Lose that Hangdog Expression: Optimists Are More Effective Workers

Winslow Homer - Hunting Dogs in Boat (Waiting for the Start)

I read recently about a study into the impact of dogs’ emotional disposition on their efficacy at work. (Rhys Blakely, The Times, 9 April 2025)

A team from the University of Bristol tested 66 sniffer dogs to establish the positivity of their outlook. Dogs were deemed to be ‘optimistic’ if, having encountered a bowl containing food in one location, they anticipated that the same bowl in a different location also contained food. 

The dogs were then set a range of sniffing tests. The optimistic dogs were discovered to be more confident and playful, and consequently more effective in the tasks.

This research tallies with my own experience in the world of work. I found that successful teams are fuelled by optimism. A sunny disposition precipitates curiosity, promotes engagement, forges partnerships. It prompts people to go the extra mile and sustains them through tough times. Indeed, I would go so far as to say: positive people have bigger, better ideas.

'Outside of a dog, a book is a man’s best friend. Inside of a dog it’s too dark to read.’
Groucho Marx

Having said this, the University of Bristol researchers observed that pessimistic dogs do have their value. Downbeat dogs are more cautious when making decisions, and so in the trial they gave fewer ‘false positives’: they were less likely to indicate incorrectly that something smelt suspicious.

We should perhaps conclude that, while high performance teams should for the most part be made up of optimists, they should also contain a few pessimists. The occasional sceptic challenges assumptions, provokes debate and insures against groupthink.

'The optimist thinks this is the best of all possible worlds. The pessimist fears it is true.’
J Robert Oppenheimer

'Black eyed dog, he called at my door.
The black eyed dog, he called for more.
A black eyed dog, he knew my name.
I'm growing old and I want to go home.
I'm growing old and I don't want to know.
I'm growing old and I want to go home.
Black eyed dog, he called at my door.
The black eyed dog, he called for more.’

Nick Drake, 'Black Eyed Dog'

No. 521

Dogs Can Anticipate Incompetence. Can’t We All?

Francisco de Goya,: The Dog (c1820)

'Never tell a fool that he is a fool. All you'll have is an angry fool.’
The Talmud

With his long ears, short attention span and boundless energy, springer spaniel Dillon was very much part of the Carroll household. When he wasn’t chasing birds or his own tail in the back garden, he tended to hang around the kitchen in the hope of scraps from his mistress’s table.

One day, at home alone from school, I decided to prepare myself a Bejam meat pie and baked beans. Though no culinary expert, I felt I was up to the task.

Dillon sat up straight, anticipating opportunity.

I located a meat pie in the chest freezer we kept in the garden shed and promptly popped it in the oven, setting the heat at an approximate level. Then I stirred the beans and set to reading the next chapter of my Graham Greene novel. After some time, alerted by a concerned bark from Dillon, I discovered the pie was beginning to burn on top.

That’ll be well done, I thought. And so I slipped it onto a plate and spooned the beans over - with a little dash of HP sauce for good measure.

As I tucked into my mid-day feast Dillon regarded me with fierce intensity.

Blimey. That’s not what I expected. Though burnt to a crisp on the outside, the Bejam meat pie was still frozen on the inside. I didn’t know that was scientifically possible.

I deposited the unsightly mess in the swing bin. 

Dillon retired to his station under the telly, the look on his forlorn face suggesting he should have expected nothing better.

I read recently that dogs are able to identify stress in humans from their sweat and breath. Indeed new research published in Behavioural Processes has found that canines are capable of recognizing people’s competence at completing certain tasks.

In the first phase of the study scientists arranged for hungry dogs to watch people attempting to open a food container. The conditions were set so that one sample of humans succeeded in the task (‘The Competent’) and another sample failed (‘The Incompetent’).

When the same humans revisited the exercise in the second phase of the test, they were observed by the same dogs. This time the canny canines fixed their gaze on the Competent openers, ignoring the actions of the Incompetent.

The study concluded that dogs can recognize ineptitude and anticipate its reoccurrence. The article also noted that females are particularly good at spotting inadequacy.

I suspect it’s not just dogs that can sense incompetence. As you walk into the room to find half the attendees are running late. As you embark on a discussion without any clarity about the objectives and duration of the session. As you observe the debate running off subject without any moderation. You just know this is going to be a meandering mess of a meeting.

I’m well aware that many executives think meeting hygiene is beneath them. But what some consider cool, the rest of us consider feckless.

'Details make perfection, and perfection is not a detail.’
Leonardo da Vinci

I often advise Planners to address their career in two phases: rigorous youth and then cavalier maturity. My suggestion is that we should employ the first years of work to learn the ABC of business, to assemble the tools of our trade. After that we can afford to be more self-confident and bold; more flamboyant and expressive.

On hearing this recommendation, most people tend to focus on the cavalier element of it. It sounds like fun. But the tedious truth is that successful careers are founded on rigour, reliability, discipline and attention to detail.

Although Dillon regarded me as inept, he was nonetheless happy to accompany me on brisk walks to Haynes Park and beyond. He had the capacity to forgive failure. Which is perhaps another worthwhile leadership lesson.

 

'Maybe I'm a fool
For loving you so.
And maybe I'm a fool,
I don’t really know.
But I can't stop loving you, darling,
Even though I tried.

So if you should decide
To try me once more.
All you got to do is knock on my door,
And I'll say that I've taken you back.
If taking you back would be foolish,
Then maybe I'm a fool.’

Aretha Franklin, ‘Maybe I’m a Fool’ (J. L McFarland)

No. 412