I’m punching my zip code into a keypad and as I press each key, it vibrates gently below my finger.

0 *vibrate* – 4 *vibrate* – 2 *vibrate* – 1 …

On ‘1’, nothing happens. So I press it again. Still, nothing. I look up at the screen and, to my surprise, see “04211.”

Both 1’s went through. It wasn’t the button that was broken, it was the haptic feedback mechanism tied to the button.

I sigh, hit ‘clear’, and start the whole process over.

On one hand, haptic feedback doesn’t do anything. It doesn’t impact the actual input, it’s merely reassurance. 

And as Seth Godin points out in The Practice:

“Reassurance is futile. The reason is simple: we need an infinite amount of reassurance, delivered daily, to build up our confidence. There will never be enough. Instead of seeking reassurance and buttressing it with worry, we could make the choice to go back to work instead.”

In other words, you’ll never get the reassurance you need, because there’s always something new to do, that you’ll need to be reassured about. Instead, you can learn to trust your self.

It’s great in theory, but in practice it’s pretty difficult to implement.

Can you really avoid reassurance?

Let’s imagine you rid yourself of the need for reassurance, like Seth suggests. Now, suppose you’re working on a project and your colleague tells you, “It’s great!” Then your boss tells you, “It’s great!” And then you send it to the client and… crickets.

How do you feel?

You feel unsure, unsettled, uneasy. Not because you needed the reassurance in the first place, but because 2 people gave it to you and the 3rd didn’t.

It’s the inconsistency that throws us off, not the need itself. For all you know, the client loved it. They were thrilled, and that’s why you never heard anything. Because, like everywhere else, most people don’t leave positive reviews. They only think to mention something when they’re upset.

What’s the solution to this?

My friend and mentor Michael Kent, a nationally award-winning comedy magician who earned international acclaim on Penn & Teller’s Fool Us, told an incredible story on my podcast. Here it is, edited for brevity:

“Early in my career. I was asked to perform for the president of a big company, and I was a little nervous. I did the best magic trick for him and his executives around him that I could. He signs a playing card, which ends up folded up into a little square in the toe of my shoe. When I unfolded it, he took the card, turned away from me, and continued a conversation with his executive. As if I wasn’t even there.

I was shattered, because this was the one person in this whole room that I wanted to connect with, the one person that I wanted to leave talking about me and my act. And I just blew my shot with the best thing I know how to do.

So I continued to perform for the other people that night, and was incredibly dejected. I just wrote it off. Maybe he hates magic. Maybe he was embarrassed. I’m trying to go through all of the rationalizations in my head.

Two years later the same company hired me back and that same CEO was there. He comes up to me, grabs me by the shoulder, calls me by name. “Michael, I wanna show you something.” Pulls out his wallet. He’s got that damn card from two years ago in his wallet. He said, “I tell people about that trick all the time.””

The input worked, but the feedback mechanism failed. Michael took a huge lesson away from that experience, that he’s carried with him ever since:

“I could be making an impact on someone and have no clue, because I don’t know how you react to things. But I never discount a quiet audience because of this. I try not to judge any single reaction of magic, or any person based on their reaction, because it could be just that they don’t know how to react.”

People don’t react the way you think or hope they will. Some people dole out affirmations like they’re candy. Others reserve positive feedback for rare, exceptional circumstances. 

Personally, I think Seth is right, sort of. Reassurance IS futile, in the sense that you’ll always need more of it. But it’s also unavoidable. So the real trick is learning how to accept it gracefully when you receive it, and trusting your self when you don’t. 

Instead of just “avoid reassurance,” I think I’d say, “avoid expecting reassurance.”

Listen to my entire conversation with Michael Kent for many more insightful stories here: