I’m undecided about whether writing self-help books is the toughest gig in the world or money for old rope. Those who know what an avid reader I am are keen to pass on suggestions and recommendations of books (both fiction and non-fiction) that they think I’ll dig, and I’m very grateful to them.

In my reading life, getting on for twenty years ago, I joined a book group as the stuff I was ploughing through had got into a bit of a rut. I’d read through every single Graham Greene novel (including the two he’d suppressed for being awful, which had necessitated hunting down tricky-to-find first editions… only to discover, on wading through them, that he’d been right to look to stop them from being reprinted). I’ve cultivated a pretty scattergun approach to picking what I’m reading next, but it usually involves ordering copies of books and stowing them on various double-stacked shelves and ‘to-read’ piles around the house, until the mood takes me.

So I’m unsure who it was who flagged Professor Milkman’s work to me, but I can see why I was intrigued. The author is an Economist and has a stellar track record in research around how economics and psychology can be used to change people’s behaviours for the better. Her background in operations research, computer science and business is suitably eclectic and she writes with real authority on the various studies and scientific underpinnings behind the ‘top-tips’ that she distils down to at the end of each chapter.

The chapters are themed around a series of topics that are regular impediments to people being able to make and sustain changes. The chapters each begin with an overview of the topic, some outline of the context in which the author or her friends and colleagues sought to explore the issues, the way they went about the research and the conclusions (pithily summarised) that can be taken away and used by us all in our daily lives.

There’s sections on how we can go about starting to make a change (including a gushing account of visiting Google’s headquarters), a chapter on impulsivity, which looks at how we prioritise instant gratification over the things that will bring long term rewards, there’s a great chapter on procrastination, which I think every coach will have come across, both as an issue for themselves, and as a common theme among our clients.

The chapter on forgetfulness seemed a bit mistitled, as what it was really covering was how short term our brains work in prioritisation and so, how it’s very easy for things to fall down the list of importance. Similarly the chapter that follows on laziness is really tackling how people will take the easy route when doing routine things. I liked the chapter on Confidence a lot (it probably had the most sincere of the background stories in the guts of the chapter. The book rounds out its main section with a piece titled conformity, but which really highlights the benefits of surrounding yourself with good people.

The style of the book is quite readable, it covers a decent amount of useful ground and the way in which the learnable points are condensed at the end of each section is really tidily done.

But, why is it that coming to review this a couple of weeks from swiping the last page on my Kindle, I’m left pondering my reservations with recommending the book, as a whole, rather than just suggesting that you skip to the end of each chapter and glean the punchy conclusions?

I think the problems relate back to how writing self-help books must be a bit of a thankless task, in many ways. Katy writes in an easy to read and fairly engaging style, but about half way through I was starting to get annoyed. Each chapter framed the issues in fairly low stakes, relatable terms (Are you not doing enough exercise? Are you eating stuff that’s bad for you? Are you not succeeding quite as much as you could?). The chapter then goes on to explain how Katy and her friends have solved this (or have noticed the things that made them all the successful models that we should all follow). The research, as presented, kind of rankled to me as a scientist too. It tended towards, “We noticed this, tested it, and found it to be true…” It makes for the background behind these teachings all feeling a bit dull and unmemorable, there’s very little in the way of anecdote, surprise or quirk (by contrast, for example, with the very memorable “Quirkology” by Professor Richard Wiseman, who managed to land a similar style book, but concentrated on research into the quirky, which has stuck in my mind years after the reading).

It feels as though the author is trying to sell the outcomes outlined in the book by asserting how she, and her talented but atypical colleagues from elite academia have nailed these things in their lives and are now on a quest to help us. It feels a bit jarring as, although there’s doubtless stuff that is applicable, the context in which they’re doing it comes across as a bit rarified, and despite the relatable examples, are placed in lives that seem free from some of the knottier complications (in comparison with my, or my coachees experience, for example).

So, if you’re writing a self-help book, how do you explain how these things can work, and land your credentials without becoming irksome? Even as I read this back, I feel I’ve gone too far, as Prof Milkman does manage to stay readable and relevant, if not memorable.

I think I find these books easier to remember when there’s more of a narrative, more of a challenge. The studies in this are discussing ways in which they’ve nudged behaviour to encourage people to put more money into savings, so sort of fall between the stools of being a bit sterile takes on corporate initiatives, or not especially challenging or relatable personal tales of (undoubtedly) talented academics.

But perhaps the biggest downer was in the ‘finale’, which was a much shorter chapter, that explained that the impacts of these habits and changes had been shown to fade over time, and so the way to make them persist was to revisit them. Regularly. In view of the framing of the earlier chapters this seemed a real bait and switch (as the tone had certainly suggested that these approaches would lead to lasting change).

So, a useful book, and I would recommend it, it has some useful takeaway tips on a range of topics and pithy explanations of useful tools for coaching and coachees, like the value of checklists, cues and plans, how important it is to break down targets into smaller and more achievable chunks. There’s fiddlier concepts that didn’t quite land for me, like self-imposed penalties (but a convincing argument is made for their utility, and I suppose is balanced out by suggestions around self-affirmation and the perks of adopting a growth mindset. The later sections also reinforce the importance that social pressure can have with regards to accountability, which might be handy if you or your coachee is having difficulty sticking to commitments or actions from the sessions.

I’d suggest that if you are interested, you skim it for the well distilled conclusions to each chapter and avoid the pleasant, but inessential background, unless the pithy distillations prompt you to wanting to know more.

(reading it on the kindle I was relieved when it finished at about 66% “read” with the final third of the book being simply references, which shows how rich the underpinnings of the book are, albeit also how light the actual book itself is). 

*I bought my own copy of this book, and have no links to the author or the publisher.

**Since writing this review (a few weeks ago) I have referred to and recommended to coachees the techniques and approaches outlined here (along with the caveats). It’s an applicable book, and I hope that that comes across in the review, despite my reservations.