic Mancunian: You’re stressed then. Tell me something else: can I be the best?

Mr Motivation: Yes – everybody can be the best.

Plastic Mancunian: That’s not true though is it? How can everybody be the best? Surely only those people who are the best can be the best. How can everybody, say, in the UK “be the best”?

Mr Motivation: Now you’re just being facetious.

Plastic Mancunian: But I’m not though. If you go for a promotion with two colleagues and you all work your bollocks off – and you achieve that promotion and that seven figure salary – what have you achieved? Sure – your family might be happy at more money – but the two guys who failed will not be the best, will they? They will have failed. And you will have worked stupid hours, sacrificing your life and another chunk of your soul, just to say that you are the best – until the time you fail. Is the money really worth it if you can’t enjoy it? Will the seven figure salary really make your life easier if it means that you now get 200 emails more a day, have to work every weekend for the next six years, only get a week or two off and have to take your laptop with you if you go on holiday? That lifestyle is not for me. I’m happy with my own balanced, stress free life.

Mr Motivation: You’re an underachiever.

Plastic Mancunian: If that's what you think then I'm proud of it.