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.

The real world is complicated and messy. And that’s what’s great about it.

I love Edward Hopper’s works. They carry a sense of simplicity and longing that have always resonated with me.
Hopper’s paintings are often described as melancholy, a quality that stems from their sparseness of composition and the isolation of the characters depicted. But, to me, this also illustrates the opposite idea: that much of the joy and exuberance of life comes from human relationships and the fact that the world is complicated and messy.

Take a look at the image at the top of this newsletter. Nighthawks is probably Hopper’s most famous work. It’s a beautiful composition of stillness, stark lighting and characters lost in their own thoughts. And, I don’t know about you, but that’s probably the neatest, calmest diner I’ve ever seen. Think about what a real diner would be like: signs all over the walls (try our corned beef hash!), plates of food and cups of coffee in constant motion, people engaged in animated conversation and waitresses calling everybody “hon.” And that’s why I love diners.

So, here’s an important thing to remember this time of year—if you try to be too perfect, if you try to make everything just so, you’re likely to squeeze all the life out of what’s going on. The holidays are often a fraught time of year, and it doesn’t help to beat yourself up over everything not being as neat and organized as it ‘should’ be. Allow yourself to enjoy the hullabaloo that generally accompanies the holidays.

I wrote a year-end piece a few years ago about what I call ‘The Dirty Harry Principle.’ It’s about a closely related idea: knowing your limitations, being comfortable with them, and not needing to be perfect all the time, particularly this time of year. It’s a message worth a few minutes of your time.

There’s an important implication here for my field of qualitative research: don’t try to make conversations and research stimuli overly neat and orderly. Let them be kind of messy to create energy and simulate reality. For example, overly simple and clean renderings of a retail shelf set may produce misleading results because actual retail environments are so cluttered and untidy. Also, real-world conversations generally don’t involve everybody taking their turn to speak—they can be pretty chaotic. While quantitative research needs to be controlled and structured in order to generate representative and projectable data, qual doesn’t need to do that. So let the turmoil work for you.

My previous newsletter was about how decision making in the real world tends to be messy, impulsive and irrational. Decision making isn’t the only human phenomenon that’s kind of wild. We’re just a crazy species. So embrace that old adage:  God bless this mess.

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.

Perhaps you’ve noticed we’re living in tense times

Disagreements seem to dominate the public sphere and our private lives. How we approach these differences is more urgent than you might think.

Being a qualitative researcher requires interest in, and empathy towards, the opinions and beliefs of others. It’s part of the fundamental ethos of the field. So I have a professional obligation to identify with others.

I once wrote a piece about ‘the debating society principle:’ the idea that we have a responsibility to understand opinions contrary to our own. Since then, I’ve had conversations with more than a few people who disagree with this premise. They are entirely apathetic towards different opinions and view even trying to understand such perspectives as being somehow immoral. They feel no need to agree to disagree. This has become a particularly acute issue, being that we are living in highly polarized times.

Having empathy for someone with whom you differ doesn’t require you to agree with that person. It simply asks you to respect the person and try to see things from his or her perspective.

The idea that it is OK – if not laudable – to have no interest in a point of view different from your own brings to mind the philosopher and civil rights leader Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, who once wrote that “the opposite of good is not evil; the opposite of good is indifference.” Being indifferent to the beliefs and feelings of another person strikes me as the first step toward dehumanizing that person. Once we start seeing some individuals as being less than fully human, bad things start to happen. If you’re wondering why we seem to be in a period of such profound societal and political dysfunction, perhaps this helps to explain that.

Being uninterested in the beliefs of another human being – and perhaps dismissive of that person’s fundamental humanity – puts you on a slippery slope. It places you in danger of becoming something you never wanted to (or even thought you could) be.

We’re in a particularly fraught time right now, as we’re only a few weeks from an election. No matter what your political point of view, realize that about half of your fellow citizens probably disagree with you on at least one major issue. This brings you face-to-face with a crucial choice: will you view opinions that are contrary to yours with empathy or apathy? Your own humanity may hang in the balance.

It’s not always wise to trust yourself.

In qualitative research, it’s important to enter each study with an open mind. This is one reason clients hire outsiders to do this sort of work – we are unencumbered by preexisting opinions. Clients, because they are so close to their business, tend to have firm beliefs about their brands. Often, it falls to outsiders to challenge those beliefs. This can create tension.

Human beings don’t like to have their beliefs challenged. It’s uncomfortable, and it complicates things. Certainty – considering some topics no longer up for debate – is one way we simplify matters.

My last newsletter was about critical thinking. Being able to question fundamental beliefs is an essential part of this skillset. If you’re thinking critically, you’ll be suspicious of your own opinions, particularly your strong convictions. Certainty can be the enemy of clear, logical, critical thinking.

The desire for certainty is firmly rooted in human evolution, and has served many important purposes during our history as a species:

Risk reduction – Seeking a high degree of certainty in a situation may reduce the likelihood of bad decisions. For instance, if you try to be as certain as possible that an investment won’t lose money, there’s less chance you’ll take a loss.

Persuasiveness – If you truly believe something yourself, that will come across when you try to convince somebody else.

Social cohesion – Homo sapiens is a tribal animal. In social groups, having shared firm beliefs about social norms can engender cooperation and trust. This is crucial to survival under difficult conditions.

Cognitive efficiency – Certainty conserves cognitive resources. Making decisions under uncertainty is mentally taxing. A preference for certainty simplifies decision-making, making it quicker and less resource intensive.

So, certainty is something we naturally seek. But sometimes, this instinct works against our interests. The art lies in figuring out when to re-open debate, and when to let something remain settled.

This is when it’s helpful to have a process. Here are three questions to ask when you might be overly certain about something:

1. What emotions are triggered when you entertain doubt about a belief? If you’re becoming angry or anxious, that’s a cue to push past those feelings and question this belief.

2. What evidence would need to change your position? If you can’t articulate that, that’s not a good sign. Unfalsifiable beliefs can be dangerous.

3. Can you state opposing perspectives honestly? Also, how do you feel about people who hold those opinions? If you doubt their character, can’t honestly state their position and resort to personal attacks, that’s a sign of false certainty.

So, go ahead. Make yourself uncomfortable. Get in the habit of questioning the things about which you are certain. It will help you think more clearly. And maybe you’ll even learn something new.