The Rush to Judgement

In this week's episode of Desert Fathers in a Year (ab
out which I have written before), +Erik Varden reads the story of Isaac the Theban, who had judged a fellow monk. On returning to his cell, he found his way blocked by an angel, who rebuked him for judging, which is God's prerogative. Isaac of course repented. And the main point of the story is that we shouldn't judge others, and that when we fall, we should repent. 

But Bishop Varden, with his characteristic passing comment that adds so much, and reflects the depth of his own wisdom, adds: 'a penchant for judging in this way may remain with us even when we have made some progress in the spiritual life, when our eyes are open to behold God's angels.'

Which brought me up short. Why are my eyes not open to behold God's angels? Or to put it another way why is it that I could happily return to my cell having judged someone else, and thought no more about it. Why is my conscience so dulled? (For surely, conscience is another way that God's voice might speak to us in such a situation).

And I think the answer is that I am not sufficiently recollected, or living with ease (in Nancy Kline's terminology). Kline sees ease as a freedom from urgency (internal and external) and from interruptions (likewise, both internal and external). We keep ourselves so busy that we don't notice when we have casually passed judgement on someone. And knowing what we do about the Fundamental Attribution Error (that tendency to overemphasise a person's personality or character as the cause for their behaviour, while underestimating situational or environmental factors) our judgment is likely to be erroneous and unjust anyway.

+Varden goes on to say that my rush to judgment may well be an act of self-defense by means of attack, and cites another story, told by Dorotheus of Gaza in the 6th century, about three people who see a man standing on a street corner at night.  Each reaches a different conclusion about him: the first thinks he is about to do something lecherous; the second that he is a robber, and the third, that he is waiting for a friend to go and pray together. 

Projection, as we call it now, was clearly recognised back then.

So rather than rush to judgement, I need to slow down, and recognise what such an impulse to judge, and what the judgments I am inclined to make, tell me about myself. 

Or to put it another way, to slow down until I see the Angels.

From KIT to KIA

I was reviewing a coaching programme with a client the other day; a very successful leader working at a high level in a complex organisation.

And he said that one of the things that had been most beneficial was almost a blinding flash of the obvious. Along the way, I had recommended that he read David Rock's book, Your Brain at Work (I recommend it to you, too, of course). 

He, of course, learned what he needed to from it, not necessarily what I had imagined he might. The most significant thing being that the brain gets tired during the day; and that doing highly demanding brain tasks in the evening is not very productive. 

He already knew that, of course.  But he knew it as a piece of intellectual knowledge, neatly filed in some area of his memory. 

What he hadn't done is access that knowledge each day, when he decided to get through all the relatively straightforward (though urgent and often important) emails first thing before going into a day filled with meetings. That left his important work on organisational strategy and planning, and work to progress key projects, to the evening - on the basis that he could give them his full attention then, without interruption.

But having read Rock's book, he realised why he was finding the important work so difficult and so draining: his brain was already tired. 

So by way of experiment, he booked some morning time each day to work on these priorities; deferring some meetings and doing his emails later in the day.  The results were most gratifying: he found the strategic and project work both easier and more enjoyable.

And as he said, he should have realised that years ago. But for me that highlights the difference between KIT (knowledge in theory) and KIA (knowledge in action). It is very easy, not least in intellectual environments such as Universities, to assume that if we know something, we know it. But that is not the case with practical skills. I may know how to do all sorts of things, from playing golf to playing the bagpipes, but until I have practiced sufficiently to acquire the skills involved, that knowledge is purely theoretical.

So it is valuable to remember that distinction, and when you have learned something of value, create ways to use that learning in a practical way, until it is not only KIT but also KIA. 

And returning to my client's particular insight, do the important stuff early in the day; and if you are thinking that in your case that's not good advice, think again. If your brain is not more awake early in the day, is that because your lifestyle needs to change? Or, of course, you may have small children and no sleep,  in which case, give yourself a break: the important thing is to spend the time with them, and love their other parent. KIT and KIA become Kip If Tired, and Kip If Awake - whenever you get the chance...

Adrenaline or peace?...

A few conversations this week have got me asking myself questions about the role of adrenaline in our lives, and our response to it.

One was a discussion about the component of ease in a Thinking Environment.  A colleague said that adrenaline is always detrimental to good thinking. 

I nodded along: that seemed sensible to me. I have experienced many times the powerful effect of a Thinking Environment, not least that component of ease, in helping me to think deeply and (of course) wisely about difficult or complex issues.

But on reflection I am not so sure. It's that word always that bothers me.  I tend to be wary of absolute statements, as I actually believe in absolutes...  

So I am wondering about the role of adrenaline in the context of physical emergencies or crises. I think firefighters, soldiers etc may well need the advantages that adrenaline offers as they go into action, and wonder if it is true that the price they pay for that is cognitive impairment.

Other conversations included issues like needing to be busy to feel as though you are accomplishing anything, or to keep the demons of rumination at bay. 

Here I reflect on the Eisenhower (Urgency/Importance) grid, and how many people spend a lot of time dealing with urgent issues (almost regardless of importance) at the expense of important issues that are not (or not yet) urgent.  In my thinking (and indeed experience) dealing with Important issues before they are urgent, by deliberate planning and choice, is a route to peace.  

Which raises the interesting question, are some people uneasy with peace? Is it too boring? Whereas adrenaline-stimulating crises are certainly interesting.  Which reminds me of something I wrote some years ago: working to a tight deadline triggers a release of adrenaline, (the fight or flight response), followed shortly afterwards by cortisol (which focuses us on the immediate crisis and therefore inhibits serotonin, oxytocin, dopamine). That results in us feeling lack-lustre, so we need more adrenaline to feel alive again.

I will continue to reflect on this (though not, I trust, ruminate) as I think I still have unanswered questions.  Fortunately, my job as coach doesn't require me to have the answers, just some great questions to get people thinking.

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With thanks to Fabian Jones for sharing this photo on Unsplash

Some (hurried) thoughts on Urgency

On a recent time management programme, we had a really interesting discussion. One of the academics there said that he does his best work under pressure; but he immediately challenged himself on that, which led to an interesting discussion. The consensus was, that despite it often feeling that way, the trope is not really true.  

What is the case is that when we meet a tight deadline, that feels like an achievement.  It is rewarding. And also, it lets us off considering the quality too carefully. Given that we were working against the clock, of course it wasn't perfect. Whereas when we work at a more measured pace, there is no excuse for poor quality work. Is that, perhaps, one of the reasons for urgency addiction: it lets us off the hook a bit?

That made me reflect further on urgency addiction, particularly in the light of all these books on neuropsychology I have been reading. So here's another, related, hypothesis. Working to a tight deadline triggers a release of adrenaline, (the fight or flight response), followed shortly afterwards by cortisol (which focuses us on the immediate crisis and therefore inhibits serotonin, oxytocin, dopamine). That results in us feeling lack-lustre, so we need more adrenaline to feel alive again.... Could that be why some leaders lead from crisis to crisis?