Excerpts from Super-Communicators
What follows is an edited excerpt from Supercommunicators by Charles DuHigg, Random House Publishers.
A Case Study in Community
Excerpts from Super-Communicators
In the afterword of the book Super-Communicators by Charles DuHigg, the author of the Power of Habit, he tells of a Harvard Study that began in 1937. A chain-store magnate named Billy Grant approached Harvard University about doing a study on what factors predicted people’s success in life. He had dropped out of high school but gone on to succeed in selling kitchen supplies to stores across the nation. At 61, he wanted to give back to society through a large donation, and he needed to hire lots of managers for his growing company. How could he predict their success? He offered a small fortune to Harvard for this study, as long as they would share their findings with him.
Harvard thought it a bit crass but needed the money. They wanted to recruit hundreds of Harvard graduates and study them for decades, examining such issues as nature versus nurture, the connection between personality and health, and whether mental illnesses can be predicted. They wanted to know more than just what made people good at selling spatulas, but collected data on their fitness, their families, schooling, work, and their emotional and physical characteristics.
They would do extensive psychological exams and interviews. There would be detailed surveys they would fill out for the rest of their lives. Then they could look for patterns. Could any of this explain why some people became gainfully employed and happy, healthy adults, while others did not? The project became known as the Grant study. It gradually grew to include a group of teens from Boston’s south tenements. It grew to include the spouses and offspring of people who were studied. More than 2000 men and women were analyzed. The Harvard Study of Adult Development became one of the largest, longest most famous studies in the world.
Some of the first enrolled were two men who were studied leading up to World War 2. The first was a man who became known as a neurotic hypochondriac named Godfrey Camille. He was a disaster. He was raised away from his parents because they were pathologically suspicious. He had one of the bleakest childhoods they’d ever seen. He was in the medical clinic regularly as a student at Harvard. He was skinny and weak and struggled to make friends. He went to the war and left as a private, in contrast to many of his peers who went in as officers and distinguished themselves. He went to medical school, and soon after graduation attempted suicide. He grew apart from his family. At 35, he was hospitalized for pulmonary tuberculosis for 14 months. He later told a researcher “I was glad to be sick. That means I can go to bed for a year.”
The other man’s name was John Marsden, and he was very different. He was an exceptional student who came from a wealthy family that ran a dry goods company in Cleveland. He served valiantly in WW2, then refused to join the family business, following his passion into law, attending the University of Chicago Law School, where he graduated near the top of his class. He became a public service lawyer, got married, and eventually started a private practice. The Grant study tried to be objective and avoid generalizations and predictions, but with these two men, it was hard to avoid. It was clear to everyone that Camille would end up depressed and lonely, or dead by his own hand. Everyone predicted that he would be a loser. Marsden was predicted to be a leader, another proud chapter in his successful family. He was noted as one of the most professionally successful members of the study.
16 years into the study, the funding ran out. Billy Grant had given 7 million dollars by this time and was frustrated that there wasn’t much helpful data for him for hiring store managers. For the most part, the study was boxed up and stashed in the basement of the medical school. In the early 1970’s, a group of young psychiatry professors started digging through those boxes and stumbled upon the project’s surveys. They began tracking down the participants and doing follow-up surveys. They expected to find that the people were still following along the same trajectory as when the study had ended. When they spoke to Camille and Marsden, they discovered that this assumption was completely wrong.
In the intervening decades, Camille had become a different person. He was now in his 50’s, married, a leader in his church, and had won over Boston’s medical establishment by founding a large, independent clinic that specialized in allergy treatments. He was a nationally recognized expert on treating asthmatic patients, invited to symposiums and interviewed on television. When researchers spoke to his daughters, who were now young adults, they called him “an exemplary father, someone with the innate ability to give. He could play like five-year-olds do.” They did follow up surveys every two years, and Camille seemed happier than ever. In 1994, when he was 75 years old, he wrote, “Before there were dysfunctional families, I came from one. But I managed to escape from that legacy by changing into the person I’ve slowly become. Comfortable, joyful, connected and effective.”
At 80, Camille threw himself a potluck birthday party, and more than 300 people showed up. A bit later, researchers found out that he was flying to the Alps for a climbing trek with friends. He died of a heart attack on that trip at 82 years old. At his memorial, the church was packed. The Bishop eulogized him. “There was a deep authenticity about the man.” His son told the crowd, “He lived a simple life, but it was very rich.” The researchers concluded, “Who could’ve foreseen that he would die a happy, giving and beloved man?”
In contrast, Marsden was in terrible shape when the researchers caught back up to him. In his 50’s now, he was divorced and alienated from his children and his family in Cleveland. Though his law practice was successful, he had few friends, and spent most of his time alone. He reported feeling angry, lonely, and disappointed by life. He got married again, but just a few years later reported that the relationship was loveless. “Do you ever go to your wife when you’re upset?” one survey asked. “No, definitely not. I would get no sympathy. I would be told that it’s a sign of weakness.” When asked, “How do you cope with difficulty?” He said, “I keep it to myself. I tough it out.” One researcher said, “He seems like a broken person.” He eventually stopped responding to researchers’ requests. Finally a research survey letter was returned unopened and a note on the envelope said that he had died. The current residents had no idea if there were any next of kin.
How could things turn out so unexpectedly for these two men? The researchers found that this same surprising result happened with many others in the study. People who were destined for greatness and had bright futures in front of them ended up as lonely and depressed adults, dissatisfied with their lives. Whereas others who faced crippling obstacles such as mental health and poverty had arrived at old age happy, successful and surrounded by family and friends.
The researchers by now had 70 years of data to draw upon and began crawling through it. Genetics, childhoods, propensity for alcoholism, how many hours they had worked, how many kids they had raised. Which variables would reliably predict how someone would turn out in life? They discovered some correlations. Having loving parents made it easier to find happiness as an adult. It was helpful to have hearty genes and to get enough exercise and eat well. Education early in life, and committing to a long life of learning also was an advantage. But one thing seemed to matter more than anything else. The most important variable that determined if someone ended up happy and healthy, or miserable and sick, was how satisfied they were in their relationships.
The people who were most satisfied in their relationships at age 50 were the healthiest mentally and physically at age 80. Another researcher put it more bluntly. The most important influence by far on a flourishing life is love, not romantic, but rather the kinds of deep connections we form with our families, our friends, our co-workers, as well as neighbors and people from our community. Love early in life facilities not only love later on, but also the other trappings of success like prestige and high income. It also encourages the development of coping styles that facilitate intimacy as opposed to ones that discourage it. Participants that ended up happy all had warm adult relationships with numerous people. They had good marriages, were close to their children, and had invested in strong friendships. The people who flourished found love, and that was why they flourished.
On the other hand, the people who had not invested in relationships, who had prioritized their careers over family and friends, or who were unable to connect for other reasons, were mostly miserable. When John Marsden was 40 years old, with almost half his life in front of him, this is what he wrote when asked by researchers to describe what he found himself thinking about often. “I’m growing old. I realize for the first time the reality of death. I feel I may not achieve what I wanted. Not sure I know how to bring up children. I thought I did. Tensions at work are severe.” He didn’t mention other people or relationships, except in a negative sense. When he felt depressed, instead of seeking out his companions, he went to his office and tried to use his legal practice to distract himself. When he argued with his wife or children, he stomped off and withdrew rather than talking through issues until a resolution or at least an understanding emerged.
He was a very self-critical person. He pushed himself and judged himself harshly. That made him successful in his profession, but also meant he was critical with other people, which was probably what alienated so many of them. He developed a wariness of people in habitually negative ways of coping with the world. He had difficulty in connecting with others. He married twice and never felt that he was truly loved.
Compare this with Camille the doctor. During the year he spent in the tuberculosis ward, he began developing relationships with fellow patients. He met some for Bible study, and others to play cards. He formed relationships with nurses and orderlies. He told researchers that his time in the hospital felt like a rebirth. People cared about me. Nothing has been so tough since that year. When he left the hospital, he joined a church and threw himself into committees and potlucks and Sunday School, anything where he could meet other people. Until the age of 30, he didn’t have one durable friendship. A decade later, he was among the most socially active people in the study. As his network expanded, his career took off. He wrote this on a survey at the age of 75: “My professional life hasn’t been disappointing. Far from it. But the truly gratifying unfolding has been into the person I’ve slowly become. Connectedness is something we must let happen to us. What durable and pliable creatures we are. What a storehouse of good will lurks in the social fabric. Talking to other people, connecting with them, sharing my joys and sorrows has transformed my life. You know what I learned? I learned love.”
This happened with many others in the study. The happiest people called others regularly, made lunch and dinner dates, sent notes to family and friends saying they were proud of them or wanted to help shoulder their sad news. Most of all, happy participants engaged in many, many conversations over the years that brought them closer to others.
In a 2023 summary of the Harvard data, we read “Through all the years of studying these lives, one crucial factor stands out for the consistency and power of its ties to physical health, mental health and longevity. Good relationships keep us healthier and happier. And in many instances, those relationships were established and kept alive via long and intimate discussions. This central finding has been replicated through hundreds of similar studies in the past few decades. “We now have robust evidence indicating that being socially connected has a powerful influence on longevity, such that having more and better relationships is associated with protection, and conversely having fewer and poorer relationships is associated with risk. Social isolation was more dangerous than diabetes and a host of other chronic diseases. Connecting with others can make us healthier, happier and more content. Conversations can change our brains, our bodies and how we experience the world.