In the 70s and 80s, if you had a question that needed answering, you might be tempted to write to Parade Magazine.
If you were wondering who the oldest Golden Girl was, you had very few options. Of course, you could head to the library and scan some microfiche, but that was a lot of work. Ask and you shall receive, right?
In the early nineties, we got the internet. It sucked at first, trust me, but eventually became usable.
All the answers are right at your fingertips. But the change in information technology didn’t immediately change our habits. We were still sending notes and letters, patiently waiting for a reply.
We were still asking.
And even today, in a world with Google Search, Siri, and Alexa. A world that now has ChatGPT. Some people are still happy to ask and wait and wait and ask.
I’ve started to put people in two buckets: the Askers and the Lookers.
At the office, it is a daily occurrence.
The Teams chat pops up with “QQ”.
Quick Question.
Of course, that means it’s quick to ask, not always quick to answer. But there it sits, in my unread, after traveling through cyberspace, time zones, and workstreams, just sitting there waiting for someone (me) to pay it some attention.
Just this morning I received one, a forward, asking what “MW” stood for at Microsoft.
It’s passive-aggressive, but four hours later I sent this back:
This person took the time to draft an email, maybe even spell-checking it, rather than just typing words into a search box.
Apparently, I’m their human search engine operator.
And it’s common. Asking for things that are at your fingertips. Or at least worth a look.
Is it a form of procrastination?
No doubt it’s an institutionalized frame of mind.
But the cage door is open, and the lookers will find it.
Asking for answers rather than looking. Asking what to do rather than looking for something to do.
I’m left wondering if we’ve done it to ourselves, or if it’s always been this way.
Maybe this is the outcome we deserve after a generation of helicopter parenting. Less independent kids.
Jonathan Haidt talks about his books around the country and always asks “At what age were you let out [without parental supervision]?” A terrific way to engage his audience on the subject in real-time. And what he has found is that “People who were born before 1982 the answer is always 6, plus or minus a year. We used to always let kids outside with other kids at the age of 6 or 7. And then I ask just kids born after 1995, and the answer is usually between 10 and 14.”
Is it any wonder that a child who wasn’t allowed to leave the cul-de-sac until middle school is having an issue moving forward on that project plan? The child that asked mom and dad every time they needed a snack? The child that had each homework assignment critiqued, edited, and reworked until they got that “check+” is having a tough time forging ahead on their own?
Well, you don’t say!?!
Their parents didn’t empower them, didn’t trust them, and didn’t have faith in them to act and do and think independently, so why would they act any differently in the workplace?
That was my hypothesis, and I was sticking to it. But then I heard Bucky Brooks on the radio, and he said something that sounded similar. Apparently, this has been an issue on the Football field for quite some time.
Brooks, a second-round pick, a long-time player, NFL scout, and now sportswriter says there are ‘trucks’ and ‘trailers’ in the NFL. Trucks are out there pulling their team, and trailers are getting pulled by their team. You can win with trailers, they can hold quite a load, but you need trucks to pull them along.
Shit. Maybe this isn’t just a Gen Z thing.
Jake Dickert, Head Football coach at Washington State University says, “Nobody wants wheelbarrow players, where you always need to push them around.”
Venture Capitalist David Friedberg calls this a bias to action, understanding that in the business world, your “pace of decision-making matters far more than the accuracy of decision-making.”
And Franklin Roosevelt said, “Above all, try something.”
They were all talking about the same person, the same group of people, the Askers. And for the Looker, the Asker will never quite compute.
Maybe it’s not a modern problem with helicopter parents, but parenting, coaching, and leadership all play a role and can certainly help.
With my own kids, when they come downstairs with an issue, my first questions are where have you looked, what have you tried? If the answers are nowhere and nothing, I send them on their way.
Coworkers are often looking for validation instead of instruction. They know what to do. It’s less looking for advice and more looking for someone else to own the decision. I’ll ask what they’ve tried and what the outcome was, and then press them to make the first move.
What is the real issue here?
Fear.
Anxiety, perfectionism, lack of confidence. Paralysis by analysis.
Sure. All of it. But it’s really all fear.
When you fail to act because of some imagined future, when you can’t get hurt you can only be afraid that you will. That’s fear.
What can we do to turn more fearful Askers into courageous Lookers? Turn trailers into trucks? And avoid the wheelbarrows altogether?
Take ownership and set an example. If you are humming and hawing over your salad order, it’s not going to go well. Show them what it looks like to take decisive action, show them the positive outcomes, and show them what it looks like to correct your mistakes.
Give them ownership. And if they won’t take it, you can try this gradual three-step process.
1.) You drive and let them ride along.
2.) They drive, and let you ride along.
3.) You get out of Dodge, leave, and let them operate independently. Let them leave the cul-de-sac solo.
But leave your number.
Once you leave, let them work, let them make mistakes, let them skin their knees, and let them figure it out. Make them figure it out.
Emphasize the bias to action. Emphasize making a decision quickly. And making the decisions to correct mistakes just as fast.
Explain to them that most of the world is built with two-way doors. Almost any mistake can be undone.
Over time, we’ll upgrade our people and our teams. Our tribe, and our family.
Over time they will change from people of fear to people of faith. Faith in themselves.
