Black & Gold Advisory

Nature abhors a vacuum. The mind abhors tedium.

B&G Leadership Notes

 

It is my custom very early on a Sunday morning to get on my road bike and cycle a 100-120km loop from my home in southwest London through some of the quieter roads of Surrey, Berkshire, Sussex and Kent counties.  A weekly ritual that provides me 4-5 peaceful hours alone with my thoughts.

 

On Sunday 9 August, I rode my bicycle up to Northampton, foregoing the cozy familiarity of the country lanes of the Home Counties for the roundabouts and long undulating thoroughfares of middle England.

 

Exiting a roundabout just past the 50km mark, my satnav informed me that I would be on that stretch of road for 13km (8 miles) before the next turning.  Purgatory Way – as I renamed it – was a featureless river of asphalt traversing a landscape of flat farm fields on either side.

 

After a few kilometres riding into a headwind, my legs began to ache and I could feel a soreness in my back – my body started to demand that I stop for a rest. This made little sense as I’d been riding for only two hours at that point, well within my capabilities.  Stubbornly, I ignored the pain and pushed through (the ego of a lifelong jock coming to the fore).  For perhaps the first time in my life, I had a sense of being in Purgatory – the in-between place we were taught about at catholic primary school:

 

Would this dull, infernal road never end?

 

At around the 9km mark, the bland fields gave way to the homes, shops and Sunday morning traffic of a small town.  My satnav informed me that I was suddenly riding 3-4kph faster than I had done along Purgatory Way.  Also, my legs felt fine and my back had stopped complaining!

 

This seemed strange at first but I quickly realised what had happened: my brain had created deceptions to get me to pause my ride, to put an end to the tedium.

 

That the human mind dislikes tedium was not new information for me but experiencing this in such a visceral way really drove the message home. I had gone from the intellectual knowledge of a concept to a practical understanding of its impact, with the attendant ability to embed it into my actions.

 

The realisation led me to a useful insight which I will share momentarily.  Before that, here is some of what neuroscience has to say on the matter.  The current thinking is that tedium leads to a sharp drop in dopamine levels.  This can be problematic (as it was during my ride) because:

 

Dopamine [is] the neurochemical fuel behind motivation, goal-directed behaviour, and the gap between intention and action. Dopamine is the neurotransmitter responsible for motivation, reward anticipation, and sustained effort toward goals. Contrary to popular belief, dopamine is not the “pleasure chemical.” It is released more during the chase than upon achievement, creating the neurochemical drive that powers goal-directed behaviour. When dopamine levels are optimal, you feel capable of sustained effort, able to delay gratification, and driven to pursue meaningful rewards. The gap between “I should do this” and “I am doing this” closes.”

 

The subconscious mind interprets sudden drops in dopamine levels as a signal that the current exercise is a poor use of metabolic energy. It then encourages you to do something else to stimulate the release of more dopamine.

 

The insight: learn to recognise the onset of tedium – the point where your tasks become repetitive and no longer challenge you.

 

This is the point where your brain actively seeks stimulation and will be at its most creative.  You might feel an urge to “finetune” or worse, “restructure” the already effective processes of the excellent team you’ve curated.  Resist the urge and leave well alone!

 

While your brain will welcome the challenge, your best people won’t.  In fact, they may well resent you for the interference.  That 1% efficiency gain you achieve might soon be more than reversed by the declining performance of a frustrated team or worse, the resignation of your best people to go work for others less prone to micromanaging.

 

Next time you feel that itch of tedium, take a leaf out of Jack Welch’s book.  I wrote recently about the great emphasis Welch placed on people development. He also followed a powerful philosophy: once his direct reports became so competent that they hardly needed his support, he knew it was time for him to start a new division or seek a new acquisition for GE.  Apart from helping him deliver on his key goal to grow the firm, this philosophy helped Welch give his people enough autonomy and room to grow as leaders themselves.

 

Tedium is emotionally problematic and can stifle productivity.  However, tedious tasks often present the opportunity and the stimulus for creative thought.  Friends often ask me how I stave off boredom on long bike rides.  Luckily, I rarely find my rides boring, but when I do, I let my mind drift where it pleases.  The idea and entire framework for this article were thought up during Sunday’s ride – I merely fleshed it out once I had access to a keyboard and a search engine.

 

I leave you with a simple question to ponder: how can I use tedium to my advantage?

 

 

You’ll find more insights on effective leadership here.