Intolerant of Intolerance
Good morning, afternoon or evening, this is the Paul Truesdell Podcast, episode 589. The title is
Intolerant of Intolerance
This is Book Four, of a book I am wrapping up, titled, The Efficient Republic, a book of books where I connect the dots. Book Four is titled: Random and Unrelated and this is Chapter One
So this is the raw video of the recording of the podcast episode, so you and I will each sit back and do our thing together. I am going to have a coffee and some water as I move along, feel free to stop this and do the same. Ah the advantage of on demand audio and video.
Okay, let’s begin.
Most people who have lived a few decades have learned to tell the difference between a person who disagrees with them and a person who wants to tear them down. This book is a little different from the three before it. Each chapter stands on its own, and they will range from finance to insurance to cooking and a good deal in between. But every one of them is connected, in one way or another, to what we saw in this latest election and to the principles of The Efficient Republic. This first chapter is about positivity, seen from a different angle.
Over the course of the last several years, I have become intolerant of intolerance. That sounds like an oxymoron, but it is not. I have found that too many people are hardwired to be, generally speaking, mean. And I have decided that I do not have to make room for them.
The Ones Who Don't Fit
Let me be clear about who I am not talking about. Some people are quiet and docile, and the connection does not happen. The engagement does not fit. It may be my physicality, my intellect, or my background. Something does not work, or the timing is off. Their curiosity perks up and peaks, but action does not follow. I get that, and I have no quarrel with it.
In sales, we have a phrase for that: every no is one step closer to a yes. A no from a person who listened, thought it over, and decided it was not for him is an honest answer. It is rejection, and rejection is part of doing business and part of living among other people. Anyone who has made a living by asking for the order has heard more no's than yes's, and the good ones learned to say thank you and move on to the next call.
The Mud Throwers
What I do not understand are the people who throw mud: the negative ones, the internet trolls. It does not bother me, because I truly look down on those people, and I mean that when I say it. I view them with pity. I view them as mentally ill. I view them as defective. They are the misfit toys of life.
Here's something most people probably haven't seen, and it explains why the phrase fits so well. In 1964, a television special called Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer introduced the Island of Misfit Toys, a place for a Charlie-in-the-Box, a train with square wheels, and a water pistol that shoots jelly. Many of us watched it every December for decades. The difference is that the toys on that island wanted to be useful. They wanted to be loved and put to work. The misfits I am talking about get on the internet and stir up trouble. They are the pot stirrers, and they have no interest in being useful at all.
I am reminded of two things my mother used to say. The first was, "You cannot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear." The second came from church. Growing up, much of our social life took place in the church setting, and every so often someone there would say something that should not have been said. Afterward, my mother would turn to my father and say, "Oh my, if only she had kept her mouth shut and let everybody think she was stupid, rather than open it and remove all doubt."
Psychologists have studied why the mud throwers get so much attention. In 2001, Roy Baumeister and three colleagues published a paper with a title that says it all: "Bad Is Stronger Than Good." They found that negative events, negative feedback, and negative people leave a deeper and longer-lasting mark on us than positive ones of the same size. Researchers call it the negativity bias. In plain terms, one rotten apple gets more of your attention than a whole basket of good ones, and the troll counts on that.
So here is my intolerance for intolerance. I have found that people are more and more expressive of negativity today. They are unhappy, and they want everybody else to be unhappy. And they want, right now, what many of us have worked a lifetime for, and continue to work for. I do not want anything to do with those people.
We saw this in the latest election. The social media trolls set the agenda in too many places, and a good many Republicans let them. Book Two made the point that Republicans win when they are articulate and prepared, and lose when the trolls control the conversation. Book Three made the point that envy of what is good is a very old and very dangerous thing. The internet troll is envy with a keyboard.
Three Conclusions
Having stepped back from the noise, I have come to three pretty solid conclusions.
The first is that the picture of reality we see and share changes other people, and it can move them from paralysis to action. The stories we tell about the world predict whether we believe our own effort matters, and whether we will act to make things better or stay stuck, inert, and powerless. Our stories reflect our mindset, the way we look at a situation and put the facts together. A story that is positive, optimistic, and focused on solutions, even when it begins in hard circumstances, gives people hope and convinces them that change is possible and that their behavior counts.
Psychologists have a name for the opposite. In 1967, Martin Seligman described learned helplessness, the condition in which a person, after enough setbacks he could not control, stops trying even when the situation changes and success becomes possible. In plain terms, the dog that was shocked no matter what it did eventually lay down and took it, even after the gate was opened. Much of what the trolls broadcast is an invitation to learned helplessness: nothing works, everyone is corrupt, your vote does not count. Change the story from paralysis to action, and you multiply your power to move other people.
The second conclusion is that our stories predict more than happiness. They predict outcomes in business, in education, and in health, including engagement, intelligence, energy, and profitability. Research in positive psychology and neuroscience has shown that small changes in the way we talk to ourselves and to others ripple out into measurably higher productivity, better performance ratings, higher sales, and lower stress.
Here's something else most people probably haven't seen. In 1968, the psychologist Robert Rosenthal and an elementary school principal named Lenore Jacobson published a study called Pygmalion in the Classroom. They told teachers that certain students, chosen at random, were about to bloom academically. By the end of the year, many of those students had gained more on intelligence tests than their classmates. Nothing had changed but the story the teachers believed about them. In plain terms, people tend to rise or fall to the level of the story told about them, and that is as true in an office, a family, or a political club as it is in a classroom.
The third conclusion is that we are all broadcasters. We are constantly sending information to other people, even when we do not say a word. Managers broadcast to their teams in meetings about new opportunities in the industry. Coworkers broadcast to one another about whether a project will succeed. Clients broadcast to prospective clients about a company's service. Parents broadcast to their children about how to look at the challenges they face at school. Even the quietest introvert broadcasts his reaction to what others are saying through his face, his posture, and his silence. And the messages we choose to broadcast shape how other people see the world and how they operate in it.
Social scientists call this emotional contagion. In the early 1990s, Elaine Hatfield, John Cacioppo, and Richard Rapson showed that people tend to catch the emotions of those around them, often without realizing it, by unconsciously mimicking their expressions, their tone, and their posture. In plain terms, moods spread like colds. Spend an evening with a complainer, and you go home tired. Spend it with someone who is building something, and you go home with ideas.
What I Choose to Broadcast
Before we can influence others, we have to see how much power we have to do it. That is the point of this chapter. The troll understands that power and uses it to spread misery. Most good people underestimate it and keep their good news to themselves.
Mindset is the first of the seven components of wealth and status, the COWS, and this is why. The way you see the world is the story you broadcast, and the story you broadcast shapes your family, your clients, your community, and, in the end, your country. I choose to broadcast what works, what can be built, and what can be fixed. In the Blueprint, I said do not wrestle with pigs. Here is the other half of that advice: do not let the pigs set the tone in your house, your business, or your club. Turn off the channel. Unfriend, unfollow, and walk away, and put your energy into the people who want to build.
The Idiocracy is believing that the loudest voice in the comment section speaks for anyone but itself.
My friends, I am intolerant of intolerance, and I am at peace with it. The quiet ones who say no are welcome, because every no is one step closer to a yes. The mud throwers are not, and I will not spend a minute of my life trying to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. We are all broadcasters. Choose the story you send out, because somebody is listening, and the right story can move a family, a business, or a country from paralysis to action. This country has done it before, and it will do it again.
Think about it.
Intolerant of Intolerance
This is Book Four, of a book I am wrapping up, titled, The Efficient Republic, a book of books where I connect the dots. Book Four is titled: Random and Unrelated and this is Chapter One
So this is the raw video of the recording of the podcast episode, so you and I will each sit back and do our thing together. I am going to have a coffee and some water as I move along, feel free to stop this and do the same. Ah the advantage of on demand audio and video.
Okay, let’s begin.
Most people who have lived a few decades have learned to tell the difference between a person who disagrees with them and a person who wants to tear them down. This book is a little different from the three before it. Each chapter stands on its own, and they will range from finance to insurance to cooking and a good deal in between. But every one of them is connected, in one way or another, to what we saw in this latest election and to the principles of The Efficient Republic. This first chapter is about positivity, seen from a different angle.
Over the course of the last several years, I have become intolerant of intolerance. That sounds like an oxymoron, but it is not. I have found that too many people are hardwired to be, generally speaking, mean. And I have decided that I do not have to make room for them.
The Ones Who Don't Fit
Let me be clear about who I am not talking about. Some people are quiet and docile, and the connection does not happen. The engagement does not fit. It may be my physicality, my intellect, or my background. Something does not work, or the timing is off. Their curiosity perks up and peaks, but action does not follow. I get that, and I have no quarrel with it.
In sales, we have a phrase for that: every no is one step closer to a yes. A no from a person who listened, thought it over, and decided it was not for him is an honest answer. It is rejection, and rejection is part of doing business and part of living among other people. Anyone who has made a living by asking for the order has heard more no's than yes's, and the good ones learned to say thank you and move on to the next call.
The Mud Throwers
What I do not understand are the people who throw mud: the negative ones, the internet trolls. It does not bother me, because I truly look down on those people, and I mean that when I say it. I view them with pity. I view them as mentally ill. I view them as defective. They are the misfit toys of life.
Here's something most people probably haven't seen, and it explains why the phrase fits so well. In 1964, a television special called Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer introduced the Island of Misfit Toys, a place for a Charlie-in-the-Box, a train with square wheels, and a water pistol that shoots jelly. Many of us watched it every December for decades. The difference is that the toys on that island wanted to be useful. They wanted to be loved and put to work. The misfits I am talking about get on the internet and stir up trouble. They are the pot stirrers, and they have no interest in being useful at all.
I am reminded of two things my mother used to say. The first was, "You cannot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear." The second came from church. Growing up, much of our social life took place in the church setting, and every so often someone there would say something that should not have been said. Afterward, my mother would turn to my father and say, "Oh my, if only she had kept her mouth shut and let everybody think she was stupid, rather than open it and remove all doubt."
Psychologists have studied why the mud throwers get so much attention. In 2001, Roy Baumeister and three colleagues published a paper with a title that says it all: "Bad Is Stronger Than Good." They found that negative events, negative feedback, and negative people leave a deeper and longer-lasting mark on us than positive ones of the same size. Researchers call it the negativity bias. In plain terms, one rotten apple gets more of your attention than a whole basket of good ones, and the troll counts on that.
So here is my intolerance for intolerance. I have found that people are more and more expressive of negativity today. They are unhappy, and they want everybody else to be unhappy. And they want, right now, what many of us have worked a lifetime for, and continue to work for. I do not want anything to do with those people.
We saw this in the latest election. The social media trolls set the agenda in too many places, and a good many Republicans let them. Book Two made the point that Republicans win when they are articulate and prepared, and lose when the trolls control the conversation. Book Three made the point that envy of what is good is a very old and very dangerous thing. The internet troll is envy with a keyboard.
Three Conclusions
Having stepped back from the noise, I have come to three pretty solid conclusions.
The first is that the picture of reality we see and share changes other people, and it can move them from paralysis to action. The stories we tell about the world predict whether we believe our own effort matters, and whether we will act to make things better or stay stuck, inert, and powerless. Our stories reflect our mindset, the way we look at a situation and put the facts together. A story that is positive, optimistic, and focused on solutions, even when it begins in hard circumstances, gives people hope and convinces them that change is possible and that their behavior counts.
Psychologists have a name for the opposite. In 1967, Martin Seligman described learned helplessness, the condition in which a person, after enough setbacks he could not control, stops trying even when the situation changes and success becomes possible. In plain terms, the dog that was shocked no matter what it did eventually lay down and took it, even after the gate was opened. Much of what the trolls broadcast is an invitation to learned helplessness: nothing works, everyone is corrupt, your vote does not count. Change the story from paralysis to action, and you multiply your power to move other people.
The second conclusion is that our stories predict more than happiness. They predict outcomes in business, in education, and in health, including engagement, intelligence, energy, and profitability. Research in positive psychology and neuroscience has shown that small changes in the way we talk to ourselves and to others ripple out into measurably higher productivity, better performance ratings, higher sales, and lower stress.
Here's something else most people probably haven't seen. In 1968, the psychologist Robert Rosenthal and an elementary school principal named Lenore Jacobson published a study called Pygmalion in the Classroom. They told teachers that certain students, chosen at random, were about to bloom academically. By the end of the year, many of those students had gained more on intelligence tests than their classmates. Nothing had changed but the story the teachers believed about them. In plain terms, people tend to rise or fall to the level of the story told about them, and that is as true in an office, a family, or a political club as it is in a classroom.
The third conclusion is that we are all broadcasters. We are constantly sending information to other people, even when we do not say a word. Managers broadcast to their teams in meetings about new opportunities in the industry. Coworkers broadcast to one another about whether a project will succeed. Clients broadcast to prospective clients about a company's service. Parents broadcast to their children about how to look at the challenges they face at school. Even the quietest introvert broadcasts his reaction to what others are saying through his face, his posture, and his silence. And the messages we choose to broadcast shape how other people see the world and how they operate in it.
Social scientists call this emotional contagion. In the early 1990s, Elaine Hatfield, John Cacioppo, and Richard Rapson showed that people tend to catch the emotions of those around them, often without realizing it, by unconsciously mimicking their expressions, their tone, and their posture. In plain terms, moods spread like colds. Spend an evening with a complainer, and you go home tired. Spend it with someone who is building something, and you go home with ideas.
What I Choose to Broadcast
Before we can influence others, we have to see how much power we have to do it. That is the point of this chapter. The troll understands that power and uses it to spread misery. Most good people underestimate it and keep their good news to themselves.
Mindset is the first of the seven components of wealth and status, the COWS, and this is why. The way you see the world is the story you broadcast, and the story you broadcast shapes your family, your clients, your community, and, in the end, your country. I choose to broadcast what works, what can be built, and what can be fixed. In the Blueprint, I said do not wrestle with pigs. Here is the other half of that advice: do not let the pigs set the tone in your house, your business, or your club. Turn off the channel. Unfriend, unfollow, and walk away, and put your energy into the people who want to build.
The Idiocracy is believing that the loudest voice in the comment section speaks for anyone but itself.
My friends, I am intolerant of intolerance, and I am at peace with it. The quiet ones who say no are welcome, because every no is one step closer to a yes. The mud throwers are not, and I will not spend a minute of my life trying to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. We are all broadcasters. Choose the story you send out, because somebody is listening, and the right story can move a family, a business, or a country from paralysis to action. This country has done it before, and it will do it again.
Think about it.