FIGURE 3: There are three layers of behavior change: a change in your
outcomes, a change in your processes, or a change in your identity.
The first layer is changing your outcomes. This level is
concerned with changing your results: losing weight, publishing a
book, winning a championship. Most of the goals you set are
associated with this level of change.
The second layer is changing your process. This level is
concerned with changing your habits and systems: implementing a
new
routine at the gym, decluttering your desk for better workflow,
developing a meditation practice. Most of the habits you build are
associated with this level.
The third and deepest layer is changing your identity. This
level is concerned with changing your beliefs: your worldview, your
self-image, your judgments about yourself and others. Most of the
beliefs, assumptions, and biases you hold are associated with this level.
Outcomes are about what you get. Processes are about what you do.
Identity is about what you believe. When it comes to building habits
that last—when it comes to building a system of 1 percent
improvements—the problem is not that one level is “better” or “worse”
than another. All levels of change are useful in their own way. The
problem is the
direction of change.
Many people begin the process of changing their habits by focusing
on
what they want to achieve. This leads us to outcome-based habits.
The alternative is to build identity-based habits.
With this approach,
we start by focusing on
who we wish to become.
OUTCOME-BASED HABITS
IDENTITY-BASED HABITS
FIGURE 4: With outcome-based habits, the focus is on what you want to
achieve. With identity-based habits, the focus is on who you wish to
become.
Imagine two people resisting a cigarette. When offered a smoke, the
first person says, “No thanks. I’m trying to quit.” It sounds like a
reasonable
response, but this person still believes they are a smoker
who is trying to be something else. They are hoping their behavior will
change while carrying around the same beliefs.
The second person declines by saying, “No thanks. I’m not a
smoker.” It’s a small difference, but this statement signals a shift in
identity. Smoking was part of their former life, not their current one.
They no longer identify as someone who smokes.
Most people don’t even consider identity change when they set out
to improve. They just think, “I want to be skinny (outcome) and if I
stick to this diet, then I’ll be skinny (process).”
They set goals and
determine the actions they should take to achieve those goals without
considering the beliefs that drive their actions. They never shift the
way they look at themselves, and they don’t realize that their old
identity can sabotage their new plans for change.
Behind every system of actions are a system of beliefs. The system of
a democracy is founded on beliefs like freedom, majority rule, and
social equality. The system of a dictatorship has a very different set of
beliefs like absolute authority and strict obedience.
You can imagine
many ways to try to get more people to vote in a democracy, but such
behavior change would never get off the ground in a dictatorship.
That’s not the identity of the system. Voting is a behavior that is
impossible under a certain set of beliefs.
A similar pattern exists whether we are discussing individuals,
organizations, or societies. There are a set of beliefs and assumptions
that shape the system, an identity behind the habits.
Behavior that is incongruent with the self will not last. You may
want more money, but if your identity is someone who consumes
rather
than creates, then you’ll continue to be pulled toward spending
rather than earning. You may want better health, but if you continue to
prioritize comfort over accomplishment, you’ll be drawn to relaxing
rather than training. It’s hard to change your habits if you never
change the underlying beliefs that led to your past behavior. You have
a new goal and a new plan, but you haven’t
changed who you are.
The story of Brian Clark, an entrepreneur from Boulder, Colorado,
provides a good example. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve chewed
my fingernails,” Clark told me. “It started as a nervous habit when I
was young, and then morphed into an undesirable grooming ritual.
One day, I resolved to stop chewing my nails until they grew out a bit.
Through mindful willpower alone, I managed to do it.”
Then, Clark did something surprising.
“I asked my wife to schedule my first-ever manicure,” he said. “My
thought was that if I started
paying to maintain my nails, I wouldn’t
chew them. And it worked, but not for the monetary reason. What
happened was the manicure made my fingers look really nice for the
first time. The manicurist even said that—other than the chewing—I
had really healthy, attractive nails. Suddenly, I was proud of my
fingernails. And even though that’s something I had never aspired to, it
made all the difference. I’ve never chewed my nails since; not even a
