As an aerial coach in NYC, I often bemoan one common experience with my fellow teachers: why is it that the students with the most to learn are the same ones who think they’re ready to join Cirque du Soleil in 2020? Why is it that the students who consistently make the worst safety choices are the least likely to take a rigging or aerial safety workshop? Conversely, I’ve seen it time and again: the students who sign up for the technique class? You guessed it. They’re ones who need it the least (meanwhile, Tessie Terrible Technique is sending casting submissions to 7 Fingers). “What the hell is that?!”, we wonder. That, dear friends, is the Dunning-Kruger Effect.

M’Kay…. What is the Dunning-Kruger Effect?

The Dunning-Kruger Effect is a phenomenon in which people with a little bit of knowledge or skill think they know more or have more skill than they do.

Sound familiar? It should, because it’s crazy common. When we look to our peers to evaluate our own performance we are most often wrong – sometimes a lot wrong. Low skill performers tend to grossly overestimate their performance or skills, while high skill performers tend to slightly underestimate.

Newbies don’t know all the things they don’t know.

Remember when you were 16 years old and supremely confident that you could drive a car like Danica Patrick? Do you look back and cringe just a little because oh sweet LORD you were a terrible driver and could have taken somebody out at any second? Even if you were a spectacular teen driver (….), I’ll bet there’s at least one thing you can look back on and admit that maybe – just maybe – you weren’t the hot shizzle you thought you were. Novices will often:

• overestimate their level of skill
• fail to recognize skill in others
• fail to recognize the magnitude of their ignorance
• NOT respond well to feedback that they need to improve
• look back and cringe once they’ve learned and improved (we’ve ALL been there)

The problem is that the skills needed for proficiency are the same skills needed to recognize proficiency in others. D’oh! This is why it sometimes goes so poorly when you try to tell someone why their rigging – using fishing line on a rotten tree over a cliff – is a terrible idea (“Shut up! You don’t know me! You don’t know what I know! That is the strongest mono-filament money can buy, I’ve hung on it like 4 times, and no one ELSE has had a problem with it!”)

Highly skilled performers tend to do the opposite – they are now at the top of the mountain, and often don’t believe they’ve accomplished anything particularly spectacular. In fact, they tend to underestimate their true ability, and sometimes can’t imagine why you’re having so much trouble (this is why great performers don’t automatically make great coaches).

Look around and you’ll see the Dunning-Kruger effect everywhere – driving, politics, chess, and yes – circus. Interestingly enough, in circus, I’ve observed that the Dunning-Kruger Effect flares up not in the very beginning when the student still has a healthy respect for the work, but after they have been training for a while and *know* a few things. Then – THEN – they get what my grandmother used to call “a little too big for their britches”. Sometimes, they’re coming to me from another coach who let them get away with the worst technique on the planet and blew sunshine up their butt for months on end; when they find themselves getting corrected on basic climbs and inversions, whoa Nelly! It’s party time. Sometimes a student has done a few showcases, or is the best in a particular class. They start thinking they’re Really Something, and le sigh… the student mindset goes out the window and is replaced with an ego demon.

Why Does This Matter, Anyway?

We’ve been having good discussions on risk assessment. Accurately evaluating your abilities in circus can be a matter of life or death – believing you are much more capable than you actually are can be deadly. All you have to do is google “Darwin Awards” for folks who made Very Poor Choices and paid the ultimate price. In circus, even a marginally poor choice can mean the difference between a smart, safe progression and one that results in injury. Circus CAN be safely taught and performed, and developing the skill of self-assessment is your most powerful safety tool.

So, How do We Accurately Self-Assess?

Self assessment is a skill that can be learned. You’ll never be perfect at it (hello, bias), but you can get a whole lot better than you are now. Here’s how.

• DO: Use measurable standards when pursuing your goal (example: hips high on an inversion – closer to your hands than your elbows). This is your top tool – use it often.
• DON’T: Use your peers as your yardstick.
• DO: Debate and discuss. Any coach worth their salt can give you the “why” behind corrections. Do you have a different take? That’s OK! Discuss it respectfully, and everyone benefits from a deeper understanding.
• DON’T: Assume it’s personal. Really try to understand where your coach is coming from with corrections.
• DO: Assemble a team of trusted experts. In my world, I look to industry leaders in circus PT, general fitness, aerial arts, flexibility, etc. There are SO MANY folks who have SO MUCH amazing knowledge and different perspectives – what incredible resources! Pursue knowledge like your hair is on fire.
• DON’T: Assume you know all there is to know. Remember – you could be wrong about anything and everything. Go where the research takes you!
• DO: Solicit feedback! And then listen to it. And say thank you (even when you don’t want to).
• DON’T: Be afraid of feedback! Feedback is how you get goooood. When you get some, don’t ignore it or argue with it.
• DO: Break goals into sub-tasks. Research has shown again and again that sub-tasks help to break the illusion that we know All The Things.
• DON’T: Make sweeping claims about your abilities. Example: “I’m amazing at performing!” (NOPE!) Instead, try looking at all the different aspects of performing and looking at how to improve each one: skills, technique, choreography, audience interaction, concept, costumes, music selection, etc. You’re never done, my loves. Welcome to performing arts.
• DO: Proceed with caution. Risk aversion (and risk assessment) can be learned!
• DON’T: Assume you’re immortal, or that nothing bad will ever happen because nothing bad has ever happened before.
• DO: Encourage your peers and classmates.
• DON’T: Assume that because something came easily for you that it should for someone else.

We can learn to be more accurate! We NEED to learn to be more accurate. We don’t take classes and perform in a bubble – incidents affect us all. Instead of rejoicing in what you know, focus on all the exciting things you have yet to learn. Embrace beginners mind. Think things though. Be careful. Be spectacular. Love and pull-ups, Laura