In creating the attributes for our baseball cards, I used a combination of adjectives we already used to describe people, like “conceptual,” “reliable,” “creative,” and “determined”; the actions people took or didn’t take such as “holding others accountable” and “pushing through to results”; and terms from personality tests such as “extroverted” or “judging.” Once the cards were established, I created a process to have people evaluate each other, with the people rated highest in each dimension (e.g., “most creative”) having more weight on the ratings of other people in that dimension. People with proven track records in a certain area would get more believability, or decision-making weight, within that area. By recording these qualities in people’s Baseball Cards, others who’d never worked with them before could know what to expect from them. When people changed, their rating would change. And when they didn’t change, we were even more sure of what we could expect of them.
Naturally when I introduced this tool, people were skeptical or scared of it for various reasons. Some were afraid that the cards would be inaccurate; others thought it would be uncomfortable to have their weaknesses made so apparent, or that it would lead to their being pigeonholed, inhibiting their growth; still others thought it would be too complex to be practical. Imagine how you would feel if you were asked to force-rank all your colleagues on creativity, determination, or reliability. Most people at first find that prospect frightening.
Still, I knew that we needed to be radically open in recording and considering what people were like, and that things would eventually evolve to address people’s concerns if we were sensible about how we approached the process. Today, most everyone at Bridgewater finds these Baseball Cards to be essential, and we have built a whole suite of other tools, which will be further described in Work Principles, to support our drive to understand what people are like and who is believable at what.
I’ve already noted that our unique way of operating and the treasure trove of data we accumulated brought us to the attention of some world-renowned organizational psychologists and researchers. Bob Kegan of Harvard University, Adam Grant of the Wharton School, and Ed Hess of the University of Virginia have written about us extensively, and I have learned a great deal from them in turn. In a way I never intended, our trial-and-error discovery process has put us at the cutting edge of academic thinking about personal development within organizations. As Kegan wrote in his book An Everyone Culture, “from the individual experience of probing in every one-on-one meeting, to the technologically integrated processes for discussing issues and baseball cards, to the company-wide practices of daily updates and cases, Bridgewater has built an ecosystem to support personal development. The system helps everyone in the company confront the truth about what everyone is like.”
Our journey of discovery has coincided with an incredibly fertile epoch in neuroscience, when, thanks to rapid advances in brain imaging and the ability to gather and process big data, our understanding has accelerated dramatically. As with all sciences on the cusp of breakthroughs, I am sure that much of what is thought to be true today will soon be radically improved. But what I do know is how incredibly beautiful and useful it is to understand how the thinking machine between our ears works.
Here’s some of what I’ve learned: The brain is even more complex than we can imagine. It has an estimated eighty-nine billion tiny computers (called neurons) that are connected to each other through many trillions of “wires” called axons and chemical synapses. As David Eagleman describes it in his wonderful book Incognito: Your brain is built of cells called neurons and glia, hundreds of billions of them. Each one of them is as complex as a city. The cells [neurons] are connected in a network of such staggering complexity that it bankrupts human language and necessitates new strains of mathematics. A typical neuron makes about ten thousand connections to neighboring neurons. Given billions of neurons, this means that there are as many connections in a single cubic centimeter of brain tissue as there are stars in the Milky Way galaxy.
When we are born our brains are preprogrammed with learning accumulated over hundreds of millions of years. For example, researchers at the University of Virginia have shown that while many people have an instinctual fear of snakes, no one has an instinctual fear of flowers. The brains that we were born with had learned that snakes are dangerous and flowers are not. There’s a reason for that.