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“Perspective is worth 80 IQ points.”
Alan Kay
We own a large paper shredder. For several weeks, it has not worked well. If I put in one piece of paper, the machine stopped before the paper was shredded, and the indicator light came on that the basket was full.
And so my husband and I tried to solve the problem. We cleaned every scrap of paper out of the shredder teeth. Oiled it. Consulted the manual, which was typical of so many technical manuals. It was no help at all.
Jim finally called the manufacturer to ask what to do. The woman in support told him that the machine has two glass sensors. All we needed to do was to use some alcohol and clean the sensors.
Sounds simple. The only problem was that we couldn’t find the sensors and the manual had no diagram.
Jim did most of the looking for the sensors by lying on his back, with his head inside the empty basket compartment, shining a flashlight upwards.
At this point, I need to tell you that my husband is a kind and gentle person, although he does seem to have his share of masculine reluctance to ask for directions. After much looking without success, he declared that the woman on the phone didn’t know what she was talking about.
Since I wasn’t the one lying on the floor, shining a flashlight upward to hunt for the elusive sensors, I suggested that it might help if he put the unit on its back on the floor, so that he could look from a different perspective, on the theory that the woman in technical support really did know something about the shredder that we didn’t know.
Jim didn’t immediately act on that suggestion. Instead he dismantled the top of the shredder, and analyzed the wiring. He determined that there were two wires going to opposite sides of the shredder, which seemed to indicate that there really was a sensor on each side of the machine.
And so, he laid himself down on his back again, with his head inside the basket compartment, and his flashlight over his head, and continued to shine his flashlight in a futile quest to find the sensors. After a while, I repeated my suggestion that it might be helpful to get a change in perspective, by laying the shredder on the floor on its back.
And so, Jim got up off the floor and together we put the offending shredder on its back. Now, Jim could shine his light down on the unit.
It only took a moment or two before he found the sensors. They are tiny circles of clear glass that blend into the black background. We cleaned them with alcohol, set the shredder on its feet again, plugged it in, and the machine now works perfectly.
There are several life lessons in this little story. It is first of all a story about perspective. If you are stuck, struggling, unable to solve a problem, a change in perspective can make all the difference.
The only real difference between the problem of a shredder with dirty sensors and the solution to the problem was a change in perspective.
And within this little story, there are other life lessons about not asking for help for a long time. Not believing the manufacturer’s representative who had every reason to know what was wrong with the machine.
Part of the fault has to lie with the manufacturer. How hard would it be to put a little diagram within the manual, noting the location of the sensors? How hard would it be to include a sentence or two explaining that sometimes the sensors need to be cleaned with alcohol? How hard would it be to put some sort of identifying marks within the shredder to mark the location of tiny glass sensors that blended into the black frame so well that they were incredibly difficult to see?
But the core issue is: If you need to find a solution to a problem you have not been able to solve, find a way to change your perspective.
By Kalinda Rose Stevenson, Ph.D.
PS. I don’t usually tell stories on my husband, and so I read this story to Jim before posting it online. Jim is as good-natured as he is occasionally stubborn, and so he laughed and suggested that there is an additional life lesson in this story: “Listen to your wife.” Who am I to challenge such wisdom?
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