A sense of fortuitous timing governs Eric Barker’s book, which is a breezy exploration of the question of what produces that indefinable indeterminate that goes by the rubric of ‘success’.

Barker, a man of many parts — he is a former Hollywood screenwriter, was part of the Wii team at Nintendo, has fenced with Olympians in Russia, and has trained with the Israeli Military — introduces us fairly early on to the concept of “filtered” and “unfiltered” politicians, which references Harvard Business School professor Gautam Mukunda’s work on that same theme.

“Unfiltered” politicians, who have not been vetted by the political system, cannot be relied upon to make the “approved” decisions, writes Barker, channelling Mukunda’s research. “They do unexpected things… and are often unpredictable. Yet they bring change and make a difference… They often break the institutions they are guiding.”

These characterisations are useful as a guide to helping us understand the slow train wreck that is the Donald Trump presidency, and reading Barker’s book in the week that the Orange One fired the FBI Director and slip-slided ever closer to possible impeachment, is particularly illustrative. Trump, arguably the most unfiltered politician ever, may be unworthy of classification as a “success”: indeed, he seems to be determinedly exercising the ‘Samson Option’, bringing down the entire constitutional order of the US in a heap. Nevertheless, Barker’s book offers a prism with which to make sense of the New World Disorder.

Myth-busters But the true merits of Barking... lie elsewhere, in its delineation of the markers of success, its laying out of a roadmap to that wonderland, and its intensively research-backed, anecdote-rich, magisterial analysis. Along the way, Barker takes on some of the prevailing myths centred around the notion of success: Do nice guys finish last? Do quitters never win? The answers are somewhat counter-intuitive, although the author concedes that there may be persuasive arguments to be made on both sides of the supposition.

He also embellishes his narrative by drawing out-of-the-box lessons on leadership from an improbable cast of characters: pirates, serial killers, Navy SEALs, hostage negotiators, Albert Einstein and even Genghis Khan.

Pointing to recent discoveries in genetics, for instance, Barker argues that there are no such things as “bad” genes (which cause alcoholism or a violent predisposition). If anything, in the right environment, bad can be good and odd can be beautiful. Illustratively, champion swimmer Michael Phelps, for all his athleticism, does not have a ‘normally’ proportioned body, but his collection of ‘odd traits’ contribute uniquely to making him the ace Olympian that he is. The larger point: the key to success is to “know thyself” and “pick the right pond”.

In his analysis of workplace competencies, Barker observes that in some situations “jerks” seem to do better than the “nice guy”, but in fact such organisations are only sliding down the slippery slope to becoming “Moldova”, the erstwhile Soviet republic, which figures dead last on list of countries ranked by happiness. That’s because given the rampant corruption, Moldovans don’t trust one another: and since many students bribe teachers to get passing grades, Moldovans won’t go to doctors younger than 35, assuming they purchased their medical degrees!

Barker’s point is that bad behaviour is infectious and poisons the well, and organisations that reward bad behaviour are doomed to fail. And, contrary to the notion that nice guys finish last, it is possible, Barker argues citing a variant of the Prisoner’s Dilemma game theory, to build a workplace ecosystem where cooperation and trust in one another can be engendered.

Grit or quit? There is something to be said for dogged perseverance in the face of adversity, and countless success stories revolve around the bone-headed pursuit of an objective. Barker cites inspirational case studies in this area, including instances involving life-and-death situations. But even at the risk of contradicting himself, he says that there is a time for grit and a time to quit, with a reckoner of sorts for when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em.

In embellishing his argument for building a network that can propel you on your way to success, Barker invokes the example of Paul Erdos, the maverick mathematician who collaborated with countless scholars. But it worked for Erdos because he was by nature extroverted, and to impose such a pressure to network on someone of the stature of Isaac Newton, for instance, would have failed spectacularly, he reckons. Again, it is about different strokes for different folks.

“If you were Paul Erdos’s boss,” he writes, “ you’d try to surround him with as many smart people as possible and you’d give him an unlimited travel budget. If you were Newton’s boss… the primary rule you’d live by to make sure this genius kept cranking out incredible, world-changing developments is obvious: just leave him the hell alone.

Confidence and hubris The overarching themes that Barker addresses in his provocative book are centred around workplace dynamics, and the concept of leadership. Confidence, he reasons, is a result of success, not a cause. And while overconfidence makes you feel good, gives you grit, and impresses others, it can also make you an “arrogant jerk who alienates people.” In other words, Barker argues, the pursuit of success doesn’t allow for a doctrinaire approach, but a horses-for-courses treatment that calls for the invocation of discretion. Some of these ideas may seem self-evident, but it is in the marshalling of a breezy narrative that rests on the solid bedrock of science that the book commends itself.

MEET THE AUTHOR

Eric Barker’s blog, ‘Barking Up the Wrong Tree’, presents sciencebased answers and expert insight on success in life. He has been featured in The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, The Financial Times, and was a columnist for Wired.

Related Topics
comment COMMENT NOW