When Britain switched from coal to natural gas in the 1960s, the national suicide rate dropped by over 30%.¹ Prior to the switch, coal gas, which carried a high concentration of carbon monoxide, was piped into most homes across the country. When the country switched to natural gas, a convenient, lethal option disappeared from people’s kitchens.
When Google moved their office M&Ms from clear containers to opaque ones, consumption dropped by more than a pack a week per employee.² Placing water bottles next to food in a hospital cafeteria sent water sales up 25.8% and caused soda sales to drop 11.4%.³ When a company switched its 401(k) from opt-in to opt-out, enrollment among new hires more than doubled—not because the new employees were disciplined savers, but because enrollment was now the path of least resistance.⁴ Each of these studies has confounds, but the overarching theme is clear: environment plays a massive, even decisive role in dictating outcomes.
In my own life, I’ve seen outsized change come from small adjustments to my environment. Inspired by James Clear’s Atomic Habits, I made a habit tracker that drastically increased my consistency at completing habits I’d failed to do for years. For example, I used to wear my retainer sporadically. When I put it on a daily tracker, it quickly became part of my nightly routine and I wear it nearly every day.
When I realized I was spending too much time mindlessly browsing Instagram, I deleted the app from my phone. I’m not any less susceptible to wasting time on the app now—when I redownload it to post something, I still get as sucked in as I ever did—a change to my environment made accessing what fed my bad habit much more difficult.
When I switched jobs from a remote one to one that required being in-office five days a week, I couldn’t help but notice how strongly my experience differed: I could no longer wake up 30 minutes before my first call of the day or waste time in between commitments. I’m not necessarily arguing that in-person work is better in general, but it did make my lazy path harder to take.
None of these solutions required repeated discipline or increased willpower, things we typically associate with self-improvement. Remembering to wear my retainer every night isn’t hard now that I took 15 minutes to create a habit tracker. Resisting wasting time on Instagram isn’t hard now that I took 30 seconds to delete the app. Being more productive and efficient at work isn’t hard: all it takes is showing up to the office.
We tend to treat change like it requires some internal transformation—more willpower, more discipline, a better mindset. But more often, change requires external transformation—altering the circumstances around you to make it easier to accomplish what you want. When Britain switched from coal gas to natural gas and suicides dropped drastically, people didn’t get therapy, develop coping mechanisms, or become less suicidal en masse. A deadly, low-resistance option was no longer in their kitchen, and that was enough.
If you want to change your habits, stop focusing on trying to be a better person and start focusing on trying to create a better environment.
Notes
- Kreitman, N. — British Journal of Preventive & Social Medicine, 1976
- Kang, C. — The Washington Post, 2013
- Thorndike et al. — American Journal of Public Health, 2012
- Madrian, B. C., & Shea, D. F. — The Quarterly Journal of Economics, 2001