Optimism isn't naive – pessimism is just the easy option

2026-08-30  Productivity

During Chelsea’s opening match of the season against Fulham, Cole Palmer went on a hypnotic run, finding space that seemingly didn’t exist between two defenders. His shot bounced wide of goal, and a goal kick was awarded.

Illustration of Cole Palmer dribbling past Fulham defenders
Palmer looked to have his swagger back in Chelsea's season opener

But Palmer didn’t take the decision lightly. He was adamant that his strike clipped a defender’s leg, and demanded a corner kick. “Classic footballer,” you might think. “They’ll do anything to get ahead.” But watching Palmer protest to the linesman, I couldn’t doubt him. He seemed absolutely convinced that his shot was on target and was deflected out of play.

What Palmer demonstrated was relentless optimism – an endless belief in your own abilities, that everything will work out if you just believe it.

Against my nature

I should make it clear here that I’m a natural pessimist. I’m prone to worry, and I have to consciously stop myself from catastrophising. Working in a risk management field, imagining worst-case scenarios and striving to stop them occurring or mitigate their impact has served me well in my career.

But a leadership course I attended recently got me thinking. The instructor described optimism as a crucial leadership quality. He framed it in terms of team management – if you respond well to hardship, your team will, too. But the more I considered it, the more I realised that even on a personal level, only relentless optimism makes sense. There’s rarely any benefit to being downbeat or focusing on the worst possible outcome in a given scenario.

There's rarely any benefit to being downbeat or focusing on the worst possible outcome.

If Cole Palmer believed he missed the target, he’d have no chance of winning a corner for his team. But more importantly, he’d lower his estimation of his own abilities. With his belief dented, perhaps he’d be less ambitious next time he got the ball and pass backwards rather than finding space for a shot. The damage to his confidence levels would reduce his chances of scoring.

Likewise, if I’m nervous about a big presentation at work, how does it benefit me to worry about failure? If I worry it’ll go wrong, I might get nervous going in, stammer over my words, or overthink things to the point I freeze entirely. On the other hand, if I go in believing I’ll smash it out of the park, I’ll have more natural confidence, and even if I make an error I’ll be more likely to laugh it off and move past it without believing it reflects on me personally.

Relentless optimism in the field

Since giving this some thought, I’ve attempted to fight my personal nature and stay relentlessly optimistic at times I otherwise might have worried.

This week’s upcoming Field Notes newsletter discusses some issues I recently navigated in my personal life. I could have worried and cursed our luck – and I did, to some degree – but there was no point. I needed to do what I could, accept fate, and trust that things would work out okay. Did that mindset fix anything more quickly? No, but it meant I was less stressed along the way.

Likewise, I took a professional exam a couple of weeks ago (GIAC Security Operations Manager, for any cyber security nerds out there). It was the kind of multiple-choice test where multiple answers sound plausible but you need to pick the best. After a shaky first few questions, I lacked confidence in my answers and started to worry about my prospects. But I tried to stay positive and assume I was correct – believing I’d answered incorrectly would only throw me off my game, and in probability terms, each question was a fresh start. I stayed optimistic, kept going, and passed with a score of 89 percent.

Laying the groundwork

There are limits to optimism, of course. Simply believing everything will go your way is a great de-stressor, but the effect will only be temporary if you walk blindly into life’s challenges only for everything to fall apart.

You need to apply care, do the work, and be prepared. Cole Palmer puts hours into training, and I entered the exam having studied for weeks to gather a reliable set of notes. All of that preparation should aid your optimism – feeling ready naturally reinforces your belief that you’ll do well.

How much preparation is enough? I think that comes down to the odds and risk associated with a particular challenge. Palmer could ask for a corner without a second thought because there was no downside – a goal kick had already been awarded. His relentless optimism came at little risk.

The appropriate level of preparation depends on the odds and risk associated with a challenge. Once you're ready, further worry won't help.

Passing my exam, on the other hand, required skills and knowledge I needed to build. Failure would mean admitting it to my colleagues and grovelling to my boss for the $899 resit fee – so it was worth investing the time to make sure the odds were stacked as far as possible in my favour.

But if you’ve done a proportional amount of preparation – trained for the big game, studied for the exam, or practiced your presentation – know when to stop. Beyond that point, if you find yourself worrying, recognise that it gives no tactical advantage at all, and redirect your thoughts somewhere positive.

Societal optimism

Pessimism is the prevalent trend in society. Reading the news, you’d get the impression that to be optimistic is to be blissfully ignorant, unaware of the world’s problems. Pessimism has an allure – it’s enlightened, intelligent. It has become a virtue to extol how screwed up everything is these days.

To me though, that’s understanding without care. The pessimists recognise the problems, but either can’t think of solutions or believe that pointing out the issues will be easier and more profitable than working on one. Pessimism is a selfish act in that sense – a chance to show how smart you are without putting your neck on the line with any ideas of your own.

The world needs more optimists, and I believe care is an act of optimism. To care about what you do is to believe it’s worth doing right, even if it might be more immediately profitable to cut corners or take the easy route. You can take the extra time to plant seeds for the long term, because you don’t need to squeeze every drop of return you can now – down the line, the resulting tree will be of greater benefit to both you and the wider world.

As for Cole Palmer and his limitless self-belief, at the time of writing he’s scored two goals in two Premier League games, and Chelsea fans will hope he carries his current form, confidence, and optimism well into the new season.

Care about what you do — even when nobody's watching

Care about what you do — even when nobody's watching

To build a quality product and a better world, care about what you do and it's hard to go wrong

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