Happy New Year to all! I’m guessing that many of you have made some New Year’s resolutions.

As for me, I have resolved for the new year to focus, to the greatest extent possible, on things I can actually control. I also plan to devote as little attention as I can to things that are beyond my control. This is hardly a new idea – the principle goes back at least as far as ancient Greece. As the stoic philosopher Epictetus once wrote, “Some things are up to us, and some things are not.” He also pointed out that trying to control the uncontrollable is inconsistent with living in harmony alongside nature.

While focusing on what you can control sounds great, it’s more easily said than done. But I’m going to give it my best shot. This resolution has gotten me thinking about what is truly within my control, and I’ve come to realize that this is more complicated than I had originally thought.

For one thing, in my field of qualitative research, it’s well accepted that it is unwise to exert too much control over research conversations and interviews. Only by ceding control can we allow conversations to go in unexpected directions and yield creativity and insight that would otherwise be inaccessible. So, even if you can control something, maybe you shouldn’t.

There are also implications for marketing strategy. For instance, you can’t control how consumers behave and perceive your brand. However, you usually can control the brand experience, which can provide some indirect control over behaviors and perceptions. This illustrates the principle elucidated by the Roman philosopher Seneca that, while we can control our own actions and decisions, we generally can’t control outcomes.

So, what makes the question of what you can control so complex? Here are some factors that I think contribute to this:

• Control is not a binary thing; it’s one end of a continuum (the other end being chaos). While some elements of a situation are clearly controllable, and others clearly aren’t, many fall into a gray area. You might not be able to ‘control’ something, but you can influence it. This is particularly true in collaborative situations, when success depends on both individual and collective effort.

• Overly stressing control can hinder creativity. Making a situation too controlled makes it less likely that the unexpected will happen. Remember – the world is a beautifully messy place; my last newsletter touches on the idea of embracing the uncontrollable.

• Emotions can get in the way – ceding control might not feel good.

• So can moral values – giving up control might even feel wrong.

Let’s return to my New Year’s resolution. While there are countless ‘controllable’ things to choose from, I’ve decided to focus on just three in 2025:

• How much time I devote to the people I care about.

• My willingness to change my opinion about something.

• How much effort I make to discover new ideas and build new skills.

What are your new year’s resolutions? Do you even have any? Does this whole ‘control’ thing figure into them? Please email me back and let me know. I’d love to know your hopes and intentions for 2025.

So, did you enjoy the recent election and the campaign that preceded it? I know I did (not!).

But I can’t deny it was interesting. If nothing else, we got to see decision making in all its pathological glory.
As a qualitative researcher, a lot of my work involves decision making. Clients often need to understand how people choose among alternatives. For instance, understanding how taxpayers choose among tax prep approaches can help a provider of tax tools design an appropriate range of service offerings.

So, I know a thing or two about decision making. One thing I know is how messy it can be.

Decision making is thought of as a process of choosing among options based on analysis and reasoning. Occasionally, that’s actually what it is. It would be nice to think that we consider all available information and make rational judgements. However, it’s usually the other way around.

Social psychologist Jonathan Haidt’s research shows that people tend to form beliefs and make decisions quickly and impulsively, frequently based on intuitive moral judgments. Afterwards, they back into a rationalization. This seems to be particularly the case when it comes to politics, which has become little more than a public morality play.

During political campaigns, voters of all persuasions form quick impressions of candidates and issues based on moral considerations – their intuitive sense of right and wrong – and vote accordingly. Questions to these voters about their decisions receive rational, after-the-fact explanations. But these justifications are unreliable, as they rarely get to the moral motivations behind these decisions.

So, if you’re struggling to understand why people vote as they do, realize that their decisions are probably based on different moral priorities than yours. Right now, the news media is putting out pat explanations for why voters acted as they did in the recent election. Be skeptical – the truth is far less tidy.

Decision making in the real world is messy. It isn’t what we’d like to think it is, and it doesn’t work the way we’d like to think it does. It’s not a neat, linear process that always yields good choices. And don’t think that this applies to everyone but you – you’re no more rational than anybody else.

So, why do we make decisions so impulsively? Look no further than evolution. The world in which we evolved was much simpler than our current one. The decisions we faced were also simpler, and being able to make decisions quickly was essential. This pattern of rapid decision making – which served us so well in ancient times – doesn’t work well in our modern and increasingly complicated environment.

So, when you face decisions, remember that your own evolved brain may not be perfectly suited to the task. Be skeptical of your initial instincts and force yourself to think things through. You might find yourself making better choices.

Laughter can be a powerful tool.

When beginning focus groups or interviews, it’s necessary to inform participants that the session is being recorded. My explanation for this is that “I’m too lazy to take notes.” This generally gets a bit of a laugh. But this lame joke also serves a purpose. The beginning of qualitative research can be nerve-wracking, for both participants and researcher. Humor can help dissipate some of the anxiety.

Humor is a useful tool in many situations, and it serves some important purposes:

It lightens the mood. When people are in an unfamiliar situation, they get anxious. Humor releases tension and can defuse that apprehension.

It enables candor. A little humor can demonstrate that you’re not worried about anything anybody might say, suggesting others shouldn’t worry either.

It lowers the stakes.  Qualitative research is often seen by participants as being ‘important’ and ‘serious.’ And they’re right. I’ve never worked on a study that wasn’t of crucial importance and to be taken seriously. However, this perception can work against participants relaxing and saying what they really think. If people are trying to say the ‘right’ thing, or worried about saying something ‘wrong’, they’re unlikely to be honest.

Why is humor so effective in facilitating honest interactions? Because it’s both subversive and transgressive. Subversive because it can be contrary to cultural norms. Transgressive because it can cross the boundaries created by those norms. So, humor can create that ‘just us chickens’ vibe that can be so valuable.

For example, ethics require qualitative researchers to disclose that colleagues are observing the research. Knowing they’re being observed could make people a bit uncomfortable. So, when making this disclosure, I often will make a joke at the expense of the observers such as “we put them on the other side of the mirror because they’re kind of funny-looking.”

The key thing about humor, particularly in professional or business settings, is to know exactly why you’re using it. Don’t just make a joke for the sake of being funny. Whether it’s to build rapport, boost morale or defuse conflict, be sure you have a purpose in mind.

And beware of the risks. There’s always a possibility you could say something others might find unprofessional or offensive, despite your intentions, so make sure the potential rewards outweigh the risks. Here are a few guidelines I follow:

Know your audience. Understand their sensitivities and cultural backgrounds.

Consider the context. Make sure humor is appropriate for the setting.

Avoid controversial topics. ‘Nuff said.

Assess reactions. Be ready to pull the rip cord if a joke seems to be falling flat.

So, go ahead. Let yourself be funny. Just don’t do it thoughtlessly.

It’s easy to lose sight of your objective.

When I did focus group moderator training in the early 90s, the trainer made a point I’ve never forgotten. In qualitative research, everything you do must be driven by the research objectives. This is a lesson I pass on whenever I mentor new qualitative researchers – the research objectives are your North Star. They inform every aspect of the research: the research specifications, the screening questionnaire, the discussion guide, the stimuli, the analysis, everything.

This idea seems so basic that you’d think it doesn’t even need to be said. But it does. As the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once wrote, “to forget one’s purpose is the commonest form of stupidity.” It’s easy to lose track of why you’re doing what you’re doing and get distracted by considerations unrelated to your goal.

Remember Kodak? It used to be one of the world’s great brands. The company invented the digital camera in the mid 1970s. However, it failed to develop this technology, despite its potential to revolutionize photography. Rather than staying true to its objective of remaining dominant in photography, the company instead chose to protect its film business. We all know how this story ends: Kodak declared bankruptcy in 2012.

When I start a qualitative study, my first order of business is to ask about the research objectives. Have they been fully articulated and agreed to by all stakeholders? Are they actionable and specific? If detailed objectives don’t exist, that’s job one.

Even with solid objectives, it’s easy to get sidetracked by transient, sometimes urgent complications. As the saying goes, “when you’re up to your ass in alligators, it’s difficult to remember that your initial objective was to drain the swamp.”

It’s common, once qualitative research is underway, to see unrelated questions added to the research because ‘we’re here anyway.’ A few years ago, I was conducting shop-along interviews. Our objective was to evaluate the visibility and strategic appropriateness of on-shelf signage.

Midway through the project, the brand team decided to test new package designs. Before we knew it, this took over the study, leaving no room for the original objectives. Fortunately, the research director restored order before things went completely off the rails.

This principle has implications beyond the qualitative research or business worlds. It’s easy to get diverted by external factors. Social pressures can undermine your focus. People who don’t understand your goals or share your passions can push you off your path. Nietzsche believed succumbing to such pressures to be a betrayal of one’s individuality and true purpose, and that only by committing fully to our purpose can we truly flourish.

So, as best you can, ignore the alligators and pay attention to Herr Nietzsche. Don’t lose sight of your purpose – it’s how you achieve success.

Thanks for all the emails and comments on my last newsletter on fear. Those led to interesting conversations, some of which focused on hope.

This isn’t surprising; hope and fear are two sides of the same coin. As a qualitative researcher, I pay close attention to hopes and fears. They are the two key attributes of an anticipation mindset – looking to the future with either anxiety or optimism. Anytime a research participant says something that sounds like one of those, I immediately dig into it. I’ve learned that, at the core of hopes and fears, lie beliefs. Beliefs are key – they drive everything we think and do. As philosopher and neuroscientist Sam Harris has written:

“A belief is a lever that, once pulled, moves almost everything in a person’s life.”

Sam is right – beliefs drive perceptions, decisions, and behaviors. I once conducted research among individuals who – despite having high blood pressure – weren’t taking the drugs they’d been prescribed. A number of factors drove this noncompliance, but a big one was fear. Some had specific fears: “my aunt fell and got a concussion because her meds made her blood pressure too low.” Others had non-specific fears: “I just worry about side effects.”

Both of these fears were rooted in a belief. The first participant believed – with good reason – that too high a dose can lead to hypotension, which increases the risk of fainting and falling. The second had a vague belief that “they don’t test these medicines enough.” He couldn’t cite any facts to support this belief, but that didn’t matter – it was real to him.

Sometimes we forgo things that would clearly benefit us due to irrational fears: enriching travel, leaving a bad job or a dysfunctional relationship, or avoiding an important medical therapy. And sometimes we get into patterns of self-destructive behaviors because we’re hoping that … ‘this time it’ll be different.’

That common wisdom about the definition of insanity – doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result – rings true. At the core of this sort of behavior generally lies an irrational hope … ‘maybe this time around Lucy won’t pull the football away.’

Hopes and fears can serve as a way of coping with uncertainty or adversity, and are valuable if kept in their place. But we need to be aware of them, lest they lead to bad decisions. It’s a good practice to interrogate our hopes and fears, particularly when they seem to be influencing our behavior. Where do they come from? Are they rational? Upon what beliefs are they based? Should we allow them to drive our behavior in this situation? The answers to those hard questions can help guide us to better decisions.