Did Steve Jobs Eat the Marshmallow?

In the late 1960's and early 1970's, Walter Mischel from Stanford University conducted his famous marshmallow experiment. Groups of four years olds were given a marshmallow and told if they waited for 15 minutes and did not eat the marshmallow, they could have a second one. If they decided to eat it before the grown up came back, they would not get another one. It was a longitudinal study. Mischel followed the children and discovered that those who waited were more successful in life, including generally having higher levels of education, a healthy weight, and higher SAT scores. The children who ate the marshmallow had more problems and engaged in risky behavior, like drinking, taking drugs, or becoming parents as teenagers.

This study has been referenced in two books that I have recently read: How Children Succeed: Grit, Curiosity, and the Hidden Power of Character by Paul Tough and Focus: The Hidden Driver of Excellence by Daniel Goleman. These authors cite the Stanford study of impulse control in their analysis of ways to improve educational outcomes (Tough) and become more functional, efficient and excellent adults* (Goleman). Passing this marshmallow test seems to be a major indicator to success in life. I am sure there are crazy parents out there reading these books, training their preschoolers not to eat the marshmallow. (I bet dessert is lots of fun in those homes. You can have two puddings if you wait 20 minutes. Daddy, set the timer.)

I am sure this study is valid for a vast majority of people and the conclusions are reasonable. Nevertheless, I wonder about the outliers, and at what point does too much impulse control become a bad thing.

First, let's look at too much impulse control. For my test subject, I will consider myself. While I did not take this test as a four year old, I am sure I would NOT have eaten the marshmallow. Ever. I was the type of kid who would save a candy bar until I forgot about it, which is not necessarily a good thing. If I were in the study, I'd probably still be sitting there, looking at the marshmallow. Yet, I would be considered a "success" according to people who interpret the results: I have a college education, I had a good job in my pre-motherhood life, and I am good at saving money.** Ta da.

But look at the carpeting in my house. It's needed to be replaced for years. My husband and I have this circular conversation that ends up nowhere. We want to replace the carpeting with hard wood floors, but are also considering remodeling the house. We don't want to install the new floors if we are going to remodel, but remodeling is a massive undertaking and we'd have to move out for six months.  The cost difference between the two projects is huge. We go around in a circle and then do nothing.  My infinite patience is kind of a problem here. I wish I had a bit less impulse control and a little more "Just Do It."

Now, let's look at an outlier. Did Steve Jobs eat the marshmallow? We can't go back and test Steve as a four year old. My guess is he might have been at an extreme. He might have eaten the marshmallow in the first ten seconds, looked to his mom and said, "I am done. I have better things to do.  Can we go home?" Or, he might have sat for three days looking at the marshmallow, beating it down, proving to the little puffy pile of sugary fluff that he could dominate it. "I am not going to let some little piece of candy defeat me." A third possibility is he could have been philosophical. "Do I really need two marshmallows?  One is enough..." From what I read, Jobs lead a minimalist life. Look at his wardrobe of black turtlenecks and jeans. My husband thinks Jobs would have cut the marshmallow in half. "Now I have two..."

According the Stanford's criteria for an organized life, Steve Jobs was a botch. He dropped out of college and he fathered a child in his early twenties with his girlfriend. My guess is that coming of age in the 1960s and 1970s in northern California, he probably smoked some pot. Wait, let me google that. According to the internet, he did. Given this behavior, my guess is that he probably would have eaten the marshmallow.

If he had eaten the marshmallow, he would have skewed the results. While he would have been consistent with some of the markers like not finishing college, he would have blown away how much money he saved or overall career success.

One outlier (and one that I am fictionalizing as well) does not discount the rest of the data. I'll acknowledge that impulse control is in general good to have. But what about times and places where too much impulse control could be a bad thing? Are there times when we should just carpe the marshmallow? Pretend you are living in the middle ages, hunting a deer. Your family hasn't eaten in days, maybe weeks. You had better think fast and shoot the deer, or else you might never eat. You do not want to wait and hope for two deer. Or what about the doctor or nurse that has to perform CPR You don't want them pondering if you really need CPR when your heart is stopped and you are turning blue. In a pre-industrialized society, perhaps lack of impulse control was good thing. Farmers needed large families, so waiting until they were thirty and stable to have kids might not have been a good thing. Or maybe you just want new flooring in your living room before your kids leave for college.

I am going to take the interpretation of the marshmallow test results with a grain of salt based on my analysis of myself and my fictionalized and speculative analysis of Steve Jobs. He invented the iPhone, iPad and co-founded Pixar. I did not. Which begs questions for future social science research: Are there positive attributes for eating the marshmallow, and what are the downsides for those who waited?

* I am not sure if that is how Daniel Goleman would characterize his book, but that is what I am taking away from it.
** Before we had kids, I asked my husband what he liked best about me. His reply: "Your ability to manage money." He was sincere and serious.