The Inconvenience of Caring

Whilst much the news today argues against it, I tend to think most people are caring. Yet why is the world filled with intolerance? I believe this comes down to our relative “Inconvenience of caring”.

I’ll explain what I mean using personal examples, and one that is more business oriented. In writing this post I step away from blame and judgement as they’re unproductive, unhelpful. Instead, I invite you to investigate less obvious instances of resisting our fundamental urge to care. The question is what we can do to take action.

For me, our attitude to caring is situational and is a numbers game. We can make a difference by small adjustments to our attitudes and behaviours that don’t require us to envisage wholesale reinvention of ourselves.

My altruism has limits

I donate to several charities including the YMCA, I contribute each month to support young people find safe accommodation. I feel good about this and wish these kids the best. I also admire the people who work at the sharp end supporting them. Why then do I not volunteer? Because it is inconvenient for me to do so. I don’t have enough altruistic energy to surmount some unconscious invisible barrier. In chemistry this is called the activation energy of a reaction. Sometimes a little energy is added to make two compounds react, sometimes lots is required. In the latter case, a third compound, a catalyst, can reduce the activation energy. More of catalysts later.

I don’t consider myself to be thoughtless but clearly there are limits to what I’m prepared to do for other people less fortunate than me. I’ve reflected on why I can’t muster sufficient motivation.

Here’s an extract from my memoir, “Demons to Champions – How I fell in love with my neurodivergent maverick mind.” It will explain a bit more. I should preface it by telling you that the chapter is called “Unwitting gifts” and describes my conversations with a homeless man, who for years, lived most of his life on a bench by the side of the river Thames. I should also say that my internal monologue is in italics, as is the ‘conversation” with my internal saboteur, ‘The Judge’.

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I have a friend. Well, I say, friend, he’s a guy I meet every so often when I take a walk along the Thames towpath near East Molesey. Most of the year he lives on and around a wooden bench overlooking Molesey lock. He spends his time playing chess with passers-by and having conversations with anyone who will give him the time of day. He watches the world go by, thinks and sleeps.

There was a time when I would’ve walked past him. I’d become hardened by the hundreds of beggars; I’d encountered on London’s streets. Never giving them money, I’d move on past, uncomfortable when I saw them away in the distance. Uneasy at my inability to make a difference to their lives, the Judge had worked hard to drive a wedge between me and these unfortunate people. “You know they sit here all day looking forlorn, taking people’s money. Picked up in Jaguars at the end of the day. Do not let them take you down to their level. Do not let them in. You cannot face their pain. You do not dare live as they do. Block them out. Move on!”

Ashamed and guilty as I walked past them. I’d think to myself, “But I’m a good person, I should do something.” I couldn’t summon up the courage to engage with them, afraid of being dragged into their world. Afraid of being them, knowing nothing about them. Scared by my ignorance.

One day, in the Summer of 2018, I overcame my discomfort and learned something about the man by the river. I stopped by his bench. He sat with his legs covered by a bright yellow blanket.

I asked him, “How’s your day going?”

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Since that first conversation, I’ve been rewarded by many interesting, and to a degree, life changing discussions. What nudged me towards overcoming my reticence? It’s not because one day I woke up a better version of myself. It was because the day before, I had finished another chapter called “Parental Osmosis”, where I recalled how my parents had influenced me and created my ethical and moral foundation. They were my catalyst; reassurance that I would have enough energy to care.

Fear gets in the way of caring?

In a chaotic, and apparently less caring, world it is easy to be seduced by awful events and people. Nevertheless, I’m convinced that most people are good, it’s their actions and behaviours that are bad. What then causes people to behave less well than they could do?

First, comes fear. The extremes of human behaviour all come from deep-seated primeval fear and resulting anger. Thankfully, Nature has also provided us with compassion and altruism. Most of the time we achieve a balance with compassion opposing anger. I’ve no solution for the conundrum of individual fear, but I do have a route to obviating at least some institutional fear and lack of care. I’d like to take the example of discrimination of neurodivergent people in the workplace as my second example.

Is it too 'Woke" to mention inclusion?

It appears that efforts to reduce discrimination and enhance inclusion, have become politically less popular in certain places. I’m not going to engage in that global political discussion. Instead, I want to focus on the tangible benefits of a neuroinclusive culture to organisations. By this I mean, organisations that need revenue, whether they be for profit or not. I use the example of a for-profit company below.

At the outset it is self-evident to me that inclusion is a moral and ethical imperative. That alone will not sway a hard-pushed business leader who has the shareholders’ and the Board of Directors’ boots on the back of their necks, demanding bigger profits. I would that it was different, but clearly the moral argument alone is insufficient. We must play them at their own commercial game. What will attract their attention enough to make changes.

The great Executive Coach Marshall Goldsmith says, “What got you here will not get you there.” By this he meant, the habitual thinking and behaviours of businesses allows them to reach a certain level, but no more. In the end, doing more of the same thing (Think of Einstein) will inevitably yield the same results. You end up competing with other companies doing the same things.

Getting off the "Merry go round"

How then can you escape the merry go round? By incorporating different, neurodivergent, thinking. Why are so many companies loath to really go the full nine yards? I say, It's the inconvenience of caring enough. This brings me back to primitive hard wired neurotypical behaviour.

You won’t have heard of the expression “Unconscious Dissing” because I just coined it. What I mean by this are the reactions of neurotypical people when they have to interact with neurodivergent people (e.g. ADHD or autistic). You will have read of the usual tropes, “It’s weird when they don’t look in my eyes.” “They won’t stop talking.” “They’re full of ideas but never finish things.” “I don’t know what it is, but they make me feel uneasy.” “They don’t have any sympathy.” “They’re always off in their own little worlds.” “They don’t mix socially.”

So here we are, and my reaction to these comments is, YES, WE ARE DIFFERENT – GET OVER YOURSELVES.

Tangible benefIt’s of caring enough

It's all well and good me griping about intolerance but why should any person or organisation change there ways; make accommodations. My answer to a business is, “I thought you liked profit.”?Any decent analysis of companies that manage to hold on financially, or those that fail, comes down to simple facts. They don’t take in enough money, they bleed money, or it’s a combination of both.

There are many reasons this might happen but often the causes are a lack of innovation combined with opaque complex mistakes or omissions in processes. Oh, and power plays and petty aggressions.

Neurodivergent Innovation and dedication to the cause

Neurotypical brains are generally ill-equipped for blue-sky innovation or deep forensic analysis. Mainstream society makes the same mistakes repeatedly and doesn't seem table to avoid the traps.

ADHD brains on the other hand, are innately creative. Autistic minds see the finest details of processes and identify solutions. Of course. I’m generalising but you get the point. Why then are so few organisations changing the way they recruit and support neurodivergent people?

My suggestion is the rest of them are insufficiently worried by their problems or won’t put their necks out to grasp left-field innovation. Caring is too inconvenient for them to gather the courage required to grasp the neurodivergent nettle. They need a catalyst.

A universal "Catalyst"

Alone, I don’t have the capability or bandwidth to search for and validate a solution. There's already a mountain of data-driven evidence that diversity in capability and skills always outperforms groupthink and cultural monocultures.

For those active in this arena I propose a study to identify and codify those catalyst moments that trigger great innovating organisations to put their money into the weirdo’s, the eccentric geniuses, and “out there” thinkers. If this “Catalytic Converter” can be codified, we will have a “Cheat Sheet’ for the inherent benefits of neuroinclusion relevant to any organisation.

Remember, discrimination is based on a fear that “other” people will take away our “cheese”. The antidote is to bring crackers and wine to the party! As long as it’s not too crowded and noisy that is!