Humans Hate Change
We tend to equate comfort with familiarity. We’re fine with a little novelty--something new, something different, something to break up the monotony of the day. But when it comes to big changes, the kind that shake our world and crack our foundations, we scramble to find a familiar refuge where we can safely hide. And really, you can’t blame us--it’s just the way we’re wired.
Our brains are exquisitely tuned to detect change. Have you ever walked into a room in your home where one small item--a lamp or a chair--is out of place? Your eye is drawn to it immediately. Or have you ever noticed a tiny movement at the edge of your vision when everything else was still? Our ancestors developed this vigilance to separate familiar from new. The routine stuff, since it hadn’t killed us yet, was probably safe. Newness, on the other hand, was a potential threat, and it required immediate attention. We evolved the ability to notice the smallest changes in our environment, because our survival depended on it.
But in order to detect small changes, we need to carry a blueprint in our minds of what “normal” looks like. When big changes are happening, that blueprint is meaningless, and our brains try to focus on everything at once. It requires tremendous energy to navigate rapid change, and it’s a recipe for anxiety and stress.
In my career, as a physician and a coach, people often come to me at a moment of big, convulsive change. Sometimes it’s unavoidable--thrust upon them by events beyond their control. Over the years, though, I’ve noticed that even tumultuous change can be part of the natural rhythm of our lives. Life proceeds in phases, each marked by a different set of challenges and a different kind of growth. When one phase is ending and another begins, there is often a moment of rapid change that rocks our world. The way we deal with those turning points (or attempt to ignore them) decides the trajectory of our lives from that moment forward.
In his book Think Again, Adam Grant makes the case that change, in our modern age, is no longer the exception--it’s the new norm. More importantly, it’s not a defect, it’s an opportunity. But to take full advantage of that opportunity, we need a new kind of intelligence. No longer can we rely on old modes of thinking and learning. We need to develop the skills of unlearning and re-thinking, and for many of us, that requires a lot more uncertainty and humility than we’re used to. It’s unfamiliar and scary. We don’t like that.
