One thing that might reduce the confusion between the two apparent types of “goal setting”, is that all of the Ray Williams quotes appear to be describing a phenomenon I discovered a while back that I dubbed “false goals”.
Essentially, a false goal is a goal that’s “not about what it’s about”. It’s a surface goal of “lose 10 pounds” whose actual intent is, say, “stop being such an ugly loser”. It’s this hidden, self-centered goal (a “be good” goal in Halvorson’s terms) that causes all the secondary phenomena Williams describes. Such an underlying goal cannot be achieved through losing the weight, so even if he/she succeeds, he/she fails! And certainly, throughout the whole process he/she is feeling like a failure, because this is true by assumption in the underlying goal.
In contrast, a person whose underlying intention for “lose 10 pounds” is, say, “improve my health, move a little faster, and fit into my sexier clothes”, will feel good about every ounce lost, because it is perceived as bringing him/her closer to their underlying desire.
People like you and Steve—who genuinely desire a change in the state of the world—don’t experience the backfiring effects of false goals. They only clobber people like those of Ray’s clients (and mine) who are actually seeking a change in the state of themselves (rather than the world), and are specifically trying to change their own self-judgment or the imagined judgment of others.
The biggest side-effect, of course, is that a false goal is negatively reinforcing in a way that extinguishes action taken to attain it. Every moment you spend working towards a false goal is a moment where you’re brought into fresh awareness of your perceived inadequacy, and the fastest way to make this stop is to stop taking action.
In short: if the real purpose of a goal is not to change the state of the world, but rather to change your self-esteem or perceived esteem in the eyes of others, don’t bother. While achieving a goal may improve your self-esteem as a side effect, it doesn’t work when the purpose of the goal itself is to make you esteemable, or more precisely, to alleviate your perceived lack of esteemability.
People like you and Steve—who genuinely desire a change in the state of the world—don’t experience the backfiring effects of false goals. They only clobber people like those of Ray’s clients (and mine) who are actually seeking a change in the state of themselves (rather than the world), and are specifically trying to change their own self-judgment or the imagined judgment of others.
This is a really interesting way of looking at it.
I certainly think a lot about other people’s judgements, desperately want them to like and respect me, spend way too much time worrying about what people think, need constant positive feedback to feel good about my skills, occasionally cry when I get too much constructive criticism at work, etc. But those feelings don’t seem to propagate back into my goals. I guess, when I think about it, I don’t even implicitly think that I exercise or eat healthy to please or impress others. (Back when I was 12 and the main reason I wanted to lose weight was so people would think I was pretty, I had a lot of negative feelings about this goal, compared to my other goals that were less about wanting other people to respect me). And being criticized in an nursing context has occasionally led to a demotivational spiral–it’s just never lasted long enough to make a serious dent in my overall motivation, which pops back up as soon as I’m away from that context.
I certainly think a lot about other people’s judgements, desperately want them to like and respect me, spend way too much time worrying about what people think, need constant positive feedback to feel good about my skills, occasionally cry when I get too much constructive criticism at work, etc. But those feelings don’t seem to propagate back into my goals
As long as you believe you are an okay and worthwhile person regardless of whether the goal is achieved, then there’s no risk of motivational backfiring, at least not of the kind I’m talking about.
You can want people to like and respect you, want to feel better about your skills, etc., without it being the same as feeling worthless unless those things turn out the way you want. If your basic self-worth is not rooted in your skills or what other people think of you, then you probably won’t have much of this kind of trouble.
I have a couple of tests I suggest to people to verify the truth or falsehood of their goals; one is to ask if you’d still want it to happen even if it had to be a complete secret from anybody but you, and you couldn’t get any personal credit or recognition for it. Another is whether imagining the end result makes you feel physically good in your torso and inclines you to make an “mmm” or “ahhh” sound with a relaxed breath (true goal), or whether it makes you feel tense or at most, relieved (both an indication of negative motivation, usually—but not always—a false goal.
I have a couple of tests I suggest to people to verify the truth or falsehood of their goals; one is to ask if you’d still want it to happen even if it had to be a complete secret from anybody but you, and you couldn’t get any personal credit or recognition for it. Another is whether imagining the end result makes you feel physically good in your torso and inclines you to make an “mmm” or “ahhh” sound with a relaxed breath (true goal), or whether it makes you feel tense or at most, relieved (both an indication of negative motivation, usually—but not always—a false goal.
There are some goals that I’d feel a lot less motivated to accomplish if they had to be secrets forever. Finishing a novel, for example–20% of the fun is in writing and inhabiting that world, but 80% of the fun is in sharing it with other people. It would make less of a motivation difference for, say, healthy eating or exercise.
I think pretty much all my goals make me feel physically good. I also feel a bit anxious for goals that have no obvious next action and aren’t entirely dependent on my hard work–for example, having a novel become a bestseller. That would feel freaking amazing, having lots of people reading and talking about a story I wrote, but it’s also hard and scary and improbable. I think the “improbable” and the “no next action”, as well as the “no external deadline”, make it so that I don’t do as much as I could to try to get my work published.
One thing that might reduce the confusion between the two apparent types of “goal setting”, is that all of the Ray Williams quotes appear to be describing a phenomenon I discovered a while back that I dubbed “false goals”.
Essentially, a false goal is a goal that’s “not about what it’s about”. It’s a surface goal of “lose 10 pounds” whose actual intent is, say, “stop being such an ugly loser”. It’s this hidden, self-centered goal (a “be good” goal in Halvorson’s terms) that causes all the secondary phenomena Williams describes. Such an underlying goal cannot be achieved through losing the weight, so even if he/she succeeds, he/she fails! And certainly, throughout the whole process he/she is feeling like a failure, because this is true by assumption in the underlying goal.
In contrast, a person whose underlying intention for “lose 10 pounds” is, say, “improve my health, move a little faster, and fit into my sexier clothes”, will feel good about every ounce lost, because it is perceived as bringing him/her closer to their underlying desire.
People like you and Steve—who genuinely desire a change in the state of the world—don’t experience the backfiring effects of false goals. They only clobber people like those of Ray’s clients (and mine) who are actually seeking a change in the state of themselves (rather than the world), and are specifically trying to change their own self-judgment or the imagined judgment of others.
The biggest side-effect, of course, is that a false goal is negatively reinforcing in a way that extinguishes action taken to attain it. Every moment you spend working towards a false goal is a moment where you’re brought into fresh awareness of your perceived inadequacy, and the fastest way to make this stop is to stop taking action.
In short: if the real purpose of a goal is not to change the state of the world, but rather to change your self-esteem or perceived esteem in the eyes of others, don’t bother. While achieving a goal may improve your self-esteem as a side effect, it doesn’t work when the purpose of the goal itself is to make you esteemable, or more precisely, to alleviate your perceived lack of esteemability.
This is a really interesting way of looking at it.
I certainly think a lot about other people’s judgements, desperately want them to like and respect me, spend way too much time worrying about what people think, need constant positive feedback to feel good about my skills, occasionally cry when I get too much constructive criticism at work, etc. But those feelings don’t seem to propagate back into my goals. I guess, when I think about it, I don’t even implicitly think that I exercise or eat healthy to please or impress others. (Back when I was 12 and the main reason I wanted to lose weight was so people would think I was pretty, I had a lot of negative feelings about this goal, compared to my other goals that were less about wanting other people to respect me). And being criticized in an nursing context has occasionally led to a demotivational spiral–it’s just never lasted long enough to make a serious dent in my overall motivation, which pops back up as soon as I’m away from that context.
As long as you believe you are an okay and worthwhile person regardless of whether the goal is achieved, then there’s no risk of motivational backfiring, at least not of the kind I’m talking about.
You can want people to like and respect you, want to feel better about your skills, etc., without it being the same as feeling worthless unless those things turn out the way you want. If your basic self-worth is not rooted in your skills or what other people think of you, then you probably won’t have much of this kind of trouble.
I have a couple of tests I suggest to people to verify the truth or falsehood of their goals; one is to ask if you’d still want it to happen even if it had to be a complete secret from anybody but you, and you couldn’t get any personal credit or recognition for it. Another is whether imagining the end result makes you feel physically good in your torso and inclines you to make an “mmm” or “ahhh” sound with a relaxed breath (true goal), or whether it makes you feel tense or at most, relieved (both an indication of negative motivation, usually—but not always—a false goal.
There are some goals that I’d feel a lot less motivated to accomplish if they had to be secrets forever. Finishing a novel, for example–20% of the fun is in writing and inhabiting that world, but 80% of the fun is in sharing it with other people. It would make less of a motivation difference for, say, healthy eating or exercise.
I think pretty much all my goals make me feel physically good. I also feel a bit anxious for goals that have no obvious next action and aren’t entirely dependent on my hard work–for example, having a novel become a bestseller. That would feel freaking amazing, having lots of people reading and talking about a story I wrote, but it’s also hard and scary and improbable. I think the “improbable” and the “no next action”, as well as the “no external deadline”, make it so that I don’t do as much as I could to try to get my work published.