Article: Business/Thinking About Mistakes

The Many Errors in Thinking About Mistakes

... consider how we are taught to think of mistakes in our society.

"I think it's a very difficult subject," said Paul J. H. Schoemaker, chairman of Decision Strategies International and teaches marketing at the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania. "There's a lot of ambivalence around making mistakes."

On one hand, as children we're taught that everyone makes mistakes and that the great thinkers and inventors embraced them. Thomas Edison's famous guote is often inscribed in schools and children's museums: "I have not failed. I have just found ten thousand ways that won't work."

On the other hand, good grades are usually a reward for doing things right, not making errors. Compliments are given for having the correct answer and, in fact, the wrong one may elicit scorn from classmates.

We grow up with a mixed message: making mistakes is a necessary learning tool, but we should avoid them.

Carol S. Dweck, a psychology professor at Stanford University, has studied this and related issues for decades.

"Studies with children and adults show that a large percentage cannot tolerate mistakes or setbacks," she said. In particular, those who believe that intelligence is fixed and cannot change tend to avoid taking chances that may lead to errors.

Often parents and teachers unwittingly encourage this mind-set by praising children for being smart rather than for trying hard or struggling with the process.

For example, in a study that Professor Dweck and her researchers did with 400 fifth graders, half were randomly praised as being "really smart" for doing well on a test; the others were praised for their effort.

Then they were given two tasks to choose from: an easy one that they would learn little from but do well, or a more challenging one that might be more interesting but induce more mistates.

The majority of those praised for being smart chose the simple task, while 90 percent of those commended for trying hard selected the more difficult one.

The difference was surprising, Professor Dweck said, especially because it came from one sentence of praise.

They were then given another test, above their grade level, on which many performed poorly. Afterward, they were asked to write anonymously about their experience to another school and report their scores. Thirty-seven percent of those who were told they were smart lied about their scores, while only 13 percent of the other group did.

"One thing I've learned is that kids are exquisitely attuned to the real message, and the real message is, 'Be smart,'" Professor Dweck said. "It's not, 'We love it when you struggle, or when you learn and make mistakes.'"

LEFT: Dancing Star, 1999, enamel, ink and varnish on birch plywood, 59" x 72"

As we get older, many of us invest a great deal in being right. When things go wrong, as they inevitably do, we focus on flagellating ourselves, blaming someone else or covering it up. Or we rationalize it by saying others make even more mistakes.

What we do not want to do, most of the time, is learn from the experience.

Professor Dweck, who wrote a book on the subject called "Mindset" (Random House, 2006), proved this point in another study, this one of college students. They were divided into two camps: those who did readings about how intelligence is fixed, and those who learned that intelligence could grow and develop if you worked at it.

The students then took a very tough test on which most did badly. They were given the option of bolstering their self-esteem in two ways: looking at scores and strategies of those who did worse or those who did better.

Those in the fixed mind-set chose to compare themselves with students who had performed worse, as opposed to those Professor Dweck refers to as in "the growth mind-set," who more frequently chose to learn by looking at those who had performed better.

Mr. Schoemaker would agree. He was the co-author of a June 2006 article for the Harvard Business Review called "The Wisdom of Deliberate Mistakes." Among it's theories is that there is too much focus on outcome rather than on process.

If businesses and people are not making a certain number of mistakes, "they're playing it too safe," he said.

The resistance to making mistakes runs deep, he writes, but it is necessary for the following reasons, which he outlined in the article:

  • We are overconfident. "Inexperienced managers make many mistakes and learn from them. Experienced managers may become so good at the game they're used to playing that they no longer see ways to improve significantly. They may need to make deliberate mistakes to test the limits of their knowledge."

  • We are risk-averse because "our personal and professional pride is tied up in being right. Employees are rewarded for good decisions and penalized for failures, so they spend a great deal of time and energy trying not to make mistakes."

  • We tend to favor data that confirms our beliefs.

  • We assume feedback is reliable, although in reality it is often lacking or misleading. We don't often look outside tested channels.

Of course, there are mistakes and then there are mistakes.

"With children, you want them to make mistakes, but not end up in prison or in a wheelchair," Mr. Schoemaker said. One also has to weigh the consequences. We want people who run nuclear power plants or fly planes to avoid mistakes as much as possible.

But most of us are not holding people's lives in our hands and can stand to take a few more chances.

"Unfortunately, the people who most need to make mistakes are the ones least likely to admit it, and the same is true of companies," Mr. Schoemaker wrote.

Of course, there are stupid mistakes, or what Stanley M. Gully, associate professor at the School of Management and Labor Relations at Rutgers University, called "unintelligent failures."

After all, nobody wants a worker who keeps making the same mistake, and "if we fail and don't learn from it, it's not an intelligent failure," he said.

Professor Gully and other researchers have looked at ways of training people to do complex tasks and found that in some cases encouraging them to make mistakes works better than teaching them to avoid them.

Those who were good at processing information, open to learning and not overly conscientious were more effectively trained if they were persuaded to make mistakes.

"We get fixated on achievement," he said, but "everyone is talking about the need to innovate. If you already know the answer, it's not learning. In most personal and business contexts, if you avoid the error, you avoid the learning process."

(...)

The previous text is excerpted from a November 24, 2007 Shortcuts column article by Alina Tugend in The New York Times. Copyright 2007 The New York Times Company.

Perfect: The Word/Our Language

I found the following information in: The Random House Thesaurus, College Edition. Edited by Jess Stein and Stuart Berg Flexner. Copyright 1984 by Random House, Inc.

perfect adj. 1 Can you draw a perfect circle?: exact, accurate, precise, true, pure, correct in every detail, flawless, unerring, strict, scrupulous, faithful. 2 The athlete was in perfect health. The child has been a perfect angel all day: faultless, flawless, without defect, unblemished, unimpaired, undamaged, complete, whole, entire, unbroken, finished, absolute, thorough, pure, consummate, unqualified, unmitigated, impeccable, matchless, unequaled, unrivaled, ideal, supreme, peerless, superlative, sublime; blameless, untainted, immaculate. -v. 3 The scientist perfected a method of desalting seawater: bring to perfection, develop, complete, achieve, accomplish, effect, realize, evolve, fulfill, consummate.
Ant. 1, 2 imperfect. 2 faulty, flawed, defective, blemished, impaired, ruined, spoiled, damaged, incomplete, deficient, unfinished; partial, mixed, impure, qualified; inferior, poor, bad, worthless, Informal awful, Slang lousy.

Did you know that if something (or someone) is not perfect, then it is (or they are) "ruined, spoiled, impure, bad or worthless"? What does this information say about the culture that produced it, and how would this culture's perceptions/decisions be affected by the judgements innately linked to this word/concept?

An Open Letter: Glitch Aesthetics

While I do not think it appropriate to reprint Iman Moradi's lengthy dissertation on "Glitch Aesthetics" on this blog site, I would encourage everyone interested in the perfect defect paradox to follow the link to his site and give it a read. It's fascinating information, and he should be complemented for compiling and organizing a lot of probing data that he personally collected (conversations, blog entries, forum posts, etc.) on a subject that hasn't been formally written about in any comprehensive way.

I offer the following thoughts, now - after reading it in its entirety, and I look forward to a beautiful book on the subject, coming out in the Fall, that he and Ant Scott are co-producing.

My thoughts about Glitch Aesthetics: an open letter to Iman Moradi and Ant Scott

A matter of control...
Everything seems to me to revolve around man's desire to strive for perfection, yet be attracted to/empathic towards defect.

Perhaps a component of what's happening here, a sudden growing interest in all things glitch, is not necessarily just a fetishisation of technology, but rather a fetishisation of glitch itself! Perhaps when glitch is re-purposed into a symbol it can represent not just "a digital art aesthetic or a component of the creative process," but the nature of man and the universe as a whole. It can become a comforting sign reminding us that we (and all that we create) are flawed; that perfection is an abstract concept with no real meaning since it doesn't actually exist anywhere.

Are the differences between "pure glitch" and "glitch alike" just a matter of imposed control? Perhaps there should be sub-categories of 'techno' and 'bio' glitch? In many of my paintings from the Perfect/Defect Suite, and the subsequent P/D2, a portion of the symbols and patterns are re-purposed pure glitch (accidental, coincidental, appropriated, found, real). By being very process driven (a human copying machine) and layering glitched information in such a way that I was not absolutely sure how they would interact with previous (and subsequent) layers, I was providing an opportunity for chance, like Jackson Pollock, to create a "happy accident." Would this single process be described as pure glitch becoming glitch alike (through the act of being translated into a different medium) and then reverting back to purity by virtue of the minimal controls used in moderating how it interacts/communicates with a new environment? And then there's the matter of human interaction (which is less than precise) in rendering these images, adding another layer of (let's call it) bio-glitch.

LEFT: E-Sync, 1999, enamel and varnish on birch plywood, 23" x 18".

My understanding of the process of evolution is that it's 100% tied to glitch, or as it's usually referred to: mutation. Every species will occasionally produce a member with a mutation (glitch/defect/mistake) in its genetic code. If this mutation provides that entity with an ability that enhances its ability to survive and flourish in a competitive, opportunistic world, it's more likely to have offspring that will possess this same mutation, and eventually overcome similar species without the advantage... The defect becomes a perfection! [I now think of the very rare folks who are unfortunately visually perceived to be glitched (Stephen Hawking) yet are able to make huge mental leaps to advance man's perception of his/her universe, and/or have savant abilities (autism) way beyond what 'the norms' can do].

Perhaps, the perception of defect (glitch/mutation/mistake) jumps out at our senses (I'm guessing advertisers know about this hard-wired gut reaction) because of a subconscious filter in our heads (evolution working again) which tells us: There are differences here that you don't understand ... you do not have control of your situation ... PAY ATTENTION!

Article: Science/Genetics

What Price Perfection?

Designer children, designing parents.

by Michael J. Sandel
02138 Magazine, May/June 2007

"Egg donor needed: Large Financial Incentive" read an ad in the Harvard Crimson a few years ago. The donor had to be at least five feet, 10 inches tall; athletic; without major family medical problems; and have a combined SAT score of 1400 or above. The price offered for this premium egg: $50,000.

Perhaps the parents were seeking a child who resembled them. Or perhaps they were hoping to trade up. Whatever the case, their extraordinary offer raised a hard moral question: Isn't there something troubling about parents ordering up a child with certain genetic traits?


LEFT: Biotechnofetishist, 2001, enamel and varnish on birch plywood, 18" x 23".

Today's prospective parents have the tools to be just as picky about the male contribution. It's no accident that California Cryobank, one of the world's leading sperm banks, has offices in Cambridge, between Harvard and MIT, and in Palo Alto, near Stanford. Cryobank advertises for donors in the Crimson and other college newspapers, and accepts only one to two percent of the donors who apply.

Of course, neither designer eggs nor Ivy League sperm guarantee that the resulting child will land a place in the freshman class. (Would he or she qualify for consideration as a "legacy" admit?) But recent advances in biotechnology are giving parents new ways of engineering the genetic traits of their children. It is now possible, for example, to choose whether to have a boy or a girl, through the same technique used to screen embryos for certain genetic diseases. For a fee of $18,480, a for-profit fertility clinic in Los Angeles advertises "sex selection with 99.9% guarantee of chosen gender." Another clinic, in Fairfax, Va., offers a sperm-sorting technique that makes it possible to choose the sex of your child before it is conceived. The clinic licensed the trademarked process (quaintly called MicroSort), which separates X- and Y- chromosome-bearing sperm by size, from the U.S. Department of Agriculture, which had developed it for breeding cattle.

Why should this worry us?

One reason is that sex selection can be an instrument of discrimination, typically against girls, as illustrated by the chilling gender ratios in parts of Asia. Some speculate that societies with substantially more men than women will be less stable, more violent, more prone to crime or war. The sperm-sorting company cleverly fends off such worries by offering MicroSort only to couples who want to use it for family balancing. Those with more sons than daughters can choose a girl, and vice-versa. But customers may not use the technology to stock up on children of the same sex, nor even to choose the sex of their first-born child.

The case of MicroSort, therefore, helps isolate the hardest moral question: Imagine that sperm-sorting technologies were employed in a society that did not favor boys over girls, and that wound up with a balanced sex ratio. Would sex selection under those conditions be unobjectionable? What if it became possible to select not only for sex but also for height, eye color, and skin color? What about sexual orientation, IQ, musical ability, and athletic prowess?

Even if we could engineer the genetic traits of our children without medical risk, and without skewing the sex ratio, it would still be morally troubling. Here's why: The quest for designer children is at odds with a norm that is central to parenting -- the ideal of unconditional love, an ideal that requires us to accept certain limits on our impulse for mastery and control.

To appreciate children as gifts is to accept them as they come, not as objects of our design, products of our will, or instruments of our ambition. Parental love is not contingent on the talents and attributes a child happens to have. We choose our friends and spouses at least partly on the basis of qualities we find attractive. But we do not choose our children. Their qualities are unpredictable, and even the most conscientious parents can not be held wholly responsible for the kind of children they have. That is why parenthood, more than other human relationships, teaches what theologian William F. May calls an "openness to the unbidden": a humility and enlarged human sympathy. The hubris involved in a quest for "perfect" designer children is at odds with these important traits.

Some argue that improving children through genetic engineering is really no different than the heavily managed, high-pressure child-rearing practices that have become common these days -- the crazed competition for admission to elite nursery schools, soccer practise from dawn till dusk, SAT prep courses, etc. But this similarity does not vindicate genetic engineering; instead, it gives us reason to question the low-tech hyper-parenting familiar in our time. This hyper-parenting represents the same anxious excess of mastery and control that leads to the quest for designer kids.

In a social world that prizes mastery and control, parenthood is a school for humility. That we care deeply about our children, and yet can not choose the kind we have, teaches parents to be open to the unbidden. Such openness is disposition worth affirming, not only within families, but in the wider world as well. It invites us to abide by the unexpected, to live with dissonance, to reign in the impulse to control.

Adapted from The Case Against Perfection: Ethics in the Age of Genetic Engineering, by Michael J. Sandel, with permission of the Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. All rights reserved.

Top Ten List: Art World Break


I’ve always wanted to be an artist. I attended the University of South Florida, majoring in Fine Art. To pay my bills, I’ve worked as a house painter, graphic designer and cabinetmaker (among many other jobs) during the day and created my art in the evenings and on weekends. For a over a decade, I didn’t get much sleep. In 1989, I received a sizeable fellowship that allowed me to dedicate all of my time to furthering my art career. Through continuing awards, grants, fellowships, commissions and sales of art, I was able to continue making art full-time and regularly exhibit for eleven years … but it was a financial struggle.

LEFT: Multi-Defect System 1, 1999, enamel and varnish on birch plywood, 18" x 23"

In 2000, I started working for a furniture store as a Stock Coordinator/Inventory Manager. Since then, I have been able to purchase my own home and nice things to put in it, met and married the woman of my dreams, saved money and improved my credit rating, taken a few vacations, and joined the rest of the world on the Internet. While I do miss painting, I have found other creative outlets.


For the people who can’t understand why I stepped away from the art world in 2002, and for others considering a career in the visual arts, I offer the following:


Reasons Why I Took a Break from the Art World


10. The Dream of Ownership: I want to own instead of rent the space I call home. I moved from a large three-story rental townhouse (with a studio) to owning a small one bedroom condo that has no space that can be continually dedicated to the process of making the kind of art I previously made.


9. Plan for Retirement vs. Living Hand to Mouth: I want the financial security that comes with a regular paycheck, not to mention the health insurance, paid vacation time and other benefits that are associated with being employed.


8. “Do you want fries with that?”: After working on a typical painting seven days a week, twelve hours a day -- for months, and then being required to give an art dealer (at least) 50% of the purchase price, I was left with the equivalent of earning much less than minimum wage.


7. The Cost of Being Hip: Unless you’re independently wealthy, The constant focus required to earn a living by selling and promoting artwork has a devastating effect on the artist’s perceived sense of humility and ability to find time to actually make art.


6. The Flake Factor: Standard business practices and an expectation of professionalism don’t seem to consistently apply in the art world.


5. Beige Sofa-sized Paintings: I have more interest in making art that makes you think and has the ability of changing the way a viewer perceives their world, and not so much interest in making art that matches potential customer’s home furnishings.


4. Leader vs. Follower: I’m not willing to create work that’s derivative of other artist’s imagery and ideas in order to be “in style.”


3. “…not that there’s anything wrong with that.”: I’m a heterosexual male of Northern-European heritage. The art establishment seeks out and represents “the other;” is obligated to publicly support political correctness and/or make up for the sins of the past.


2. Court Jester Duty: I don’t particularly enjoy attending parties where my assumed role is to be “the quirky fabulous artist” and a center of attention.


1. Quality of Life: I love my wife and want to spend as much time as possible with her.


For the time being, I primarily create virtual works of art for my own enjoyment.

I anticipate that someday I’ll return to regularly making actual art.