The wisdom of the process
We are often tempted to act impulsively, even though it is not in our interest. Good processes can help us avoid giving in to short-term temptations
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One of my oldest memories is learning how meals worked: if I ate what was on my plate, I could have a dessert (which was often one of my mum’s superb home-made puddings). If I didn’t, then I couldn’t. That was the mealtime process.
And it worked, for me and for my two sisters who came behind me. The process meant there was no pleading or negotiating — it was just the way it was. The same for all of us, at all times. It was only much later that I realized why that process was in place. Leave children to choose whether they’ll eat their beans, carrots or cauliflower first, and dessert afterwards, or whether they’ll start with the pudding or the cake and then — if they’re still hungry — have some vegetables, and we can be pretty sure what they will prefer. It’s not necessarily that kids don’t like vegetables, it’s just that they like sweet stuff more.
Processes everywhere
Arguably, that same process still guides us as adults. We no longer have to obey our parents, yet despite the attractions of a piece of black forest gateau or banoffee pie, most of us still have them at the end of our meal, rather than at the start. And our daily life is full of such processes we follow without much reasoning — often without any reasoning at all.
In traffic, we stop for red lights and we give way to main roads. At work, we don’t just go and occupy a meeting room without booking it. The prevailing processes make traffic safer, and at work they stop us being an arsehole — even if we are tempted to go through the red because we are in a hurry, or to just grab a meeting room because we forgot to organize one, and we really need one. They also mean that when we are on a main road, we can proceed smoothly, and when we have reserved a meeting room we will not have to contend with squatters.
