By Will Carlin
In Homer’s poem “The Odyssey,” the hero is described as the most cunning and the strongest of men. His name was Odysseus, and after winning the epic battle of Troy, he is said to have incurred the wrath of Poseidon, the God of the Seas, by not giving the ocean ruler proper thanks for the victory.
On his trip home, Odysseus encounters numerous stumbling blocks put in his way by Poseidon. He was warned about one of them by the goddess Circe, who told Odysseus that his journey would take him by the island of the Sirens, sea nymphs whose enchanting songs lured sailors to shipwreck and death on the rocky shores of their island.
Circe tells Odysseus that the Sirens sing so beautifully that no man can resist them; indeed, common sense and sound judgment melt away in a rapturous yearning to join these incomparable creatures. Around the deadly beauties are “bones, of dead men rotting in a pile beside them.” Circe insists that the only chance for Odysseus to secure his own safety and that of his men would be to take radical safety measures: he must plug the ears of his sailors so they cannot hear the singing of the enchanters, and he must have his men tie him head and foot to the mast. Thus, during the passage, if Odysseus loses his senses his bonds will save him.
Despite all these precautions, Odysseus has no idea just how overpowering the temptation will be; while his men, their ears plugged with beeswax, row steadily by the island, Odysseus is bathed in the fullness of the Sirens’ song, intoned with flattery, promises of unspeakable delights, and knowledge that no other earthly creature possesses.
Desperate with desire, Odysseus strains against the ropes that tie him to the mast. Nearly consumed with yearning, he loses all sense and judgment. He begs his shipmates to untie him, to let him join the women. His men hear nothing, however, and the more Odysseus shrieks to be freed, the more tightly they tie the ropes around him. Gradually, they row away from the island and, eventually, away from the danger.
Odysseus was employing something that today is called a commitment device. In general, you use a commitment device to attempt to lock yourself into doing something that is hard but that produces a desired result. Think, for example, of weight loss.
As Stephen Dubner and Stephen Levitt wrote in a New York Times Magazine piece: “It is hard to think of anyone who employs commitment devices as avidly as the overweight American. Perhaps you once bought a yearlong gym membership or had a three-month supply of healthful meals delivered to your doorstep. Maybe you joined friends in a group diet or even taped your refrigerator shut.”
There now are websites that use the theory of commitment devices in order to help people set and achieve difficult goals. One of them, StickK.com, uses a form of the device called a “commitment contract.” It works like this:
First, you set a goal within a certain time frame. Let’s say that you want to be able to hit 25 consecutive drop shots to a target area without missing, and you want to be able to do this within two months.
You might decide to do this as a “one shot” goal—that is, you set up the practice sessions until you hit the deadline—or you might decide that in order to reach this goal, you will create an “on-going commitment” where you have to reach a target amount of practice every week until the contract ends.
Second, you choose your stakes: how much money you’re willing to risk, and where you want it to go, should you fail. So, if you committed to practice drop shots for 30 minutes three times a week, each week that you fail to practice the required time, you would have to pay (StickK is free, and you don’t have to choose financial stakes, though it theoretically works better if you do).
Third, you designate someone you know and trust to be your Referee. This person acts as an independent third party, monitoring your progress and verifying the accuracy of the reports you submit.
And finally, you get support from the community of other people trying to achieve their own goals. If you are Odysseus being tied to the stake, these supporters are the sailors with their ears plugged with wax.
Sounds pretty cool. The question is: does it work?
Many people use telling others about their goals or plans as a form of commitment device. In theory, this should work well, since announcing to everyone that you are going to lose ten pounds in the next few weeks should make you feel embarrassed if you look exactly the same three weeks later.
Before you take out a full-page ad in Squash Magazine announcing your intention to challenge Nick Matthew for world domination, however, you should know that it turns out that people who talk about their intentions are…less likely to make them happen.
In 1933, W. Mahler found that if a person announced the solution to a problem, and was acknowledged by others, it was now in the brain as a “social reality”, even if the solution hadn’t actually been achieved.
So, what is the answer? Well, they do work if you have no other choice (you could use the Odysseus approach and have yourself “bound” into a squash court until that drop shot starts to hit), and many people have succeeded with commitment contracts (it sort of depends on how valuable you find that money or how much pride you have in backing up your word).
But perhaps the best thing to do is consider that the next time you have a goal you want to achieve, think about keeping to yourself; it usually feels better to have actually done something before you brag about it.
