Finding the balance between intrinsic and extrinsic reward.
Over the course of a year at Thacher, students and faculty members learn about each other in a thousand different ways, times, and contexts: around the breakfast or formal dinner table, in a sunshiny moment on the Pergola or a sunset shared on a trail, at the whiteboard in a classroom, lab, studio or seminar circle, at practices and games and rehearsals, at coffeehouses and Open Houses, in dorm common rooms, and in Suburbans on highways or back roads on the way to community service projects, field trips, cultural excursions, or athletic events. Then there’s each faculty member’s TOADTalk. Monday morning’s all-School Assembly launches with whatever the Teacher On Active Duty wishes to share—a reflection, a story or song, a demonstration of some sort, or a simple poem. In this way, every week of the school year, the community gains a new window into the mind or heart or spirit of one of our own. Peter Sawyer, stalwart of the Science Department, linked two colleagues' Monday talks with his own to go deep on the question of intrinsic vs. extrinsic reward.
“A rock lies in wait to turn an ankle. A car driver forgets to look to the right as a runner approaches. A muscle action begins to pull. Billions of viral Rocky’s look for a body punch.”
That line comes from Don Kardong’s book Thirty Phone Booths to Boston. You have probably never heard of Don Kardong, but he was one of this country’s preeminent long distance runners in the mid 1970s. Don ran throughout high school and attended Stanford University, where he was a standout long distance runner. At the 1972 Olympic Trials he finished 6th in both the 10,000 meters and the marathon. He continued to train and fight through injuries until in 1976 he finished 3rd in the U.S. Olympic Trials Marathon (2:13:54), and was 4th in the U.S. Olympic Trials 5000 meters a month later. He finished 4th in the 1976 Olympic Marathon in Montreal, running a personal best of 2:11:16, missing the bronze medal by 3 seconds. He was also selected "Road Runner of the Year" by the Road Runners Club of America in that year. The reason that you have probably never heard of him is that while he was one of the best runners of his time, he never won an Olympic medal.
Many of you know that I am a “runner.” It is what I like to do in my spare time. I have never been so committed to the endeavor as to accomplish anything as impressive as Don Kardong or even our own Fred Coleman. I run because I like it! I run because it makes me feel good, and if I run a lot, I can eat anything that is put in front of me and not worry about the consequences. It is what I do, it is what I am, and it is its own reward.
Earlier in the year, Mr. Manson spoke to all of you about the importance of intrinsic rewards and Dr. DelVechio spoke to you about running and failure. I would like to attempt to touch on both of those subjects today, and speak to you about how you can understand the feelings and aspirations of others while striking a balance between the intrinsic and extrinsic rewards in your own life.
You may notice from my T-shirt that I am a member of the Thacher Running Club. You may look at the 400 on this T-shirt and realize that it represents the fact that I ran 400 miles over one of the previous four summers. What you might not realize is that this t-shirt represents failure to me. It is not a bad thing, but it is something that I have lived with since I was awarded this t-shirt for my efforts. Perhaps I have some explaining to do, as many of you are sitting back right now thinking, that old guy ran 400 miles over a summer, how can he look at it as a failure? Well, it is a failure to me because I failed to reach my goal. I had set out at the beginning of the summer of 2009 ready, and I thought prepared, to leap from the pack of the 300 mile club to the elite status of the 500 mile club. I had run almost every day during the end of the spring trimester, and was ready to up my mileage when summer vacation rolled around and I found myself with more discretionary time. I had upped my relatively “easy” 34 miles the first week of June to 59 miles the last week in June, and with two-thirds of the summer remaining, I was well on my way toward my goal. By the end of the fifth week, I was over half way toward my goal of 500 miles. Two weeks later, on July 19, 2009, as I was completing a 9 mile run in the mountains, my left hamstring decided it had had enough, and from that point on, I “limped” my way to just over 400 miles. I had “failed” at my goal. And why?
Because I had violated Mr. Coleman’s 10% rule from the very beginning. The running at the beginning of the summer had felt so good that I not only violated the cardinal rule of never increasing your mileage more than 10% a week, but I had blasted right through it. Why did I do it? In addition to not listening to my body, I wanted that t-shirt. I wanted the extrinsic reward that would tell the community that I had reached the pinnacle of the Thacher Running Club. While the intrinsic reward of running should have been enough, the extrinsic reward of showing this community what I was capable of got in the way.
This is where I shift the focus from me, to all of us. I believe that a healthy balance of intrinsic and extrinsic rewards can be achieved. We have to understand that the intrinsic rewards are the ones you carry with you inside, while the extrinsic ones are areas where you may be judged by others. If you look out our assembly today, you see many examples of extrinsic rewards. There are students wearing college sweatshirts, team jackets, and hats. We all feel rewarded in some way by our association with these universities, teams, or clubs. The uniforms that you wear on the sports fields or the vests that you may wear on the gymkhana field are extrinsic rewards that tell others of your accomplishments. This is not really a bad thing. It is good to have positive associations with these entities and to share them with others. I feel good when I am stopped in places like Walker, California by someone who sees my Thacher sweatshirt and asks about my association with the school. There is nothing wrong with this kind of recognition of your accomplishments, but be careful that it is not the reason that you do what you do.
In a few short weeks, many of our seniors will find out where they will be attending college. To me, this is a time of extrinsic rewards mixed with very strongly held intrinsic rewards, and is therefore often uncomfortable for the community. As a senior, you may be accepted to one of the finest universities in the country, and one that many of your peers would gladly attend, but the fact that you didn’t get into your first choice may make that acceptance feel like a failure. Your college list may feel like “the rock that lies in wait to turn an ankle,” but if you can step back a little bit, and realize that there are lots of great schools out there, and that you are in control of how you feel about those schools and your future, you will be able to turn that disappointment around. While you may not accomplish the extrinsic reward “being accepted to” a particular university, you should have the intrinsic reward of knowing that you did your best and that some matters are out of your hands or are simply “bad luck.” No matter what university name is printed at the top of your college diploma, you all have the ability to accomplish great things in your lives and to be happy, healthy, productive adults.
Sometimes our “failures” set us up for our future successes. Aaron Rodgers, the quarterback of the Green Bay Packers and the MVP of last night’s Super Bowl said in interviews last week that his “failure” to be the first quarter back selected in the NFL draft was probably the best thing that could have happened to him. It “humbled” him. It also gave him the opportunity to learn from arguably one of the best quarterbacks in the NFL. When he got his chance to show what he could do, he made the most of it!
Last summer was one of the finest of my life, and a lot of that had to do with the fact that I was able to do what I wanted to do, run at least four miles a day, six days a week. I had the time, I had the desire, and I was prepared. As I look back on it, the only reason that I was so well prepared is that I had “failed” the year before. I had learned a great deal from that experience and I came out a better person as a result. I realized what made me happy was what I was doing, not what other people thought of it. I hope that throughout your lives, you can also look back at your “failures” as opportunities for success.