Blind to Blindness
March 14, 2010
Anne and I met Claire the first day we moved into our new apartment. Having lived in the building for nearly 20 years, she was a wealth of knowledge. Claire appeared to be in her mid-60s, so we were surprised when she told us she had just turned 78. She attributed her youthful appearance to her diet and the fact she walks her dogs several times a day—one dog at a time. When she found out we were animal lovers, she let us in on a little secret. “According to the building’s bylaws you’re only supposed to have up to two dogs… but I have three,” she whispered. Then she continued, “I know I’m breaking the rules, but my three guys don’t bother a soul and I take darn good care of them.” Claire was charming… and no doubt, her dogs were well cared for.
The next day I saw Claire walking one of her dogs. I smiled, waved and said good morning. To my surprise, she just stared at me. Her warm smile and friendly demeanor were missing. That evening, I shared my experience with Anne. “Maybe she was deep in thought?” That was possible but it didn’t seem likely. “Plus, she actually looked a bit angry,” I added. When Anne pointed out that I might be over analyzing the situation and that I can sometimes be a bit overly sensitive… I concluded she was probably right.
But her theory was quickly dispelled the following morning when Anne and I both saw Claire on one of her walks. We smiled, waved and said, “Good morning… it looks like it’s going to be beautiful today!” Claire not only didn’t respond… she actually looked irritated and turned away. We couldn’t believe it. “Did you say something yesterday that could have offended her?” Anne asked. I certainly couldn’t think of anything. A few days later a similar encounter took place… and then again a day after that. I was growing tired of going out of my way to be nice, only to be shunned. Read more
My “Radical” Healthcare Solution
January 30, 2010
Okay, but face it, Michael… you’re a radical, Jim said to me the other night at dinner. The first time I recall being called a radical was back in grade school. It was also the first time I had ever heard the word, and I didn’t know what it meant. Based on my teacher’s tone, and the fact that my thinking didn’t align with others, I assumed it meant something bad. Over time I learned its meaning and looking back on that first experience, my teacher’s use of the word was pretty accurate. It seems I was, and according to Jim, still am a radical.
His accusation came during a discussion concerning healthcare. Jim’s position was pretty simple: Government should stay the hell out of healthcare… period. After a few more statements along the same vein, I realized Jim, like many U.S. citizens, had taken the bait. By bait, I mean the propaganda that has become the faulty cornerstone of the so-called “healthcare” debate. What made me a radical in his eyes is that I didn’t accept it. I was interested in discussing “health” care… not “sick” care. Jim wanted to argue about government involvement, insurance companies, hospitals, drug companies and so on… politics.
When you stop listening to rhetoric and start looking at reality (facts and evidence), most “problems” start looking different. Healthcare is no exception. It has little to do with the issues being discussed in Washington or in the media. Read more
Do Opposites Really Attract?
December 19, 2009
One day while out for a long walk, I stopped in at a little coffee shop and took a seat at the bar. The barista was steaming a cup of milk, singing and dancing to the background music. For a barista, she had an exceptionally beautiful voice (not that I profess to have any expertise in singing baristas), but experiencing her preparation of a coffee drink was more like attending a stage performance.
“One moment… I’ll be right with you,” she said as she artfully spooned the froth into a large cup of espresso without missing a beat.
After finishing her masterpiece, she glided over and placed it in front of this rigid looking guy sitting across from me. He studied the cup closely, then bent down and took in the aroma. When he came up for air his fogged glasses slid partway down his nose. He looked to be in his early 50s, but after removing his glasses to wipe off the condensation, I wasn’t sure. Add to this his froth mustache, and he could have been a kid again.
“Well, what do you think?” she asked him.
“Excellent… another ‘10’ Larissa,” he answered, looking pleased with her work.
Larissa turned to me. “Okay, then… what can I make for you?” Larissa’s smile matched her voice.
“I guess I’ll have what he’s having,” I responded.
“Great choice, you won’t regret it,” the guy said wiping off his mustache. I smiled and nodded.
“Okay, Larissa, now will you please change it?” Before she could respond, he added, “I bet this gentleman would like it changed, too.” I hadn’t a clue of what “it” was, but considering I was the only other patron, I assumed the gentleman he was referring to was me.
“Wouldn’t you rather listen to Mozart?” he asked me pointing up to a speaker, shaking his head and rolling his eyes disapprovingly.
“Oh, Robert… you and Wolfgang,” Larissa said in a kidding voice, then added, “Robert is a music expert… he knows everything and has a doctorate degree in music.”
“Whatever you two decide to listen to is fine by me… I plan to shove off in a few minutes,” I answered.
Even so, it seemed a shame to change the music. Larissa was really enjoying it… and so was I. The music was Brazilian and judging by her appearance, accent and the fact she was singing along in Portuguese, I assumed Larissa might be, too.
“Is this Bebel Gilberto?” I asked.
She glanced up and smiled, “Yes, do you like it?”
I nodded and smiled back as she rhythmically created my drink to the beat.
“Of course you do,” Larissa said, “Brazilian music is the best.”
“I can’t believe it!” Robert said semi-jokingly. “Another person claiming to like this noise… what are the odds of that?” Larissa and I both smiled and played along but it was obvious to me that Robert liked more than just Mozart and coffee… and I think Larissa felt the same toward him.
“Why don’t you put on that piano concerto you played yesterday, Larissa? Wasn’t it um… No 21 in C… Andante… 2nd movement… I believe it was K467?”
Larissa looked through rows of CDs before picking up a Mozart sleeve and studied it for a moment, “Right again, Robert, it was K467… I told you he knows everything about music… and he’s teaching me too.”
“I assume you like Mozart?” Robert asked me.
“I’m not sure… I’ve never listened to him.” Read more
Beware the Semmelweis Reflex!
November 6, 2009
Metaphorically and literally speaking, the healthcare debate today is totally ill-focused. When it comes to implementing real solutions, it seems most people suddenly decide they’d rather argue, live in denial, and defend the status quo than accept reality and take action. It’s true. They’d rather fight than switch (can you older readers visualize the black eye?). Given the choice of accepting empirical evidence or clinging to misguided beliefs, many… if not most… people will choose misguided beliefs.
The act of automatically rejecting facts without thought or real consideration is sometimes referred to as the Semmelweis reflex… or “Semmelweis effect.” The name comes from Ignaz Semmelweis, a Hungarian physician who, in 1847, discovered that when maternity doctors washed their hands with a chlorinated-lime solution, the incidence of a type of sepsis related to childbirth was significantly reduced. So here’s where the “reflex”/“effect” part comes in: Despite his efforts and the obvious evidence showing that hand-washing reduced mortality below 1%, Semmelweis’ practice wasn’t accepted until years after his death. Furthermore, in 1865, Semmelweis had a mental breakdown and ended up in an asylum, where he died at age 47.
How could this happen? It’s simple. During his lifetime, Semmelweis’ observations and evidence conflicted with the established beliefs of the day. Medical books and doctors back then were focused on bloodletting as a primary treatment for disease… and in contrast to the evidence, they “believed” bloodletting was the best treatment. Read more
Categories Don’t Define Reality—We Do
October 16, 2009
Why didn’t they accept it at first? Simple. With a duck-like bill, an otter-like body, a tail like a beaver, and webbed feet, the platypus didn’t fit an established category. So it couldn’t possibly be real! While this may seem funny, the idea of rejecting ideas (new realities) that don’t fit neatly into accepted categories, still happens on a regular basis.
I learned this firsthand while working with Michael Jordan on his book, Rare Air. It was my first retail book experience so I was naive to the process. After working hard and putting a presentation together, I flew to NYC to meet with several prominent publishers. (By the way, when Michael writes a letter on your behalf, asking someone (anyone) to meet with you… they will.) By the end of my first meeting, I learned that since Rare Air didn’t fit an existing category, it couldn’t be “real.”
Like the scientists and the platypus, every publisher who initially saw Rare Air rejected it. By reinforcing each other’s beliefs… they shook ours. When Michael asked whom we had selected to publish his book, we were speechless. Read more
Relax, Breathe… Create.
October 13, 2009
It seems when I least expect it, my best ideas appear. Can you relate? Often while on a walk, taking a shower or relaxing in some way… bang! A great idea seems to magically appear. On the flip side, when I’m really stressed out and in need of a breakthrough solution, rarely does anything truly creative surface. If you’re like me, that’s when you return to the old idea well and crank up a predictable solution. It might be an interesting solution, but rarely original. It’s typically a modification of one of those good ideas that “worked” once (or twice…) before.
According to Nuno Sousa at the University of Minho in Portugal, there’s a good reason for why this happens. Sousa found when lab rats are stressed out; their responses to familiar routines become very repetitive. For example, rather than trying new maze paths that lead to food, chronically stressed rats repeatedly ran down the same dead-end paths. Read more
Big Megaphone
September 24, 2009
A big megaphone doesn’t make the message any truer… nor does it make it more important. It just makes the messenger louder.
On January 13, 1999, Michael Jordan announced his retirement from the NBA—for the second time. I worked with Michael on his book, Rare Air, but truthfully, I was too busy working to care about his first retirement—let alone his second.
For me, July 13th ended around 2 a.m. on July 14th with me sitting at my kitchen table, sleep deprived, having just finished concepts I had to present to a new client later that morning.
As I started off to bed I noticed the newspaper headline: MJ RETIRES!!! screaming across the front page. I opened it up and discovered this seemingly important news dominated many inside pages as well. Read more