Untangling the Pain of Change

You can look up the numbers on behavior change, and the success rate thereof, but the truth is you probably don’t need to. You probably already have firsthand experience.

If you have ever tried to change your own behavior, let alone get others to change theirs, you are already aware that it is not easy.

Examples Are Everywhere

We need not look far for evidence.

Maybe you have vowed to stop waiting until the last minute to write your weekly newsletter, but nevertheless find yourself pushed up against the deadline every Tuesday night (a purely hypothetical example, of course).

Likewise, we all know dieting is hard. And leaders know, often through painful experience, that implementing organizational change is hard. Success rates for both are pretty dismal.

Have you ever asked yourself…

• Why don’t I confront that difficult situation at work instead of continuing to tolerate it?
• Why don’t I stick to the exercise program instead of putting up with the aches and pains I know it would alleviate, while continuing to fret about being out of shape?
• Why don’t I look for a new job when I know the current one is a dead end?
• Why don’t I implement new processes, tools, or systems when I know in my bones that the way I’m doing things will never yield the results I claim to want?

Why do we not change, even when we know change is desperately needed?

The Pain of Change

Tony Robbins hit the nail on the head when he said:

Change happens when the pain of staying the same is greater than the pain of change.

Or was it Henry Cloud who said that first? Who knows. Probably neither. Observations like this tend to have very deep roots.

Regardless of who said it first, the fact remains that we tend to make changes only when the pain of the status quo gets bad enough that staying the same just isn’t an option.

A Minor Tweak…

I might humbly suggest a minor adjustment to our profound, but dubiously attributed, quote:

Change happens when the felt pain of staying the same is greater than the imagined pain of change.

Not as catchy, I know–perhaps that’s why I don’t have a following like Tony Robbins–but perhaps a tad more accurate, and a variation that hopefully offers a slightly more charitable interpretation of our seemingly irrational and self-destructive behavior.

The reasons for our struggle to make durable change are many, but here I will offer three:

One: It’s Not Really That Bad

We can rapidly lose touch with the objective reality of our suffering. We adapt. We tune it out. We normalize it. We quickly go nose-blind to how badly our present circumstances stink.

In short, we go numb. (We are really good at this.) It reduces the suffering, or at least the perceived suffering, but it comes at the cost of being a little less alive. Anesthetics numb us to pleasure just as well as pain.

After a while, our felt pain diminishes, but that does not make our current behavior less bad, or the missed opportunity less of a loss.

It just makes us less likely to change.

Two: Better the Devil You Know

As we understate the pain of staying the same, we simultaneously overstate the pain and difficulty of change.

Status quo bias is a real thing. It seems to be built into the human operating system.

We take our current state of affairs as the reference point, then weigh the potential gains and losses of change relative to our baseline, but we unconsciously rig the game so that staying the same wins way more than its fair share.

If you want to get technical (and I know you do), status quo bias is related to loss aversion, a well-documented (and oft-exploited) cognitive bias (“For a limited time only!!!”). Humans very reliably experience more pain from loss than joy from an equivalent gain.

The fear of losing $100 is much greater than the excitement of winning $100. Change involves risking what we have.

Another point scored for staying the same.

Three: Hidden Agendas

All too often, the real reasons we fail to make lasting change are hidden from us. While we might sincerely want to make a needed change, there is frequently something far more powerful lurking in the shadows: a hidden, competing commitment.

Here’s how it works:

Stated Goal: I want to focus and work more efficiently.

But…

Hidden Competing Commitment: I have to be extremely responsive to my boss, customers, and coworkers (or else they will think I’m doing a bad job / not working hard enough / not committed / not valuable / not needed).

Now, which feels like it has bigger consequences? Failing to meet the stated goal? Or failing to meet the hidden competing commitment?

If you really (but unconsciously) believed that failing to be extremely responsive put your reputation and job at risk, which would you choose?

Maybe our resistance to change isn’t so irrational after all.

Immunity to Change

Next time, we will begin exploring a structure process for uncovering and overcoming these hidden, competing commitments: Robert Kegan and Lisa Lahey’s Immunity to Change. It’s powerful. We use it all the time, not only with our clients, but for ourselves, and we are excited to share it with you.

If you just can’t wait, contact us to learn more, or visit The Loom and search “Immunity to Change.”

Until next time,

Greg

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