Eight Lessons From the Bosses #4
What I learnt from a best-selling self-help author who happens to be my boss
Note: this post is the final of a 4-part series. If you missed the last three, you can catch up on Part One, Part Two, and Part Three.
Boss No. 4
And now we come to Boss No. 4, i.e. my current manager. As alluded to in Part Two, it was my second manager Agnes who introduced me to my current boss. My current boss is one of her favourite authors, and she first introduced me to him by recommending me his best-selling book, and then also gifting me (and the whole team in fact) his follow-up when she left the company.
Thanks to Agnes, I began reading my current manager’s work. And it instantly spoke to me.
My manager is (I think it’s save to say) a well-known self-development author. And I joined his team in September 2020.1
On top of feeling, well, on top of the world to be working for one of my favourite authors, to be part of his creative process, you can imagine he’s imparted to me many life lessons through his writings. He’s a self-development author after all.
Instead of listing all of the things I’ve learned from him and applied to my life, let me give you the top three that have had the most impact.
Lesson No. 6
The title of his breakout book is The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck. And that’s the most important thing I’ve learned from him: not giving a fuck to things not worth giving a fuck to.
All of us have problems and worries. Often we let them consume us.
But if we take a closer look, we’ll realise that many—if not most—of those problems and worries are mere inconveniences and frustrations. Things not really worth kicking up a fuss over.
This idea of not giving a fuck to things that are not “fuckworthy” resonated strongly with me the second I learned about it in his book. And it’s a principle I’ve lived by since.
Why get worked up over things when you can just get on with solving problems (when you can) and continuing with life, or just forget about those problems (when you can’t solve them) and continuing with life.
Life is too short to be spent constantly worrying and fussing over things.
Lesson No. 7
One of my boss’ principles is: “Fuck Yes, or No.”
This rule applies to all things and relationships in life. If we don’t feel something is a “fuck yes” for us, then the course of action is simple: we don’t do it. If we don’t feel “fuck yes” for someone, then we don’t invest in a relationship with them. And—most importantly for me—if someone isn’t a “fuck yes” for us, then don’t pursue a relationship with them.
This last point has been crucial in helping me weed out the relationships in my life where the other person is hot-and-cold, where I’m sometimes not sure whether they want me in their life at all.
As someone who has a lot of hang-ups about relationships, this principle has served me very well. It’s helped me avoid hours of agonising over whether or not “they want to be my friend,” “I should send them that text,” “I should invite them out for X, Y, Z.”
If I don’t feel they’re a “fuck yes” for me, then I just don’t do anything. One hand doesn’t make a clap. I put in an initial level of investment, and if that level of effort isn’t reciprocated, I walk away.
It’s made my social life far more pleasant to navigate, and infinitely more enriching.
Lesson No. 8
I studied Economics at university, and the concept of opportunity costs isn’t new to me.
But it wasn’t until I read my manager’s writing on decision-making that the point was really hammered home. In one article, he writes that the goal in all decision-making in life should be to incur minimum costs for maximum benefits. Or if you look at it in risk terms, to take the smallest risks in exchange for the largest potential benefits.
This is a lesson that can be applied in any area in life, but I’ve been using this most in the one area I think the most about and that you may notice has come up regularly in my newsletter: social life.
When I’m hesitating to reach out to get to know someone new, I tell myself: What are the risks involved? The person may reject my advances, but that’s that. The potential benefits, though, are huge. I may gain a new friend, another enriching relationship.
This is something I think I’d been doing even before coming across my boss’ writing. It’s basically how I got together with my partner who I literally sat down next to in a bar one evening and decided I wanted in my life (Fortunately he also wanted me in his life, phew!)
Most recently, I applied this thinking only a few months ago. I’ve moved to a new city to be with my partner and know only a handful of people here. There’s a Facebook group for people moving to this city, and I decided (risk #1) to give a shout-out to others quarantining at the same hotel. One person commented “hi” back, saying not only are we staying in the same hotel but also we were on the same flight.
The conversation could have ended there, but I decided to risk rejection (#2) and reach out to them privately to see if they’d be happy to keep the conversation going and trade notes on our hotel. That led to a pretty engaging conversation where they seemed happy to share details about their life, not a stunted conversation where every question is answered with one word.
So before I left quarantine, I decided to take risk #3 (and I thought a lot about this) and ask if they wanted to have coffee in person after we regain our freedom. They said yes. And now I have potentially made a friend of my own in the city. It wasn’t easy to ask a stranger out for coffee, but I’m very glad I did.
So this thinking—minimum risk for maximum benefit—has truly served me well time and again.
Thank you, Mark, for the work you put in to re-package complex philosophical maxims and psychological concepts in a way that is accessible to the world. I—and million others around the world—thank you sincerely for your work.
These are the eight life lessons I’ve learned from my four bosses over the past four years.
As I said, I’ve been extremely lucky in my professional journey to have had managers who have made a positive, lasting, material impact on my life.
I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, have asked for better.
The End
And there you have it: my eight lessons from four bosses.
What kind of bosses do you/have you had? What lessons have you learned from them?
Share in the comments, drop a reply, conjure up some smoke signals.
Until next Friday… Stay cool, stay safe, stay thoughtful,
Val
I’ll tell you all about how I managed that at some point. (For long-time readers, yes, a cheeky cover letter was involved.)