If this, then that

Motivation is finicky stuff. Goddess knows I’m guilty of waiting for it to magically appear, so that I can finally do The Thing and feel good about it.

There’s no shortage of advice: inspirational quotes, pep talks, hustle-culture podcasts, productivity courses.

And they're mostly based on the concepts of carrot and/or stick – it's how we raise our kids, train our pets, encourage hard work and punish poor performance.

We promise ourselves a treat if we manage to quit smoking, and self-punish with an extra long run after that sinful cupcake at the office. We set up bonus systems to boost performance, and call people in for awkward talks when it doesn't work.

It's so ingrained in us – when I feel bad for not having been "productive" enough, I self punish by politely declining nice invitations because I feel like I don't deserve them yet. Maybe when I've done "enough" I'll come out.

The science of motivation

We often reduce motivation to the drive to get something done. Often overlooked is that there are different types, and they're good for different things.

Aside from our urge to satisfy biological needs, we have two main types of motivation, intrinsic and extrinsic. Intrinsic motivation is named by its from-within nature. It’s what keeps us going because it's fun, satisfying or feels good to do The Thing. Like solving that puzzle or helping a neighbour out. Overcoming an obstacle and feeling proud. Making that piece of art because you want it to exist.

Extrinsic motivation is the more obvious cousin. It’s less about completing that marathon because it was hard, more about the prize, recognition or desirable body you get from training a lot. It’s about the external reward, not the intrinsic satisfaction.

And no wonder it's popular – it's a lot less complex to just offer that bonus than building a team culture where people feel connected, challenged within their reach, and like their work matters. That’s not to say bonuses don’t have their place — they can work well for repetitive tasks that just need to get done.

Unfortunately, it’s terrible for creativity.

What happens is this - when we strive for that bonus, the if this - then that reward, we start steering our creativity in the direction we think is most likely to get it. We narrow our scope, we box ourselves in. Exactly the opposite of what gets us new ideas.

The Harvard Business School researcher Teresa Amabile has performed a number of studies on rewards and creativity. In one of them, she and two colleagues asked 23 artists to select ten commissioned, and ten freely created pieces each. A group of accomplished artists and curators who knew nothing of the study were then asked to rate the pieces on creativity and technical skill. Interestingly, both collections were considered to be of equal technical quality, but the freely made pieces consistently scored higher on creativity.

And it makes all the sense in the world – if we're entering an art competition with the hopes of winning a money prize or recognition, we will try to come up with a concept that is likely to please the jury rather than what we like. The prospect of the external reward quietly corrupts our instincts.

Intrinsic motivation makes us more creative – more willing to take leaps of faith, experiment wilder and spend more time deep in the process. Extrinsic motivation boxes us in, it puts our eyes on the prize rather than the task at hand.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

To add insult to injury, external rewards turn play into work, so not only will they make you less creative, but also make you have less fun.

In a long term study from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago in the early 1960s, researches interviewed students about their attitudes toward work, and whether their motivation was mainly extrinsic or intrinsic. When interviewed again some 20 years later, the results were clear: The artists who were the least interested in external rewards were the most likely to achieve it, and produce work that was recognised as superior.

Unfortunately it’s hard to not look at the money when you as an artist are dirt poor and really need something to be a hit so you can pay your rent. This mechanism very unfairly advantages those who don’t really have to worry, because they come from generational wealth for example.

So what can you do?

If you're struggling to feel excitement or drive for The Thing, pause for a moment and ask why that might be. Take notes. Do you actually want or enjoy this? Are you striving to impress someone else?

Learning new things, creating from scratch and solving problems is hard, but it should also be satisfying in one way or another.

There's also a lot more potential for trouble when you start sharing your work with the world. Initially, you might just hope for some nice words when you show The Thing to someone, or secretly hope for a few more likes on social media. After a while you might feel like you have to continue now, that it's who you are, it's expected. And get frustrated because you're not getting back what you're putting in.

I've done all of the above, and it made me miserable. I quit my own music project over it. Now I sing in a choir instead, and write this blog. Because I want these things to exist, and it makes me happy.

So what makes your brain fire, eyes sparkle and hands gesticulate? When was the last time you felt in flow, sucked in, obsessed? Do more of that. Hide or ignore the numbers, make gifts for the universe, consider it an experiment.

My last exam in university was jazz flute, assessed by the legendary musician and fellow human John Pål Inderberg. We had a little chat afterwards, and I'll share the one piece of advice he gave me for both music and the future:

Follow the kick.