THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE

              Raised eyebrows.

              The Trojan Horse.

              A wrinkled forehead.

              Japan attacks Pearl Harbor.

Today, our lives are spattered with surprise – whether we express it verbally, facially, through startled or synchronized actions.  Nothing says that better than dialing into the news or following a particular account through all its iterations.  [Think of the latest Netflix phenomenon, the Making a Murderer.]

On the other hand, our work lives, for many reasons, are fairly immune from surprises.  We’re informed about company happenings, exchange information with colleagues, and labor pretty hard to get our jobs done well.

Or are we protected?  In days of mergers and acquisitions, of stock markets reacting to every little up or downtick, and of corporate cost consciousness infiltrating many activities, surprise has got to be a staple of our lives – and managing it, commonplace. 

How to do that?  Obviously, reinforcing good words on how to deal with change is a given.  Many learning and development gurus usually recommend a basic course or book or module.  Or exploring on your own and with a team.

There’s also another path – one that can be embedded weekly.  Which is the telling of stories with a surprise element.   It can be communicated in a series of narratives or ongoing conversations.  Or simply a look at the business’ history to demonstrate how surprise is usually not, really truly, an out-of-the-blue startle.

Shock, after all, is not a strategy.

WHAT WE LEARNED FROM UNCLE SAM ... (AND THE QUEEN)

A slightly improved  ‘please pay your taxes’ letter netted the U.K. 15 percent in unexpected revenues.

A ten percent cut in military energy expenditures was predicted when processes were changed in mid-air refueling, in vehicle usage, and in equipment handling.

And for many years, experts have stated that highway speeds of 60 mph, reduced from 70 mph, would save 2 percent of all U.S. household energy.

Common sense?  Well, sorta.  Within the relatively new discipline of behavioral science, changes in human actions and reactions can account for some amazing results.  And though in many cases academics rule  this philosophy and these procedures, it’s we as communicators and marketers and designers who make transitions happen.

Think with us here as we expostulate on three of ‘their’ principles:

  • Frame the change in language that appeals to the audience.  Hmmm:  Ever send the same message to front-line customer service reps as you would to an R&D organization?
  • There’s a bias towards the status quo.  Benefits folks will swear on a stack of comp statements that the choice to opt out of a new program yields a higher number of recruits than making an active choice … or opting in.
  • Make it easy.  We favor checklists, fill in the blanks, almost anything that’s a snap to finish and send.

A few years ago, the U.K.’s Behavioral Insights Team, with a budget of a mill or so (in US $$), performed so well that the government now mandates behavioral science as a civil servant course.  Business, take notes!

THE MEDIA ... AND THE MAN-NERS

It started in New York.

[Of course.  But betcha San Francisco ain’t far behind.]

The media, yes, from coast to coast, has glommed onto a phenomenon known as “manspreading,” where men take up more than their fair share of seats with legs opened in a V-shape.  Public campaigns are now being waged in Manhattan via subway posters and publicity.  The tag?  “Dude, really” with a Courtesy Counts banner.

News reports and editorials make light of the practice, even though many females are outraged – and snapping pix to share on social media.  A Philadelphia spokesperson for a similar campaign denies it’s an endemic practice (though we in the Polar Vortex city claim otherwise). 

What will be fascinating, if metrics are included, is to see the behavior change and the numbers.  Visuals and media coverage notwithstanding, we guarantee that it’ll take more than an ad/PR war to confine the offending males to one seat. 

Ask change experts: 

  • Train a gaggle of key spokespeople to hop on and off trains and (nicely) confront the manspreaders. 
  • Give subway conductors a few public announcements to voice at every stop (until all 8-something million New Yorkers get the message). 
  • Con native celebrities to film a few PSAs … for social media, in taxis, on the Web.
  • Tag it to the cause of sustainability – and making sure everyone has a fair ride.

Is rider etiquette all that important?  Change starts small …

BEHAVIORAL MUSINGS

We’ve resisted adding our two-cents’ worth for quite some time.

After all, the debate started in the early 1990s, when email became a way of life.  That’s a long time to rage.

Today, opinionators and etiquette mavens, corporate security-types and bloggers, technologists and journalists offer solutions, ranging from more software (argh!) that will underwhelm the overload to Friday bans.  Here’s a sampling:

  • Strive for Inbox Zero.  [Then, what else will we have time for?]
  • Buy smart mail filters.  [On top of what we’re already charged for service?]
  • Set a time limit.  [Alarm clocks aren’t a good idea – they’re scary.]
  • Don’t sign up for junk.  [Your comment here … ]
  • Prioritize.  [If we could do that …]

Look at the suggestions:  They’re all driven by behaviors, good and not-so-good.  Much of which, in our worldview, is caused by some pretty common emotions:

  • ‘Suppose I overlook a critical time-sensitive message from my boss … and then fail on an assignment?’ [Fear]
  • ‘I’ll miss something important.’  [Uncertainty.]
  • ‘I don’t think I can manage without checking email.’ [Doubt]

Even with many unspoken concerns about managing email, the FUDs (fear-uncertainty-doubt) in many lives tend to dominate.  With 28 percent of our time spent writing, reading, and answering email (McKinsey), with 13 hours each week devoted to our beloved monster, and with double-digit email growth expected for the near term (Radicati Group), it’s time for a change.  Of the individual kind.

Anyone for establishing Emailers Anonymous?