Articles

Sunny side down

Gabrielle Lis

Is it possible to have too much optimism? And what's the best approach to take when you're confronted by someone else's pessimism?

In part one of this two part series, we introduced you to the sunny side of optimism. We explored the uses of optimism in professional life, with a focus on using optimism to improve health and return to work outcomes.

But here’s the rub. Prolonged pressure and stress—such as the pressure and stress associated with the workers’ compensation system—tends to feed pessimism rather than optimism. And coping with other people’s pessimism can be difficult.

It’s unlikely that the workers who most need your help will be skipping down the sunny side of the street. They might not see return to work as a gateway to a fulfilling and financially-solvent future. They are unlikely to have good things to say about WorkCover, or whichever authority holds sway in your jurisdiction. They’ve probably had some bad experiences with the insurer, too. Their supervisor is out to get them. Their doctor doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And don’t get them started on YOU!   

Before you attempt to make rose-coloured glasses standard workplace wear, it is worth considering two things…

  1. Is boundless optimism always the most appropriate attitude?
  2. What are effective methods for increasing optimism when someone is facing genuinely difficult circumstances?

Optimism certainly has its uses, but it can also be abused.

How? Let’s digress.

You’d be hard pressed to find a more optimistic man than Robert C.W. Ettinger. More than forty years ago Ettinger, now in his early nineties, founded the Cryonics Institute, an organisation that pits the human ingenuity of the future against one of humanity’s most persistent foes: death.  Located in Michigan—a geologically sound US state and also the birthplace of the refrigerator—Ettinger’s Cryonics Institute offers just one service: freezing people after they die in expectation that medical and technological advances will soon allow for life after death.  

As Ettinger himself has acknowledged, “anyone wanting to resurrect and rejuvenate the dead must complete four tasks: cure the person of what killed her, reverse the decay that set in between death and freezing, repair the damage done by the freezing itself, and make her young again.” Despite this tall order, in 1964 Ettinger was optimistic enough to predict that “Before long the objectors [to cryonics] will only include a handful of eccentrics.” Fast forward to 2010, and he at least is still a true believer.

Mainstream scientists, on the other hand, including those engaged in peer-reviewed experiments around the low-temperature storage of organ tissues, tend to be sceptical that cryonics will ever deliver on its promises of immortality. The consensus seems to be that when you defrost a frozen human you end up with mush, and that the scientists of the future are unlikely to be able to find a way around this problem.

That Ettinger has been able to convince anyone that his haphazardly run facility is a good place to await “reanimation” is a testament to the infectious, make-things-happen qualities of optimism.

But there is a cost. Ettinger’s customers pay US $1250 upfront, with an additional US $28 000 due when they actually undergo the big chill. They themselves have little to lose at this point, but since Ettinger encourages them to pay by making his organisation the beneficiary of their life-insurance policies, relatives and loved ones bear the burden indirectly. And the costs aren’t just financial. Some children (even grown up ones) are traumatised by the idea of Ma or Pa on ice, or worse, on mush.

On the bright side, Ettinger’s clients aren’t very likely to feel disillusioned when cryonics fails to deliver on its promises, since they’ll simply remain dead. For the rest of us, having an over-inflated sense of what can be achieved is often a motivational drain in the long run.

As a return to work professional, part of your job is to help people manage their expectations. Not everyone is going to be able to return to their pre-injury duties. Not everyone is going to be able to take on an unfair system and win. Not everyone is going to be able to return to work in a jiffy. It is important to recognise such limits, and then work for the best possible outcome within them.

In fact, motivation is at its highest when a person slightly—but not wildly—overestimates their capacity to do something.

According to Mentalhelp.net, durable optimism entails:

  • Knowing when to try to change a situation, and when to accept it instead;
  • Becoming courageous enough to make the changes you can make to improve your life; and
  • Learning how to manage your emotional reactions so that when you are faced with a difficult situation you cannot change, you are able to put the best possible face on that situation.

Do what you can to encourage durable optimism in claimants. In some circumstances, the best way to go about this might be by referring them on to the Employee Assistance Program, or other psychological support.

Bear in mind, however, that there will be some situations that you will not be able to exert a positive influence on. Outside influences certainly make a difference, but to a large extent people are responsible for their own recovery. If someone doesn’t want to help themselves, or accept your help, letting go as gracefully as you can may be your best move.

Another potential abuse of optimism is the insistence that an individual “thinks positive”, right now, regardless of the difficulties they are experiencing.

Mentalhelp.net advises that, when you’re talking with someone suffering from depression, or someone whose future looks grim, you need to acknowledge the difficulties that they are facing (or perceive themselves to be facing) before you begin talking about options and solutions.

Simple statements can be of use, such as:

  • “That sounds really difficult.”
  • “I’m sorry to hear you’re feeling so bad.”
  • “What else has been difficult for you?”

When someone feels that their concerns and feelings have been taken into account, they are more likely to be receptive to a positive vision for the future.

Under difficult circumstances, empathy and realism, not rose-tinted glasses, are optimism’s true allies.

The information about Robert C.W. Ettinger and his Cryonics Institute is taken from an article by Jill Lepore, “The Iceman,” published in The New Yorker, Jan 25, 2010.