How Happiness Changes As We Age

I'm just shy of 40 years-old. I spend most Saturday nights at home in yoga pants, rereading favorite novels or watching old movies, or playing Monopoly Junior with my seven-year-old. (If you think Monopoly is boring, then you haven't tried Monopoly Junior.) 

This way of spending my Saturday nights makes me happy. If you went back and told my cooler 20-year-old self about the typical evening that awaits the future her, though, she would be pretty devastated that her life turns out to be so ... boring. That a Saturday night spent reading a book -- not even a new book -- qualifies as a great time.

"What the hell happens to me?" she would wonder. A lot of people feel that way to some extent when we look back at our younger selves and realize how much we've changed. The answer, of course, is that we all grow up -- and for many of us, what it means to be "happy" slowly evolves into something completely different.

Happiness becomes less the high-energy, totally-psyched experience of a teenager partying while his parents are out of town, and more the peaceful, relaxing experience of an overworked mom who's been dreaming of that hot bath all day. The latter isn't less "happy" than the former -- it's a different way of understanding what happiness is.

Social psychologists describe this change as a consequence of a gradual shifting from promotion motivation -- seeing our goals in terms of what we can gain, or how we can end up better off, to prevention motivation -- seeing our goals in terms of avoiding loss and keeping things running smoothly. Everyone, of course, has both motivations. But the relative amounts of each differ from person to person, and can shift with experience as we age.

Research from Northwestern University in the journal Psychology and Aging suggests that promotion-mindedness is most prevalent among the young, because youth is a time for focusing on your hopes for the future, what you ideally want to do -- you don't have much in the way of responsibilities, and you still believe you can do anything you set your mind to. That and you think you are immortal. This is more or less a recipe for strong promotion motivation.

As we get older, illusions of immortality vanish. There is a mortgage that needs to be paid, a home that must be maintained, and children to be cared for. (Speaking of children, new mothers are an especially prevention-minded group. They have the daunting task of somehow protecting a completely vulnerable, clueless, yet hell-bent-on-exploration infant from a world filled with germs, stairs, pointy objects, and electrical outlets. New motherhood is mostly about ceaseless vigilance.)

The older we get, the more we want to hang on to what we've already got -- the things we've worked so hard to achieve. We also have more experience with pain and loss, having been knocked around a bit by life, and having learned a few lessons the hard way.

In a recent set of studies, psychologists Cassie Mogliner, Sepandar Kamvar, and Jennifer Aaker looked for evidence of how our sense of happiness changes with age by analyzing twelve million personal blogs. Specifically, they were interested in seeing what kinds of emotions the bloggers mentioned when they talked about feeling "happy."

They found that younger bloggers described experiences of happiness as being times when they felt excited, ecstatic, or elated -- they way you feel when you are anticipating the joys the future will bring - like finding love, getting ahead at work, or moving to a new town.

Older bloggers were more inclined to describe happy experiences as moments of feeling peaceful, relaxed, calm, or relieved - they way you feel when you are getting along with your spouse, staying healthy, and able to make your mortgage payments. This kind of happiness is less about what lies ahead, and more about being content in your current circumstances.

(You can see these age-related differences in motivation very much reflected in the workplace, where older workers have more prevention-motivated concerns - like job security and flexible work schedules, while people under thirty have more promotion concerns -- like opportunities to develop skills.)

If you're like me, and you find that your life has become more about pursuing peace and relaxation than giddy excitement, rest assured that you aren't missing out on happiness. Your happiness has evolved, just as you have. Even though our version seems less fun by the standards of our younger selves, that doesn't mean it's less good. 

The Most Effective Ways to Make It Right When You Screw Up

After promising your boss you would complete an important assignment on time, you realize you're behind and it's going to be late. You unintentionally leave a colleague out of the loop on a joint project, causing him or her to feel frustrated and a bit betrayed. On the subway, you aren't paying attention and accidentally spill hot coffee all over a stranger's expensive suit. It's time for a mea culpa.

Apologies are tricky. Done right, they can resolve conflict, repair hurt feelings, foster forgiveness, and improve relationships. An apology can even keep you out of the courtroom. Despite the fact that lawyers often caution their clients to avoid apologies, fearing that they are tantamount to an admission of guilt, studies show that when potential plaintiffs receive an apology, they are more likely to settle out of court for less money.

However, as anyone can tell you, most apologies don't go so well. Ask John Galliano, for instance. Or John Edwards, or Todd Aiken, or Kanye West. (I could go on and on.) An apology is no guarantee that you'll find yourself out of hot water.

This is usually either because the person or persons from whom you are seeking forgiveness really aren't interested in forgiving, or because the transgression itself is deemed unforgivable. But more often than not, your apology falls flat because you're apologizing the wrong way.

In a nutshell, the problem is that most people tend to make their apologies about themselves—about their intentions, thoughts, and feelings.

"I didn't mean to..."

"I was trying to..."

"I didn't realize..."

"I had a good reason..."

When you screw up, the victim of your screw up does not want to hear about you. Therefore, stop talking about you and put the focus of your apology where it belongs: on him or her. Specifically, concentrate on how the victim has been affected by your mistake, on how the person is feeling, and on what he or she needs from you in order to move forward.

Thanks to recent research on effective apologies, you can fine-tune your approach even further according to your relationship with the recipient of the apology:

You Are A Stranger or Mere Acquaintance
The guy in the coffee-stained suit wants an offer of compensation. Offers of compensation are attempts to restore balance through some redeeming action. Sometimes the compensation is tangible, like paying to repair or replace your neighbor's fence when you inadvertently back your car into it, or running out to get your girlfriend a new phone when you accidentally drop hers into the toilet (which happened to me, by the way. Not cool.) Offers of compensation can also be more emotional or socially-supportive. (as in,"I'm sorry I acted like a jerk, and I'll make it up to you by being extra thoughtful from now on.")

You Are My Partner, Colleague, or Friend
The colleague you accidentally left out of the loop doesn't want compensation. When you have a relationship with the injured party, you will instead need to take his or her perspective and express empathy. Expressions of empathy involve recognizing and expressing concern over the suffering you caused. (e.g., "I'm so sorry that I didn't appreciate all of your effort. You must have felt awful, and that's the last thing I want.") Through expressions of empathy, the victim feels understood and valued as a partner in the relationship, and trust is restored.

You Let Our Team Down
In the modern workplace, we often operate as teams. So when you fail to meet an important deadline, chances are it's not just your boss that's affected—it's your whole team, and possibly your whole organization. In team settings, people don't want compensation or empathy—they want an acknowledgement of violated rules and norms. Basically, you need to admit that you broke the code of behavior of your social group, your organization, or your society. (e.g., "I have a responsibility to my team/organization/family/community and I should have known better. I didn't just let myself down, I let others who count on me down.")

When you think about it, it's surprising that we're often so bad at apologizing. After all, we are frequently on the receiving end of apologies ourselves—so we should know what works and what doesn't. In reality, we often forget what it's like to be on the other side—whether we're trying to apologize, impress, persuade, help, or motivate.

So when crafting your apology, remember to ask yourself the following: Who am I talking to, and what is he or she looking for in my apology? The guy on the subway still dripping from your morning joe doesn't want to hear that you "feel his pain"—but when you forget your wife's birthday, she most definitely would like you to feel hers.

How To Walk Away

Most of us know what it's like to stay in a job or a relationship after it's stopped being satisfying, or to take on a project that's too big and be reluctant to admit it. CEOs have been known to allocate manpower and money to projects long after it becomes clear that they are failing. Think of JP Morgan's "London Whale" Bruno Iksil, who doubled down on a losing bet rather than admit his losses and ultimately cost the bank over six billion dollars. Similarly there was John Edwards, who couldn't bring himself to end his losing bid for the presidency even after his mistress became pregnant.

The costs to a person who does not know when to quit can be enormous. In economics it's known as sunk cost fallacy, though the costs are more than financial. While we recognize the fallacy almost immediately in others, it's harder to see in ourselves. Why?

Once you've realized that you probably won't succeed, or that you are unhappy with the results, it shouldn't matter how much time and effort you've already put into something. If your job or your boyfriend have taken up some of the best years of your life, it doesn't make sense to let them use up the years you've got left. An ugly living room is an ugly living room, no matter how much money you spent making it so. As studies by behavioral economists like Daniel Kahnemen and Dan Ariely show, people are generally loss-averse. Putting in a lot, only to end up with nothing to show for it, is just too awful for most of us to seriously consider. The problem is one of focus. We worry far too much about what we'll lose if we just move on, instead of focusing on the costs of not moving on: more wasted time and effort, more unhappiness, and more missed opportunities.

In one of their studies, Molden and Hui put participants into either a promotion or prevention focus (by asking them to write about their goals in terms of either gains or losses, respectively). Next, each participant was told to imagine that he or she was CEO of an aviation company that had committed $10 million to developing a plane that can't be detected by radar. With the project near completion and $9 million already spent, a rival company announces the availability of their own radar-blank plane, which is both superior in performance and lower in cost. The question put to CEOs was simple: do you invest the remaining $1 million and finish your company's (inferior, more expensive, and of course less marketable) plane, or cut your losses and move on? Molden and Hui found that participants with a prevention focus stayed the course and invested the remaining $1 million roughly 80 percent of the time. The odds of making that mistake were significantly reduced by adopting a promotion focus: Those people invested the remaining $1 million less than 60 percent of the time.

There are several powerful, largely unconscious psychological forces at work. We may throw good money after bad or waste time in a dead-end relationship because we haven't come up with an alternative; or because we don't want to admit to our friends and family, or to ourselves, that we were wrong. But the most likely culprit is this innate, overwhelming aversion to sunk costs.

Sunk costs are the investments that you've put into something that you can't get back out. They are the years you spent training for a profession you hate, or waiting for your commitment-phobic boyfriend to propose. They are the thousands of dollars you spent on redecorating your living room, only to find that you hate living in it.

Recent research by Northwestern University psychologists Daniel Molden and Chin Ming Hui demonstrates an effective way to be sure you are making the best decisions when things go awry: focus on what you have to gain by moving on, rather than what you have to lose. When people think about goals in terms of potential gain, that's a "promotion focus," which makes them more comfortable making mistakes and accepting losses. When people adopt a "prevention focus," they think about goals in terms of what they could lose if they don't succeed, so they become more sensitive to sunk costs. This is the focus people usually adopt, if unconsciously, when deciding whether or not to walk away. It usually tells us not to walk away, even when we should.

When we see our goals in terms of what we can gain, rather than what we might lose, we are more likely to see a doomed endeavor for what it is.

Were You Raised Like Jefferson, or Like Adams?

In 1783, Thomas Jefferson was in Annapolis, Maryland, serving as a Virginia delegate to the Continental Congress. At the time, he was still grieving the death of his wife Martha, who had died soon after giving birth to their sixth child a year before. When duty called, Jefferson reluctantly left Monticello and his three living children -- Martha (whom he called Patsy), Mary, and Lucy -- in the care of a family friend. Forced to perform his fatherly duties from a distance, he wrote frequently to Patsy, who at the time of the following letter was 11 years old:

My Dear Patsy,
After four days' journey, I arrived here without any accident, and in as good health as when I left Philadelphia. The conviction that you would be more improved in the situation I have placed you than if still with me, has solaced me on my parting with you, which my love for you had rendered a difficult thing. The acquirements which I hope you will make under the tutors I have provided for you will render you more worthy of my love; and if they cannot increase it, they will prevent its diminution....
I have placed my happiness on seeing you good and accomplished, and no distress which this world can now bring on me could equal that of your disappointing my hopes. If you love me then, strive to be good under every situation and to all living creatures, and to acquire those accomplishments which I have put in your power, and which will go far towards ensuring you the warmest love of your affectionate father.

A few years earlier, in the midst of the colonies' struggle for independence, 11-year-old John Quincy Adams had accompanied his father on a mission to Paris to convince France to join in the war against Britain. His mother, Abigail, was said to have missed her eldest son dearly, and wrote to him frequently. When she wrote the following letter in 1778, he had just completed the arduous Atlantic crossing:

My Dear Son,
Tis almost four months since you left your native land and embarked upon the mighty waters in quest of a foreign country. Altho [sic] I have not perticuliarly [sic] wrote to you since yet you may be assured you have constantly been upon my heart and mind.
... remember that you are accountable to your maker for all your words and actions. Let me injoin [sic] it upon you to attend constantly and steadfastly to the precepts and instructions of your father as you value the happiness of your mother and your own welfare. ..., for dear as you are to me, I had much rather you should have found your grave in the ocean you have crossed, or any untimely death crop you in your infant years, rather than see you an immoral profligate or a graceless child.
Yet you must keep a strict guard upon yourself, or the odious monster [i.e., vice] will soon loose its terror, by becoming familiar to you.

Upon first reading, it is immediately striking how remarkably frank eighteenth-century Americans were with their 11-year-olds. Beyond that similarity, these two individuals were clearly parenting their children in very different ways, and psychologists have spent the last twenty years studying and understanding the impact of these differences on the adults we eventually become.

Let's begin with Jefferson's parenting. Notice how in his letter, he speaks frequently of his hopes for Patsy, and of his desire for her to be accomplished -- to fulfill her potential. He expresses his deep love for her, while also threatening in no uncertain terms to withhold that love should she disappoint his hopes. When parents think about their child mainly in terms of how they would ideally like the child to be, as Jefferson did, they often shape their child's behavior through providing (and withholding) positive experiences. So when the child behaves well, he is showered with praise, affection, or attention. But when he misbehaves, he gets the cold shoulder, and his happiness is replaced by feelings of emptiness and dejection.

We now know that children who are raised this way come to see their goals, at work and in life, as ways to obtain those same positive experiences -- in other words, as opportunities for gain, accomplishment, or advancement. They "play to win," and have what's called a promotion focus. Many studies, most of which have been conducted at Columbia University's Motivation Science Center, show that promotion-focused adults tend to be optimists, are more likely to take chances and seize opportunities, and excel at creativity and innovation. On the other hand, all that chance-taking and positive thinking makes them more prone to error, less likely to completely think things through, and usually unprepared with a Plan B in case things go wrong. But despite the risks, a promotion-focused person would rather say Yes! and have it all blow up in his face than feel like he let Opportunity's knock go unanswered.

Another example of Jefferson's promotion-focused parenting can be found in Senator Edward Kennedy's memoir True Compass, and the recollection of words his father, Joseph Kennedy Sr., spoke to him when he was a boy.

You can have a serious life or a nonserious life, Teddy. I'll still love you whichever choice you make. But if you decide to have a nonserious life, I won't have much time for you. You make up your own mind. There are too many children here who are doing things that are interesting for me to do much with you.

Again, if Teddy does something "interesting" (i.e., living up to his father's ideals for him), then he will be rewarded with attention -- attention that all of Joe Sr.'s many children very much wanted. If he failed to be interesting, then Father would withdraw that attention -- and Teddy was fairly warned. It's not surprising, then, that so many of Joe Sr.'s children evidenced such strong signs of promotion focus in their adulthood: ambitiousness, confidence, creativity, an eagerness to tackle new challenges, and a degree of recklessness, too.

Now, look again at Abigail's letter to young John Quincy. She doesn't promise her love as a reward for his accomplishments, nor does she entreat him to live up to his potential. Instead, she emphasizes the importance of being accountable, following instructions, adhering to moral rules, and avoiding the danger of sin and vice. In other words, she reminds her son of what he shouldbe, and of the dire consequences of failing to live up to those expectations.

Parents, like Adams, who think of their child more in terms of who they believe the child ought to be -- in terms of the child's duties and obligations -- are more likely to influence their child through the providing of (and protecting from) negative experiences. When he does something that violates his mother's rules, he is criticized or punished (e.g. extra chores); but when he obeys the rules and makes no mistakes, life is peaceful.

Children raised this way become adults who often see their goals in life as opportunities to meet their responsibilities and stay safe. They don't really play to win; they play to not lose, and have what we call a prevention focus. In our studies, we find the prevention-focused to be defensive pessimists -- more driven by criticism and the looming possibility of failure than by applause and a sunny outlook. Prevention-focused people are often more cautious and don't like to take chances, but their work is also more thorough, accurate, and carefully-planned. They are also more analytical, better able to delay gratification and follow rules, better organized, and more conscientious. Their biggest regrets are the mistakes they might have avoided, if only they had been more vigilant.

No wonder, then, that young John Quincy Adams grew to become a successful life-long public servant, and a man of great personal reserve and austerity, whom the historian Paul C. Nagel described as "inordinately vexed by his own blunders and inadequacies."

So is it better to parent like Jefferson or Adams? It's worth pointing out that the difference between Jefferson's promotion parenting and Adams' prevention parenting isn't necessarily about the kinds of values you want to give your child. Two sets of parents may seek to instill the same goals and values in their children -- let's say, wanting them to do well in school, share generously with others, and be polite -- but they can go about sending the message very differently. ("If you do well in school, I'll be so proud of you!" versus "If you don't do well in school, you'll be in big trouble.") It's this difference in delivery, rather than in content, that shapes a child's dominant focus.

Of course, it is possible for child to be both promotion and prevention-focused, allowing them to be creative and analytical, good at seizing opportunities and careful planning. Taking a page from both Jefferson and Adams is probably the best approach, though you might want to lighten it up a little. The watery grave part seems, in retrospect, a bit much.Which focus is better? The answer is, neither. Promotion and prevention focus have different strengths and weaknesses, and they can both lead to the enjoyment of successful, satisfying lives. Really, all good parenting has trade-offs. There is no particular kind of parenting that yields for children "all the benefits, and nothing but the benefits."

The 1 Minute Trick to Negotiating Like a Boss

Life is full of negotiations, big and small. We negotiate for raises, we negotiate with clients and providers over prices, and we negotiate for more staff, the best projects, and flex time. (Then we go home and negotiate with our kids about how old you have to be to get your own smartphone.)

To be successful, you really need to know how to negotiate well. But the truth is, this particular skill doesn't come naturally to many people. This is because a negotiation is an experience that is rife with conflicting motivations. When you haggle with another party over price, you need to somehow reconcile your desire to pay (or be paid) your target amount with your fear that if you push too hard, the negotiation may break down. You might end up empty-handed, humiliated, or out of a job. Negotiations are always gambles, and there is always risk.

Who Keeps Their Eyes on The Prize?
One quality that great negotiators possess is the ability to stay focused on their ideal target, despite the risks they are facing. As research conducted by Columbia's Adam Galinsky and his collegues shows, those most able to do it have what's called a promotion focus.

Promotion-focused people think about their goals as opportunities to gain — to advance or achieve, to end up better off than they are now. Whenever we think about our goals in terms of potential gains, we automatically (often without realizing it) become more comfortable with risk and less sensitive to concerns about what could go wrong. Prevention-focused people, on the other hand, think about their goals in terms of what they could lose if they don't succeed — they want to stay safe and keep things running smoothly. Consequently, when we are prevention-focused, we become much more conservative and risk-averse.

As Tory Higgins and I describe in Focus and in our recent HBR article, these different ways of looking at the same goal impact everything about us — our strengths and weaknesses, the strategies we use, and what motivates us. When the goal in question is to pay the lowest price or to get the biggest raise, our focus has profound effects on the way we negotiate.

In one of Galinsky's studies, MBA students performed the role of a job recruiter, whose goal was to hire a desired candidate (played by another MBA student) while paying the lowest possible signing bonus. Before beginning the negotiation, the recruiters completed an assessment of their dominant focus. (Want to try it? You can here.) The researchers found that the more promotion-focused a recruiter was, the less money they ended up doling out in the final agreement. Promotion focus and money paid were correlated an impressive -0.40.

Why were they so successful? Galinsky found that more promotion-focused a recruiter was, the more likely they were to report having kept their target price in mind throughout the negotiation. A prevention focus, on the other hand, leads to too much worrying about a negotiation failure or impasse, leaving the recruiter more susceptible to less advantageous agreements.

The Bold Opener
A second essential in negotiation is a strong opening bid, since that bid is the jumping off point as well as the frame of reference for the negotiation that follows. You are never going to end up paying less than your initial offer when purchasing a car or making a bigger salary than you asked for when starting your new job. But a strong opening bid takes a certain amount of confidence — and promotion focus helps us achieve this.

In a second study, Galinksy and his colleagues divided 54 MBA students into pairs and asked them to take part in a mock negotiation involving the sale of a pharmaceutical plant. Both the "seller" and "buyer" were given detailed information about the circumstances of the sale, including the fact that the "bargaining zone" would range from $17-25 million dollars.

The researchers then manipulated the focus of the buyers to be either promotion or prevention (I'll explain how you do that later). The negotiation then began with an opening bid from the buyer. Promotion-focused buyers opened with a bid an average of nearly $4 million dollars less than prevention-focused buyers. They were willing to take the greater risk and bid aggressively low, which ultimately paid off in a big way. In the end, promotion buyers purchased the plant for an average of $21.24 million, while prevention buyers paid $24.07 million.

This is one of those things that is worth taking a moment to think about — two negotiators, each armed with identical information, facing similar opponents, and yet one overpays by nearly $4 million dollars. The only difference was that one negotiator was thinking about all that he could gain, while the other focused too much on what he had to lose.

Making The Pie Bigger For Everyone
Promotion focus helps you get a bigger piece of the pie than your opponent. But of course, not every negotiation has to have a winner and a loser. In multiple issue negotiations, there is the possibility of outcomes that are beneficial to both parties, because each party may not prioritize every issue the same way. By yielding on lower priority issues, both parties can reach compromises that get them what they want most - a solution that, as Galinsky and colleagues put it "expands the pie."

Who is most likely to find these optimally beneficial solutions? It probably won't surprise you to learn that when the researchers placed both parties in a multiple issue negotiation in a promotion focus, they reached the maximally efficient outcome 79% of the time (compared to only 65% of the time when they were prevention-focused).

How You Can Become More Promotion-Focused
Even if you are naturally prevention-focused or if you tend to become prevention-focused when faced with the uncertainties of negotiation, you can become promotion-focused when you need to be. All you need to do is take a minute or two to focus only on what you have to gain and what you hope to achieve and banish all thoughts of what you might lose.

For example, to put his buyers in a promotion focus, Galinsky simply asked them the following :
Please take a couple of minutes to think about the aspirations you have in a negotiation. What are the negotiation behaviors and outcomes you hope to achieve during a negotiation? How you could promote these behaviors and outcomes?

It's really as simple as that. When you are preparing for your next negotiation, take a moment to list everything you hope to accomplish, and all the ways in which you will benefit if you are successful. Re-read this list just before the negotiation begins. And most importantly, shut out any thoughts about what could go wrong — just refuse to give them your attention.

With practice, this focus-training will become easier and eventually more or less automatic. Negotiating can become second nature to you if you think about your goals in the right way.

http://www.amazon.com/Focus-Different-Success-Influence-ebook/dp/B008BM4MM6/ref=tmm_kin_title_0

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