Persistence: such a positive word, nicely aligned with others such as resilience and self-confidence. All positives. But what do you think when you hear the word obstinacy? It conveys an edgy, tiresome quality. Perhaps someone who stops others doing what they want or ignoring what is good for them. Yet, in reality, they are two sides of the same coin.<\/p>\n
As my last post<\/a> indicated, my most recent talk has been on the subject of my \u2018leadership journey\u2019. It\u2019s not the first time I\u2019ve talked about how my career panned out, although the audiences vary. I well recall being asked \u2013 in Sydney to, somewhat bizarrely, a group of women lawyers \u2013 what had got me through the tough times. And, without thinking very hard about my choice of word, I described myself as obstinate. I felt that, at a time when good friends as well as those less supportive, were questioning either (or both) of my choice of research topic and university, it was obstinacy that got me through. I was determined not to let others choose what or where I did my rather unconventional research. (I was researching food physics and the interface with biology at a time when that was regarded as beyond the pale by my more conventional colleagues in Physics, who were inclined to stick with less messy materials that they thought were appropriate for a physicist). I stuck to my guns and am amused to see that these days, for instance, the Institute of Physics has a Food Physics group<\/a> \u2013 so it must be respectable now. I flatter myself by thinking that I was just ahead of the game.<\/p>\n However, to call that persistence feels not quite right, although I clearly was persistent. I think obstinate is the more appropriate word, because I was ignoring all those wise heads around me who could either not see the point of what I was doing (the more hostile ones) or felt that I was hurting myself \u2013 and possibly my PhD students \u2013 by sticking with something that was causing me grief (my friends who knew I was finding the going tough).<\/p>\n Nevertheless, persistence is a virtue, whether or not you consider obstinacy is. The challenge is knowing when just a little bit more persistence will pay off, and when you should cut your losses if an experiment is not working or you can\u2019t get the accuracy you need or…any of the hundred other things that can go wrong in the lab. There is no simple answer to that.<\/p>\n What about red lines? When should you feel this is a point beyond which you will not go, versus when should you persist (and we needn\u2019t consider Theresa May\u2019s red lines in this context)? You can set red lines in advance: perhaps to say I won\u2019t spend more than six more months doing experiments before I write up my PhD or I won\u2019t spend more than an additional sum of \u00a3X on reagents before I give up this approach. But the time I most remember setting red lines in advance was before a meeting with the head of department and a professor who was trying to lay claim to space (essentially both mental and literal) that impacted on what I was doing. I was no junior researcher by this point, but already an FRS, but the other professor was the new \u2018kid\u2019 on the block (also an FRS) and people were falling over themselves to accommodate him. I knew this would be a hard battle to win and being obstinate in this situation would not lead to a good outcome. So, I worked out very clearly in advance what I would concede, so that I could hold on to what was most precious to me. I also made sure I took a bottle of water with me so that, when my mouth turned dry as sawdust, as I knew it would, I was prepared.<\/p>\n Those red lines were very useful to me, and probably allowed me to come out of the meeting with the best outcome I could have hoped for under the trying circumstances. It taught me the importance of not going in feet first. This latter is a phrase I have used to describe an earlier style of \u2018leadership\u2019 of mine, which I learned to shed: when someone or some system is awry, just going in all guns blazing will likely get you enemies and not the desired change. It pays to think about framing of your arguments, and \u2013 as in my example above \u2013 what you imagine to be other people\u2019s red lines or viable concessions, as well as your own. Playing the long game of persuasion is generally much more successful than a short, sharp blaze of righteous indignation.<\/p>\n I am reminded of this, not just because of the \u2018leadership journey\u2019 talk, but because of ongoing situations I\u2019m involved with beyond academia, where it is clear to me how much taking your time to bring people around is more likely to be fruitful than just getting cross with any protagonist. I may not rigidly be setting red lines, but I am definitely consciously thinking where I am not prepared to go\/lose ground\/ or give up on. This looks much more like persistence than obstinacy to me, and I hope to the protagonists with whom I am engaging. Mentally I know the difference, and it probably behoves others to do so too.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Persistence: such a positive word, nicely aligned with others such as resilience and self-confidence. All positives. But what do you think when you hear the word obstinacy? It conveys an edgy, tiresome quality. Perhaps someone who stops others doing what … Continue reading