The ability to solve problems enriches our lives. Without challenges to tackle, we wouldn’t learn, grow, find happiness or gain wisdom. Yet many fear problems, pretend they don’t exist or dodge them hoping they’ll quietly disappear. Trivial problems sometimes do. As Charlie Brown once told Lucy, “Don’t worry … it’ll just go away.” But the big ones, left ignored, usually grow even bigger. Some problems aren’t ours to solve, though good-hearted souls often believe otherwise. Others arise from the disconnect between how things are and how we wish they were. Then there are those we simply don’t know how to fix – because life doesn’t come with an instruction manual or troubleshooting guide for overcoming every annoyance or frustration.
Rare are those who seek out and embrace problems. I’m one of the odd ones who do. I’ve long believed almost every problem has a solution – provided you work through the right process. Naive perhaps. But I’ve been evolving this notion for a very long time and the quest for better answers has a strong hold on me. Figuring things out is the ultimate dopamine hit. And when you can’t do it alone, asking the right people for help is where the magic of collaboration and discovery begin. Cooperative problem solving is the essence of engagement and enlightenment.
Charles Kettering, head of research at General Motors from 1920 to 1947, famously said, “A problem well-stated is a problem half-solved.” He also coined the phrase “intelligent failure,” although many mistakenly attribute it to Steve Jobs. Both, clearly, were master problem solvers. They understood that fuzzy or wrong-headed problem definition is the first roadblock to finding good solutions. Einstein once claimed that, if he had an hour to solve the most difficult problem confronting humankind, he’d spend 55 minutes thinking about it and was fully confident the right answer would arrive during the last 5 minutes. He lived in the problem-definition space longer than most – asking upside-down questions, running his intriguing thought experiments, and stretching the frame of what’s possible. He famously boasted that, if he knew the right question to ask, he could solve any problem.
So how do you work in the problem space? Start by stating your challenge simply and broadly. Don’t dress it up with unnecessary adjectives or irrelevant side stories. Keep it clean and uncomplicated. Let it marinate. Ask yourself: What are the true boundaries? What are the essential elements? Which parts could change and what would happen if they did? Where are the information gaps? Drill down on its unusual or uncertain elements. Should they be assumed as essential or taken for granted? Or can they be altered? Is it really one problem or several tangled together? What’s the root cause? Could learning a skill fix it? Is it just a question that needs to be asked of the right person?
Problem solvers move through life much like detectives unraveling mysteries. They keep asking questions and peeling the onions. They stay alert, scanning the horizon, adapting in real time. They’re insatiably curious, finding wonder in what others overlook. Someone once said you can tell a clever person by her answers, but a wise one by her questions. Problem solvers are relentlessly inquisitive, scavengers of overlooked information, believers that even random scraps might one day fit the puzzle. They speculate and, like hoarders, gather in unrelated items of data on the belief they might one day turn out to be useful. They live in the land of “what if?” and spin new ideas by remixing old ones just for the sheer pleasure of it.
Problem solvers understand that opinions are provisional, assumptions are guesses and that saying “I don’t know” is a sign of strength, not weakness. They don’t lock themselves in the prison of pretending to know everything, even when the world seems to demand it. They have no qualms about changing their minds. Gaps in their knowledge aren’t embarrassments – they’re opportunities. They don’t claim to be experts, so they don’t have to pretend to be. Because they aren’t worried about guarding their egos, they’re free to explore possibilities, to be wrong and to get better.
Driven by a dissatisfaction with the status quo, problem solvers are learners at heart. They view certitude as the enemy. They ask annoying, unconventional questions, know both what they can and cannot do, and possess mental models for getting from where they are to where they want to go. They’re constantly revising and refining those maps from the lessons discovered after making wrong turns and silly mistakes. Among the tools they often rely on is a resilient moral compass borne of the hard-knock experiences captured in navigating around the unpredictable obstacles life throws at them. They understand that stuff happens.
Problem solvers see failure as an event and know regret is a choice. One is unavoidable, the other is wasted energy. They prize good judgment above all else. They are readers, listeners, observers. They seek out candid, sometimes painful feedback that most people shy away from. Pride and ego don’t block their learning. They’re on a life-long, headlong pursuit of “finding a better way.” They accept that discomfort and confusion are stepping stones to insight. They welcome challenge, encourage disagreement and expose their ideas – both the brilliant and the absurd – to the light of outside scrutiny. They seek the better answer, the more insightful suggestion, the wiser path. For that is the holy grail.
Problem solvers embrace the teachings and stand on the shoulders of those who went before. Like Benjamin Franklin, who said, “The things that hurt, instruct.” And Goethe, who observed, “Everything is hard before it is easy.” Perhaps a Hawaiian proverb captures it best: “No cliff is so tall it cannot be climbed.” Today, more than ever, we need problem solvers – those willing to point the way – far more than we need problem creators who would rather default to pointing the finger. Which do you aspire to be?