What a pet rock taught me about avoiding impulsive decisions

It’s my observation rather than an empirical fact but I feel we often forget that we as human beings are a process not an outcome.  The decisions we make, particularly the small ones have a significant impact on who we are and the experiences that shape our lives.  Catching ourselves in the moment we make these decisions, matters.

“Cadet Pearson, are you an idiot?” Even with the glaring South Dakota sun in my eyes I could still make out the menacing figure standing in front of me. “No sir.” Captain Whitehead was the lead evaluator for the flight.  “You had one job to do Cadet Pearson, one. How did you screw that up?” It’s day three of Air Force Officer bootcamp. I just turned twenty-one and I am spending the summer between my Junior and Senior year of university, at Ellsworth Air Force Base (AFB) in South Dakota. I’m the acting Flight Commander of Charlie Flight. Just moments before I marched Charlie into the middle of the street. Somehow, I placed myself and my road guards safely in the crosswalk and used my flight as a human shield, protecting myself and my guards from on-coming traffic. My sole job as the Flight Commander is to protect the flight at all costs, not treat them as sacrificial lambs. Admittedly, I was new to marching. I clearly missed a step somewhere in the process.  “Why did you get that wrong Cadet Pearson?”  “I do not know sir.”  As a fledgling cadet, “I do not know but I will find out” is your battle cry. Self- identified knowledge gaps saved you from an incredible amount of pain and humiliation. Captain Whitehead sighed and shook his head, “Cadet Pearson, hold out your hand.” I didn’t have a choice; I blindly complied and extended my hand towards the Captain.  He placed a smooth pale rock in the palm of my hand. The rock somehow maintained a glossy silver sheen, despite the unrelenting sun.  “This Cadet Pearson is a rock,” as if I required that clarification. “Every time you give a command, you inform the rock first. Your rock needs a name, what are you going to name it?”  One of the few times in my life I maintained a poker face as I quietly thought, what am I doing with my life? “Remington sir, the rock's name is Remington.” Demonstrating my fondness for alliterations. “Fantastic Cadet Pearson, Remington the rock. Every time you give a command, you inform Remington first.”   I proceeded to march around Ellsworth AFB for the next week, yelling “Remington, I am turning right now” “Remington, I am putting the flight in parade rest now.” My flight worked hard to maintain their bearing but were visibly fighting back laughter. Remington became an honorary member of the flight. Every night before lights out for the next six weeks, 29 of my fellow flight mates and I wished Remington the Rock a good night. Remington and I became an unstoppable duo, we avoided any further marching errors and went on to finish bootcamp in the top 90th percentile, graduating with distinction. The experience gave me an entirely different perspective on the concept of a pet rock. 

What purpose did Remington Serve?

Remington was a brilliant move by Captain Whitehead and a demonstration of effective leadership.  He could have carried on with verbal abuse, followed by some form of physical fitness derived punishment. For the environment that would have been a fitting course of action, but he abstained. He recognised I had a knowledge gap.  My intention and skill level weren’t aligned. I didn’t have a strong enough base in marching to withstand the artificial stress being placed on me. This was inhibiting my ability to thinking clearly. He was aware I was new to marching and made a mistake. One that was important I didn’t repeat. Remington acted as a barrier between deliberate decision making and being reactionary.  It forced me to consciously engage with the decisions I was making; to subvert the stress induced autopilot mode my brain was slipping into. This conscious interruption did not last for hours, it wasn’t analysis paralysis, it lasted mere seconds. More than enough time to improve my mental acuity and avoid any detrimental decisions. 

We all need a Remington

To paraphrase a quote from the late American Biologist, Edward O. Wilson “We have paleolithic emotions, medieval institutions and godlike technology, and it’s terrifically dangerous.”  We, live in an increasingly complex and ambiguous world.  These things in of themselves aren’t bad but when mixed with what feels like an increasingly frenetic pace and perennial information overload, it’s a recipe for disaster.  Our biology simply can’t handle it. We need tools to lessen the noise and subvert the stressors, much like Remington.  These tools aren’t sophisticated, labour intensive, or costly, just simple conscious reminders.  Here are the four things I learned from Remington (as well as Captain Whitehead) about quieting the noise in my head to improve my decision-making skills, in the moment.  

1.     Accountability matters:  Remington resting in the palm of my hand was a tangible reminder of who I was accountable to. Even being solely accountable to yourself, keeping that at the forefront of your mind is important. This helped drive and improve my decision making and dramatically reduced any reactionary decisions.

2.     Pause before you act: admittedly, I’ve had trouble with this one.  Remington taught me that inserting those few extra seconds before reacting can improve an outcome.  Sometimes it’s as simple as asking yourself a question “why am I reacting this way” or “what options exist for, in this moment” helps drive a better outcome.  

3.     You are a process not an outcome, don’t take yourself too seriously:  I became acquainted with Remington because I made a mistake. Rather than dwelling on the mistake, we focused on a pathway to drive a better solution. It was a process. Overtime my marching improved, and later it was instinctual.  Setbacks, failures, and even being called “an idiot” happen but they are just inputs into the process rather than a definition of the end result.

4.     The importance of a growth mindset:  In bootcamp they are seeking compliance and a can-do attitude, fixed mindsets don’t get far.  Despite this, I learned an invaluable lesson.  Digging your proverbial heals in doesn’t get you far.  Remington was a literal reminder on the correlation between where I was going and the choices I was making to get me there. Not to mention the importance of enduring a healthy dose of humility.