What’s the Worst That Could Happen?

It’s rarely as dire as we imagine

When I was approaching sixteen, it was still important, and even “cool,” to get your driver’s license as soon as possible. In my case, it was extra important, since we were about to move, and I’d need to drive to continue going to the same high school.

No pressure.

Looking back, I’m surprised by the approach I took. It’s an approach that has served me well throughout life.

The day of the driving test I simply told myself, “what’s the worst that could happen?” The worst, I figured, was that I’d fail, and need to repeat the test the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and so on, all while having a friend drive me to school.

I passed on the first try, with parallel parking being my only big fail. I got my license the same day and began driving myself to school the next.

Taking a “what’s the worst that can happen” attitude allowed me to relax in a way that I otherwise would not have been able to. Given what I was doing, and how important it actually was, I’m certain in contributed to my success.

Many people view the view consequences of failure with unrealistically negative expectations. Sometimes the expectations or assumptions are so negative they either contribute to the failure as undue anxiety, or they prevent the individual from even trying. That’s a shame, particularly when those perceptions are so out of proportion to practical reality.

Consider my driver’s test.

In reality, the “worst that could happen” is quite horrific, involving things like complete loss of control, blood, screaming, tears, and even death. I had enough confidence in myself to know that wasn’t a realistically possible outcome. (Honestly, I don’t believe the thought ever occurred.) Had I been that concerned though, it’s likely to have made me a nervous wreck, and lead to a (less catastrophic) failure.

I used this “what’s the worst that could happen” technique years later, but in a completely different sense.

I was working for a small company in Seattle. In fact, they were small and getting smaller. (Not my fault!) They were 25 when I joined, and were down to five. There were three of us in the “software department” when I started, and I was that department when I left.

Seeing the progression, I responded to an ad in the local paper for a company called “Microsoft”. They were a little over 300 employees strong at the time.

The problem, though, is I’m a loyal puppy. Leaving my job, even though the company was clearly in decline, wasn’t the simple decision it might appear.

So, the sequence went like this:

• I sent them a letter and resume, thinking “what’s the worst that could happen? They might respond.”
• They responded, asking for more information. I sent it thinking “what’s the worst that could happen? They might ask for more.”
• They responded, with an interview schedule. I went and interviewed, thinking “what’s the worst that could happen? They might offer me a job.”
• They responded by asking me back for another round of interviews. I went and interviewed again, with the thought, again, that “the worst that could happen” is that they might offer me a job.
• The worst happened. They offered me a job.

The “trick” is the normal approach would have treated failing the interviews or any part of the process as “the worst that could happen”.  You look for a job, and the worst would be you don’t get the job.

For me it wasn’t. If that happened — if I didn’t get the job — then I didn’t need to decide. Yay?

The worst that could happen, for me, was that I would need to decide and leave my current position. (In hindsight, of course, I’m surprised I hesitated at all.)

It was, again, a useful approach — a mental model, I suppose — that allowed me to take a different perspective to what I was doing. Failure was always an option, but the cost of failure, which I’ve written about before, was low enough that I could remove much of the pressure involved in whatever I was attempting.

Failure is a powerful tool. Not only in the lessons learned sense, but as something important to consider for any endeavor.

What’s the worst that can happen?

More often than not, it’s something that isn’t nearly as bad as you might think.

FWIW: I still suck at parallel parking. Oh well.