Does Goal Setting Work?
tl;dr There’s some disagreement over whether setting goals is a good idea. Anecdotally, enjoyment in setting goals and success at accomplishing them varies between people, for various possible reasons. Publicly setting goals may reduce motivation by providing a status gain before the goal is actually accomplished. Creative work may be better accomplished without setting goals about it. ‘Process goals’, ‘systems’ or ‘habits’ are probably better for motivation than ‘outcome’ goals. Specific goals are probably easier on motivation than unspecified goals. Having explicit set goals can cause problems in organizations, and maybe for individuals.
Introduction
I experimented by letting go of goals for a while and just going with the flow, but that produced even worse results. I know some people are fans of that style, but it hasn’t worked well for me. I make much better progress — and I’m generally happier and more fulfilled — when I wield greater conscious control over the direction of my life.
The inherent problem with goal setting is related to how the brain works. Recent neuroscience research shows the brain works in a protective way, resistant to change. Therefore, any goals that require substantial behavioural change or thinking-pattern change will automatically be resisted. The brain is wired to seek rewards and avoid pain or discomfort, including fear. When fear of failure creeps into the mind of the goal setter it commences a de-motivator with a desire to return to known, comfortable behaviour and thought patterns.
I can’t read these two quotes side by side and not be confused.
There’s been quite a bit of discussion within Less Wrong and CFAR about goals and goal setting. On the whole, CFAR seems to go with it being a good idea. There are some posts that recognize the possible dangers: see patrissimo’s post on the problems with receiving status by publicly committing to goals. Basically, if you can achieve the status boost of actually accomplishing a goal by just talking about it in public, why do the hard work? This discussion came up fairly recently with the Ottawa Less Wrong group; specifically, whether introducing group goal setting was a good idea.
I’ve always set goals–by ‘always’ I mean ‘as far back as I can identify myself as some vaguely continuous version of my current self.’ At age twelve, some of my goals were concrete and immediate–“get a time under 1 minute 12 seconds for a hundred freestyle and make the regional swim meet cut.” Some were ambitious and unlikely–“go to the Olympics for swimming,” and “be the youngest person to swim across Lake Ontario.” Some were vague, like “be beautiful” or “be a famous novelist.” Some were chosen for bad reasons, like “lose 10 pounds.” My 12-year-old self wanted plenty of things that were unrealistic, or unhealthy, or incoherent, but I wanted them, and it seemed to make perfect sense to do something about getting them. I took the bus to swim practice at six am. I skipped breakfast and threw out the lunch my mom packed. Et cetera. I didn’t write these goals down in a list format, but I certainly kept track of them, in diary entries among other things. I sympathize with the first quote, and the second quote confuses and kind of irritates me–seriously, Ray Williams, you have that little faith in people’s abilities to change?
For me personally, I’m not sure what the alternative to having goals would be. Do things at random? Do whatever you have an immediate urge to do? Actually, I do know people like this. I know people whose stated desires aren’t a good predictor of their actions at all, and I’ve had a friend say to me “wow, you really do plan everything. I just realized I don’t plan anything at all.” Some of these people get a lot of interesting stuff done. So this may just be an individual variation thing; my comfort with goal setting, and discomfort with making life up as I go, might be a result of my slightly-Aspergers need for control. It certainly comes at a cost–the cost of basing self-worth on an external criterion, and the resulting anxiety and feelings of inadequacy. I have an enormous amount of difficulty with the Buddhist virtue of ‘non-striving.’
Why the individual variation?
The concepts of the motivation equation and success spirals give another hint at why goal-driven behaviour might vary between people. Nick Winter talks about this in his book The Motivation Hacker; he shows the difference between his past self, who had very low expectancy of success and set few goals, and his present self, with high expectancy of success and with goal-directed behaviour filling most of his time.
I actually remember a shift like this in my own life, although it was back in seventh grade and I’ve probably editorialized the memories to make a good narrative. My sixth grade self didn’t really have a concept of wanting something and thus doing something about it. At some point, over a period of a year or two, I experienced some minor successes. I was swimming faster, and for the first time ever, a coach made comments about my ‘natural talent.’ My friends wanted to get on the honour roll with an 80% average, and in first semester, both of them did and I didn’t; I was upset and decided to work harder, a concept I’d never applied to school, and saw results the next semester when my average was on par with theirs. It only took a few events like that, inconsequential in themselves, before my self-image was of someone who could reliably accomplish things through hard work. My parents helpfully reinforced this self-stereotype by making proud comments about my willpower and determination.
In hindsight I’m not sure whether this was a defining year; whether it actually made the difference, in the long run, or whether it was inevitable that some cluster of minor successes would have set off the same cascade later. It may be that some innate personality trait distinguishes the people who take those types of experiences and interpret them as success spirals from those who remained disengaged.
The More Important Question
Apart from the question of personal individual variation, though, there’s a more relevant question. Given that you’re already at a particular place on the continuum from planning-everything to doing-everything-as-you-feel-like-it, how much should you want to set goals, versus following urges? More importantly, what actions are helped versus harmed by explicit goal-setting.
Creative Goals
As Paul Graham points out, a lot of the cool things that have been accomplished in the past weren’t done through self-discipline:
One of the most dangerous illusions you get from school is the idea that doing great things requires a lot of discipline. Most subjects are taught in such a boring way that it’s only by discipline that you can flog yourself through them. So I was surprised when, early in college, I read a quote by Wittgenstein saying that he had no self-discipline and had never been able to deny himself anything, not even a cup of coffee.
Now I know a number of people who do great work, and it’s the same with all of them. They have little discipline. They’re all terrible procrastinators and find it almost impossible to make themselves do anything they’re not interested in. One still hasn’t sent out his half of the thank-you notes from his wedding, four years ago. Another has 26,000 emails in her inbox.
I’m not saying you can get away with zero self-discipline. You probably need about the amount you need to go running. I’m often reluctant to go running, but once I do, I enjoy it. And if I don’t run for several days, I feel ill. It’s the same with people who do great things. They know they’ll feel bad if they don’t work, and they have enough discipline to get themselves to their desks to start working. But once they get started, interest takes over, and discipline is no longer necessary.
Do you think Shakespeare was gritting his teeth and diligently trying to write Great Literature? Of course not. He was having fun. That’s why he’s so good.
This seems to imply that creative goals aren’t a good place to apply goal setting. But I’m not sure how much this is a fundamental truth. I recently made a Beeminder goal for writing fiction, and I’ve written fifty pages since then. I actually don’t have the writer’s virtue of just sitting down and writing; in the past, I’ve written most of my fiction by staying up late in a flow state. I can’t turn this on and off, though, and more importantly, I have a life to schedule my writing around, and if the only way I can get a novel done is to stay up all night before a 12-hour shift at the hospital, I probably won’t write that novel. I rarely want to do the hard work of writing; it’s a lot easier to lie in bed thinking about that one awesome scene five chapters down the road and lamenting that I don’t have time to write tonight because work in the morning.
Even if Shakespeare didn’t write using discipline, I bet that he used habits. That he sat down every day with a pen and parchment and fully expected himself to write. That he had some kind of sacred writing time, not to be interrupted by urgent-but-unimportant demands. That he’d built up some kind of success spiral around his ability to write plays that people would enjoy.
Outcome versus process goals
Goal setting sets up an either-or polarity of success. The only true measure can either be 100% attainment or perfection, or 99% and less, which is failure. We can then excessively focus on the missing or incomplete part of our efforts, ignoring the successful parts. Fourthly, goal setting doesn’t take into account random forces of chance. You can’t control all the environmental variables to guarantee 100% success.
This quote talks about a type of goal that I don’t actually set very often. Most of the ‘bad’ goals that I had as a 12-year-old were unrealistic outcome goals, and I failed to accomplish plenty of them; I didn’t go to the Olympics, I didn’t swim across Lake Ontario, and I never got down to 110 pounds. But I still have the self-concept of someone who’s good at accomplishing goals, and this is because I accomplished almost all of my more implicit ‘process’ goals. I made it to swim practice seven times a week, waking up at four-thirty am year after year. This didn’t automatically lead to Olympic success, obviously, but it was hard, and it impressed people. And yeah, I missed a few mornings, but in my mind 99% success or even 90% success at a goal is still pretty awesome.
In fact, I can’t think of any examples of outcome goals that I’ve set recently. Even “become a really awesome nurse” feels like more of a process goal, because it’s something I’ll keep doing on a day-to-day basis, requiring a constant input of effort.
Scott Adams, of Dilbert fame, refers to this dichotomy as ‘systems’ versus ‘goals’:
Just after college, I took my first airplane trip, destination California, in search of a job. I was seated next to a businessman who was probably in his early 60s. I suppose I looked like an odd duck with my serious demeanor, bad haircut and cheap suit, clearly out of my element. I asked what he did for a living, and he told me he was the CEO of a company that made screws. He offered me some career advice. He said that every time he got a new job, he immediately started looking for a better one. For him, job seeking was not something one did when necessary. It was a continuing process… This was my first exposure to the idea that one should have a system instead of a goal. The system was to continually look for better options.
Throughout my career I’ve had my antennae up, looking for examples of people who use systems as opposed to goals. In most cases, as far as I can tell, the people who use systems do better. The systems-driven people have found a way to look at the familiar in new and more useful ways.
...To put it bluntly, goals are for losers. That’s literally true most of the time. For example, if your goal is to lose 10 pounds, you will spend every moment until you reach the goal—if you reach it at all—feeling as if you were short of your goal. In other words, goal-oriented people exist in a state of nearly continuous failure that they hope will be temporary.
If you achieve your goal, you celebrate and feel terrific, but only until you realize that you just lost the thing that gave you purpose and direction. Your options are to feel empty and useless, perhaps enjoying the spoils of your success until they bore you, or to set new goals and re-enter the cycle of permanent presuccess failure.
I guess I agree with him–if you feel miserable when you’ve lost 9 pounds because you haven’t accomplished your goal yet, and empty after you’ve lost 10 pounds because you no longer have a goal, then whatever you’re calling ‘goal setting’ is a terrible idea. But that’s not what ‘goal setting’ feels like to me. I feel increasingly awesome as I get closer towards a goal, and once it’s done, I keep feeling awesome when I think about how I did it. Not awesome enough to never set another goal again, but awesome enough that I want to set lots more goals to get that feeling again.
SMART goals
When I work with people as their coach and mentor, they often tell me they’ve set goals such as “I want to be wealthy,” or “I want to be more beautiful/popular,” “I want a better relationship/ideal partner.” They don’t realize they’ve just described the symptoms or outcomes of the problems in their life. The cause of the problem, that many resist facing, is themselves. They don’t realize that for a change to occur, if one is desirable, they must change themselves. Once they make the personal changes, everything around them can alter, which may make the goal irrelevant.
Ray Williams
And? Someone has to change themselves to fix the underlying problem? Are they going to do that more successfully by going with the flow?
I think the more important dichotomy here is between vague goals and specific goals. I was exposed to the concept of SMART goals (specific, measurable, attainable, relevant, time-bound), at an early age, and though the concept has a lot of problems, the ability to Be Specific seems quite important. You can break down “I want to be beautiful” into subgoals like “I’ll learn to apply makeup properly”, “I’ll eat healthy and exercise”, “I’ll go clothing shopping with a friend who knows about fashion,” etc. All of these feel more attainable than the original goal, and it’s clear when they’re accomplished.
That being said, I have a hard time setting any goal that isn’t specific, attainable, and small. I’ve become more ambitious since meeting lots of LW and CFAR people, but I still don’t like large, long-term goals unless I can easily break them down into intermediate parts. This makes the idea of working on an unsolved problem, or in a startup where the events of the next year aren’t clear, deeply frightening. And these are obviously important problems that someone needs to motivate themselves to work on.
Problematic Goal-Driven Behaviour
We argue that the beneficial effects of goal setting have been overstated and that systematic harm caused by goal setting has been largely ignored. We identify specific side effects associated with goal setting, including a narrow focus that neglects non-goal areas, a rise in unethical behaviour, distorted risk preferences, corrosion of organizational culture, and reduced intrinsic motivation. Rather than dispensing goal setting as a benign, over-the-counter treatment for motivation, managers and scholars need to conceptualize goal setting as a prescription-strength medication that requires careful dosing, consideration of harmful side effects, and close supervision.
This is a fairly compelling argument against goal-setting; that by setting an explicit goal and then optimizing towards that goal, you may be losing out on elements that were being accomplished better before, and maybe even rewarding actual negative behaviour. Members of an organization presumably already have assigned tasks and responsibilities, and aren’t just doing whatever they feel like doing, but they might have done better with more freedom to prioritize their own work–the best environment is one with some structure and goals, but not too many. The phenomenon of “teaching to the test” for standardized testing is another example.
Given that humans aren’t best described as unitary selves, this metaphor extends to individuals. If one aspect of myself sets a personal goal to write two pages per day, another aspect of myself might respond by writing two pages on the easiest project I can think of, like a journal entry that no one will ever see. This violates the spirit of the goal it technically accomplishes.
A more problematic consideration is the relationship between intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. Studies show that rewarding or punishing children for tasks results in less intrinsic motivation, as measured by stated interest or by freely choosing to engage in the task. I’ve noticed this tendency in myself; faced with a nursing instructor who was constantly quizzing me on the pathophysiology of my patients’ conditions, I responded by refusing to be curious about any of it or look up the answers to questions in any more detail than what she demanded, even though my previous self loved to spend hours on Google making sense of confusing diseases. If this is a problem that affects individuals setting goals for themselves–i.e. if setting a daily writing goal makes writing less fun–then I can easily see how goal-setting could be damaging.
I also notice that I’m confused about the relationship between Beeminder’s extrinsic motivation, in the form of punishment for derailing, and its effects on intrinsic motivation. Maybe the power of success spirals to increase intrinsic motivation offsets the negative effect of outside reward/punishment; or maybe the fact that users deliberately choose to use Beeminder means that it doesn’t count as “extrinsic.” I’m not sure.
Conclusion
There seems to be variation between individuals, in terms of both generally purposeful behaviour, and comfort level with calling it ‘setting goals’. This might be related to success spirals in the past, or it might be a factor of personality and general comfort with order versus chaos. I’m not sure if it’s been studied.
In the past, a lot of creative behaviour wasn’t the result of deliberate goals. This may be a fundamental fact about creativity, or it may be a result of people’s beliefs about creativity (à la ego depletion only happens if you belief in ego depletion) or it may be a historical coincidence that isn’t fundamental at all. In any case, if you aren’t currently getting creative work done, and want to do more, I’m not sure what the alternative is to purposefully trying to do more. Manipulating the environment to make flow easier to attain, maybe. (For example, if I quit my day job and moved to a writers’ commune, I might write more without needing to try on a day-to-day basis).
Process goals, or systems, are probably better than outcome goals. Specific and realistic goals are probably better than vague and ambitious ones. A lot of this may be because it’s easier to form habits and/or success spirals around well-specified behaviours that you can just do every day.
Setting goals within an organization has a lot of potential problems, because workers can game the system and accomplish the letter of the goal in the easiest possible way. This likely happens within individuals too. Research shows that extrinsic motivation reduces intrinsic motivation, which is important to consider, but I’m not sure how it relates to individuals setting goals, as opposed to organizations.
One thing that might reduce the confusion between the two apparent types of “goal setting”, is that all of the Ray Williams quotes appear to be describing a phenomenon I discovered a while back that I dubbed “false goals”.
Essentially, a false goal is a goal that’s “not about what it’s about”. It’s a surface goal of “lose 10 pounds” whose actual intent is, say, “stop being such an ugly loser”. It’s this hidden, self-centered goal (a “be good” goal in Halvorson’s terms) that causes all the secondary phenomena Williams describes. Such an underlying goal cannot be achieved through losing the weight, so even if he/she succeeds, he/she fails! And certainly, throughout the whole process he/she is feeling like a failure, because this is true by assumption in the underlying goal.
In contrast, a person whose underlying intention for “lose 10 pounds” is, say, “improve my health, move a little faster, and fit into my sexier clothes”, will feel good about every ounce lost, because it is perceived as bringing him/her closer to their underlying desire.
People like you and Steve—who genuinely desire a change in the state of the world—don’t experience the backfiring effects of false goals. They only clobber people like those of Ray’s clients (and mine) who are actually seeking a change in the state of themselves (rather than the world), and are specifically trying to change their own self-judgment or the imagined judgment of others.
The biggest side-effect, of course, is that a false goal is negatively reinforcing in a way that extinguishes action taken to attain it. Every moment you spend working towards a false goal is a moment where you’re brought into fresh awareness of your perceived inadequacy, and the fastest way to make this stop is to stop taking action.
In short: if the real purpose of a goal is not to change the state of the world, but rather to change your self-esteem or perceived esteem in the eyes of others, don’t bother. While achieving a goal may improve your self-esteem as a side effect, it doesn’t work when the purpose of the goal itself is to make you esteemable, or more precisely, to alleviate your perceived lack of esteemability.
This is a really interesting way of looking at it.
I certainly think a lot about other people’s judgements, desperately want them to like and respect me, spend way too much time worrying about what people think, need constant positive feedback to feel good about my skills, occasionally cry when I get too much constructive criticism at work, etc. But those feelings don’t seem to propagate back into my goals. I guess, when I think about it, I don’t even implicitly think that I exercise or eat healthy to please or impress others. (Back when I was 12 and the main reason I wanted to lose weight was so people would think I was pretty, I had a lot of negative feelings about this goal, compared to my other goals that were less about wanting other people to respect me). And being criticized in an nursing context has occasionally led to a demotivational spiral–it’s just never lasted long enough to make a serious dent in my overall motivation, which pops back up as soon as I’m away from that context.
As long as you believe you are an okay and worthwhile person regardless of whether the goal is achieved, then there’s no risk of motivational backfiring, at least not of the kind I’m talking about.
You can want people to like and respect you, want to feel better about your skills, etc., without it being the same as feeling worthless unless those things turn out the way you want. If your basic self-worth is not rooted in your skills or what other people think of you, then you probably won’t have much of this kind of trouble.
I have a couple of tests I suggest to people to verify the truth or falsehood of their goals; one is to ask if you’d still want it to happen even if it had to be a complete secret from anybody but you, and you couldn’t get any personal credit or recognition for it. Another is whether imagining the end result makes you feel physically good in your torso and inclines you to make an “mmm” or “ahhh” sound with a relaxed breath (true goal), or whether it makes you feel tense or at most, relieved (both an indication of negative motivation, usually—but not always—a false goal.
There are some goals that I’d feel a lot less motivated to accomplish if they had to be secrets forever. Finishing a novel, for example–20% of the fun is in writing and inhabiting that world, but 80% of the fun is in sharing it with other people. It would make less of a motivation difference for, say, healthy eating or exercise.
I think pretty much all my goals make me feel physically good. I also feel a bit anxious for goals that have no obvious next action and aren’t entirely dependent on my hard work–for example, having a novel become a bestseller. That would feel freaking amazing, having lots of people reading and talking about a story I wrote, but it’s also hard and scary and improbable. I think the “improbable” and the “no next action”, as well as the “no external deadline”, make it so that I don’t do as much as I could to try to get my work published.
I suspect (stronger than speculate: I’ve seen various findings hinting that this might be true) that creative people have generally have worse executive function than non-creative people, all other factors like IQ being equal. I think there might be some sort of trade-off involved between cognitive control and ability to generate ideas.
If this is indeed the case, you don’t necessarily want to emulate creative people insofar as they seem to have poor executive function (not goal setting, avoiding necessary-but-boring work, etc). Even if they show this behavior at a higher rate, they may be functioning in-spite of it, rather than because of it., thanks to other skills gained in the hypothesized trade-off.
Speculative counterpoint: Goals might implicitly constrain the solution space, but this may be easily avoided with a little extra thinking when it comes to goal design.
Too big! Seriously, this post contains too many elements to readily reply to in a coherent way.
So I’ll just address this:
To me, those two quotes are both fair, and the combination of them indicates the reason why you need to acquire a habit of thinking in a way that is both definite and positive: to keep fear in its right place, which is mostly NOT putting on the brakes.
and this:
Me too. But we need to acknowledge the many, many people for whom this is not the case; People who believe that there’s something basically wrong with themselves and use any failure as an opportunity to punish themselves. These people need to, as Bradbury says, change who they are, before they can experience goal setting / achievement as ‘awesome’; As long as they think of themselves as bad or inadequate, their evaluation of their achievements will continue to conform to that.
Not only do I agree with this wholeheartedly, I want to mention that most of my major creative progress is directly attributable to goal-setting behaviour.
One thing that’s implied, but not directly stated in your post is that it’s best to set goals that you will occasionally fail at (cf. Decius’ reply to cousin_it re: inconsistent reinforcement)
Is that a problem? I tried to address it with the tl;dr and the conclusion.
I actually hadn’t thought about that specifically. It seems to run contrary to success spirals, but I do think it’s better to have a difficulty level where you know that you’ll fail occasionally, and where that isn’t catastrophic and you just keep plugging away.
I didn’t find it too big. I just found it too bundled up, but that’s probably because the topic is naturally like that. By ‘bundled up’ I mean, I found the article felt as if it interleaves too many concepts without first trying to make them all explicit. That said, am working on an article along lines of (introverts/intrinsic motivation vs extroverts/extrinsic motivation) so i understand the complexity involved.
Thanks for the heads up.
I upvoted anandjeyahar for saying what I meant better than I did—it’s the density of concepts rather than the raw length of the text that’s an issue.
On reflection, how I approach the ‘maintain some failure’ criteria is to keep pushing my existing skills into new areas (so I can have a ‘win’ in terms of pushing my comfort zone even if my particular attempt at this new thing fails. I keep failure close so it doesn’t become so scary, as you mention, but I don’t utterly and uncategorically fail at any time)
I’ve been going to the gym more or less consistently (barring illness and Hurricane Sandy) the past year and a half, and it’s never been an explicit goal. At the start, it was just “something that I should really start doing”, and since then it’s just been “something that I do.” I’ve been gradually learning a third language with much the same mindset in much the same time frame.
While I’m satisfied with my progress on either front, it feels anti-climatic, and I don’t strongly view myself as a person who “sets goals and successfully pursues them.”
I tend to be effective at precommitting to small but willpower-demanding tasks, and despite tending to add escape clauses for myself (so I can delay or abandon the task in case of an emergency) I’ve not yet needed to use one.
Overall, there seems to be a factor of risk/reward in regard to one’s self-image. If you decide “I’m going to eat healthier and exercise so I can lose some weight” or “I’m going to lose 10 pounds by the end of the month” and find yourself losing 9 pounds either way, it seems that the only way remaining to judge the different methods is by how well they’d contribute to a success spiral.
In other words, every goal-setting method has two significant elements: how effectively it’ll get you to accomplish the immediate task at hand, and how well it’ll contribute to your overall ability to set quality goals. To some extent it’ll just depend on your personality, and sometimes you’ll need to risk some long-term confidence because you really really need to get something done. However, in a good amount of cases, setting a goal that keeps up the likelihood of you being comfortable setting useful goals can be as important as what the goal is meant to immediately get done.
I’ve not given this conclusion too much thought (it came to me as I was writing), so feel free to point out if it’s obviously wrong (or just trivially true).
I have sometimes experienced the effect of decreased intrinsic motivation from setting an explicit goal, especially when using extrinsic motivation from Beeminder. However, I found that this effect wasn’t inherent, and I could usually mitigate it by reminding myself why I wanted to do the action in the first place before sitting down to do it. The internal dialogue usually goes like this:
Grrr, it’s late, but Beeminder wants me to write a post on Facebook… Maybe I should write one sentence to get the checkmark, and then go to sleep.
Wait a second, why did my past self want me to do this? Oh right, to improve my writing skills and share my thoughts with my friends. Ok, I feel like doing this now.
I have experienced this motivation problem much more with output-based goals (like “write a Facebook post”) than with input-based goals (like “read book X for 30 minutes”).
(copied out of some notes I made when someone sent this in a Discord chat I’m in)
Hm. I like “systems vs goals” as a concept I think that might be how I fuck up so much I set goals and abhor not meeting them, so I get a kind of an ugh field about the concept of the thing I set a goal for Right now, I’m avoiding cleaning the kitchen because I hate not being done even when I work I’m going to try using the system “clean the kitchen” instead of my previous goal “get the kitchen clean” and see if that helps Probably placebo etc etc but I don’t hate this half as much right now
How to set a goals in one step. Pick the biggest/grandest thing you can expect to actually accomplish. Don’t try to engineer a reward dispenser, extrinsic or intrinsic. Don’t get high on motivation and then come crashing down. Just pick what you already want and expect you can do, and do it. This applies to both daily, weekly, yearly, etc. timespans.
This is basically the next best alternative to BJ Fogg’s Tiny Habits. Rather than setting the easiest possible goal “Plug in the treadmill after breakfast” you pick one you’re sure you can do anyway “Run for five minutes in the morning”. Whatever you think you can do. Then once you can do five minutes, you’ll probably believe you can push farther.
(Disclaimer: I have recently started using this. It might not be the super be-all-end-all goal setting method.)
This is basically how I set goals, with the caveat that there aren’t that many entirely new goals for me. For example, I know I can exercise, so there isn’t really a fear of failure there, just laziness). There’ve been periods when I’ve finished a novel in months despite being in classes all day and swim team seven days a week, so I know I can write ten pages in a week–I just have to choose doing it over watching stupid videos on the Internet. I started meditating, which was an entirely new activity where I felt no confidence of success, by joining a study to provide extrinsic social motivation.
I’m not sure if this is the correct channel, but I’ve found www.daily-seven.com to be a helpful channel in getting myself to follow through with goals (or even getting myself to write goals to begin with). Basically, it’s an upgraded alarm clock: you tell somebody what you want to accomplish, and then have them call to remind you to do it. There’s something about the added social pressure that makes a tremendous difference, even if it seems silly and self-manufactured.
I’m confused about why extrinsic motivation reduces intrinsic motivation. If I reward someone for doing something, I’d expect them to develop an urge to do that thing. That was described in a recent post about habit formation. How did the teachers manage to kill motivation by giving rewards? Maybe there was some other effect, like “anything adults tell us to do is uncool”?
Behavioral experiments have shown that if you reward an action consistently, every time, and then stop rewarding it, animals will learn the behavior, repeat it, and then stop shortly after the rewards do.
However, if you reward an action inconsistently, and gradually decrease the frequency of rewards, many animals will continue long after the rewards have stopped.
I have neither a citation nor an excellent memory of the methodology of the experiment, but IIRC it was done with apes, levers, poker chips and grapes sometime in the late 90′s.
Plugging your terms into Google turned up some immediate links. This one seems to have behaviorism references to the underlying studies.
I think the theory theory is that if actions are extrinsically rewarded, the narrative that gets formed is “I did X because the teacher gave me candy”, not “I did X because I really like and value doing it.” Thus later, when there is no reward (or punishment) offered, the person doesn’t have a narrative for why they would want to do X anyway.
Agreed, though–it confuses my intuition, that rewarding a behaviour would reduce intrinsic motivation.
It’s called the “Overjustification effect”.
(I know that the name doesn’t explain anything but I figured telling you what it is called would be helpful if you wished to research the reasons that people believe that it happens.)