While experts such as Petroski labor to dissect the dynamics of failure, the rest of us know that human disasters are innately fascinating. "There is a certain staring-at-the-car-wreck aspect to the curiosity people have about failure," notes Jason Zasky. "And there may be some Schadenfreude, you know, a pleasurable feeling people get over someone else's disaster. But mostly there's this realization that some people who have great failures ultimately succeed. It doesn't always happen. But we see that people fail because they are willing to take risks, and those are the people who often achieve something."
Zasky should know. In July 2000 he founded an Internet-based magazine called Failure, which publishes articles on debacles as well-known as the Edsel and as obscure as the Jadis, a hybrid tea rose that was a commercial flop because people didn't like the name. After early struggles, Failuremag.com became one of those rarities in cyberspace: a Web site that didn't fail, and even became profitable. Its success reflects a certain respect for the subject of failure and, perhaps, a new sophistication about the phenomenon itself.
"I don't think we're like Japan, where failure is always a dirty word," Zasky says. "Here people sometimes see it almost as a matter of pride, that they at least tried. And I think there's a fascination with how some people fail, but don't give up, and the next time really succeed."
This phenomenon, of the failure who resurrects himself in spectacular fashion, was formally documented in 1938. German psychologist Sara Jucknat reported that people who fail at something they deem vital to their identity will often set an even higher goal the next time. Their hope is that they can erase the failure with an impressive success. Along the way they prove to themselves, and perhaps the outside world, that they are, in fact, competent.
Though Jucknat's seminal study made the dynamics of success and failure a hot topic for a decade or so, interest cooled. It was revived in the 1970s and '80s by researchers who preferred to study human strengths rather than pathologies. Martin Seligman is a psychologist at the University of Pennsylvania and a pioneer in studying how people cope successfully with adversity. His writings on "learned optimism" became classics in this field and inspired dozens of academics to begin looking at the positive qualities that help certain people rise above hard times. They found that those who turn failure into advantage share a handful of characteristics:
They possess the analytical skills to take apart a fiasco and understand it well enough to make changes, says George Vaillant, director of the Study of Adult Development at Harvard Medical School. Vaillant has seen people develop this trait and use it to create successes, even late in life.
They have "the capacity to form meaningful relationships," Vaillant says. "These people can metabolize others-taking in what they have to teach-rather than being oblivious. These are the ones who find mentors throughout their lives. They have the ability to find meaning in what happens to them."
They also have the ability to be realistic, rather than undyingly optimistic, in the face of crises. Business management guru James Collins, author of the recent best-selling book "Good to Great," says this point was brought home vividly during an interview he conducted with a Vietnam War prisoner, a retired naval officer. Realists succeed under the worst conditions, the officer said, while optimists "died of broken hearts."
As with every aspect of human behavior, genetics and environment-nature and nurture-play significant roles. Indeed, children seem to develop what psychologist Salvatore Maddi calls "hardiness" at a very early age. Maddi, a professor at UC Irvine, conducted a pioneering study of this trait, following 450 middle managers at Illinois Bell Telephone through the upheaval that came with deregulation of their industry. Many lost their jobs.
"Two-thirds of the sample fell apart," Maddi says. "There was violence, strokes, suicides, depression. But one-third not only survived, but thrived." Among those who did well, Maddi found a great many had been raised in more stressful family conditions and had endured more hardships. "They had also been nominated as the 'hope of the future for the family,' and they had accepted the role."