Date: August 11 2012
In England recently, a bus passenger saw a fellow traveller ''of Asian appearance'' pouring liquid into a bag, releasing fumes. Fearing the worst, the passenger called the police and the motorway was shut for four hours as firefighters, armed officers and bomb-disposal units dealt with the threat: a British citizen legally smoking an electronic cigarette.
The London Olympics raised fears of terrorism. But might the caller have saved hours, money and anxiety by calmly observing the ''suspicious activity'' a little longer?
It is difficult to say, even with the luxury of second-hand hindsight. But as Frank Partnoy, a US financial expert, notes in his sharp manifesto, Wait: The Useful Art of Procrastination, people often make false judgments about strangers.
Many American doctors, for example, have a bias against coloured patients. It is neither conscious nor deliberate, but ''you can catch it in a few seconds'' Partnoy writes, ''just by glancing at a face''. The result: black Americans are systematically undertreated.
Taking aim at writer Malcolm Gladwell's Blink, Partnoy argues these mistakes are often caused by haste. While we are capable, as Gladwell argues, of making broad judgments from brief snapshots, we often flub it.
When we get it right, this is usually because of expertise, developed over many years. As with what Aristotle called phronesis, or prudence, this kind of knowledge cannot be reduced to rules and regulations, to be applied quickly and without consideration.
Expertise involves a ''feel for the game''. But if the game changes, even experts become novices - unless they can take stock.
One of Partnoy's persuasive arguments is that timing is vital for mastery. What distinguishes the elite from amateurs is not only technique but also understanding when to use it. Tennis players Jimmy Connors and Chris Evert were masters of returning serve, not because their perception was quicker or clearer than average, but because they took the milliseconds required to examine the ball's approach. Their fast returns, honed by years of practice, gave them precious extra fractions of a second. ''They got fast first,'' Partnoy says, ''in order to go slow later.''
This logic applies to many time scales, such as the years required to invent Post-it notes. What's common, Partnoy says, is a refusal to be rushed into decision or deed.
Haste is most dangerous during stress. Partnoy details the consequences: from bungled comedy (a premature punchline) to bad romance (a feverish first date) and military disaster (firing blind at civilians). Experts can overcome panic with training: they learn to put aside hyperventilating clumsiness or paralysis and enter a ''flow'' state.
This happens, as psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi notes, with surgeons, rock climbers, artists and chess players. But, Partnoy argues, even masters need reminders: slow down and size up the situation. In a trial of eight hospitals, for example, simple checklists in surgery reportedly cut deaths by almost half.
However, many professional mistakes are due to the worship of efficiency - what might be called institutionalised panic. Rapid deadlines, constant intrusions and obsession with the clock can scuttle good work. Forget visions of corporate geniuses guzzling double-shot espressos as they invent cold fusion: the ''real time'' office is often myopic, distracted and depressed, whereas innovation is often slow.
Despite his cheeky subtitle, Partnoy's remedy is not procrastination but the mindful management of time. The best workplaces, he argues, give employees hours to themselves and authority to use them innovatively.
But Partnoy does not have many ''big picture'' answers. This is partly because the problems are wicked: physiological, psychological, social, all intertwined. It is also because his final existential question - are we just animals, or ''something more''? - is largely unanswered, and unanswerable within the framework he provides. But the chief message of Wait is wise, timely and well argued: simply wait.
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