Episode Details

In 1970, two psychologists did a very interesting experiment called the "The Good Samaritan experiment".

It was meant to determine whether we're kind other some conditions and oblivious at other times.

What makes us kinder, more generous?

Is there something that's been under our nose all along that we've been missing? Let's find out.

You can read the transcript here: #167:The Incredible Power of Kindness (And Why It Has Nothing To Do With Business)

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A few months ago, my brother in law's house was burgled.

What do you say to someone when their house has been burgled? What do you say when you run into a friend, and you find she's lost her father? We live in a world that's filled with kindness, or else we wouldn't function on a day to day basis.

However, as one writer wrote: We're only one generation away from anarchy. We're all born selfish. Kids hang on to their toys and bawl at the need to control the entire ice-cream stand.

We have to be taught to be kind.

And kindness comes in different forms

It's not just about charity or letting the other driver cut into your lane on the motorway. In today's episode, we go all philosophical, simply because of a book I'd been reading (which I didn't complete, of course). It's a book by Sheryl Sandberg, COO of Facebook.

Sandberg and her husband, David were on vacation to Mexico. David was on the treadmill exercising when he collapsed and died alone. In her book, Option B, she recounts the horror that inhabited her brain at the time of the accident, and for months later.

This episode isn't about business. It's about kindness and its many forms. Let's find out how we can be adults in a world of "kiddy tantrums". And how we can be kind as children, in a world of jaded adulthood.

Here are three things we'll cover. I promise it will change the way you look at kindness from now on.

1) Not asking what we should do, but doing something instead 2) Telling someone how they changed your life and being very specific 3) Slowing down, because kindness can be heavily dependent on how much you slow down.

1: Not asking what we should do, but doing something instead.

In 2010, my father in law; Renuka's father, passed away.

I don't remember much about the day. What I do remember was the act of our friend, Cher Reynolds. Somewhere after the funeral, Cher showed up to the house with muffins. "I baked these muffins", she said. Cher then stayed a while and left. So why did the incident of the muffins stay in my head?

I only realised it when I read Sheryl Sandberg's story.

The difference between Cher and so many people is that Cher left out a question that so many people tend to ask in times of crisis. When there's a disaster, death or sudden misfortune, we feel helpless. And our helplessness shows because we all make a similar sort of statement.

We say: If there's anything we can do to help, please let us know.

On the face of it, such a statement is exceptionally kind. In effect, we're writing a sort of blank cheque. We're saying we'd go completely out of our way to help, no matter what the request.

And yet in its kindness, the statement becomes a bit unkind. It's asking the person who's under enormous stress, to let you know what they need.

The stress is so high that the person is often cut off from reality and can barely function. It's at this point that we misguidedly ask them to "think up a list of what they need". Author Bruce Feiler writes, "that the offer while well-meaning, shifts the obligation to the aggrieved".

Cher didn't ask if she could bring muffins

Instead, she took a decision, made the muffins, drove halfway across town and gave the muffins. In the book Option B, Sandberg talks about her colleague Dan Levy. Levy's son was sick and in hospital. That's when a friend texted Levy with a message that wen