In the summer of 1971, when I was four years old, my parents let me play in the garden behind our house. As little kids do, I liked to discover the world. Of course, I did not always do what my mother told me to do: “Don’t play with the flowers.” “Stay on the grass.” “Don’t throw the football over the fence.”

The more my mother told me what to do, the more I wondered: “What if I don’t show that behavior?” (I probably didn’t ask that specific question in those words at that age.)

When my mother told me to do or not to do something, I often did the opposite. When she said, “Don’t throw your football over the fence,” she triggered me to see what would happen if I threw the ball over the fence. And of course, I did.

My mother made it clear that she did not like what she had seen. She told me to go to the neighbor’s house, explain what I had done, and ask whether I could get my football back. I knew this was a serious command, so I listened to my mother.

Shy and afraid, I went to the front door of the neighbor’s house and rang their bell. When they opened the door, I explained what had happened, and I apologized for my behavior. The neighbor told me I could get my football from the garden behind their house.

When I entered their garden, I saw a wash line where a big white Japanese suit was hanging in the sun. My red plastic football lay under the suit. I was fascinated by the white suit, but I was also afraid to look at the other side of that suit. Was there a mud spot on it from my ball?

The neighbor saw my reaction and explained that the white suit was a Japanese Judo suit. I started to ask questions like: “Why do you have that suit?” “Why do you use it?” “Why is it so white?” “Why? . . . Why? . . . Why?” You know how small kids love to ask questions. They are curious and want to know everything.

The neighbor explained that his son Maarten was a Judo player and member of the national Dutch Judo team. He invited me to meet his son the following weekend. Maarten and I spent many hours after that playing as if we were Japanese fighters in the biggest Judo tournaments in the world.

This is how my behavior changed and I got my start eventually to become a professional Judo player. This book is the latest part of my story.

Please understand this anecdote correctly. Fascination and curiosity about the unknown (Flow Zone) drives possible behavior change. Some people think that because I did not listen to my mother and did not show the desired behavior, those were my start of my behavior change toward becoming a professional Judo player. If that is the secret to successfully changing behavior and creating lasting impact, you don’t need The 7 Principles of Reinforcement (just kidding). The daily practice required to change behavior shows the importance of balancing The 7 Principles and keeping the learner in the center.

Behavior change is a process. Before we started learning Judo, Kees and I were normal kids who liked to be active. The combination of training and reinforcement transformed us into Judo champions. Without training reinforcement from our coach, we would never have made it to that level.

When it comes to corporate training, solutions offered in the learning industry are good at regurgitating lessons and reminding learners of what they’ve been taught, but they don’t reinforce training events, which is required to change lasting behavior.

Throughout this book, we’ve used our personal experiences in Judo to inspire you to embrace behavior change. Just as Olympic athletes need a coach and structure, the people whose behavior you are seeking to change need guidance and a methodology. Even the coaches of top athletes use The 7 Principles of Reinforcement to guarantee the transfer of knowledge and skills learned during training into skills executed during competitions.

Do you remember the two questions my coach asked me when he came into that small locker room in 1987? “Do you want to become an Olympic champion?” and “Is it also your choice?” The rest of my life has been a consequence of my answer to the second question.

If I ask, “Do you want to create an effective reinforcement program?” your answer will probably be “Yes, I do.” The second question may be more difficult to answer. Answering yes means you must challenge yourself and continually find a perfect balance of The 7 Principles.

You have learned that reinforcement is so much more than cutting your training content into little pieces and sending the pieces to your learners. Your learners’ mind-set influences the results of your reinforcement program. You now know how the brain works, why your learners forget, and how to overcome the forgetting curve.

You also understand that behavior change always happens in 3 phases. You cannot skip a phase. Learners respond to each phase differently. If your learners understand why they should change, the next question is how to change. Only when your learners can answer the why and how questions can lasting behavior change be achieved.

To help your learners in these phases, you realize the value of repetition, are aware of the power of spaced learning, and know that it’s all about sending the right messages at the right time. To determine these messages and their timing, you don’t use the training goals, but instead determine the reinforcement objectives. Based on an active verb, you create a series of messages that drives behavior change. The 7 Principles of Reinforcement will help you determine the messages needed for a strong foundation and to drive the engagement needed for results and participation.

Three of the principles support the foundation, and three more support engagement. Can you list these principles without cheating? We hope you can. I will give you the one that is missing. Number 7, Place the Learner in the Center.

If you could list the other six principles and know which ones are used to build the foundation and which ones to build the engagement, I want to compliment you. Well done, even when you needed to think hard.

If you couldn’t list all of the principles, don’t throw your football over the fence and give up. Flip back to Chapter 5, where you can read an overview of the principles that will help you create lasting behavior change.

However, being able to list the principles does not mean you can apply them. Application means that you start using the principles in your reinforcement program. Check your notes, text highlights, and bookmarks to reinforce what you learned earlier in the book. You only win the gold medal when you execute extremely well.

As in Judo, finding the right balance is important in an effective reinforcement program. A Judo player who is out of balance can hardly win a competition. In fact, a Judo player who is out of balance will probably lose the first fight.

A reinforcement program that is out of balance will probably not result in lasting behavior change. You need to create a balance between results and participation. The balance comes when you build a strong foundation and drive engagement. And, of course, all of this is done while focusing on the learner.

After your reinforcement program has been in place for a while, I recommend that you analyze it and determine where it could be improved. Just as top athletes do when they want to reach the next level, face the facts, confront yourself, dare to grow, and don’t be afraid of losing. When most top athletes look back at their sport careers, they conclude that they lost more medals than they won. As my coach told me: “You have to lose medals to win the most important one.”

So, don’t throw your football over the fence; instead, show top-sport behavior. Check the assessments and reinforcement levers described in Part 4 to determine how well balanced your reinforcement programs are and then revisit the principles on which you fall short to balance your reinforcement program. Remember, lots of reinforcement specialists want to build reinforcement programs, but you must choose to build an effective reinforcement program.

Perhaps you wondered about the title of this chapter, “Sore Made.” “Sore Made” is what the referee calls to signal the end of a Judo contest. When they hear “Sore Made,” both Judo players stop fighting and return to their start positions facing each other. After the referee declares the winner, the players take one step back and bow to their opponents. This bow means “Thank you for this challenge and I respect you as a human being.”

I am not sure whether that was my first thought when I lost my Olympic medal, but today I have a good reason to call the last chapter of this book “Sore Made.” It represents the bow I make to you, which means thank you for reading our book, thank you for using The 7 Principles, but most of all, I have respect for you! I admire you because you value the importance of behavior change. I wish you the best of luck in achieving it.