Hi Reader,

When I was 10 years old, my parents took us to Disney World in Orlando, which had just opened.

That first year, eager for publicity, Disney gave out press passes to the media, which meant my father, a journalist for a small town paper, got them. And these press passes allowed us to skip the long lines for all the exhibits and rides and go right up to the front.

So of course I was having a grand old time, feeling like a VIP, walking by all those people waiting in line in the hot sun. Until we showed up for one ride that didn’t accept press passes. We went to the back of the line and waited.

As we waited, I expressed my displeasure to my parents about this extreme and unfair hardship. To which I was told I had two choices: I could wait in line for the ride like everyone else, or if I didn’t like lines, I could wait in the car until the end of the day.

Power—even a small amount like a press pass—lets you skip the line.

With more wealth, you can catch an Uber rather than wait for the bus. With a promotion, you have more freedom to pick and choose the tasks and projects you want.

In other words, one of the perks of power is shortcuts. Sometimes they are deserved—the reward for working hard. Sometimes they are deliberate: giving you fewer obstacles and more autonomy to get things done and achieve your goals.

But some shortcuts, as in my case, bring out the worst in us. These behavioral shortcuts often result in ‘rank fouls,’ the minor misuses of power that are ethically dubious, undermine morale, and poison workplace culture. For instance,

• You can get away with not responding to an email without penalty.
• You can show up late to meetings, even the ones you scheduled.
• You can interrupt others when they speak—no reason to wait for them to finish.
• You can yell, get angry or annoyed, and let your emotions run free.

These behavioral shortcuts don’t just create discomfort and inconvenience for others, they are also addictive. The more you use them, the more you need them.

If people don't start the meeting until you arrive, why bother to show up on time?

If no one admonishes you for not responding to an email, why respond to any?

If losing your temper when frustrated carries no penalties, why spend all that energy controlling your emotions when letting it fly is so much easier?

Power provides shortcuts to hard problems.

But here’s the thing. The more we take advantage of those shortcuts, the more we reduce our ability to do hard things.

We avoid hard conversations, fire people indirectly, and dismiss other points of view such that it weakens our social skills and emotional intelligence.

Our ability to navigate discomfort has weakened. We aren’t exercising emotional muscles to self-regulate, soothe our anxiety, inhibit our reactions, or listen to competing points of view.

Instead, we can simply walk away, blame others, ignore conflicts, discredit others’ ideas, and vent our emotions.

A position of power is not the only thing that enables us to take shortcuts — many things can be shortcuts, diminishing our own abilities as we stroll down the path of least resistance and to the front of the line.

Feeling righteous, we can shout down and dismiss viewpoints we don’t want to hear.

Debunking your opponent is waaay easier than articulating what you stand for.

Our decision might not pan out, but we can blame bad luck or outer circumstances rather than update our mental models.

Venting to a friend about someone who buys into our story makes us feel good and it’s easier than developing the tools to deal with conflict directly.

Going along with the tribe is easier than developing your own opinions, and risking exclusion or rejection.

Hard things are hard. And the payoff for doing things the hard way is often invisible, intangible, and off in the future.

Whenever we offload responsibility or shirk the hard work of thinking, facing something difficult, or sitting in discomfort, we miss an opportunity for growth.

​As Annie Duke says in her conversation with Shane Parrish, Getting Better By Being Wrong, when we take the shortcut, we don't have to update our identity, examine our beliefs, or consider our poor choices.

Shortcuts are easy. Disney World was a lot easier when I could skip the line. But the ride itself wasn’t any more enjoyable whether I waited or not.

In truth, there’s a lot more satisfaction in dealing directly with a conflict than just venting to a friend. We feel better when we find the reason something didn’t work out, rather than just blaming luck.

The easy way is not always the right way. Or even the best way. Sometimes we have to push through resistance. Allow ourselves to be wrong. And at times even fail.

Adversity is an indispensable ingredient in our personal development. Especially as we climb in rank and are afforded more opportunities to take the shortcut, we should stop and consider the ramifications of skipping the line not only on others but also, especially, on ourselves.

Thanks for reading.

-- Julie

P.S. Power is a tricky business. And the more of it you have, the more difficult it can be to check. So if you've ever wished there was a "playbook for power," I encourage you to check out my book, Power: A User's Guide.​

“Power: A User’s Guide is enormously helpful both to those in positions of power and those who wish to be. I highly recommend it!” – Marshall Goldsmith, A Thinkers 50 Top Ten Global Business Thinker and New York Times #1 bestselling author of Triggers

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