The Expectations Trap
It was the spring of 1981. I was sitting in a training room listening to my high school tennis coach - a genius that would go on to win national championships at the collegiate level - lay out his expectations for the coming season. He was an intense guy with a cold stare and lofty expectations of our physical training and on-court performance. The talented players nodded their heads as he laid out his plans. I wanted to throw up in the trash can as I thought about the pain he would inflict on me when we “ran the lines” and the wrath he would bring when I committed unforced errors. That fear might have caused me to work harder that season, but it was out of self-preservation, not the desire to be a great tennis player or teammate.
Later that year I was at football practice and missed a block, leading to a sacked quarterback. The offensive line coach - a mountain of a man with a perpetual ooze of tobacco juice running down his lip - was hysterical. He grabbed a helmet from another player, squeezed it over the top of his huge head and said “Stewart, rush me and I’m going to show you how to block!” I was a little concerned about rushing a man with no pads, but I did as he instructed, and with a forward step and the flick of his forearm, he knocked me about five yards down the field. Then he leaned over me and, as I deftly dodged the drip of tobacco juice, he said “Stewart, you’re the leader of our offensive line and our offensive line does not give up sacks!” I felt so proud. In that moment he gave me an identity and a group of people that counted on me. I was a 180-pound lineman, Nick Saban would not be beating down my door anytime soon, but I gave everything I had that year to be the best I could for my team.
Research says that the neural response from expectations is similar to debt. It’s an obligation that’s not particularly motivating, increases cortisol and stress, and leads to self-preservation. On the other hand, establishing identity both as an individual and as a member of a group or community leads to the “we” effect, increased engagement, and higher performance.
At this point, those of you that are “well-seasoned” like myself are yelling “I’m not going soft just so a bunch of Millennials and Gen Zs can feel good about themselves!” Cool your jets for a minute. This has nothing to do with age or generation. It has everything to do with the fact that the human need to belong is the oldest and most powerful need we have. We still need to define success, keep score, and create accountability, but we need to do it differently than we have in the past. You can choose to ignore that, or you can use it to make more money and build a better place to work at the same time.