Why You Should Stop Saying ‘Good Luck’ Starting Today, Backed by Behavioral Science

I said, “Good luck!” to our grandson before his soccer game, because that’s what you say. Or it’s at least what I tend to say.

But then I thought about Formula 1 driver George Russell, and about how simple phrases, often repeated, can chart larger courses.

Take praise. Say you tended to receive this type of praise when you were a kid:

“Wow, you figured that out so fast. You are so smart!” 
“Wow, you are amazing. You got an A without studying!“

Both sound great, but another message hides inside each statement:

“If you don’t figure things out quickly, you must not be very smart.”
“If you do have to study, you must not be amazing.”

Over time, that type of praise can result in a fixed rather than growth mindset: You assume you are what we are, and that you can’t change who you are. You’re smart. Or not. You’re skilled. Or not. You’re athletic. Or not.

Now say you tended to received this type of praise:

“Wow! I can tell you worked really hard.”
“Wow! I know that wasn’t easy, and I’m proud of you for sticking with it.”

By praising results based on effort, you help foster a growth mindset, one where success or initial failure seems due more to time and application, not innate talent. Luck Matters

Which brings us back to “good luck.”

A study published in Physics and Society found that luck plays an outsize role in exceptional success. In fact, as the researchers write, “almost never do the most talented people reach the highest peaks of success, being overtaken by mediocre but sensibly luckier individuals.”

On the flip side, our culture tends to assign exceptional merit “to people who, at the end of the day, could simply have been luckier than others.”

So, yeah: Luck matters.

But you can only partly “control” luck. Sure, you can benefit from motion. From awareness. From being unique. But you can’t hop out of the car and be lucky.

Nor did you play poorly, or lose a game, because you were unlucky. But Everything Else You Do Matters More

Plus, saying “good luck” often enough can change the recipient’s perspective on achieving goals. A study published in Personality and Individual Differences found that belief in luck is an adaptive cognitive process, one that could cause someone to see events more as outside of rather than within their control.

Which brings me back to George Russell. A couple years ago I ran into the Mercedes driver the morning of the Miami Grand Prix. As I started to walk away, I said, “Good luck.”

Even though he nodded, I could tell the phrase landed wrong. “I guess luck has nothing to do with it,” I said.

“Exactly,” he said, with a much more emphatic nod. “It’s all about how hard you work.” Helpful Encouragement

What could I have said to our grandson before his game? “Have fun!” would have worked, because having fun should be the point of youth sports.

It also works with adults. As I walked onstage to do the keynote at the Arabian Business Awards, the stage manager said, “Have fun!” Fun? I thought. I’m scared to death. Later, I realized he was right. If a sales rep has worked hard on a product demo, try saying, “You’ve put in a ton of work. You’ll be great. Have fun!”

Or what could you say to people when they are about to do something challenging, or when you assign an employee a difficult task? “I know you can pull this off, because you never give up” signals the fact application, and growth–not natural talent–is the foundation of success.

Or you can take a counterintuitive approach and say, “This will be really hard.” A study published in The American Journal of Clinical Nutrition found that clearly describing the difficulties someone will face in achieving a goal can actually increase their level of self-control–and help them persevere when they face setbacks or obstacles. When you expect to face obstacles, finding the resolve to work through those obstacles is often easier.

Whatever you say, leave luck out of it. Even though luck may eventually play a role, you can’t control luck. But you can control how hard you work, and whether you stay the course. And whether you decide–because it is a decision–to have a little fun along the way.