Dan Erwin

4 Key Attitudes of Critical Thinking

As a result of apartment renovation and moving upstairs, a number of my first floor and new second floor neighbors have been in my apartment. They wanted to see my new digs. One of the most striking features of their perusal is a seemingly profound lack of curiosity and very little ability to “notice.” “You have a beautiful apartment,” most respond. But what’s intriguing is what they don’t see unless I call attention to it. And these are not ill-educated people.

I have nearly 45 photos, sculptures, water colors, porcelains and artifacts hanging on the walls—all hung by a professional. One of the most gorgeous is an authentic Navajo rug, along with a recent painting of Indian tribeswomen. Not a single person mentioned one unique, beautiful, artistic hanging, a branch of spruce, covered with dripped copper. I have an extensive library, approximately 1500 volumes, yet no one gave it more than a glance. Not a single question was asked about any of the artifacts.

Even more sad than not noticing my personal context is the seeming lack of awareness of how context actually impacts each of as individuals and as members of a work team. So in the weeks following their visit to my apartment there was no sense they knew me any better, no attempt to get to know me better and no inherent projections of how I would respond to their conversations. The kind of familiarity information that can surface implicitly and explicitly in conversations was completely absent. And I’ve been watching and looking for that knowledge. But it was just never there in any of the dozen neighbor’s conversations. The underlying attitude of curiosity was absent—and so they remained in their small worlds. Expressing interest—but never following through on it. Perhaps, not recognizing what they were looking at or knowing the value of asking questions.

What is critical thinking?
Critical thinking, as I use the term, is the business of identifying the complications of relevant contexts and communication, and unpacking them thoughtfully. That includes physical contexts like those I describe in the above paragraphs. Of course, it also includes all the conversation and non-conversational talk, as well as the supportive physicality seen and heard in posture. So too, movement, non-verbal, language choice, values, arguments, persuasion, written materials, and linguistic forms like small talk, narrative, questioning. Including context artifacts like book choice, pictures, paintings and architecture.

To a very high degree, success in business—and life—is tied to one’s critical thinking skills in relevant, significant situations. One of the most illuminating experiences of critical thinking about “ordinary” talk took place at one of my last executive coaching jobs. I was working with the CEO of a major East Coast mortgage firm and had finished interviewing about twenty of his colleagues in preparation for coaching. I always got to their offices much earlier than any appointment, spending time with various execs and managers in “small talk.” Uniquely, the firm insisted on paying me on an hourly basis, rather than on a project basis. I had noticed the corporate attorney, who regularly received my billings, was unhappy with my fee. Late in the process, I happened to stop by his office and after he asked me how the “project” was going, he expressed frustration with my use of time—and the large bills he was paying just for “small talk.”

Kevin Costner's "Yellowstone": "Cruel and Uncaring"

Toward the end of episode eight in the third season of Yellowstone, John Dutton (Kevin Costner) says this to his son, Kayce: “In case you haven’t noticed, it (the world) is cruel and uncaring.” And he adds, “you have to be meaner than evil--and still love your family and still enjoy a sunrise.” I could feel my skin crawling, tingling after his words. I understood my rejection immediately, but it took several days to figure out why my emotions were so strong. And why Dutton’s commitment bothered me so much.

It’s not that the words were out of sync with the storyline of the episode or the series. The entire series has been filled with gripping conflicts between good and evil, between protection of the family and property and the attempts to steal the property from the family. Often dripping with brutality. The stories in all three seasons have shown a high degree of consistency and suspense, interlaced with underlying questions about human reality. (Does this actually happen in our world today?) That’s part of the reason the show has kept my interest at very high levels. Obviously, I’m not the only committed viewer. That final episode set a ratings-record with 5.2 million viewers, claiming cable’s #1 spot, in live, same day. If you include the simulcast and encores, the closer drew 7.5M viewers on premiere night.  And it also set up the viewer for season four, next year.

More than a good show?
What bugged me so much about that narrative is that it’s reflective of the distrust of the world and the people in it, the background, for example, for our current conspiracy spasm. Both consciously and unconsciously, my person and my vocations have often circled around our trust and distrust of the community and the world—and how profoundly repetitious stories with similar distrusting values impact our relationships, vocations and communities. I don’t think of Dutton’s two sentences as merely a means for sharing information. It’s an arousing story in which we viewers have been conditioned to participate. And it appeals to our feelings rather than to our thinking. That’s what makes it so powerful and seductive, creating my intense emotional response.  

Dig into any conspiracy theory and you’ll find believers with shattered views of trust in the world, what Richard Hofstadter famously called "an arena for angry minds."

How to Read What's Not Being Said or Written

In today’s complex world, the more analytical and rhetorical tools you have, the better off. That thinking was confirmed uniquely a couple years ago when I put up a a blog on "reading subtexts.. Surprised by the comments and “thank yous,” I’ve decided to go a bit further into what my discipline of rhetoric calls “close reading.” By “close reading,” I’m referring to both print and spoken messages and to more than just the literal words. As in, “If I’m reading the vice-president correctly, he’ll reject that proposal out of hand.”  

So, when I talk about subtexts, I’m referring to covert meanings, hidden commitments, undiscussables,” or what's not said.  The meanings are not immediately clear, but over time and with context, the listener can understand what’s meant.

For example, a student goes to turn in his paper. After looking through two pages, his teacher asks, “Are you sure you want to turn this in?” The literal text is a question that asks for a yes or no. The meaning of the text is suggested by the actual words, message and action discussed. But the student understands her subtext--that his paper may have some typos, misspelling or syntax problems. By her question, she gives the student the latitude to make his own decision about the paper—or receive a lower grade.

A different tool, beyond that notion of subtext, is what does the meaning of a text do to a person’s thoughts, motives, actions or predispositions? This is the kind of analysis that is usually much more complex. It requires a richer, fuller understanding of the context—the teacher’s past comments about his writing ability.

In this larger context, the student remembers many positive comments his teacher has made about his writing. So her question means that there’s nothing wrong with the paper as such. But given the larger context, he recognizes that she’s reminding him that he’s more capable of original, creative writing. Based on the past, her question asks whether he wants to enhance his writing. So what does he think about redoing the paper, giving further thought, insight and color to his article? In sum, it’s a question about his unusual originality and creativity.

This analytical tool can be even more useful for stories, anecdotes and movies.

I watched a couple of absolutely fascinating movies over the past month. The stories and the acting in both were rich and warm. One about a heterosexual relationship and the other about gay relations. The first, the 2005 “Pride and Prejudice” starred Keira Knightly and Matthew Macfadyen. The second was the BBCs “Man in an Orange Shirt,” with Vanessa Redgrave. Curious, because of their power over me, I watched both of them a couple times...

The Most Underrated Skill in Management??

This past Spring’s issue of the MIT Sloan Review (2017) had an intriguing article with the above title, minus the question marks. “This sounds interesting,” I thought. “Wonder what they’ll say?” At the conclusion of the third paragraph the authors wrote, “We’ve come to believe that problem formulation is the single most underrated skill in all of management practice.”

Good shot guys, but not quite. After thoughtfully re-reading the entire ten-page article, I concluded, that the article was exceptionally insightful from a process standpoint. But as far as being the “most underrated” skill, it’s nonsense. Uniquely, it offers me the opportunity to challenge common business priorities that need serious rethinking. But, reflecting for just a few moments more, I was reminded of a brilliant and thought-provoking set of articles edited by the eminent psychologist, Robert Sternberg, entitled “Why smart people can be so stupid.”

The authors of “Smart people. . .” come up with a number of reasons for their conclusion. In spite of the MIT quoted research, one of the most apropos reasons for stupidity is what can be termed the mindless assimilation of social (business) biases. With their impeccable MIT Harvard reputation, these patently smart people demonstrate a bias that is clearly that of the academy. If you read widely and analytically in business, it’s obvious that thinking about people competencies is controlled by organizational behaviorists with a solely psychological background. They look solely at thinking, but not at conversing. It explains too clearly what’s going on in the MIT article. 

It’s an innocent limitation, but limiting conclusions to a single discipline, like psychology or organizational behavior, inevitably limits formulation and potentially creative solutions. Extensive research reveals that...

Can Charisma Be Learned?

There are actually two questions here: can charisma be learned, and will it positively impact business outcomes? Since I’ve worked over the years with clients to develop their charisma, I find the questions, well…amusing. Because the answers to both questions from those in the disciplines of rhetoric and communication is yes. Of course. We’ve known that for years. In fact, for centuries.

But what’s especially interesting about recent research (2011) by the psych and economics faculty at the University of Lausanne is that they look at the question from the perspective of economics in the European context, confirming the power of the discipline of charisma.

But there’s a lot more pragmatic stuff to be added to this research as well as most blogs and studies. The discipline of charisma is inevitably viewed from a public address format: a speaker addressing a group. But for career people, there are far more opportunities to practice and learn in a one-on-one or small group. Furthermore, it’s best to start adding charisma from your tool-kit early on, rather than waiting until you get a managerial promotion. It’s also far less intimidating to learn in a one-on-one or small group, than to wait until you’re a manager and have large group responsibilities.

Given my assumption, let’s ignore the research laundry list of tactics, and the unique opportunities provided by public address settings. Besides, if you gain the competencies in small groups, you can automatically transfer them to the public address context. So, skip those long lists of skills to gain the competency, and focus on just two very significant tactics that will set you on the path to charisma. Furthermore, with just a bit of reflection, these two skills for one-on-ones and small groups will readily open up other strategies..

Three Steps for Reducing Your Decision Errors

Far more often than I ever expected, I’m still in the decision-making business as a semi-retired professional. So, I was initially intrigued and then amused by an article in the MIT Sloan Review on a structured approach to strategic decisions. What caught my attention were the authors: Kahneman, Lovallo and Sibony—some really smart guys in the decision-making process. With that kind of backing and world renown authors, the Sloan Review can get your attention to the process as though it’s something really new--a way to avoid biased decisioning.

The process is not new! But it is masterful.

I first borrowed the model from Russo and Schoemaker’s Decision Traps (1989), (later upgraded to Winning Decisions (2002)). There are two differences between Kahneman’s recommendations and those of Russo and Schoemaker. The MIT article focuses on organizational decision making, while R & S focus on individual decision-making. The second difference is that the MIT article lays out more than a dozen pieces of research, dating from as recently as 2017, while R&S worked from far less research...

Doing a Better Job with People Analytics

There are some jobs that you just can’t trust algorithms to do. Yet more and more organizations are trusting algorithms to make their people decisions. Yet, writing in the Sloan Review, Wharton’s Cade Massey makes what to me is an obvious point. Objective distance is overrated. Although many in artificial intelligence think you can reason better when you’re uncorrupted by the subjective, that doesn’t follow in many people decisions.

The facts are that when you’re dealing with hiring, developing managing and trying to retain people, the better approach is about relationships and trust. That doesn’t mean you need to ignore those algorithms, but that you need to work them in tandem to people. For some analysts, “networking is not only uncomfortable, but dubious.” This mindset can be a real handicap. Being a loner eliminates the safety net of both information and goodwill. And like it or not, sometimes when you’re let go, it’s not about your skills, but about the good will and relationships you’ve failed to create.

I’ve used Richard Burt’s seminal studies on networking for years—and found that it’s applicability in organizations is profound. Decades of research reveal that people gain professional benefits –including both formal and informal power—from the quality and size of their social network—their relationships. I put “quality” first in that sentence, because some confuse size alone with the power of their networking. Quality is usually more important than size. But don’t confuse your algorithmic brain with the total of reality. Algorithms ain’t everything. And being a loner will inevitably get you the short end of the stick, and sometimes serious trouble..

The Trouble with Saints

If you’ve read sociology, you’ve probably read Max Weber. Weber (1864—1920), one of the founders of the discipline of sociology, is the update to Machiavelli. Weber's brief pamphlet, Politics as a Vocation, is the best prescription for politics, especially the politics of the past two years. So, I was both amused and delighted by a brief article in the 1/24 issue of The Economist on Max Weber’s enduring wisdom. Lecturing in the midst of German turmoil of 1918, The Economist emphasizes how his insights still make sense of politics.

Germany was in a far worse state than our Trump world. Rival Berlin factions battled for power in the streets. Several leaders were murdered. On January 28th of that year, Max Weber lectured liberal students “On Politics as a Vocation,” one of the most important contributions to modern political theory, as valuable a map to the contemporary political landscape as it was 100 years ago. (The thirty-page pamphlet is available free on the web, via Google.)

Weber was contemptuous of leaders solely determined to stick to their principles, whatever the consequences. “This ethic of conviction was the hallmark of saints, pacifists and purist revolutionaries...

The Flip Side of Happiness

Too much of a good thing can backfire. And that, research reveals, includes happiness. It’s intriguing to find significant research explaining the downside of emotions. Not least because I’ve always been intrigued with the upside of bad emotions and the downside of good emotions. Anger, for example, has an upside. And, in a never forgotten experience with a client, paranoia—at least for a lawyer—can have an upside too.

American culture is all about the pursuit of happiness. We’ve institutionalized that pursuit in the Declaration of Independence. But we understand the governmental caveats to that pursuit to assume also that we don't do anything illegal or violate the rights of others.

Still, I’m not a happiness-hater. Normally I have more than my fair share of happiness...

The Better Decision is Unconscious

You’ve just moved out of state and are looking for a new house in the new location. The local real-estate broker informs you elaborately about several available houses and takes you on a tour. After a couple hours you find yourself completely lost.

The houses differ so many ways that you find yourself completely lost. You’re not certain you can actually make a sound choice. One house is bigger than the others, and also more expensive. You’ve been promoted to director, not vice-president. Another house has a beautiful garden, a great opportunity for you and your wife to unwind and also enjoy some fresh vegetables. Still a third house is a rickety old mansion. It has three bathrooms, one of them with Tuscany marble. A glorious room. . .

If you want to be great at something, who should you learn from?

In an absolutely fascinating opinion article, Adam Grant opined that "those who can do, can't teach." I laughed as soon as I saw the title. It was pretty clear to me where he was going. Grant argues rightly that the greatest experts in a subject are not necessarily the best teachers. My usual way of getting to this issue is to tell an entry-level person that the best coach will never be more than two levels above you. Beyond that, the expert will be highly abstract, assume the unassumable about you, and won't be able to put the skills in a concrete package.

But Grant's way of going at the issue is so very useful, it needs to be added to your toolkit for coach selection. 

First, pay attention to how long since the teacher studied the material. Ignore the top universities' boast about how most of their classes are taught by top faculty. The best teachers are probably grad students who just learned the material and know what it's like to be a beginner. In my post-doc work, I signed up for a course in adult learning and was initially disappointed that it was going to be taught by a teaching assistant, a grad student in his last year of PhD. From the start, he surprised me with his thoroughness. Later in the semester the top prof in the field subbed for his grad student when he had a bad case of the flu. Wow, was I glad the TA was teaching. The expert couldn't get the cookies on the bottom shelf for us no matter how many questions we asked...