In this day and age, with the growing prevalence of AI, we all are expected to be more productive. The pressure is mounting—but don’t give up. Let this book be your guide on the path to becoming invincible ✌️
Absorbing data in a prescribed way has its own merit—but nothing more. No new learning occurs.
If you want to get the most out of it, Duhigg suggests that you break it down, put it in a different light, and see a new shape or form through your own interpretation.
And innovation is largely influenced by how much attention you give, how deeply you think things through, and how open you are to experiments.
Last, molding data.
"When we encounter new information and want to learn from it,
we should force ourselves to do something with the data," Duhigg argues.
He’s only telling us to be Bayesian—comfortable with making forecasts,
choosing the best one, and adjusting the trajectory as new information comes in.
Next, innovation as derivation.
What we perceive as innovations are never born out of thin air—everything is derived from prior innovations.
Next, becoming comfortable with uncertainty.
"What matters is committing to odds that pay off in the long run," explains Duhigg. But is he telling us to gamble? Absolutely not.
Next, investing in subordinates.
You hire people slowly. And once you do, you invest in them, allowing autonomy and authority over the long term so that a sense of ownership, proactive attitudes, and trust within the organization develop.
It’s about “translating vague aspirations into concrete plans,” Duhigg rephrases.
However good you are regarding the previous points, if you don’t have a clear intention—or if it’s all over the place—you will never be productive.
By cultivating this tendency, you become more focused and prepared—
better equipped with answers, and ultimately more productive.
Next, goal setting.
Duhigg argues we need SMART (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic, Timeline) goals—originally formalized at GE—as well as stretch goals.
Next, focus—more like premeditated focus.
As I've mentioned multiple times before, we see what we are.
In other words, humans predict what they are about to understand
and narrate what’s happening before their eyes.
When a deviation occurs, we notice it and act accordingly.
Furthermore, if I'm not mistaken, it’s not necessarily about equal opportunity to speak and be heard; it’s about equity—ensuring everyone has what they need to participate fully, just like teachers adjust their approach for each student to bring everyone up to the same level.
Under such a team climate, new ideas and cooperation are nurtured.
It reflects a preference for collective intelligence and synergies over the sum of individual competence.
Psychological safety is “a sense of confidence that the team will not embarrass, reject, or punish someone for speaking up,”
according to Amy Edmondson.
Duhigg pushes further: "Once people turn self-directed choices into a habit, motivation becomes more automatic."
Next: team play—more precisely, "psychological safety."
You may wonder: what does it take to make choices—good choices? He argues it’s a purpose that helps you navigate to good choices. The act of asking "why?"—sometimes the most daunting task we will ever face—is essential. And we can rightfully assume: the bigger, the better.
"The first step in creating drive is giving people opportunities to make choices that provide them with a sense of autonomy and self-determination," Duhigg argues, and calls it "internal locus of control." And he does not forget to add that it's a learned skill.
This book sheds light on how some people manage to bring about change, why others fail, and what makes the difference.
First, we need motivation—an unshakable one.
That often leads us to feel-good, surface-level solutions. We soon realize that their scope is limited and that their effects are short-lived, and before long, we find ourselves back at square one.
Eventually, it dawns on us: the only path forward is to make fundamental changes.
The Duhigg trilogy. This is the last one I read—and once again, I enjoyed his work.
We all want to do more and achieve more, but with one caveat: without investing more time or effort. That often means avoiding the harder work—engaging with our inner selves and building from within.
March read ✅
If you are looking for a quick fix to boost your productivity, this book will not be for you. But for others, it will deliver real value.
Smarter Faster Better: The Secrets of Being Productive in Life and Business by Charles Duhigg
www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...
I now feel fortunate to be able to communicate in a language whose mimetic expressions so precisely can communicate—and sometimes even recreate—human emotions, states of mind, and the qualities of people, nature, and objects, enriching our lives while maintaining its brevity.
Not only that, mimetic expressions for smiling increasingly became a vehicle for conveying animosity toward one’s surroundings. Yamaguchi is a bit brief on this point, and why this development occurred remains a mystery to be explored.
The book also explores one more interesting mimetic expression: the smile. Mimetic expressions for smiling appear to have followed an ill-fated trajectory. Like laughter, smiles originally served to bring people together, but over time, the focus shifted from others to the self.
However, interestingly, as times became more peaceful, the original form of laughter was revived and continues, to some extent, even today. Shift from what we want to what we need—to operate as a human.
As a byproduct, laughter increasingly echoed war cries, transforming them in turn, and evolving itself in response. It became performative and synchronized, leaving very little trace of its original form.
Then came the Warring States periods. Laughter was used strategically—to conceal one’s current status, including financial, tactical, and psychological conditions, from opponents, and even to assert dominance over them. Its sound, volume, and outward breath changed drastically.
The book also explores how mimetic expressions for “laughing” changed over time. In the Nara and Heian periods, mimetic laughter was calm, modest, and contained, never overwhelming. It served as a way to harmonize with others rather than dominate or monopolize attention.
In modern times, where no one can afford to be oblivious to conflicts outside their domains and no peaceful future is guaranteed, and where a patriarchal system continues to serve as the only option, men are expected to suppress crying in the name of leadership, while women are expected to be led.
By contrast, from the Meiji period to the present, men not only refrain from crying out loud but often try to hide their crying. Women, recognizing the decreased optionality on the men’s side, may cry out “oi-oi” and shed tears “horohoro” to influence the trajectories of their circumstances.
In the Edo period, although peace had returned, society imposed collective responsibility, and both men and women were expected to cry out loud together to attract the sympathy of those around them.
By contrast, during the Kamakura/Muromachi periods, neither men nor women cried out. This reflects the fact that it was a time of warfare, when personal safety was paramount. People still cried, but silently; intense emotion was expressed through tears rather than vocal sounds.