(Kenyee)
Great article in the Economist's More Intelligent Life magazine looking at the curse of professionalism. It argues that the pressure to be 'professional', one of the dominant philosophies of the last 50 years, has bogged us down in bureaucracy, stifled creativity, intuition and inspiration, institutionalised fear of failure and ripped the fun out of life.
But now that everyone is highly professional, whether in business or sport, the returns on professionalism have not only diminished massively, they have (the article suggests) actually become counterproductive, undermining the performance of both people and organisations.
The conclusion: it's time to rediscover the joys of the 'amateur' and take enjoyment in what we do as an end in itself…and the competitive advantage will follow on.
As Big Phil Scolari is quoted as saying, when managing Brazil: “my priority is to ensure that players feel more amateur than professional. Thirty to forty years ago, the effort was the other way. Now there is so much professionalism, we have to revert to urging players to like the game, love it, do it with joy.”Amongst many interesting stories used to back up this theory is that of Mark Ramprakash: one of Britain's best ever 'natural' cricketers, he never lived up to his potential because (he now admits) of the pressure of 'professionalism' he felt under.
Then, in what should have been the twilight of his career, he entered (and won) Strictly Come Dancing...and in doing so rediscovered the joy of enjoyment that comes with being an 'amateur'. He committed to translate this newfound appreciation of enjoyment back into his cricket, and has become (at 40) the best batsman in the country.
Take Mark Ramprakash, the great “what if” of English cricket. In the early 1990s, Ramprakash was a boy wonder–handsome, precociously gifted and destined for greatness. He was also the closest thing I ever saw to the perfect batsman–balanced, nimble, technically superb, hungry and athletic: a once-in-a-generation player. But his international career was a stop-start affair. He yo-yoed in and out of the England team, expectation morphed into disappointment, and Ramprakash’s career became marked by the frustrations of unfulfilled promise.
What happened to the intuitive talent of his early days? “When I was 18 cricket was a game. I used to go and try to hit Malcolm Marshall [perhaps the most feared of all fast bowlers] over the top. Then it became a job. Everyone’s so worried about the left elbow–is it in the right place?” The clouds of professionalism descended, and viewing what he did as a job made Ramprakash less good at doing it.
Then came an unexpected invitation to enter the BBC reality show “Strictly Come Dancing”, when he was 37. He was a total amateur at dancing, but he discovered a talent for it, and won. “More recently I’ve been determined to enjoy cricket more,” Ramprakash said. “That would be one massive thing I’ve got from this.” The following year, he averaged 100 for the second season running. Only one other batsman since the second world war had averaged over 100 in two separate seasons–and no one had ever done it in consecutive years. This year, as his 40th birthday loomed, Ramprakash was the leading county batsman again with an average of 90.
As someone who has spent most of their career worrying that they aren't good enough, or as good as others, I have not enjoyed what is a brilliant job anywhere near as much as I should. So maybe it's time to stop taking it all so seriously, and start having some fun instead.
Which is of course easier send then done ;o)
