Chapter 5, "How to Motivate Like a Scientist." Snakes, salt, and the dangers of knowing you're right. You're sitting down to a job interview in a little diner across the street from the shiny new office where you hope to work someday. Your potential employer, a balding man with a fantastically purple tie, is asking you lots of questions as you both wait for your food to arrive. Things seem to be going really well.

Finally, the hot, delicious food strides into view. Mm, burgers and fries, an American classic and one of your personal favorites at that. As your plate is set in front of you, you immediately reach for the salt shaker. You've always liked your fries on the salty side, so might as well get that started, right?

Suddenly, your potential employer frowns, stands up, thanks you for your time, and walks out. The interview is over. What went wrong? According to historical folklore, this is actually one of the tests that the great inventor Thomas Edison would use on potential job applicants. He would have the interview at a restaurant, and if the hopeful applicant seasoned their food before they'd even tasted it, Edison would end the interview on the spot. I guess he figured that anyone who acted on an untested assumption like that was not the kind of person he wanted to be rubbing shoulders with in the lab on a daily basis.

Well, guess what, every single one of us would fail an assumption test like this. You are no exception. Even if you studied assumptions and cognitive bias your entire professional career, you still do this, perhaps not with salt but certainly in plenty of other areas. We all make assumptions and predictions in one form or another. It's how our brains are wired, and for good reason. It's usually the most efficient way to navigate this crazy world in which we live.

In fact, we often develop them without even realizing it. Sometimes they're of little consequence. I don't think that TV show is going to be any good, so I'm not going to bother watching it. While others can be disastrous-- I don't think I would do well in college or in a job, so I'm not going to try.

An assumption is simply a belief that's based in emotion and limited information. Sometimes they turn out to be correct. But in my experience, they can also be delightfully or dreadfully wrong. Assumptions come in all shapes and sizes. However, when it comes to motivation, there are two kinds in particular that we need to be worried about. We covered them earlier. So if you remember what they are, go ahead and skip down to the smiley face. If not, no worries. Here's a quick refresher for you.

Review-- number one, belief in capability. It's one thing for you to know that your child has the capability, but it's quite another for them to know and believe in their own capability. If your child genuinely believes that they can't do math, then any attempts to motivate them or persuade them that math is really important will only stress them out more and possibly cause them to shut down or get angry.

Alternatively, let's say you have some serious misgivings about your own competency when it comes to managing your finances. Finances will probably cause you a lot of stress, and it's unlikely that you will feel motivated to sit down and get it done. While it is entirely possible that you could balance your checkbook without too much trouble if you gave it a try, as long as you continue to doubt your capability, you will remain blind to that possibility. You'll be more likely to continue procrastinating or you might even give up altogether. In order for someone to feel motivated, they need to feel capable and competent.

Number two, belief in results. Let's say that Margaret asked Johnny to do his math homework a particular way and he either-- one, doesn't believe doing it that way is even humanly possible; two, does not believe that mom's way will accomplish his desired result; or three, does not believe that doing the homework and getting that result will ultimately get him where he wants to be. If any or all of those are true for Johnny, then chances are excellent that he won't want to do his homework the way mom asked him to.

Again, because of the curse of knowledge, it's easy for Margaret to assume that when she asks Johnny to try a new approach to his math homework, he automatically understands exactly how A leads to Z and he shares Margaret's worldview. She may also erroneously assume that Johnny trusts her completely and wholeheartedly. So when she promises A is going to equal Z, Johnny should immediately take her word for it.

Not surprisingly, Johnny, like many other human beings, does not possess that kind of radical, "no questions asked" kind of trust, even with his mother. So if you have a child that trusts you enough to take a leap of faith blindfolded, then consider yourself blessed-- or cursed depending on your point of view.

However, if you happen to be the parent of a child whose trust is less automatic, then it's important for you to remember that your child may lack the experience, trust, and understanding to know that what you are saying is true. Additional effort will be needed to overcome and move past that block to motivation. All caught up? Excellent. Onward.

So where do these assumptions come from, and how do you overcome them? You know, I'm so glad that I have attentive students like you that ask such perfectly timed questions. While similar in origin, the two categories of assumptions are quite different. So naturally, the process for overcoming them is quite different as well. Let's cover each one in turn.

But first, the approach that doesn't work. If Johnny has a deeply rooted belief or assumption then Margaret telling him, no, that's wrong, here's what's right, probably won't cause him to say, eureka, of course. In moments like these, words alone won't do the trick. In fact, Margaret taking a few minutes to explain why Johnny is wrong will probably just annoy him.

A well-crafted argument can work great for surface-level assumptions. But the really deep-rooted ones require something more. They require evidence. Specifically, Johnny needs to have a personal, emotional experience of some kind that contradicts his rule before he'll consider revising it. The best way I know of to create that real-life evidence is to conduct an experiment or, in other words, put the assumption to the test.

How to cultivate a belief in results. Once upon a time, I was coaching a mother and her daughter who was diagnosed with Asperger's. We'll call her Sarah. In one particular session, they were having some disagreement about what constituted an appropriate bedtime for a 10-year-old. Sarah insisted that she wanted to stay up reading an additional 30 minutes and that she could still wake up on time.

Mom was principally opposed to the idea. She said that she frequently had to nag Sarah all the way out of bed and through her morning routine. Sometimes they were even late for school because of this. So it seemed logical that taking away more of Sarah's precious sleep would only aggravate the issue, right?

After watching this verbal tennis match progress over the course of several minutes, I stepped in and pointed out that ultimately none of us actually knew what would happen if Sarah went to bed 30 minutes later than usual. The best we had were predictions. Mom assumed that Sarah's sluggishness in the morning was caused by lack of sleep. But did we actually know that was the cause?

Sarah asserted that missing out on 30 minutes of sleep wouldn't make a difference. And she felt confident that she could consistently wake up to get to school. How do we know who's right? Well, neither mom or Sarah were going to revise their assumptions based on words alone. We decided to test it in a small controlled experiment. After all, why guess when you can know?

Mom and Sarah agreed that they would try out the extended bedtime for one week, five school days. If she woke up late or was late to school on any one of those days, then they would move back to the old bedtime. They also agreed that Sarah would be responsible for getting up by herself and getting ready. Mom would not nag or remind. They wrote down all these terms in a responsibility agreement, signed it, and then mom waited to see what would happen.

The results? Sarah passed with flying colors. Not only did she wake up on time every day that week, but she also competently handled getting ready, and they got out the door with minutes to spare. Needless to say, mom was impressed. At the end of that week, we negotiated again and wrote down some long-term protocols surrounding the new bedtime, such as, if Sarah struggles to wake up and get to school on time one particular morning, then bedtime is moved back that subsequent night.

If she gets up and ready on time the following morning, then bedtime is re-extended. That way, each day is a fresh opportunity to get back on track. It was a beautiful system, and it's still running to this day. Mom and Sarah were freed from the shackles of their assumptions about what they thought might happen and could now feel excited and motivated about moving forward together in a new direction.

Nowadays, mom and Sarah don't usually argue about bedtime or about who's right on any particular issue. They just look to find out if/how they can test to see who's right. It's so much easier. However, this story could have had a very different ending. If mom had continued to hold her assumption that she was right, then they both would have missed out on many relaxed and much less stressful mornings.

The nitty gritty, part 1. Step 1, version 1, notice your assumption. The next time you catch yourself making a statement of fact or truth-- this is how he, she, it is or is going to be-- just ask yourself, is that actually true? How do I know? Are there exceptions? Could I test it? Particularly beware any statement that contains absolute words such as "can't," "always," and "never," i.e. I've never been good at math; slow traffic always makes me angry; you can't handle the truth. These are often false assumptions.

Step 1, version 2, notice the other person's assumption. If you notice someone else has a problematic assumption, then offer to make a deal with them. Ask them if that belief is something they would be willing to test, examine in a small experiment. If they're right, we'll try it their way from now on. If it turns out they're wrong, we'll try it your way next.

In the end, maybe you're both wrong, in which case, you can brainstorm together to come up with an entirely new system that you can test. This way, there's no need to argue or debate. If they say no, then it's usually best to back off and approach the conversation again at a later time. If you try to take away someone's deeply held belief that they aren't ready to give up, then you will often encounter resistance or even hostility.

Step 2, define success. Before you start running a race, you need to know the route to the finish line and be able to definitively know when/if you've crossed it. If they agree to make a deal, then discuss the specific parameters of your little experiment and come up with a plan. Be sure to leave no room for ambiguity or misunderstanding. This plan must be detailed and specific. Talk about when, who, where, and what happens if.

For Sarah, success was defined as punctuality in the morning five days in a row, with specific protocols attached to every possible outcome. You and your child will need to discuss together to come up with and agree upon your own definition of success. To be effective, this definition must fit within certain parameters.

Do you remember learning about SMART goals in school? Well, sorry to bring up past traumas, but the same principles apply here. In order to work, your definition of success must have the following characteristics. It must be-- specific, measurable, achievable, responsible, and time related.

Step 3, test the assumption in a small controlled way. Actively seek real-life experiences and look specifically for disconfirming information. If you think a TV show isn't going to be good but you decide you'd like to find out for sure, just watch the first episode or two.

If your child thinks they can't handle a job, then invite them to try volunteering or interning somewhere for a short while. Or perhaps you've always thought that yelling at someone is the best way to help them make lasting changes in their behavior. Check out a book on communication and try it a different way for a couple of weeks. Spoiler alert, it really isn't. Yelling mostly just triggers defense mode.

The goal here is to design and implement a small, short-term trial whose failure-- worst-case scenario-- is something you can live with. Put your assumption out there into the world and see if it holds up under the weight of reality. If you're right, great. But if you're wrong, wouldn't you want to know?

If it turns out you are wrong, simply apologize and move on. Contrary to what you might have heard, it actually is OK to make mistakes and not be perfect 100% of the time. Shocking, I know. Mistakes are a fantastic opportunity for learning and a natural part of being human. Furthermore, apologizing to your child is not likely to undermine your authority as a parent. If anything, it will probably increase the level of trust and respect your child has towards you.

After the mistake has been acknowledged, then move on. From there, it's a simple matter to discuss where you both want to be and what you could try next. For more detailed instructions on designing and conducting an experiment, check out our troubleshooting guide.

Further reading-- if you would like a more specific how-to on apologizing, then I would recommend you check out the book The Five Languages of Apology by Gary Chapman. It is a straightforward guide on how to effectively implement the two words that have saved countless relationships-- I'm sorry.

How to cultivate belief in capability. Results-oriented assumptions, such as those described above, tend to be pretty straightforward. Capability assumptions, on the other hand, can be more complex. Imagine if instead of the fiery, headstrong Sarah wanting to wake up on her own, we had mom who was pushing for a change in the morning routine but Sarah was scared and didn't think she could do it. If that was the case, then mom forcing her straight into a new morning routine would not work.

Even if Sarah is capable of waking up on her own, so long as she believes it to be impossible, the experiment will result in failure. Here's why. Learned helplessness, where beliefs about capability come from. Dr. Martin Seligman is a renowned balding man with a shock of white hair in the back and a ready smile. He's also a brilliant researcher who has made some revolutionary contributions to the field of psychology. Seligman got his PhD and began his career at the University of Pennsylvania in 1967. That very same year, he conducted an experiment that would kickstart his rise to stardom.

Before I tell you what went down, I want to preface this with full disclosure. Seligman's experiment involved inhumane animal testing. Back in the '60s, ethical standards were not nearly as strict as they are today, and a lot of the experiments done back then would never be allowed to happen today, including this one. So that said, proceed with caution. Here's what happened.

Two groups of dogs were suspended in harnesses and exposed to mild electric shocks. The first group could end the unpleasant shock immediately by pressing a button with their nose. The second group, however, had no control over their suffering. They simply had to sit there and wait for the shock to come to an end. For the second phase of the experiment, all the dogs were taken out of the harnesses and placed in small, walled-off pens where they were exposed to a painful shock once again. However, this time, they could escape. The walls of the pen were short and could easily be leapt over.

So what do you think happened? The dogs in the first group, those that previously had the pain-stopping button, jumped out of the pen and ran away the moment the shock started. However, the second group, those that previously had no control, would just lie down, whimper, and wait for the pain to stop. They could have easily gotten up and left, but they didn't. Why?

They had learned from previous experience that they were powerless to end their suffering. So that stubborn belief was carried into new circumstances where it was no longer accurate. That's what learned helplessness is. It's when you believe that your actions are ineffective or that you are incapable and powerless because past experience has proven that to you. That life lesson becomes a deeply rooted assumption that you continue to carry around long after you and/or your circumstances have changed.

A few more examples of this might be-- I've always been bad at math. Could you do it for me? I can't. I really don't think he can handle it. Yes, you can even acquire a learned helplessness perception of someone else. More on that in chapter 6.

This is too hard. No, I tried that last year. It didn't work. I can't control my temper. That's just the way I am. He's always been that way. There's nothing I can do. When you are trying to motivate someone who genuinely believes they are powerless or incapable, then that is an obstacle that needs to be addressed before you can move forward. It's impossible for someone to feel motivated if they don't feel capable and competent.

On the flip side, if someone does feel competent and capable, then motivation will flow naturally. Psychologists call that feeling self-efficacy, and it's an essential component of success. For example, have you ever felt like you were really good at something? Maybe it was your job or playing the piano or video games or ostrich racing. Remember how you started to feel more excited to go do that thing? Remember how you were more willing to stretch yourself and try new things, believing that you could handle it?

If you answered yes to any of the above questions, then you know the magic of which I speak. How do you create self-efficacy, you ask? Well, the short version is that it's the same way you create learned helplessness. If past experiences have shown you that you can't, then you need to have new experiences that prove to you that you can. Here's how.

Snakes on the brain. Back in the late 1970s, Albert Bandura, a psychologist famous for his development of social learning theory, put an ad in the newspaper inviting anyone with a phobia of snakes to come into the psychology department at his university to be cured. He didn't expect much of a turnout, so he was understandably surprised when hundreds of highly phobic and desperate people came from miles around seeking treatment.

He went straight to work. The goal at the end was for each subject to be able to sit in a room with a large red-tailed boa constrictor in their lap without, you know, freaking out. This was to be accomplished through a series of small steps, finally leading up to that pinnacle of achievement.

Initially, most of the subjects were so terrified and unsure that they were not even willing to enter a room containing a caged snake, much less touch it. He needed to start smaller. First, everyone was put through a crash course of snakes 101. They got to ask questions and were taught some of the facts in order to hopefully put any wild misconceptions to rest.

Then came step 2. From a distance, they'd watch a researcher walk into a room, touch the snake in the glass, terrarium, pick it up, sit on the chair, and place it in their lap. Easy peasy, right? Bandura knew that when you're not ready to experience something directly, the next best thing is to watch someone else experience it.

However, even after the researcher emerged unharmed, most of the participants still weren't convinced. Bandura would invite them to watch again, but a few feet closer this time. Rinse and repeat. Through the entire process, Bandura offered choices and let them know that they could end it and walk away at any time if they so desired. They were volunteers, after all, and the participant having a feeling of total control was essential for this to work.

Bandura continued to move each participant, oh, so gradually through lots of little steps-- watching through glass, watching from the doorway, watching from inside the room, and eventually being invited to pick up the snakes themselves. At this point, many participants requested safety equipment such as gloves and hockey pads. They also wanted to know there were clear safety protocols in place if something happened.

Finally, dressed as if they were going into battle, they would approach the terrarium and would, over the course of many, many attempts, gingerly pet the snake, pick it up, and hold it in their lap. Finally, they reached a point where they could hold it and play with it without wearing any protective gear.

Let me tell you, for someone with ophidiophobia to be able to do this is absolutely astounding. What's even more amazing is that the results of this treatment appear to be permanent. Once a participant made it all the way to having that personal and positive interaction with the snake, they completely overcame their debilitating phobia and never regressed.

Want to know the most amazing part of all? On average, from start to finish, this process took only 3 hours. If Bandura had simply rounded up some phobics and presented a strong logical argument as to why their phobia is stupid and irrational, his success rate would have been exactly zero. If he had tried to convince them that in just 3 hours' time they would be picking up a snake without crying, they probably would have laughed at the impossible absurdity of such an idea. How did he do it?

The nitty gritty, part 2. The process for addressing capability assumptions is very similar to the results-oriented one we covered earlier, with a few key additions. Step 1, notice the assumption. Notice the other person's assumptions and offer to make a deal to carry out an experiment. Step 2, desire. Bandura's phobics were already highly motivated, as evidenced by the fact that they showed up. Your child, however, may need some personal motivation and a deeper understanding of why the task at hand might be important. We'll cover more on how to do that in chapter 7.

Step 3, third-party observation. Before Bandura invited the participants to pick up the snake themselves, he showed them that it was possible. They got to watch the researcher do it first. Additionally, if, hypothetically, Sarah didn't think that someone her age could wake up every morning without help, then showing Sarah that her best friend was already doing it would give her a huge boost in confidence about her own odds of success.

A couple of pointers-- first, be careful to avoid shaming your child by explicitly comparing their actions to others, i.e. see, your friend can do it. This should be easy for you. Your child is not inadequate or less because they happen to have a particular struggle. They are, like everyone else, in the process of learning and growing. Everyone is at a different point in that journey and moving at their own pace.

Instead, do your best to lead the conversation with questions and open invitations. When you guide with questions and allow your child to come up with their own conclusions and solutions, then there is a dramatic increase in the likelihood that those concepts will be internalized, i.e. I hear you. Waking up can be pretty rough sometimes.

Obviously, I don't have all the answers, but I do have one possible idea. What would you think about spending a night at your friend's house to see how they wake up in the morning? That might help us get some ideas that we could try out. The goal here is to inspire your child with a goal that you both agree on rather than beating them over the head with a reminder of their own shortcomings.

Finally, experiencing something in person, either through watching a video or physically being there, has a greater influence on one's beliefs than simply hearing about it. Bandura's participants actually saw the researcher pick up the snake with their own eyes. In Sarah's hypothetical case, spending a night at her friend's house would allow her to witness firsthand the magic of her friend waking up and getting ready without any parental intervention.

Step 4, experiment, but start small. Continuing with the thought experiment above, after watching her friend wake up without any help, Sarah might gradually start to believe that such miracles might be possible for her too. But mom, being a blue-line parent, knows that diving straight in could still be a bit overwhelming. They will need to gradually work up to the goal of 100% independence in the morning.

Mom and Sarah might have discussed this and decided that, as an experiment, Sarah could try waking up without help for one day. They could have even made sure that it was a Saturday. That way, if it didn't work, Sarah wouldn't miss any school. They could also have had clear what-if protocols in place to assure that Sarah felt ready for every contingency.

If that initial experiment turned out to be a success, then they would simply plan another and then another, raising the bar a little bit each time. If there is a particular morning where Sarah failed to wake up, then they might have a short discussion to explore why. After that, they will make the necessary changes to their approach and try again.

These iterative attempts allow timely emotional processing and the learning of new skills at a pace Sarah could tolerate. Over time, Sarah would experience more and more personal, positive, and successful experiments that would inevitably increase her self-efficacy, her belief in her own capability and competence. Eventually, she would reach a point where she is completely comfortable with agreeing to wake up on her own 100% of the time.