Something in us craves secret knowledge. Bookstore aisles are filled with self-help books of various sorts, each promising to provide a key bit of wisdom that separates the reader from happiness. People read them all, find themselves no closer to being happy—and eagerly await the next one. We can chalk it up to some mysterious gnostic impulse, or we can blame it on something much simpler: we care less that the answer is true than we do that the answer suits our tastes.
Consider this old joke:
A man was walking down the street when he came upon a drunk crawling around on his hands and knees under a streetlamp. The man asked the drunk what he was doing. The drunk replied that he was looking for his car keys. Looking around, and not seeing any keys in the circle of light underneath the lamp, he asked the drunk where he had been when he had lost the keys. The drunk pointed down the street into the dark, and replied, “Over there.” This confused the man, so he asked the drunk why he was looking there, instead of where he had dropped his keys, and the drunk explained, “Because I can see better over here in the light”.
I love this joke, and I inflict it on people all the time, because it illustrates two truths. First, that people often fail because they are pouring their efforts into the wrong thing. Second, and much more important, ignorance is rarely the culprit; people pour their efforts into the wrong thing because they prefer to pour their efforts into the wrong thing.
Take as an example the failing public school system. It’s no secret that as we pour more tax dollars into public education, the system becomes steadily less effective. What is the people’s response? To pour more tax dollars into public education. This is foolishness, but it is a calculated foolishness; although it is obviously the wrong solution, it is obvious as well that people prefer it to the right solution—which is a pretty good clue that the people are much less concerned about the effectiveness of public education than they are about something else—say, that the government continue to use tax dollars to warehouse their kids while they pursue a career.
One of the ritual sayings in our house is, “That doesn’t answer my question, does it?” We use it when we ask a question and get an answer that sounds very much like it answers the question, but in fact does not. The does it? part of the ritual saying is there because it is almost never the case that the mismatch between question and answer is due to a misunderstanding; almost every time the child has answered a question that they would rather answer, instead of the question that was asked. It could be for any number of reasons—to avoid looking bad, to cover up a misdeed, to get someone else in trouble, to head off trouble of his own, to get out of work, to ingratiate himself.
We are diligent to detect such answers, and quick to pounce on them, because we want them to feel this particular lesson in their bones: stick to the point. Stick to it even if it takes you somewhere you don’t want to go. Stick to it even if you think a similar point would take you somewhere more pleasant. Stick to it even if it looks like the result will be drudgery or embarrassment or a missed chance to strut your stuff. Let your yes be yes and your no be no, whether you are answering a question or trying to decide how to get something done. Look for your keys where you lost them, not where the light is good.
In the posts ahead we will look at many situations where people fail to get things done because they fail to do simple and obvious things. The things are so simple and obvious that it is tempting to think that they couldn’t possibly have known those things and failed. Please join me in resisting that temptation, and instead looking for the deeper reasons that lead people to reject what is simple and obvious.
