The Power of No
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I am currently sitting underneath what meteorologists are calling a heat dome, sweating my way through a “large area of high pressure stagnating over Europe [that] acts like a lid, forcing rising warm air to sink, compressing it slightly and raising its temperature as a result.”
That’s a long and scientific way of saying it’s hot and relentless. Getting anything done under these conditions is a struggle. My iPhone—last year’s model, so hardly an ageing beast—has gone on heat strike, refusing to operate due to the extreme conditions. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could do the same? We’re reverse hibernating, hiding out from the heat, pulling the shutters down during the day, and only venturing out in the evening when conditions get slightly more bearable.
If only there was nothing to do. But I’ve agreed to take on far too much. This week I’m touching up an old essay from 2021 on the importance of saying No. Back then it was offered as advice for others. This time around, I claim this energy for myself.
No. After your name, "mama" and "dada", it’s one of the first words you learn. Research has shown babies begin to understand it at around 6-9 months, although they won't stop what they're doing in response to the word until 12-18 months.
A strong, stern No commands attention. It’s loaded with power. It can stop a child in their tracks. It might even save their life. It provides a moment of respite amongst the chaos. You've probably used it—more than once—with your kids today. And if you haven't? Don't worry, there's still time.
As our children get older, they start to use No for themselves. It's an odd occurrence, watching them weaponise those two letters against you to assert their independence, demonstrate their character, and rebalance an unfair power dynamic. What do we do in response? We overrule them; teach them their No isn't as important as ours.
As we get older, our understanding of the word hardens. We begin to see it as a profanity. No closes doors. Prohibits experiences. Saps energy. Limits possibilities. It's so negative! But whilst negativity is an attitude, No is an intentional choice. A considered No is a powerful act, a radical statement in favour of self-care, a demonstration of self-respect. It takes conviction in your beliefs, confidence in the person you are, and certainty in the path you’re on. Aside from 10 minutes of peace in the bathroom—with no one banging on the door or sliding notes underneath—few things in life are more satisfying than a good No.
2020 was a rough year, for many. But a unique pain was shared amongst the self-employed. I spent four months with no income and no work. Projects were cancelled overnight; we fell between the gaps of furlough schemes. In my line of work, when times get tough, the marketing budget is the first line item on the chopping block. I spent the first two months of lockdown worrying if work would ever pick up, and the second two embracing the uncertainty: giving myself permission to view a once-in-a-lifetime event as an opportunity to spend quality time together.
When the tap opened up, and work started coming my way, I said yes to everything. How could I not? I signed on for projects I had no right to consider. “You want me to put a documentary filmmaking team together, fly them to a sewage treatment facility in Sweden and shoot a case study film? In three days’ time? Yes, of course, I can do that. I’d love to help."
This April, I celebrated five years of working for myself. Reflecting on that time, I can’t think of a single No I regret. In their place, at least a dozen yeses, and with the gift of hindsight I realise were mistakes.
“One trick is to ask, “If I had to do this today, would I agree to it?” It’s not a bad rule of thumb, since any future commitment, no matter how far away it might be, will eventually become an imminent problem.”
— Tim Harford, The Power of Saying No
We say yes for the wrong reasons: a reluctance to be labelled as contrary, a perceived obligation to friends and family, an attempt to avoid the discomfort of dealing with a perceived backlash. We feel pressure in the moment to acquiesce; protection from the awkwardness of delivering a No. We kick the can down the road, locking ourselves into a future we might have avoided. As parents, these decisions take on an extra level of intensity. Signing up for a new project at work means missing bath time at home. Taking on a new client means increased pressure on your partner to pick up the slack. Something’s gotta give. Your world—and the people within it—must bend to accommodate your commitments.
When I originally wrote this essay, in those heady days of 2021, this was where I apologised for the newsletter being late. I’ve long given up that pastime, knowing this "Tuesday lunchtime newsletter" will arrive when it’s good and ready. For reasons unknown, our bandwidth continues to be measured in plates: I have too many things on mine; too many of them spinning. I've spread the butter of my time too thin across the warm slice of toast that we call life—a mix of private, personal and public projects colliding in a clusterfuck of deadlines, due dates and deliverables. But I am grateful to spend my time on things that excite me, bring me immense joy, and help me grow. It’s an embarrassment of riches: a kid in a candy store with a blank cheque, eyes bigger than my belly, the inevitable sugar crash the furthest thing from my mind.
As I tell myself anytime I'm feeling overwhelmed, this too shall pass. These last six months have been the busiest in my five years of independence—the continued growth of the newsletter (which now stands at over 13,000 of you wonderful people), the launch of a podcast, and a coaching practice that has shifted the way I see the world and helped others to do the same. I’ve spent the first half of the year dedicating myself to the improv code of “yes, and …” whilst promising myself the second half will shift—like Little Simz preached last year—towards a “No, thank you.”
For a word so simple, so short, so fundamental, we don’t use No anywhere near enough in our lives. The things you say No to will shape your life, your career and your family.
It will define your past, present and future. Learn how to use it, and use it well.
“Half of the troubles of this life can be traced to saying yes too quickly and not saying no soon enough.”
— Josh Billings
3 things to read this week
“The Ultimate Productivity Hack is Saying No” by James Clear. We’re heading down a vast rabbit hole of No this week. This piece from the bajillion-selling Atomic Habits author provides a simple mental framework that gives a compelling differentiation between a yes and a no, and empowers you to use the latter with abandon. “Saying no saves you time in the future. Saying yes costs you time in the future. No is a form of time credit. You retain the ability to spend your future time however you want. Yes is a form of time debt. You have to pay back your commitment at some point.”
“How About Never?” by Anna Holmes in The Atlantic. ****Saying no may be easier than you’d believe. If you’re female and/or a person of colour, the expectation society places upon you to capitulate to every request can be overwhelming. Holmes delves into the history of women saying no, and examines her relationship with the concept. “Women are encouraged to be accommodating. But the thing that sucks is, the more accommodating I am, the more the base-level expectation is that I will be accommodating! And if I’m not, the negative consequences are swift and strong.”
“The Focus to Say No” by Shane Parrish in Farnham Street. Wrapping up the no-fest with this short and snappy piece from Farnham Street, including the obligatory Steve Jobs quote, and drops a few nuggets on the way there: the idea that "The bar for yes should be high and continuously get higher” and to “Never say yes on the spot.”
An Update on the Therapy Fund
A snappy update on the Therapy Fund before I return to the heat. We’ve had an influx of dads applying to access the fund off the back of the ParentData essay a few weeks back. (If you got in touch and I still haven’t replied—sorry! I am on the case.)
We’ve also started to get some lovely photos of you rocking Good Dads Club clobber out on the streets:
I also teamed up with the folks over at Far Afield on a playlist that we’re calling “Nu Dad Rock.” This is based on my sobering realisation that the Overton window on dad rock has shifted, and all the music we loved in our twenties is now well and truly dad rock. Errrr…. enjoy?!
The Good Dads Club collection is available online and at a select number of menswear retailers, with 100% of profits going to help dads access mental health support through The New Fatherhood Therapy Fund. You can find out details on how to access the fund here. And a reminder that 10% of TNF subscription fees go directly to paternal mental health support. Thank you!
Good Dadvice
Hey! Listen to this!
Dawn Penn playing us out this week. Wa-wa-wa-wake the town and tell the people!
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Branding by Selman Design. Illustration by Tony Johnson. Survey by Sprig. Extreme temperatures via heat dome. Send me links, questions, and details about your last good No.
When I originally wrote this, my son was two and a half, and he was holding out like a boss. If I’m honest, he still is.
The Power of No
"Wouldn’t it be nice if we could do the same? We’re reverse hibernating, hiding out from the heat, pulling the shutters down during the day, and only venturing out in the evening when conditions get slightly more bearable."
I mean, this is how I grew up in California's Central Valley. But you didn't go out at night because it was only bearable after 21:00, and by then you'd be hearing gunshots ringing out in the distance. There were (and increasingly are) stretches of days from July through September when you just don't go outside during the day. Close the blinds, kick on the AC when it gets unbearable, and play video games from about 9:00 on. Even if you had access to a pool, some days it just wasn't worth it to walk or bike to the neighborhood pool for some hyper-chlorinated relief. It was always too late to go out by the time it was a decent temperature (even right now, it's only just dipping below 80F/27C at midnight).
A solid Liz Lemon, "Yes to staying in more!"
One trick is to ask, “If I had to do this today, would I agree to it?” It’s not a bad rule of thumb, since any future commitment, no matter how far away it might be, will eventually become an imminent problem.”
Wow that is one hella tip! Can hear my calendar chiming with happiness ;)