Dan Ariely, James B. Duke professor of psychology and behavioral economics, is known for his research on rational and irrational decision making. His new book “Payoff: The Hidden Logic That Shapes Our Motivations” investigates the root of motivation. The Chronicle's Rob Palmisano spoke with Ariely to discuss his research.
The Chronicle: Why did you feel the need to share these particular insights in "Payoff" with the rest of the world?
Dan Ariely: As I write in the introduction, I find myself doing lots of things that are very painful—talking to people with injuries, doing projects in Africa, all kinds of things, and I’m deeply motivated by those things, but not by what you would call "happiness." Nevertheless, I feel incredible fulfillment in trying to help, and I started thinking that our model of happiness is kind of wrong—that we think of "momentary happiness" as what motivates us, to sit on the beach drinking mojitos, when in fact, the things that truly motivate us are very different in nature. One particularly difficult experience revealed to me that I wanted people to think more deeply about this, so that is one part. The second part is that we all try to motivate. We try to motivate ourselves, we try to motivate other people and by not actually thinking carefully about what motivates people, we are not doing a good job with it.
TC: What is one aspect of motivation the average reader of this book is unlikely to have ever considered before?
DA: I think the most surprising thing from research on motivation is that financial motivation sometimes is not only ineffective, but it sometimes decreases motivation. I think that may be the most extreme one.
TC: Who do you believe will benefit the most from reading "Payoff"?
DA: Because we all try to motivate ourselves, the people around us, the people who work for us, with us, it’s kind of a book for everybody. [The book] may be even more important for those who directly try to motivate others, but I also think it’s really a book about social science, like my other books. It’s a book that helps us understand and reveal the wonders and the mysteries of our daily life. I think we usually think that the big mysteries of life are in the stars, or in molecular biology, but they are within our own lives and how we conduct them. So being able to have a lens of how to reflect on our own lives, I think, is important for everybody.
TC: What is the most challenging part about translating research findings and experimental insights into nonfiction?
DA: I think it’s figuring out the balance between describing the experiments and describing stories that are related to or shed some light upon them. And a second thing is that I personally write a lot about my own life, which I know is a little bit obnoxious, or could be seen that way. But I use my own life, my own experiences, as a starting point—I write about science not as a great scientist looking at the world and coming up with these great observations, but describing my own challenges and failings and so on. And I’ve tried to figure out how much to write about my own failings and contemplation versus how much to write about the science, which is another interesting trade-off. It’s much easier, of course, to write in a little bit more detached way about the science, but how much to bring myself into it is something I think about.
TC: How do you think your writing has evolved since the time you released your first book?
DA: I think I’ve gotten better. I think I’ve gotten more natural in writing. But I still think that I write basically in the way that I talk.
TC: What inspires you to continue to write?
DA: I’m enjoying it, and actually, I feel that I have a discussion with the readers. At some point after "Predictably Irrational" came out, I sat next to a woman on a flight who was very happy to see me because she read "Predictably Irrational," and she told me that she was a diabetic patient who was debating whether to install an insulin pump or not. And she said in her mind, she asked me, "what do I think?" and she had a discussion with her version of me, and I recommended to her that she install the insulin pump, and she did it. So we talked it over during the flight, and I said I agreed. But it gave me a sense that there are people who read and think and respond, and every time I write, I get a sense that it is a dialogue. I’m not writing in a vacuum. People write back. People sometimes say "thank you," sometimes they say they’d have done things differently, they have other ideas, they disagree with me, but it does feel like a dialogue, which is tremendous fun.
TC: What is something that motivates you in your everyday endeavors?
DA: I have this equation in mind of helping. And my equation is, “How many people do we help and by how much?” So I multiply the number of people by how much, and that’s kind of the weight of the contribution, of how much we are helping the world. And I aim for that number. I try to either help lots of people in small ways or a few people in big ways. Last month I was in Israel for a project, I was in Africa for a project, I did something in Holland, Ireland, then of course a few places in the U.S., and I basically think about all of the ways that social science can be useful and helpful and how we can do more of this.
TC: Is there any advice you would offer those aspiring to find the missing motivation they need to accomplish their own goals?
DA: I’ve realized that the people who look for the big meaning in life—curing cancer, saving the world—that’s just very tough. Some people are able to do it, but it’s very tough. What is more achievable is to break the overarching goals into smaller parts. Lots of people with injuries write to me or want to talk with me. And some of the most successful quadriplegics I’ve talked to take pride in being able to empty their urine bladder, or being able to get dressed by themselves, all kinds of small things like that, and I think that defining smaller victories—not wanting to “finish a book” right away—and declaring the victories when we do the small things is a very important key.
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