By Linda Rising
risingl@acm.org
www.lindarising.org
I’ve been performing in groups of various kinds
since I was in grade school, and, over the years, I can remember
countless numbers of directors of those groups giving me an
interesting piece of advice that I’ve recently re-discovered in a
new form:
Don’t worry about making mistakes. Everyone
makes mistakes. Just do the best you can throughout the
performance—the most important part, the part the audience will
remember, is the closing phrase/measure/chord. That must be
perfect! Watch and listen and make sure to do your absolute best
at the end!
The first time I heard this, I thought the
teacher was just trying to get a bunch of wiggly kids to stand still
and pay attention for the whole piece. Surely, the ending, a small
part of the entire performance, couldn’t have that much impact! It
was important, sure, but was it that important?
As I grew older and began to take on the role of
director, I began to see the power of a good ending. Everyone felt
better if the last phrase/measure/chord was truly memorable. There
was definitely a feeling in the group that the performance had been
good. It was as though we had quickly forgotten the flubs and missed
entrances because the ending was so superb.
The audiences seemed to feel that way, too.
Comments were: "That last phrase was heavenly!" "When you sang that
last measure, I got shivers down my spine!" "What a powerful sound
at the very end! I can still hear it!"
Then I moved on to teaching and training and
giving keynote speeches and it seemed that even though no music was
involved that the same phenomenon was occurring. The comments from
people in the audience or class or training session were more about
what happened at the last than anything else (even if I had thought
it was all pretty good!). I chalked it up to the power of short-term
memory!
I’ve been reading a new book by Barry Schwartz
The Paradox of Choice (HarperCollins Publishers Inc., 2004). One
of the many interesting things I’ve learned from this book is that
we evaluate past experiences on the basis of how (good or bad) they
felt at their "peak" and how they felt at the end.
Nobel-prize winning psychologist, Daniel Kahneman,
and his colleagues have shown that what we remember about past
experiences is almost entirely determined by these two things: how
the experience felt when it was at its peak and how it felt when it
ended.
Think about that! When people evaluate past
experience, they only recall two things: how it felt at the peak and
whether it got better or worse at the end. As a result, a slight
improvement, even an improvement from "intolerable" to "pretty bad,"
makes the whole experience seem better, and a bad ending makes
everything seem worse. This "peak-end" rule is how we summarize the
experience and then we rely on that summary to remember how the
experience felt. The summary influences our decision about whether
to have that experience again. Virtually all other information
appears to be discarded, including "total" pleasantness or
unpleasantness (whatever that may mean!) and how long the experience
lasted. Things like the ratio of pleasure to displeasure during the
experience or how long the experience lasted have almost no
influence on our memory of it. Our choices of which experiences to
repeat do not always maximize total enjoyment or minimize total
pain. Here are several interesting studies (just a few of the many
that have been done in this area) that illustrate how this works.
Participants in one study were asked to listen to
very loud, very unpleasant noises played through headphones. The
first noise lasted 8 seconds. The second noise lasted 16 seconds.
The first 8 seconds of the second noise were exactly the same as the
first noise, and the second 8 seconds, while still loud and
unpleasant, were not as loud. Later, participants were told that
they would have to listen to one of the noises again, but that they
could choose the first or the second noise. The overwhelming
majority chose the second. Note that both noises were unpleasant and
both had the same "peak" unpleasantness, but the second had a less
unpleasant end, and so was remembered as less unpleasant overall
than the first.
In another study, volunteers put "a selected
finger" in a vise. Each volunteer endured a series of trials, in
which the pressure was either kept constant for the whole trial,
increased, or decreased. After each trial, the volunteers, having
removed their fingers from the vise, were asked to rate the pain. On
average, they said—not surprisingly—that it hurt a lot. What was
notable, however, was that the volunteers who had been subjected to
decreasing pressure reported less pain than when pressure was
maintained or increased, even though the same amount of total force
that was applied in each trial was the same.
This last report is of a study with "real"
impact. Men undergoing diagnostic colonoscopy were asked to report
how they felt moment by moment while having the exam, and how they
felt when it was over. The first group had a standard colonoscopy.
The second group had the standard exam and when the actual
examination was finished, the doctor left the instrument in place
for a short time. This was unpleasant, but not as bad as the actual
exam because the instrument wasn’t moving. In summary, the second
group experienced the same moment-by-moment discomfort as the first
group, with the addition of somewhat lesser discomfort for 20
seconds more. A short time after the exam, the second group rated
their experience as less unpleasant than did the first group. While
both groups had the same peak experience, the second group had a
milder experience at the end.
Here’s an added twist on this study—over a 5-year
period after this exam, patients in the second group were more
likely to comply with calls for follow-up colonoscopies than
patients in the first group.
I don’t know about you, but I found this last
report to be very convincing! I’m old enough to have had two
colonoscopies and I don’t remember either of them as pleasurable
experiences! The interesting follow-on result shows that a simple
addition to the procedure could mean that more patients would have
their follow-up check-ups. Since colon cancer, the third most common
cause of cancer death among both men and women in the United States,
is frequently preventable and highly treatable if detected early,
this could mean a savings of both lives and health costs.
Besides validating what my music teachers had
told me and my feelings about performances where I was a director,
what can we do with this simple but powerful information?
Here’s something that happened to me on a recent
whirlwind tour of Europe (11 flight legs and four countries in less
than 3 weeks!). From my point of view, I felt that I gave my best
"performance" at each stop. I love to travel and I love to see how
people in different countries approach problems in software
development. If enthusiasm and passion count, I was ‘way ahead as
far as my "peak" performance goes. But that "end" part, the last
chord, is not always under my control. Sometimes participants have
to leave before the official ending of the experience, so I really
never get to say a last "Good-bye, it was great to meet you." In one
setting, this was the case and, as a result, the ending was weak. By
the time I was ready to leave—and in a hurry to catch a train—only a
few people were still around and the finale was rushed. This was in
contrast to the last chord in another country where participants
shared a nice dinner and enjoyable conversation and before everyone
left, there was an informal line of participants who shook my hand
or gave me a hug and said a last "good-bye." It can’t be an
accident, that when I finally got home, I found an invitation from
the second company to "come back anytime." Clearly the "end"
experience had made a difference!
Great musical compositions have great beginnings,
then build to a climax, and have great endings. It seems to me after
having read the research, that this is no accident. Since we have
evolved (wouldn’t it be good to know why we do this?) to remember
the highlight and the ending for our past experiences, our
vacations, our jobs, our customer interactions, and our holiday
breaks can all be reduced to a couple of simple elements.
Understanding this can give us considerable
influence over the events that we plan for our own lives and for the
experiences in our organizations. In the future, ask yourself what
the "peak" and "end" will be for the participants for all the
experiences you are planning. One of the services I provide in my
consulting business is to do retrospectives at the end of projects.
I see in every setting how little people remember about what
happened over the lifetime of the project—whether it lasted for
several years or a few months. The team members remember the end of
the project and they have an overall sense of whether it was "good"
or "bad"—the peak, but it takes a lot of work to pry those stored
memories lose so the team can learn from the past before they begin
the next project.
Managers and team leads, remember to celebrate
the "end" of each and every project experience. It will impact what
team members remember about the quality of that project and if they
remember the experience as a "good" one, they will be happier and
happier people are more productive and innovative.
I wrote
an article
about being grateful to those you work with and what a difference
just saying thanks can make, not just to the receiver, but
also to the giver of those thanks. End experiences with a "thank
you" and you will both remember what happened in a more positive
light.
Here I am at the end of this article, so I want
to leave you laughing—actually I want to leave you thinking! A
friend sent me this paraphrase of something Peter Drucker wrote in
his book Management first published in 1973.
No organization can depend on genius; the
supply is always scarce and unreliable. It is the test of an
organization to make ordinary human beings perform better than
they seem capable of, to bring out whatever strength there is in
its members, and to use each person’s strength to help all the
others perform. The purpose of an organization is to enable
common people to do uncommon things.
Maybe the "peak-end" tool can help us in this
challenging work! Let me know if it works for you!