Hiding behind goals that are too big
It’s a weird thing to be cast in the role of naysayer on someone’s journey to greatness.
I believe that people can achieve great things if they have the belief in their ability to do so and a strong plan to back it up.
However, having only the belief isn’t always enough Enthusiasm, motivation, and determination will peter out with repeated exposure to hardship if a person isn’t prepared for it.
As a teacher and coach, I’ve sometimes been the one to suggest that someone modify their plan or pursue an incremental goal on the way to the massive, ground-breaking, world-shaking achievement they are seeking. These suggestions are not always welcome. My character is definitely not making it to the second act when this story is turned into a movie.
Our culture rewards these tales of brazen, hubristic defiance of the odds and impossible goals. We hear stuff like that hoary old saying: “Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.” My brief Internet research tells me that it was Norman Vincent Peale who is responsible for it. In addition to being astronomically inaccurate on an unfathomable scale, it’s more advice that’s only helpful if you’re already nodding along, ready to crush your dreams. Otherwise, it’s just more noise.
Worse, this rhetoric emphasizes the value of unachievable goals. And when we don’t achieve our goals, we don’t really land among the stars. We might come crashing down to earth, frustrated and disillusioned. Alternatively, we stay so focused on our big, big dream that we ignore opportunities and stepping-stones along the way. Either way, we lose out on the meaningful contribution we could make or the achievements we could enjoy if we allowed ourselves to follow through on less glamorous objectives.
Even now, as I write this, I brace myself for the criticism of my position on this issue. I do try to tread lightly, for who am I to say what someone else is capable of? I would never want to be the cause of someone else not doing what they feel driven to do. However, I do want to present an alternative to anyone who, like me, is unmoved by BHAGs. We don’t have to shoot for the moon. We can aim for something that we know we can do, do it, and then repeat.
The thing about a Jim Collins-style BHAG is that it makes sense if you’re marshaling the resources of hundreds or thousands of people and pointing them in the same direction. The D-Day operation of June 6, 1944 is a classic example. It made sense, in the context of the war, to align the best military minds, equipment, and muscle and direct them toward this risky, complex endeavor. With each person working to the best of his ability toward a well-defined purpose, the Allies were able to hasten the end of the war in Europe.
A giant, all-but-unattainable goal is a lot less workable for an individual. Americans were able to follow through on Kennedy’s goal to get to the moon by the end of the 1960s because they put every engineer on the project. Just one engineer is not going to get there, no matter how determined she is.
Am I underestimating this hypothetical engineer? Maybe. But in my own work, I am willing to take the chance that I’m underestimating myself. It’s not that I don’t push myself, but I’m taking into account my human frailties when I do. I will prioritize a meal and a good night’s sleep every time. This allows me to achieve more in the long run, and more importantly, it makes me a lot happier.
If you’ve decided on the outcome that you want to create, your next step is to make a plan for achieving it. If that plan doesn’t account for the potential obstacles and the way around them (the Allied plan did), your goal is more of a fantasy. You can then hide behind that fantasy and pretend it will come true someday, but in the meantime, you are losing out on what you could actually do, today, with the resources you have.
There’s nothing wrong with small, doable goals. No one is going to put that statement on an inspirational poster, but it’s true. If it helps you to hear it, you’re welcome; if it just seems like a distraction or cop-out, that’s fine, too. Go ahead and shoot for the moon. If you miss, I’d advise picking something smaller and closer to set your sights on next.