When I was the Dutch Judo champion in 1991, I prepared hard for the tournaments that led up to the European championship, which was held in May. Winning that tournament would be the first step toward my Olympic dream. If I won a medal, I would be selected for the Dutch Olympic team for Barcelona in 1992. After I was selected, I could prepare myself and fully focus on the games—no more selection tournaments and no uncertainties. I could spend every day in preparation for my performance on July 30, 1992. In Holland I was the man to beat in my weight category. I felt strong, and self-confident and was ready for each competition prior to the European championship. It felt like an easy ride. I thought, “Let’s do some tournaments in the spring, train hard like always, and focus on a medal in May.” No one else in Holland could block my road. “Nobody,” I thought, “except my trainer.” Looking back on that period, my trainer probably noticed this attitude. In spring 1991, the Dutch national team participated in a selection tournament in Russia. The national Dutch team in Judo wasn’t like a football team or an ice hockey team, where the players participate as a team. Judo athletes compete individually in different weight classes from bantam weight through heavyweight. (I competed in the light middleweight class.) We all traveled at the same time and wore the same outfit, orange, of course. The Dutch team met at Schiphol airport to travel to Russia. We always waited until everyone on the team was at the airport before checking in. As always, Kees and I were some of the first to arrive. To kill time until everybody arrived, I was joking around with other team members when I saw someone I didn’t want to be there. He was also a Judo player—the runner-up in my weight category. He joined the team, wore the same orange outfit as the rest of us, and checked in for the flight to Russia. I was upset and angry. I marched over to my coach and told him exactly how I felt about the other athlete’s presence. I told my coach, “I don’t trust you anymore.” During the three-and-a-half-hour flight to Russia, I did not say anything. My thoughts went wild. When I checked into my room at the hotel, my anger and frustration switched to motivation. “Is that guy really thinking that he can block my Olympic dream?” I thought. “No way!” My whole body was alert and focused. The competition started the next day at 7 a.m. with the weigh-in. At a Judo tournament, all Judo players (between 50 and 80 players per weight class) are weighed in the morning. If an athlete’s weight is four ounces too heavy—less than a medium-size cup of coffee—the athlete is disqualified. I was the first one on the scale and qualified. I did a warm-up as never before, and every part of me—body and brain—was ready to perform. At the end of the day, I won the silver medal. A Russian guy beat me in the finals. I must admit, he was stronger that day. This silver medal was a good measurement of where I was on my Olympic journey. My archnemesis did well. He won three fights, which motivated me during the day to stay focused and alert. He lost his fourth fight and failed to move to the next round. His tournament was over, and I was in the final. Did I lose the final because I knew he couldn’t beat me anymore? I’ll never know, but I think that was the main reason. After the tournament, my coach came to me, and we sat down on a wooden bench. “Are you still angry?” he asked. How could I be angry with a silver medal around my neck? Then he said slowly, “You needed friction to perform.” He explained that he had been observing my behavior during the training leading up to that tournament. I was protected, felt safe, why worry? It was too easy. He needed my fire to return. I told him he took a risk. What would have happened if the other guy had won silver? “I know what you think, and I know what I’m doing,” was all he said. The same is true for Principle 5, “Create Friction and Direction.” If the learning is too easy, people are not motivated; if your learning event is too predictable, people don’t stay motivated. If it’s too clear what the reinforcement is about, their brains get lazy. When you create friction and direction, you must find a balance between the two. Creating friction and direction at the same time is always a challenge. The reason why you should balance friction and direction is simple: Active brains drive engagement, which is needed to increase participation. This principle will help you to find the perfect balance between how much direction (or guidance) your learners need and how much friction they can handle before you lose them (see Figure 11.1). I define friction as “a situation when the brain needs to work because the presented situation and/or question is not clear.” Friction has nothing to do with resistance to your reinforcement program. Just as my coach created friction in my brain by including the Dutch guy I didn’t like on our trip to Russia, you need to do something to get your learners’ brains fully alert. To create friction and activate learners’ brains, you should: Later in this chapter, I explain how you can create friction in your reinforcement program. “I know what you think, and I know what I’m doing” is what my coach told me in Russia. That is direction. If you use the reinforcement objectives and understand your learners, you can guide them. Actually, you don’t guide them as much as you prevent them from getting lost and dropping out. You don’t want learners to drop out. To create direction and avoid dropout: Later in this chapter, I explain how to put direction to work in your reinforcement program. It is not easy to combine the techniques to create friction with the techniques to create direction. You should know what happens with your learners if you create a program with too little or too much friction in combination with too little or too much direction. In Figure 11.2, you see the effect of different combinations of friction and direction. Here is a breakdown of each of these combinations: Many designers of reinforcement programs have no difficulty in giving direction. The challenge lies in daring to create friction. After you create friction, the next question is: “How much guidance do my learners need?” When I teach inexperienced reinforcement designers, I always tell them, “Give as little direction as possible.” Challenge yourself in every reinforcement program and ask yourself, “How much is too much?” In Principle 5, “Create Friction and Direction,” the word “and” is important. It’s the combination that drives the engagement. To create friction, you must activate learners’ brains. But it’s difficult to engage brains and keep them active. When you add friction to direction, you keep your learners’ brains alert. They think: What’s new? How do I solve this challenge? How does this new information fit into all the information I already have? What do I need to do? And so on. The learners’ brains need to work. To avoid predictability, simply send your reinforcement messages at different times. If all of your reinforcement messages are sent at 9 a.m. on the same day of the week, your learners will not be curious. Don’t patterns in your series of messages. I often see messages that start with an assignment, then ask for a reflection, and finish with a task to address improvement. It’s a common pattern. Why not switch the order? If you want to give an assignment, start with the question to determine specific improvement points. A learner’s brain will ask, “Why do I have to do this?” and “Is it logical to answer this question right now?” This occurs in the brain before the person even considers an answer to the question. Use this form of friction to keep learners’ brains alert. If you work with scenarios, you can use the learners’ imagination to create friction. Have you ever read a book and then seen the movie? Nine out of 10 people will tell you that the movie was not as good as the book. Why? When we read a book, our brains create detailed pictures of the characters and setting. Our brains are actively involved in creating the whole story. While we are watching the movie, we just look at the place the director has created and watch the main characters as they are portrayed by actors. How do you find the right balance between direction and friction in these scenarios? Focus on direction, just enough so your learners don’t get lost in the content. Less is more. Leave something to the imagination. You don’t have to be the Steven Spielberg of reinforcement programs. In your reinforcement program, you can also stimulate social friction. If your learners talk with other learners about the ways they applied new knowledge and skills, it will affect their own performance. Discussing and sharing experiences, forces the brain to recall and analyze its experiences. This naturally increases engagement. If you take a closer look at the text you use in your messages, you may notice that much of your message has little to no effect on the learners. Their brains are not triggered at all. Common mistakes in messages that kill brain activity include using wording like the following: The words you use in your reinforcement messages are crucial. Most training materials are written in the third person (he, she, it). When you write reinforcement messages, always use the second person (you). This creates a stronger connection to the learners and, therefore, much more impact. Table 11.1 shows you some examples. Write in the second person (you). Table 11.1. Second-Person vs. Third-Person Wording To create direction, you also need to activate the learners’ brains. There is a fine line between friction and direction. When you provide direction, you avoid losing learners because they don’t understand the bigger picture and the purpose. With the right direction, learners can see the bigger picture and understand your program’s structure. Keep in mind that their brains need to work, too. If you provide too much direction, you create lazy brains. When you give an assignment, or create a learning moment, try to integrate the behavior you want to see. This behavior is the bigger picture, your goals for this reinforcement program. For example, “Asking open-ended questions should be second nature during all your sales meetings. During the next three meetings, focus on XYZ.” Don’t miss this opportunity, and ask the learners to focus on XYZ only during the next three meetings. As designer of the reinforcement program, you know exactly when the learners have a busy week or if a week is less intense. To give direction means also helping the learners know what they can expect. You can tailor your messages before a busy week: “Next week will be a power week. Make sure you plan enough time to prepare your learning moments.” Give the learners summaries at certain times, like: “During the last two weeks you worked hard to apply your questioning skills. In the next two weeks you will receive assignments on your questioning skills.” Don’t go into too much detail, but mention the bigger picture. Providing too much detail makes your learners’ brains lazy. A common pitfall in the structure explanation is to explain why your learners have to do, to learn, to answer, or to evaluate. Explaining the “why” is not giving direction; it’s proving your accountability, not theirs.THE BASICS OF FRICTION AND DIRECTION
Friction
Direction
BALANCING FRICTION AND DIRECTION
PUTTING FRICTION TO WORK
Timing and patterns
Imagination
Social friction
Message content
Second Person
Third Person
Your client
The client
You
The leader or the . . .
Your market
The market
In your role
At company X
PUTTING DIRECTION TO WORK
Refer to the objectives
Share timing
Structure explanation
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