It was my last set of collections before Prelims, and I was writing an essay on dopamine. (You’ll be intimately familiar with this neuromodulator even if you don’t study experimental psychology, provided you’ve consumed and incurred sufficient online ‘brainrot’ over the summer.) In citing the paper which pioneered our understanding of the crowd-favourite chemical, I thought it would be nice to name its now-infamous author in full. So I did, chronicling in my very first sentence the “discovery of the reward signal by Howard Schultz”. There was only one problem: Howard Schultz did not discover how dopamine works. Howard Schultz, rather, is the former CEO who created modern-day Starbucks; clearly, his name had infiltrated my mind that day – perhaps due to my morning beverage. And my tutor, as a friend, close colleague, and former postdoc (for eight years!) of Dr. Wolfram Schultz, knew the difference, believe it or not. The introduction of my collection essay thus contained just one simple – yet stinging – comment: “Please get it right.” Oh, and one more thing: my tutor told Wolfram of the embarrassing mix-up. Ouch.
In three or four years of tutorials, classes, and exams, you will make mistakes. Now, unless in your previous life you were a politician trading on the stock market, I recognise that this concept won’t be new to you. Studying at Oxford, however, you are stereotypically likely to be called out on these mistakes – even the small, seemingly inconsequential ones. Of course, my mix-up of the Schultzes was more funny than anything else, but it’s not uncommon that feedback is far harsher, and sometimes even personal, so it can be easy to take such ‘destructive criticism’ to heart. (This is especially true for those who’ve been accustomed to a steady stream of academic and extracurricular praise for the majority of their formative years.) Thus, I want to share three simple steps I’ve begun to learn from two years of mistakes in Oxford, both big and small.
(1) Acknowledge. If the mistake affects others, apologise too, genuinely and succinctly. Even if you don’t think the mistake is Earth-shattering, acknowledging your error assures your fellow human(s) that you care, and haven’t dismissed what they clearly felt – whether rightly or not – was important enough to point out. (2) Learn. Mistakes are, quite literally, how we learn. In fact, it was Wolfram Schultz’s work which uncovered that our dopamine neurons encode a learning signal based on the difference between expectation and reality, which then helps update our memory and optimise future behaviour. When you make a mistake, use the resulting emotions to help prevent you from repeating said mistake. In the countless essays on the topic of dopamine and reward since my first year, I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that I have never again forgotten Wolfram Schultz’s name. (3) Laugh. We’re not on Earth for a very long time – enjoy the ride! Laugh at yourself. Laugh at the situation. About a year after my collection mix-up, I would find myself in contact with Wolfram, and I revealed to him my identity as the undergraduate who mistook him for the mastermind behind Starbucks. Wolfram’s reaction? He too simply laughed: “Yes, I am not Howard Schultz, as far as I remember…”
Laughing also helps you be kind to yourself, a final lesson which will remain invaluable as you overcome mistakes not only in the academic realm at Oxford, but in career and personal pursuits far beyond the ring road. Whether you’re a medical student who’s just been told by their lab instructor they’re “bound for general practice” (a real story I heard last year), you’ve just fumbled your final McKinsey interview, or you’ve dropped the ball with the love of your life, always treat yourself compassionately as you get back on your feet. You’re not alone, and to make one mistake – or even a hundred – doesn’t doom you to eternal failure; to make mistakes in an inevitable fact of the human condition. Even Albert Einstein, whose face populates any image search for ‘genius’, made his lion’s share of mistakes! Take one example: the woman with whom he first visited Oxford, in 1919, was his second wife Elsa, on whom he was not only cheating with his secretary, but who was also his first cousin (born an Einstein) and a mistress from his first marriage. On mistakes, the ‘genius’ had this to say: show me a man who has never made a mistake, and I will show you one who has never tried anything. Happy Michaelmas, friends.
