Yesterday, I was captivated by a TEDx talk from Mark Rober where he introduced a fascinating concept called “The Super Mario Effect.” This insightful presentation explores how framing challenges positively, focusing on the goal rather than the obstacles, can significantly improve learning and task persistence. I highly recommend watching the full video to grasp the nuances of this “effect.” However, my focus here is on a compelling experiment Mark showcased at the beginning of his talk – a car coding game designed to test the psychology of learning from failure.
Mark, leveraging his platform as a prominent YouTuber, enlisted 50,000 of his followers to participate in a seemingly simple car coding game. Unbeknownst to the players, Mark was conducting a clever experiment. In this game, participants were tasked with creating a script using provided code blocks to guide a virtual car from a starting line to a precise finish point. Landing on the exact mark was the winning condition.
This wasn’t just about gaming; it was a study in human behavior. Mark secretly developed two versions of the car coding game, identical in every aspect except for the feedback mechanism upon failure. In one version, players who failed to reach the target were simply prompted to “try again.” In the other version, a slightly more discouraging approach was implemented: players were penalized with a deduction of 5 points from their initial score of 200 for each unsuccessful attempt.
The results were striking and highlighted the significant psychological impact of negative reinforcement on learning and persistence. In the “penalty” version of the car coding game, only 52% of participants successfully completed the challenge. This is in stark contrast to the “try again” version, where a substantial 68% of players achieved success. This notable difference in success rates was further explained by the average number of attempts. Players in the point-deduction group averaged only 5 attempts before either succeeding or giving up, while those in the “try again” group persisted for an average of 12 attempts.
Frankly, these results weren’t entirely surprising. As previously discussed in my article on learning to code, the inclination to give up is a natural response when we perceive ourselves as losing – be it time, resources, or in this case, points. It could even be argued that this aversion to loss is an ingrained instinct, perhaps a part of what Carl Jung termed the collective unconscious. This instinct served our ancestors well, prompting them to retreat from danger. However, in the complexities of modern life, this deeply rooted aversion can sometimes be counterproductive, especially in learning scenarios. Those points deducted in Mark Rober’s car coding game are, after all, merely arbitrary numbers. It’s easy to rationalize ignoring the penalty in a game, but what happens when the stakes are real?
This brings me to a recent conversation with my mother about the contrasting economic landscapes of Vietnam, our home country, and Finland, where I currently reside. It struck me that many Vietnamese individuals, despite living in a nation often perceived as having a lower living standard, actually enjoy a comparable, and in some cases, superior quality of life compared to those in Western countries. Indeed, many of my relatives in Vietnam are financially more comfortable than I am. Furthermore, Vietnam possesses inherent advantages: a larger population translating to bigger markets and a more abundant labor pool, coupled with lower labor costs and reduced market saturation. Theoretically, these conditions should foster a thriving entrepreneurial spirit. Yet, the reality is that startup activity remains relatively limited. Why? Numerous factors come to mind, but they all converge on a central theme: the fear of failure and its consequences. A typical young Vietnamese individual with professional experience often bears significant familial responsibilities, supporting not just themselves but also spouses, children, parents, and even extended family members. They lack the financial buffer to risk their stable income on ventures like starting a company. Even if they possess sufficient savings, securing funding for business ideas is challenging, often limited to personal loans from banks or informal borrowing from friends and family. This makes entrepreneurship exceptionally risky, as failure can be financially devastating, potentially leading to insurmountable debt.
While I didn’t intend to delve into macroeconomics, this example underscores a crucial point relevant to Mark Rober’s car coding game experiment and the broader discussion of learning and persistence. We frequently hear about the importance of “grit” and “stick-to-itiveness” as keys to success. However, we seldom discuss how to effectively manage the inevitable failures that accompany any ambitious pursuit. Failure is always a possibility, and due to survivorship bias, we primarily hear success stories – tales of triumph over adversity, or of individuals who failed repeatedly but ultimately persevered. We rarely hear from those who failed and were unable to recover.
There’s a ubiquitous quote attributed to Benjamin Franklin: “By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.” This emphasizes the critical role of preparation in achieving success. However, I believe this quote inadvertently downplays the equally crucial aspect of preparing for potential failures. Statistically, any endeavor can lead to a multitude of outcomes, and while meticulous preparation can mitigate risks, it cannot eliminate the possibility of setbacks.
So, what’s the takeaway from Mark Rober’s car coding game experiment and this discussion? Risk management is a complex subject, far too intricate to fully address here, and frankly, it’s not my area of expertise. Consider this article more as “food for thought,” prompting you to consider an often-overlooked aspect of learning and achievement. If you seek concise advice, I can only offer these somewhat cliché yet timeless principles: Be prepared, have a backup plan, hope for the best, but always prepare for the worst.
Until next time!
