SEtalk: The Hidden Gift of a Near Miss

Who do you think is happier: the silver medallist or the bronze? Most people say silver, which seems perfectly logical. Yet in a famous 1995 study, the bronze medallists looked happier! Silver means you almost won, and bronze means you nearly got nothing. I'd argue that a near miss is worth more than it feels. Twelve years ago, I applied for my first big research grant. I'd spent eight months on the application, and I felt confident. I missed the cut-off by a single point, and I was crushed. What hurt most wasn't the rejection itself, but how close I'd come. For a week, I seriously considered leaving science, and I nearly did. Years later, I found a study that made me rethink that week. Researchers at Northwestern looked at young scientists applying for major grants. They compared those who'd only just missed out with those who'd only just made it. Understandably, some near misses gave up, and they left science for good. But those who stayed went on to publish more highly cited work than the narrow winners did over the next ten years! You might assume the weaker scientists had simply dropped out. The researchers suspected that too, but even when they allowed for it, the gap remained. What doesn't kill you, it seems, may genuinely make you stronger. In 2016, a Princeton professor named Johannes Haushofer did something unusual. He published a CV listing every job and award he hadn't got. It went viral, and he joked that it outshone all his actual research! Were more of us to share our failures, we'd feel far less alone. We only ever see each other's successes, so we assume our own setbacks are unusual. As for me, I rewrote that application, and I sent it again. A year later, it was funded, and it shaped my entire career! The more openly I talk about it, the less it stings. I now keep my own CV of failures, and it's growing nicely. Next time you fall just short, resist the urge to hide it. Write it down, share it, and ask what it can teach you. A near miss isn't the end of the story. Often, it's the beginning of a better one. Thank you.