And every time I thought about the task, I resolved to Try Harder, and felt a stronger sense of motivation, but this never translated into action. I call this error Pressing the Try Harder button, and it’s characterised by feelings of guilt, obligation, motivation and optimism.
This is a classic case of failing to Be Deliberate. It feels good to try hard at something, it feels important and virtuous, and it’s easy to think that trying hard is what matters. But ultimately, trying hard is just a means to an end—my goal is to ensure that the task happens. If I can get it done in half the effort, or get somebody else to do it, that’s awesome! Because my true goal is the result. And pressing the Try Harder button is not an effective way of achieving the goal—you can tell, because it so often fails!
If I’m repeatedly failing to do something I want to do, then that’s strong evidence that “resolving to try harder next time” was not an effective plan for accomplishing this particular goal. (That’s not to say it never works.) Well, if that plan is ineffective, I need to find a different plan. Maybe I should set a reminder alarm, or change my routine, or outsource the task, or make a checklist, or whatever. (See Neel’s post or your favorite productivity book for more ideas.)
I don’t consider this advice to be particularly novel, but Neel’s post is a nice framing because the phrase “try harder” jogs my memory. It has become the “trigger” of a trigger-action-plan: When I say to myself “I’ll try harder next time”, it makes me think of Neel’s post, and then that makes me pause and try to think of a better way.
…And then, what do you know, I also started noticing myself telling my kid to “try harder next time”.
Well, let me tell you. If “try harder next time” is a frequently-ineffective way for me to solve a problem, then wouldn’t you know it, it’s a frequently-ineffective way for my kid to solve a problem too.
So now if my kid is trying to solve a problem—or if they’re not even trying—and I catch myself telling them to “try harder next time”, that reminds me to pause, and put on my problem-solving hat instead, and encourage my kid to put on their problem-solving hat too. Maybe we’ll even brainstorm together. (If tensions are high, I might set a reminder to do the brainstorming session the following day.)
I’m not perfect. I don’t always remember to do this. Guess I should try harder next time.
Parenting: “Try harder next time” is bad advice for kids too
A post from last year that really stuck with me is Neel Nanda’s “Stop pressing the Try Harder button”. Key excerpt:
If I’m repeatedly failing to do something I want to do, then that’s strong evidence that “resolving to try harder next time” was not an effective plan for accomplishing this particular goal. (That’s not to say it never works.) Well, if that plan is ineffective, I need to find a different plan. Maybe I should set a reminder alarm, or change my routine, or outsource the task, or make a checklist, or whatever. (See Neel’s post or your favorite productivity book for more ideas.)
I don’t consider this advice to be particularly novel, but Neel’s post is a nice framing because the phrase “try harder” jogs my memory. It has become the “trigger” of a trigger-action-plan: When I say to myself “I’ll try harder next time”, it makes me think of Neel’s post, and then that makes me pause and try to think of a better way.
…And then, what do you know, I also started noticing myself telling my kid to “try harder next time”.
Well, let me tell you. If “try harder next time” is a frequently-ineffective way for me to solve a problem, then wouldn’t you know it, it’s a frequently-ineffective way for my kid to solve a problem too.
So now if my kid is trying to solve a problem—or if they’re not even trying—and I catch myself telling them to “try harder next time”, that reminds me to pause, and put on my problem-solving hat instead, and encourage my kid to put on their problem-solving hat too. Maybe we’ll even brainstorm together. (If tensions are high, I might set a reminder to do the brainstorming session the following day.)
I’m not perfect. I don’t always remember to do this. Guess I should try harder next time.