Speed.
It’s exhilarating. Intoxicating. Addicting.
We strive to use speed whenever we’re in action — whether we’re driving, running errands or making important choices.
We can’t help ourselves.
Time is money, as they say. And life’s too short for us to waste any of it.
So we go ever faster.
We engineer our lives to win the next sprint — whether it be a week, a day or a singular moment. We rely on technology to cut out the slack in everything from ordering food to managing our finances. And we prioritize snap decisions at every turn.
It might seem as if the sky’s the limit with this approach. As if our skyrocketing productivity can lead to skyrocketing potential.
But looks can be deceiving.
In an era where everything moves fast, few things stand the test of time.
But one movie does just that.
The movie is called 12 Angry Men. It was released back in 1957, but still remains relevant today.
Why? Because it focuses upon a time-honored American tradition — jury trials.
The concept of justice being determined by a jury of one’s peers dates back to the drafting of the United States Constitution. And each week, somewhere in America, a group of 12 people sit in a room and determine the fate of the accused.
I’ve yet to meet someone who enjoys this task. After all, the burden of consequence for the jury’s decision is profound. And these discussions generally come after grueling days of testimony.
For men and women who have sacrificed their job and family responsibilities in the name of civic duty, this decisive phase of the trial can seem excruciating.
Yet, there’s another reason a jury decision seems as pleasant as a root canal to many of those involved. It’s a reason that cuts to the crux of 12 Angry Men.
Moments like these force people to be deliberate.
Jurors must consider the facts at hand and weigh their veracity. Then, they need to come to a unanimous decision.
Quick decisions generally won’t work here. There is often too much ambiguous information to consider. Expecting 11 others to come to a consensus in less time than it takes to heat up some taquitos in the microwave is simply unrealistic.
No, jurors must take their time, hash everything out, and then make an informed decision.
Jury deliberations are great examples of what the Nobel Prize-winning economist Daniel Kahneman has coined Thinking Slow.
Although this phrasing might make it seem like slow thinkers are dim witted, this is actually not the case. They are usually quite bright.
The difference between slow thinking and fast thinking comes down to approach. Fast thinkers prioritize the speed of the decisions they make over the breadth of information considered. Slow thinkers prioritize the breadth of information over the speed of decisions.
To be sure, there are situations that call for each type of thinking. If military commanders are under fire in a war zone, for instance, they must make decisions quickly to keep their entire unit from getting killed. But when out of imminent danger, such commanders are best served considering all the possibilities before deciding whether to move forward.
There is a delicate balance — one defined by the contours of context.
This balance is critical. Yet, it seems to have shifted in recent years.
Indeed, away from the jury room, the military base or the chess table, it’s hard to find places where slow thinking is encouraged anymore.
And that is a significant problem.
I am a deliberate thinker.
I take pride in gathering all the information I can before making my move. Even if it takes me a while to take decisive action.
When I was applying to business school, I spent five days determining which school’s offer I would accept.
When my car was in the shop for an AC issue, I built a full financial model comparing the likely cost of the repair with the cost of paying off my loan and replacing the vehicle.
In both these instances — and many others — my approach has helped guide me to the right choice. Even if that choice might not have been evident at first glance.
By removing the emotional influence of initial impressions, I can make decisions that are logical. By taking the time to digest the relevant information, I can make decisions that are well-informed.
The end result is worth the extra time it takes to get there.
But in a world set up for fast thinkers and quick decisions, my mission is challenged at every turn.
Critical decisions are often thrust at me without advance warning. And supporting information is often withheld.
All of this is done in an attempt to get me to make a hasty, emotion-laden decision. The kind of decision that separates me from my wallet.
This behavior is not unexpected. Consumer purchasing power is the fuel for capitalism’s engine. So, it’s only natural that others would covet my attention, my loyalty and my money — even if they have to resort to Jedi Mind Tricks to get it.
If I were inexperienced at this fast thinking game, I’d be vulnerable. Fortunately, I have the tools to operate in it — thanks to the time I spent as a TV news producer.
But while I can navigate the treacherous waters of fast thinking, it’s not a task I enjoy.
So, I do what I can to flip the switch.
I use guile in order to make decisions my way. To give myself the opportunity to be deliberate whenever possible.
This often means considering the what ifs.
It means anticipating a repair cost before I get the estimate. It means thinking about downstream results of a potential decision, and pontificating on the new choices those results will bring me.
These types of mind games take ingenuity, an understanding of systems and a fair amount of paranoia. They require me to abandon any air of the naivete that comes with living in the moment — all so I can imagine a far more ambiguous future.
Yet, I find this sacrifice is worthwhile.
For it allows me to prepare for those fast-thinking moments. And it allows me to make the decisions that are in my best long-term interest.
We all can benefit from being deliberate.
It will make us more conscientious, more self-aware and savvier. It will allow us to broaden our time horizon when evaluating decisions. And it will allow our minds to find a greater equilibrium.
So, don’t be afraid to ease off the accelerator. To pause long enough for a deep breath. To consider all the options before making your choice.
Slower can often be better.