When Quartz science editor Katie Palmer was in college, she studied anxious mice. The project involved examining the biological differences between two groups of rats raised by temperament; the researchers separated them from their mothers as young and classified them into groups according to what they cried or simply relaxed. Ultimately, says Palmer, she found nothing very noteworthy.
Au contraire, I mean, because in the process she discovered an interesting management metaphor.
In the workplace, most of us can classify ourselves as anxious mice or calm mice. Anxious rats worry about being fired whenever their boss makes an individual appointment. They blame themselves for small mistakes and stay up at night wincing as they remember comments they made at meetings. Every project they work on – slice of cheese, open trash bin, whole slice of pizza – is in their minds a secret referendum on whether they are really smart and competent.
Cold mice experience the same potential stressors at work, but react in remarkably different ways. They accept that they will inevitably make mistakes and try to learn from them and move on. If someone says their job is rubbish, they know it’s a compliment, because rats love rubbish! They are self-confident with their superiors, going straight to sniffing them instead of cowering in the corner. They enthusiastically suggest ideas during brainstorming sessions, but don’t take it personally if things don’t work out. Calm mice are fun at office parties and don’t find karaoke embarrassing.
Given the option, most people would probably prefer to be relaxed. But we don’t necessarily have to choose. Our temperaments are shaped by genetic and environmental factors, and if we come from the lineage of anxious mice, grew up in a dysfunctional nest or were bullied in a school of mice, it makes sense to be prone to trembling.
Furthermore, depending on the particular circumstances of each situation, anxiety can be entirely justified. It is understandable that, in a time characterized by layoffs and closed deals, not to mention the pain of generalized illnesses, isolation and racial injustice, many rats are nervous. We don’t know exactly what will go wrong in our lives (there are so many possibilities), so why not worry about each deadline and call from Zoom, just to be more prepared?
Well, because it’s exhausting to think that way and it doesn’t help us avoid unemployment or other disasters. The trick for an anxious mouse is to understand that, although it cannot magically transform itself into a cold mouse, it can go to therapy and learn self-calming behaviors – such as meditation and journaling – that will help make work less oppressive. .
Another lesson from anxious mice offers a reminder that simply participating in activities that make us happy can increase the chill, even in the face of stressful circumstances. A 2013 study published in the journal Neuroscience Letters first conditioned mice to associate a certain sound with a mild shock. The researchers then tickled a group of rats (an activity they proved to enjoy) once a day for two weeks before exposing them to the sound, while another group did not get tickled. The study found that tickled mice were less stressed than the control group when they heard the frightening sound – a model, as Scientific American explained, of “how the good things in life can help mitigate the bad”.
So if you are feeling anxious at work, follow the example of mice. Take time in your personal life for the things that tickle you – the positive experiences that protect you from otherwise stressful life scenarios. “Do fun things” may seem like obvious advice, but as anyone who has struggled with anxiety knows, the worse we feel, the harder it can seem to distance ourselves from a stressful situation and do things we really enjoy.
My own tip, as a professional with some anxious tendencies, is to watch the cold rats around you closely, just as a nervous pilot keeps an eye on flight attendants when the plane goes through turbulence. Notice how the CEO’s messages don’t send them into a spiral of panic; how they refuse to be intimidated by the prospect of, say, taking over the position of chef at a famous Parisian restaurant.
By learning from their example, we can begin to question our own fear narratives; ask ourselves: “how would a cold rat react to this situation?” and act accordingly. After all, our brains are more malleable than we think. Genetics aside, there is a cold rat inside all anxious.