In The Prestige, Michael Caine told Christian Bale’s character, Borden, that he was every bit the better magician than Angier, played by Hugh Jackman; but what Angier lacked in skills and creativity, he made up for in showmanship. He was the better performer than Borden ever was. And that made him the better entertainer.
It makes sense for magicians to polish their showmanship. It’s what makes or breaks their craft. But why should it matter to us? We’re no performers.
Or are we?
There comes a point in life when you will suddenly realize that it’s not just about you, that the world doesn’t revolve around you, that you don’t always have the final say in things and that in order to get to the end you desire, sometimes you need to dust off your very best velvet top hat and put on a good show. Sometimes it’s not about what you have done and what you will do. It’s about creating the perception of who you are and what you’re capable of. It’s about signaling.
This may come as a shock to some, but what incentivizes people to behave the way they do --- shooting up arms to answer questions before the teacher can even finish her sentences, volunteering to do all the grunt work that everyone tries to steer clear from, reporting for duty in the office at the crack of dawn, wearing five-hundred-dollar suits to client meetings, is often not the immediate rewards --- the 10% participation grade, the verbal compliments, the nods of approval, but the taciturn checkmarks on scoreboards that ultimately add up to your reputation.
You’d think that reading between the lines is hard enough work, until you now have to master the art of infusing meaning between the lines for others to read. Showmanship. You never knew it would be something that you needed to practice on a daily basis. But just like you need to signal well before you come to the intersection of your turn, less you want people to come crashing into your back fender, the same is true in real life, especially in the workplace.
People spend less than 8 hours a day with you. They come and go, breezing in and out. They say how’s it going when you cross paths on your way to the john and in hallways or in random meetings, never really expecting a full-on, packed-down, straight-talk answer from you. They don’t know you nor do they have the time to. They are looking for heuristics to help them make the necessary assessments of you. To decide if you’re a valuable asset to discuss high-level strategies with or just another insufferable Gen Y who thinks she’s too much of rock star for passé boomers to actually appreciate.
So wear your buttoned-down shirts and iron your dress pants and get into work at 8:30 even though technically you have work flex. Smile and nod and say how do you do in the hallways to random passersby and thank you’s to coworkers in the next cubicle and the next all the way to the far ends on the floor. Make it to all your meetings on time and print out handouts beforehand. Strain to keep your eyes open even when all you really want to do is just close ‘em and pass out because you’re not comprehending a single word that is coming out of Logistics and Ops. And they go on and on. And on. On plant trials and variables and formulas and pallets and packaging and films. Stay awake. Especially in divisional meetings and when you’re sitting next to your workaholic manager. Ask questions and stay interested and take notes. Never, never leave until your eighth hour is up. And lose the headphones. That’s what’s fast-tracking you down the Boulevard of Insufferable-Gen-Ys.
You’re not puckering up. You’re not forfeiting little pieces of what makes you you. You’re acculturating. You’re signaling. You’re surviving. And hopefully, you’re succeeding.
留言列表
