Marshmallow smarshmallow

(extract from published article) The marshmallow test is a famous psychological experiment that tests children’s willingness to delay gratification. Children are offered a marshmallow, but told that they can have a second marshmallow if they’re willing to wait 15 minutes before eating the first one. Claims that children with the willpower to hold out do much better in life haven’t held up well, but the experiment is still a useful metaphor for many choices in life, both by individuals and by larger groups.

I have no idea how I would have responded to this test as a three year old. I’m guessing, since it seems to me now that I would have interpreted it as some sort of ‘a good person doesn’t pig out’ test combined with a test of ‘do as I was told’ conditioning, I’d probably hold off but there’s another reason, a better reason, a more sound reason why I’m pretty sure I would have shown a high level of restraint: I don’t like marshmallows!¹ On further reading, the children were offered a choice of incentives: marshmallow or pretzel, Again, I would have shown admirable restraint; I can’t stand pretzels either.Not then, not today. I recall trying them burnt around the campfire; what was that all about? Why would a flaming, hot glob with bits of black improve things?² S’mores are today’s advancement on the simple marshmallow: outer graham crackers sandwich a hunk of chocolate and roasted marshmallow. What kid wouldn’t delay gratification for that?Now, had they been ju-jubes …

The original test was done in the late 60s and early 70s and there has been a lot of push back on the hypothesis but why didn’t they ask themselves at the time, ‘do kids like marshmallows?’ before testing temptation? I certainly would have skewed the results.

But I digress.

So now the million dollar question is, taking the hypothesis as sound, have I done better in life?

Hard to measure when you don’t know the scale. Well, one thing, I’ve passed the statistical age when I shouldn’t be kicking around so maybe there’s a healthy reason to leave marshmallows alone.

“So sorry for your loss; and your husband left us far too early.  Any reason for that do you suppose?”

“Well, he was a recreational pole vaulter and did get high on marshmallows.”

And what if I included my marshmallow delayed gratification result from years past in my CV?

“Now Mr. Legon, this demanding EVP position calls for someone who sees what lies ahead, doesn’t jump to conclusions and through patience still gets to enjoy one’s just deserts. What is there in your experience, Mr. Legon, that would show me you’d meet those demands and qualify for this position?”

“I held off eating a marshmallow for 15 minutes.”

“Welcome to the firm.”

So, I’m trying to come up with a test, now that the marshmallow has been let metaphorically to fall off the stick into the fire, that would accomplish what the psychologists had set out to find lo these many years.

We’d all love to know as soon as possible what it would take to be a success in our future calling. What are today’s ‘marshmallow’ tests that we have to face to guarantee our future and get to enjoy the fruits of our labours, so to speak.

This would, of course, eliminate sports. No amount of time waiting on that second marshmallow or today’s equivalent is going to lower my golf score. And I don’t see the correlation between a ‘delaying gratification’ equivalent and noting an ear-popping opera.

No, it would have to be something mere mortals can accomplish a little better than other mere mortals. So let’s work backwards and create the position and its necessary skill set and then create the test that will expose your chance of future accomplishment.

Well, I’m writing. Let’s start there. Everyone can read and write so our hypothetical position calls for the ability to be ‘more competent’ in writing. Let’s start a list of required skills:

• Have an idea (Muses are busy people and they take holidays)
• Able to suffer long periods of time doing nothing (affectionately known as ‘’writer’s block’ but it’s really a sign that you have no imagination
• Ability to imagine success (somebody will buy your book who is not a relative)
• Ability to discard futile ideas (this is almost impossible to do, how do you decide none of them is utile?
• Ability to read (also known as plagiarism, ‘Hey, you’ve got to get your ideas from somewhere, why not an obscure writer?)
• Ability to edit (take preceding point and turn plagiarism into ‘bright new voice.’
• Able to take criticism (why is this here?)
• Believe in yourself (unsuccessful egomaniacs do this all the time)
• Believe rejection is part of the process (also part of accepting, ‘This is garbage.’)
• You personify hope. Failed writers get work as editors (‘I know garbage when I see it.’)

So let’s table these skills with their possible tests:

You need this skill	Can you pass this test?
Have an idea	Brain scan
Handle long periods of boredom	Stream all 98 episodes of Gilligan’s Island
Imagine success	Do the math and still buy a lottery ticket
Discard inane ideas	Can you crumple paper? Do you have a wastebasket?
Able to read	Eye chart
Able to edit	Can you make an ‘X’? With a red indelible Sharpie?
Take criticism	Phone your mother
Believe in yourself	Have a drink, make it two
Take rejection	Ask someone to put you up for a few days; not more than a year
Have hope	Buy another lottery ticket

So, where are we? Well, it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to come up with an ‘all-in-one’ test so why not just start banging away at the keys and see what happens?

I know what works for me, a ju-jube every 15 minutes.