Cartoonist Scott Adams (Dilbert) has a unique take on, well, just about everything. I’m reading his book How to Fail at Almost Everything and Still Win Big: Kind of the Story of My Life, which articulates some things I’ve suspected and taught me some new ones.
Adams’s approach in this book may itself be unique—at least I don’t think I’ve encountered it before. What he does quite deliberately is to lay out his thinking about life together with the events in his own life which led to that thinking. The result is a sort of intellectual memoir, but of an everyday practical sort—as he says, kind of the story of his life, but only the parts which ground his outlook.
One anecdote he tells I just love. It happened during a Dale Carnegie public speaking course:
Eventually someone volunteered, and then another. Our speaking assignment was something simple. I think we simply had to say something about ourselves. For most people, including me, this was a relatively easy task. But for many in the class it was nearly impossible.
One young lady who had been forced by her employer to take the class was so frightened that she literally couldn’t form words. In the cool, air-conditioned room, beads of sweat ran from her forehead down to her chin and dropped onto the carpet. The audience watched in shared pain as she battled her own demons and tried to form words. A few words came out, just barely, and she returned to her seat defeated, humiliated, broken.
Then an interesting thing happened. I rank it as one of the most fascinating things I have ever witnessed. The instructor went to the front and looked at the broken student. The room was dead silent. I’ll always remember his words. He said, “Wow. That was brave.”
My brain spun in my head. Twenty-some students had been thinking this woman had just crashed and burned in the most dramatically humiliating way. She had clearly thought the same thing. In four words, the instructor had completely reinterpreted the situation. Every one of us knew the instructor was right. We had just witnessed an extraordinary act of personal bravery, the likes of which one rarely sees. That was the takeaway. Period.
I’m with Adams. I wouldn’t have seen it that way. And I’m glad for the young lady, and for the lesson it teaches me, that the instructor had been trained to see more deeply than me into such a situation.