Many of us in the music business, at one time or another, have been inflicted with the cognitive bias known as the illusion of control--a term coined by Harvard professor and clinical psychologist Ellen Langer. Simply put, this is when people overestimate
the control they have over events in their lives. I've seen this cognitive bias in
musicians, music educators, and particularly in music industry people like producers
and A & R reps. Sometimes it works for us, sometimes it works against us. But rest assured it's there affecting our everyday lives.
Illusion of Control Scenarios
To give you better idea of the illusion of control, here are
a few examples:
Let's say you are an A & R rep at a record label--even though
they barely exist anymore--and you signed a band that hit it big and made
millions of dollars for the label. The illusion of control is you thinking that
you and your "magical" formula for picking bands are the direct cause of the band’s success--which is often not the case. You
may have entered them into the race, but why they crossed the finish line far ahead of the others is far beyond your control. If in fact you knew which bands were going to hit
it big, you’d be the richest and most sought after person on the planet. But
the fact of the matter is that you have no idea. The hypothetical band that you
signed who hit it big, did so mostly due to luck. They just happened to be the
right people, at the right place, and the right time.
A non-musical example of the illusion of control is winning
the lottery. People who win lotteries often think they know how to
pick lucky numbers. Many of them have some wacky system or ritual that means
absolutely nothing (i.e. claiming to play numbers only from birthdates of
family members, or playing various combinations of their phone number and zip
code). Which as I mentioned earlier means nothing, since the selection of
lottery numbers are totally random. Having a three-year old pick random numbers
out of a box of sand is as likely to produce a winning lottery ticket as using
numbers from birthdays and zip codes.
Studies performed by Langer showed that people who roll dice at the craps table tend to throw the dice harder if the want higher numbers and softer if they want lower numbers, as if that would make any difference. This is something that Langer defines as "skill cues."
As performers, ninety-nine percent of us are probably guilty of this. How many times have you stood on your tippy toes to hit those high notes, or bent your knees to honk out the low tones? As though being closer to the ground will actually help you play lower.
Even in the context of carving out a career as a jazz
musician, I’ve seen the illusion of control in successful players who think
that they know exactly why they became successful. I’ll hear theories from how
they know how to put together a great band, how to spot
trends, or know the right hands to shake. I do understand the importance
of these aforementioned things. However, a lot of skilled musicians know how to
put together great bands, spot trends, and have great social and political
skills; yet, these things still don’t automatically translate into a successful
career.
And of course, there's something to be said for continuing to try and keeping it at. But let's be clear, this is not control. This creates possibilities, not outcomes--something I will address a little later.
A Story of Randomness
Years ago I had a band called Global Unity who got signed to Columbia/Sony—albeit our tenure with the label was short lived, but that’s another blog post. The way that this happened was totally random.
The short of the story is this: One
day I decided to self-produced an album length recording of my band (this was
before that kind of thing was popular, mind you) and after it was completed I played it for my friend Lisa. I told her that I was looking to shop the recording to various labels and she suggested that I give a copy to a booking agent friend
of hers who was looking to get into artist management. After I agreed, she set
the ball in motion by not only telling him about the recording, but actually taking it to his apartment and sitting down and listening to it with him. One of the reasons he agreed to their meeting was because he’d remember hearing us a few months earlier at some small club in
the East Village. And apparently, really liked the group.
So here is where randomness played
a role.
Right before our performance at this East Village club, I realized that I'd left some of my sheet music at home. Since the club did not have a copy machine, I went to a photocopy
shop a few blocks from the venue. On the way back, I bumped into him and his
then fiancée as they were walking up the street. They were just about to go to
dinner, so I gave them a flyer and told them that the venue where I was playing was only a few blocks from the restaurant. So they took the flyer and assured
me that they would stop by after they’d eaten dinner. Sure enough they did. And
lucky for us, we performed a really good set. We were well-rehearsed and everyone was
having a good night. Keep in mind that this was a period where if you wanted to
have a relationship with a record company, you had to either invite someone
from the label to one of your performances. or someone who would be willing to advocate on your behalf. This was pre-check-out-our-band-on-YouTube days.
Back to my point about
randomness. Prior to this gig, I had
made numerous unsuccessful attempts to get this agent out to one of my
performances. However, just by chance, he happened to be in the neighborhood on
this particular night that I was playing. And lo and behold, several months
later I was able to reap the benefits of that random encounter.
After I had gotten my record
contract, I could have come up with numerous pat-myself-on-the-back theories on
why things went in my favor. But the fact of the matter is that I just happened
to be at the right place at the right time--not to mention some good advocating on behalf from my friend Lisa. The music has to be good; that's a given. However, the fact that I have not been able to create any music remotely interesting to any label--large and small--is proof that this situation was in fact random. And in my own defense, maybe if I cared about that sort of thing a
little more I might have been able to conjure some interests. The fact of the matter is that that sort or thing—shopping to labels and trying to get people to
represent me—is of little interest. I’m much more interested in documenting my
work these days. I’ll worry more about career advancement when the time is
right.
The Negative Aspect of the Illusion of Control
Moving away from my getting-signed story for moment: Another point I’d like to make is that the
illusion of control clouds our ability to access our situation.
Studies have shown that the more powerful a person feels, the stronger the
illusion of control becomes. I’ve seen this demonstrated in prominent jazz
musicians who’ve surrounded themselves with sidemen who were not on their
level--frankly, musicians whom many considered to be very mediocre. But because
of the feeling of control and authority that comes with being a prominent
person in this business, you can come to exist in a bubble, since you are no
longer open to the criticism and assessment endured by everyday, less prominent
players. And this is very common amongst people in leadership positions: CEOs
of major corporations, presidents of universities, and pastors of churches.
These figures of authority often get caught up in their own illusions of control, while everyone
else around them are able to so clearly see the obstacles halting their progress.
The Positive Aspect of the Illusion of Control
I’d like to point out that the
illusion of control isn’t all negative. The truth is that it makes us strive for things
even when our chances of achieving them are very low. Think about how many
times we’ve tried to get our bands booked on festivals as an unknown. The
illusion of control made us feel that we could influence the booker’s
decision by having a well-written cover letter, a slick looking band photo, and, of course, a well-recorded, well-performed CD.. These things do help, but
ultimately, the booker of the festival makes his or her decision independent of
what you think your influence is. If you are lucky, your packet will be the very
thing they’re looking for at that particular time.
Point and case is when I got my
deal with Columbia/Sony, it just so happened that the new regime at the label
were looking for something more world music oriented. And voilà! My demo, Global Unity
comes across their desk. The timing could not have been more perfect. But the
bigger point to be learned from my scenario and many others like it, is that
even though you ultimately don’t have the final say (or control), the illusion
of control does at least give you the confidence to try.
Things You Can Control
The last issue I'd like to discuss is the illusion of
futility, which is the opposite of the illusion of control. This is when you
fail to recognize how much control or influence you actually have over a
particular situation. For example, you
may fail to realize how being difficult decreases
your chances of employment. Or how practicing correctly makes you play more
consistently. Or how just being visible increases your chances of being hired,
in general. These are things we take for granted; however, these are things which we can control that can make a big difference.
In summary, if you want to do well in the music business, prepare, prepare, prepare. Or better yet, try,
try, try. Ultimately, you don't have direct control over final outcomes; however,
you can increase the likelihood of luck going in your favor. These are the rules of the game. Now our job
is to learn how to play it.
