johnmaconline

The New York Times bestseller list is labeled incorrectly. Actually, it’s an outright lie.

The bestsellers list doesn’t track the books that have sold the most copies. It turns out that making this list is less about math and more about curation.

“Here are the books and authors that are (pre)selling well, we like, and fit into our view of the world. We think you should read these.”

If you, like me, look at this list to find your next book, how does that make you feel?

The engineer in me is pissed at the blatant truth-bending. Because, of course, the NYT know that they are lying. They could have just as easily and more accurately labeled it “NYT Great Books” list. 

But does it matter?

As a younger man, I would definitely have said, “Yes, it matters.” Because that younger me saw the world as black and white, right and wrong, and this is wrong.  

The current me, however, is better at understanding the nuance. Understanding the grey. Understanding the importance, purpose, and advantage of the grey. 

Does it really matter if the title of this list is bending the truth?

I don’t think so. At least in a case like this. I probably am happier with a curated list anyway. 

What if, however, we weren’t talking about books? What if the list was tracking COVID deaths, votes, or taxes?

Sometimes it matters.

Continuing the series on real-life versions of the trolley problem. Today I posit the trolley problem around government hostage negotiations.

A terrorist group has taken a group of five American tourists as hostages in a foreign country. They will kill them unless the US provides a cache of military weapons as ransom. These weapons will be used against a village of 60 local residents. You are the US president, and you must make a decision. You have two options:

1. Do nothing, and the hostages will die. The local residents will live.
2. Trade the weapons for the hostages, and they will live. The local residents will now die at the hands of the terrorist group.

What is the right thing to do?

Let’s add nuance.

What if one of the hostages was your brother?
What if the hostages weren’t tourists but government representatives?
What if the local residents were religious fundamentalists?
What if the local residents were democratic and American-friendly?
What if one of the local residents was famous in that country?
What if one of the hostages was famous in America?
What if the village population included 30 children?
What if the village population included American missionaries?
What if you had a friendly relationship with the terrorist group leader?
What if you could trade the weapons, and nobody would find out?
What if the hostage group contained members of the competing political party?
What if you had to personally deliver the cache of weapons?

Continuing the series on real-life versions of the trolley problem. Today we wrap a trolley problem around abortion.

A pregnant woman’s life is in danger. If she continues to carry the baby, she will die. If she aborts the baby, she will live. She is currently incoherent, and you must make the decision. You have two options:

1. Do nothing, and she will die. The baby will live.
2. Abort the baby, and the baby will die. She will live.

What is the right thing to do?

Let’s add nuance.

What if the pregnancy was an accident, and the woman doesn’t want the baby?
What if the chances of the woman dying are less than 100%?
What if the baby has Spina Bifida?
What if the baby is a result of rape?
What if the woman is your wife?
What if the woman has other children and abuses them?
What if the woman is a prostitute?
What if the woman is a heroin addict and the baby will be born addicted?
What if the baby is actually babies — twins?

I love the trolley problem.

I love it because it’s a simple thought experiment that uncovers the complexity of real-life ethical dilemmas. It’s lose-lose, no matter what we pick. We are guilty, whether or not we took action. 

Although studied deeply at a personal level in academia, the trolley problem is also a dilemma for leadership — community, company, nation, beer-league hockey team, whatever. Most times, when leadership makes a decision, some will benefit, and others will suffer.

As a leader, how do we determine which of the two non-ideal outcomes is better? And as a member of the group, how do we show empathy towards leadership and the other members?  

Here is the original construct:

A runaway trolley is barreling down the tracks. Ahead, on the tracks, five people are tied up. You are standing next to a lever. If you pull this lever, the trolley will switch to a different track. However, you notice a single person on the other track. You have two options:

1. Do nothing. The five people die. 
2. Pull the lever, diverting the trolley. One person dies.

What is the right thing to do?

The answer seems straightforward here, but it gets fuzzier if we add some nuance. For example, what if the five people were convicted murderers and the single person was a young mother?

Over the next several daily posts, I will posit real-life versions of this dilemma, hoping to provoke thought and increase empathy for all involved. 

How many customers do you need?
How many days of Paid Time Off do you currently have?
How many burgers do we need to serve at the picnic?
How many friends will make you happy?
How many front desk workers will be required?
How many Instagram followers will make you an influencer?
How many credits do you need to graduate?
How many simultaneous users do you need to support?
How many minutes of scrolling through Facebook is too much?

So many times we get caught up in the complexity of the situation. The “who, what, where, why, and how” wraps us in a deadlock.

Sometimes we should start with the “how many” question. It’s simple and can be effective.

“How many” doesn’t answer all of the questions, but it does remove one of the variables. This helps us bound the problem and points us in a direction.

If you’re struggling with a big and complex problem, try asking the “how many” question.

You got a bonus. You deserve this shiny new black truck.
You got a raise. You deserve a little something for yourself.
You work hard. You deserve to take that vacation.
You’re a great worker. You deserve a raise.
You’re tired. You deserve to be pampered.
You’re a good person. You deserve a good life.

“You deserve it” is a powerful sales pitch that hits deep in our core. Marketers know this and use it because it works. It works because if we deserve it, we’re rightfully getting what is ours. If we rightfully get what is ours, we satisfy our internal sense of justice.

“I got a new truck and justice has been done!”

But that’s all it is — a sales pitch.

Don’t conflate “I deserve” with “I desire.”

I am easily fooled, especially by this question. 

I don’t think of it that way, of course. But that’s the bald-faced truth. 

The perpetrator of the lies is none other than Myself — my ego, my vanity, my desires. Many times the biggest lies are spun around spending my money. 

The saying goes, “You gotta spend money to make money.” That’s true sometimes. You can’t get paid to cut lawns without a lawn mower. 

“There is no more profitable investment than investing in yourself.” Also, right on point. You can’t be a cyclist without a bicycle, and you can’t be a doctor without a college degree. 

When presented with a financial choice, especially a large one, I often frame it as a question: Is it an investment?

I feel better if Myself can convince myself that, yes, this is an investment because an investment is worth the cost. 

But is it true?

Or, if it’s partially true, do I need this particular thing with the extra gobbledygook, and hence the extra cost? 

Myself is conniving and like The World, is very good at getting what it wants. But the better I get at recognizing Myself in the equation, the better I get at making decisions.

What’s the question that Yourself uses to fool you?

Don’t taxi to the runway until you’ve run the pre-flight checklist. You may crash.
Don’t scale the cliff without ensuring your partner has the belay. You may fall.
Don’t forget to double-check the trailer connections. You may cause an accident.

But also…

Don’t volunteer to give the presentation. You may embarrass yourself.
Don’t start a business. You may fail.
Don’t take responsibility. You may get blamed.

Better safe than sorry is sometimes good advice. But it’s not universally good advice.

It’s fat bear week. Who knew?

The bear is hungry. 

Searching for food, she comes upon Jack and Jerry cutting wood in the forest. Jack and Jerry spot the bear, glance at each other in terror, and …

Meritocracy

They take off running in the same direction.  

The bear immediately follows. At 25 yards, Jack has fallen behind. Jack is slower, or tripped on a root, or turned to look. 

At 50 yards, the bear overcomes Jack and satisfies her hunger.  

Luck

They take off running in different directions.  

The bear makes a split-second decision and follows Jerry. Maybe she thinks Jerry looks juicier. Maybe she locked her eyes on him because he had a red shirt. Maybe she’s right-handed.

At 50 yards, the bear overcomes Jerry and satisfies her hunger.  

Natural Selection

Jack pulls out his bear spray, and Jerry pulls out his gun.

As the bear charges, they stay together. When she is 25 feet away, Jack unleashes the fog of capsaicin, which stops her in her tracks, dazed and confused. 

Jerry raises his gun, takes aim, and finishes the job.

God 

Jack and Jerry freeze as she spots them.  

She prowls forward, teeth bared, maneuvering left and right to keep them in front. At 30 feet, she stops and rears back to begin the final rush. When she reaches full height, front legs in the air, a percussive blast from 100 yards away fills the air. 

The bear cries out and falls where she is.