The Art of Catastrophising

Let me tell you about a terrible evening I had recently. I wanted to tackle the weeds and overgrowth in my newly acquired field, which had been empty for years. The weeds were towering above my head, but I made quite good progress before my quad started smoking and I decided I needed to give it a rest.  

Later, I was recounting my progress to a friend and mentioned the huge weeds that looked like cow parsley, but which weren’t. 

“Oh”, she said. “Are you sure it’s not hemlock.”

Now, for those of you who don’t know, hemlock is one of the most poisonous plants there is; deadly to all mammals, including humans. 

I had no idea if my weeds were hemlock because I had no idea what hemlock looks like., but it turns out hemlock is a bit like giant cow parsley. I know this now, because with feelings of trepidation, I did what anyone would do; I quickly looked it up on Google. 

It was dark outside, but the ominous pictures certainly looked like the stuff I’d seen in my fields and, of course, the internet being the internet, I was soon falling down rabbit holes I’d have been better avoiding. As well as stories of people who’d died from ingesting the stuff (Socrates among them) I read stories about people who’d spent months in hospital and needed heart surgery just from accidentally handling it.

I’d not really handled it, but had I brushed against it, whilst driving through the jungle? 

And how would I get rid of it? Apparently, it could take years.

At 5am, I woke up and had to go and check that I’d really closed the gate to stop the horses getting to the new field. I had of course. 

Thankfully, the morning brought a renewed sense of resilience and new ideas. We would deal with it. Perhaps I could ask a friend to dig it up with his digger (more expense). Perhaps if, after that, I got a local farmer to plough the field, that would help irradicate it.

But first, now that it was light, we needed to identify these plants and confirm the worst. So, gloved and in long trousers, Martin and I set off to the new field, armed with plant identification apps on our phones. (Those things are marvels.) We took pictures from every angle, we cross referenced our apps, we checked against library pictures…

It turns out, our hemlock is actually wild angelica. Wild angelica is apparently good. It’s claimed to have lots of potential health benefits, including:

And here’s the great irony:

Why am I recounting this ridiculous tale of woe?

Because it provides a useful reminder of some important learning points when leading others, or project managing:

It’s great to consider risks and plan for them. It’s important to have contingency plans.

But when we build those risks into false realities based on worst case scenarios and assumptions, those risks can quickly feel overwhelming and insurmountable. That’s bad for our mental health, and because it triggers a fight or flight reaction, our ability to plan rationally and strategically too.

Rather than equipping us to deal with challenges as risk assessment and contingency planning should, catastrophising is debilitating. Things can quickly spiral out of control, as we lose energy, lose optimism, lose hope and lose all confidence in our ability to manage a situation. 

So, whilst I hope my story entertained you (it does me in retrospect), I hope it’s also a useful reminder that when thinking about risk assessment and contingency planning, it might be wise to remember the adage:

Prepare for the worse but hope for the best.

I’d recommend these Trainers’ Library modules:

Until next time…