#1015 - Alain de Botton - 16 Lessons from The School Of Life

"Where do you think self-esteem comes from?" Gosh, I wish we knew. I think the first thing to say is a bit of a mystery. If we knew how to bottle this stuff, you know, if you look at the differences between what human beings achieve, it isn't easily explained by intelligence. Everything shows that, that broadly speaking, you know, intelligence accounts for the smaller portion of the massive differences in achievement and that's galling. It's, it isn't what the school system is really about. And I think, you know, a lot of achievement is about imagination and it's about breaking through obstacles to dreaming of a better world, a more interesting world, et cetera. Self-esteem is somewhere in that story because I think self-esteem is about saying, it might happen with me. This thing could be, I could be in charge of this thing, whatever it is. And I think class plays a role here. One of the great injuries of a working class background is that it tends to give you a sense that other people are controlling the world and you have to negotiate the obstacles they put in place but you don't get to remove those obstacles. You just have to work your way around them. Typical middle class upbringing, middle class in the UK sense. You know, you get imbued with a feeling that human beings like you make the world and that raises your self-esteem. You know, traditionally, it's an enormous difference to, you know, if your uncle happens to be, you know, the guy in the civil service who does whatever and you're slightly annoying, second cousin, you know, works in the treasurer or something. This changes your sense of reality because you think, well, of course I can do something because look at those, not that impressive people who I once saw around the kitchen at Central. So a lot about self-esteem is thinking, how do I stack up next to other people? Is the world shaped by gods or broadly speaking by people like you and I? I know we're in a religious place and you must be seeming godly to the audience. But the good thing is you're not. And I think, you know, that's one of the good things about modern technology is that it's helped to show the world that those, because it's given a very granular close-up sense of people in so-called positions of power or authority, et cetera. And that's helped to kind of imaginatively level the imaginative playing field in a way. Say you feel closer to them. You feel closer to them, you see that, you know, they're humans too. And that can be inspiring. There was an incident that a friend had when recording a podcast, which I needed a name for and we've come to call it a yogit lid moment. So he was setting down to record with a very famous author and he's idolized this guy for a very long time and you know, titan of literature setting down his camera team or all setting everything up and he's in the guest house and the guest says, would you mind if I went and got a yogit? And it's up with your house, your yogit, please continue. The guest walks away, goes to the fridge, and opens it up, gets a yogit out, sits down, opposite my friend, everyone's still podding around. And my friend sat opposite this guy that he'd revered for decades, you know, just saw as this sort of untouchable, demmy god, watched him look at the yogit, take the lid off, put it up to his face and then lick the lid of the yogit. And he said, at that moment, the veils fell from my eyes and I saw him as the fallible human that's, and it's that, the yogit lit moment, this sort of weird mortal trip. Think of the way that we're introduced to life, really. You know, we start off very small and we're surrounded by very large people who seem to know how to do extraordinary things. You know, they can throw a ball over a tree, they can, you know, they know how to speak a foreign language, they can do very complicated maths, et cetera, and we are tiny. And it takes such a long time to think, actually these gods, these colossi are just human. So, you know, the, the number one sort of class differentiator is childhood, as it were, because we all start in this very subordinate class, which is the child, and we look up to the adult. I mean, think of those times when, I don't know if you had this, but, you know, you're at school and then it's the weekend and you go to the shops and suddenly you see the French teacher in the aisles of the shop and you think, what's that person doing there? You know, there's Mr. Gregory, he's, he's buying cereal and you think, that guy is just, you know, it comes back to your yoga point. It's, that guy's human. And, and we're always catching up with that idea. X or Y is human, and isn't it interesting? That very basic thought is still always a bit of a surprise. We're always on the back foot with that insight. Why is that related to self-esteem? Why is self-esteem not contained within our own system? Well, it grows because we've got this very unfortunate thing that we know ourselves from the inside and we know other people only from what they choose to tell us. And so we've got this massive imbalance of data and we are so weird to ourselves and so embarrassing and so flawed. And anyone with a modicum of self-awareness is going to have, if they're honest, should have a slightly hard time tolerating themselves. 'Cause the stuff that goes on in our minds, the stuff that goes on in our minds is, you know, if it was published, I mean, we'd all be, you know, excommunicated immediately. That's not a sign necessarily that we're so degenerate. It's just a sign that we're having still a very hard time admitting what it is to be human at an interpersonal level. We're still, despite all these ways we have of sharing data, it's still a sort of surprise. I mean, you know what it's like in a relationship or a close friendship when, you know, later tonight, you're able to go to your new pal, I was like, you know, do you ever have that thing when? And they go, yeah, yeah, yeah, that thing. No one's ever mentioned it. No, you know, there's still a societal silence. And then the intimacy that grows from being able to say, we're a bit weird. Now, the truth is, we're a bit weird like everybody else, but there is still an imbalance of knowledge and a sense, I mean, you know that thing where kids say things like, my family's so weird. Other people's families are so normal, you know, I went to Billy's family. They're, you know, his mum's really normal. Why, why are you so weird? And then of course, in time you realize, Billy's family's not normal. You just don't know them. You know, we don't know other people as well as we know ourselves. And so we tend to think that those close to us are a bit more mad than anybody else. We go, you know, my mum's, she's really mad or my ex are really mad. I mean, this goes on in the dating world, relationship world, where, you know, men will go, women, so crazy. You know, women are really crazy. And then, you know, in a female camp, women are going, oh man, they're just really, you know, and you want to go, look guys, it's both, it's everybody. It's not men, it's not women, it's not the young, it's not the oldest, it's everybody close up. It's just that we often have the privilege of not knowing people close up enough and therefore we still retain illusions. You know, you get this in travel, right? People go, oh, the Greeks. Well, they're really, they're better than us. You know, we've got all these thoughts on, the Americans, they have a certain whatever. And then, 'cause once you're inside that society, you go, nah, it's the same everywhere. But anyway, we've got to have illusions and bless us. So the closer the people get to you, the more you see their flaws, but unfortunately, no one is ever going to be as close to you as you are. And you have this huge asymmetry, a million to one, of the bit rate of data that you're able to see of yourself and the vacillations, the self-doubt, as you ping pong back and forth. Should I go, I don't know if I should go and buy that? I don't know if I should get the pair of shoes, I should get the pair, I'm not gonna get the pair of shoes. You know, I might do, and you go to sleep, and you think, I spent last night staying awake, wondering about whether or not I was going to buy a pair of shoes, I'm insane. I must be committed, not knowing that that is the sort of thought that even you wouldn't tell your spouse, I didn't sleep well last night. Why, I was thinking about this pair of shoes. It's so mundane and boring that you don't even share that sort of thing. The other thing is, from the inside, it's very hard to know who you are. And one of the interesting things is how people go a bit mad when they've spent too long alone. If you spend a long time alone, you sort of, you don't know, certain thoughts go a little too far. And one of the great things about company, you know, why do we need other people? Just to be able to kind of hold this slightly in check in small ways and large, they kind of go, "No, that thought is getting a little too extreme," whatever they define us. But also, the other thing that people help us to do, other people is give us a compact sense of who we are, that eludes us. So I see you and I go, "There's Chris." Now, when you're alone, you don't think, "Oh, Chris, you just think I'm consciousness in the universe. I'm just, you know, I'm just a giant net that's capturing thoughts and impressions." You don't know that you have a name, a beginning, a middle or an end, et cetera. And when we're in company, people go, "Oh, you're that guy who does this?" Or, you know, you've, so other people's caricatured vision of us is actually quite helpful to us. Because you think, "Oh, you know, I'm that relatively simple soul that unifies us, gives us a sense of story." - Yeah. - And also because, you know, if I look at you, you look unified, you only got two eyes and nose, and mouth, you know, you're relatively compact, but inside you, you don't feel any of that, it's a vast, shapeless landscape. Is this, is self-esteem related to imposter syndrome? I think imposter syndrome was already something that I was seeing a lot of. And now I'm seeing more about increasingly this sense that the world expects something of me that maybe I've even actually done previously, but I'm scared about whether or not I'm going to be able to deliver it. - Look, I think it's, I know imposter syndrome causes people problems, but I'm reassured if somebody suffers from imposter syndrome. It's a sign of honesty. It's a sign of self-awareness. Of course it has its extreme versions, which, you know, causes people a lot of pain. But if someone is aware that they might be a charlatan or might be pulling off a confidence trick, that's honesty, that's great. That's a, that's a starting point. You know, it's just like somebody who knows they might be evil is a good person, you know. Evil people don't worry, they might be evil. So it's, you know, you're likely to be authentic and genuine. If sometimes you think, am I a fake? That's a good sign. - It's a good starting point in the same way as identifying that you're a bad driver is a good starting point, so not driving fast. But it doesn't necessarily make you better on the roads. So where do we go to? Where is becoming a better drive? Okay, my imposter syndrome, thank you, Alan. You've told me that I'm not so up my own ass that I can't see my own flaws, hooray. What about starting to work through that what about starting to get a better sense of our own capacities and capabilities? - Look, a lot of it is bouncing against the world and testing yourself against reality. It's very hard to know your talents until you've had to go at something. And I think we all have this sense sometimes that some things come more easily to us than to others. I don't know how great tennis players start, but they must have a sense. Oh, I was able to hit that ball and that worked quite well. A great writer, I was able to think, I was able to pull off quite a nice little sentence there. And that's the beginning of a kind of growing confidence. And you need that kind of start. And, you know, I think a good life doesn't require you to do everything. It requires you to do the things that you feel you're capable of and that you're especially good at. It's no humiliation for me that I can't play tennis, for example, if somebody goes, you know, your terribleness, because there's, I don't sense a talent, but I do sense talent in that tiny area of assembling words. That's the area that, you know, but maths I can't do, you know, architecture I can't really do, et cetera, so many things I can't do. So it's about finding those little sweet spots. And one of the great puzzles in life is, how do people find their vocation? How do people find their core identity, their talents? And I sometimes think of it as, it's like you're passing a metal detector over the ground. And very occasionally something will let off a little beep, a beep of intensity, of interest, of heightened thoughtfulness. And you think there's a fragment here below the ground of my true self, now my true self was shattered or it came in disassembled form, it's buried, it's scattered over a vast area. And the task of life is to recreate it from hints. And I think that, you know, one of the great challenges, I mean, I think one of the big, big challenges and it happens to every young person is what should I do with my life? It's one of, it's one of these central questions, a philosophy in a way, because unless you're a very rare person, you will have to assemble a vision of your future. It's not going to come ready made and there won't be a voice from the sky going, you know, you are an accountant or you are downhill skier. It's going to be something you have to assemble. And you'll assemble it in bits. You'll have to recreate the original statue of you that was shattered a long time ago and that lies across a vast area. So like an archaeologist of the self, you have to build that out and you have to build it out out of the little beeps of interest. And I think a good thing there is envy. People speak very, very low and embarrassed way about envy. And you're not supposed to feel envy. I think very often when you feel a beep of envy, it's because there's a fragment of your true ambition and your true self in the life of another person. And rather than going, oh, I must run away from it, go, no, this is a clue. What is there that you are envious of? And often envy is a very inaccurate emotion. We envy the whole of someone. When actually it tends to be a part of them that we want. And so we go, I'm envious of that singer, actor, business person, et cetera. And you want to go hang on, hang on, it won't be the whole thing. Drill into it. What really is core here? And you might want to say, it's actually not their fame, their money, so it's that they work with their hands or it's that they live in a log cabin somewhere far away from other people or whatever it is. So the best thing to do with envy is to see it as a guide for your own ambition, not a sign of your innate jealousy and inadequacy. It's a clue. I always think about envy as the only one of the seven deadly sins that doesn't feel good. Remind me of the other? Seven deadly sins, gluttony. Gluttony, sloth. Sloth doesn't feel good. You don't think sloth feels good? You've not spent a good Sunday afternoon watching some horrible TV show. But think of the self-discuss that sloth often brings. You're lying on the sofa and you know that you're scrolling Instagram and you know that your better self is being eroded. And so there's guilty sloth. Good sloth and guilty sloth. Yeah, interesting. You've probably heard me talk about element before. Come on. 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That's how confident they are that you'll love it. Plus, they are for free shipping in the US. And right now, you can get a free sample pack of elements most popular flavors with your first purchase by going to the link in the description below. We're heading to drinklmt.com/monom wisdom. That's drinklmt.com/monom wisdom. The imposter syndrome thing, I think, when it gets turned up too high, especially with low self-esteem, can turn into this sort of very loud, critical inner voice, this sort of self-hatred thing. I wonder whether there's better ways, given that we're already quite critical of ourselves, everybody is. How do you come to think about handling external criticism? You're an adult now. You're a big boy. Maybe this is in your professional life. Maybe it's a personal comment on the way that you showed up at dinner. Maybe it's, and yet, at least in my experience, there are very few people who are psychologically healthy and still able to cope with criticism about something they care about in a way that doesn't really hurt. So how do you think about dealing with criticism? Look, I think one of the most calling things is criticism when it's warranted, when you have actually made a mistake. And one of the most awful things about being human is that you're constantly hurting others. We are constantly hurting others in small ways and large, often through stupidity, exhaustion, our remindedness, et cetera. And then if we're moral people, and most of us are, it then hurts. It hurts that we have hurt someone. How do we move on from that? How do we not sink into a hole? How can we live to see another day? We need to forgive ourselves for the sake of ourselves and those who depend on us. And this is where broadly speaking friendship comes in. We need trusted others in whom we can confide. And we're sitting in this religious space. Confession has a long history. We need to be able to confess to a loving audience that can say, I know that you have done bad, but your heart is good. And that's a complex maneuver of the mind. It can also something difficult to do in solitude or solo. I think we can't do it solo. We can't do it solo. I think this is one of the reasons why solitude is very challenging because we simply cannot bring to ourselves that the self-compassion that we need to keep going. And we are social creatures. If we began well in childhood, someone will have looked at us through the eyes of love. And to look at someone through the eyes of love is to see that though they may have done ill, they mean well. And it sounds simple, but it's all of life is in there. And of course, then to be able to pull off that maneuver for other people. It's no coincidence that the great religions all circle this. They all circle this business of confession, forgiveness, charity to others. I don't mean financial charity, though, as a role. But it's really charity of spirit. It's something we desperately need, a very bad at, and yet without it, society soon gums up. We can't go on. And we can't provide it to ourselves, which is why it's so important. You need to be told that it's important for you to do it to other people because there's this odd sort of co-philanthropy that's occurring. I am going to pay into the pot. And you are going to pay into the pot. And everybody is going to withdraw from the pot. Into this sort of the council tax, I suppose, of human goodness. Yeah, that's beautiful. And many of us are lonely. I mean, this is one of the great secrets of life that we don't have enough of these people. We're surrounded by people. But how many of those are really the people who, in the middle of the night, at crisis moment, is going to be able to deliver that kind of broadly. We could call it reassurance, a confessional ear, and a sense of that we are worthy of forgiveness. Do you think this is a challenge that particularly men face this having someone that is a sympathetic ear, the troubles of being tied up in your fragile male ego, et cetera, male friendships and male support seems to be a tough thing, tough needle thread. It's a really tough needle to thread. I think that being a man comes with all sorts of challenges, but one of them is that masculinity is presented as a kind of achievement. You know how boys taunt each other in the school playground and they'll go, "You're a girl." As though there's a kind of slippery slope. The top of the slope is manhood, and then the bottom is girlhood. And if you're not careful, you'll become a girl again, as it were. There's a sort of sense of when you were a baby, and that's the other taunt, baby. When you were a baby, you were in the feminine camp, and then through effort, you became a man. But that achievement is precarious. So men are always feeling the precarity of their identity, and that's a very unstable business. Look, I think the best men are those who've been broken by life and have pulled through have come out the other end. Why? Because they've been forced by circumstances to drop the illusion of their strength and power. They've known that they couldn't keep that going. They've hit rock bottom, and they've had to reach out and say, "I can't cope. I am an infantile position, help me." Men become rather glorious when that's happened to them, because that's when there's true humanity, empathy, etc. But Subtummen, they never get there. It's posture, posture, posture, it's defensive posture, all the way. I can spot them in my lower way. The men who've been broken, what did they look like? You just sense that there's a modesty, deep down there's a modesty, and you just feel, I think people give off, I've noticed it, a sense of how much you could tell them and how much they'd be able to bear. Often it's picked up little things, people say, "How was your weekend? Is it great? Was it good?" You go, "Oh, wow." That person really needs my weekend to have gone well, because they didn't have much space, my weekend to have gone badly. Someone goes, "How was your weekend?" They're space in that, they're space in that, you feel the space. They're like, "Oh, I might have been crying on the bathroom floor. That could happen. I might have wanted to take my life on Saturday, but on Sunday, things cheered up." There's room for the extremity of what it is to be human, and those are the people you want to watch out for. I've read an article a couple of weeks ago, talking about how lots of men say there needs to be more room for men to open up about their emotions. We should have that in the real world, and when the rubber meets the road, personally for them, a lot of the time, guys still struggle to receive weakness and vulnerability from other men. They're saying, "I want the world to be able to accept my vulnerability whilst not really being that comfortable with accepting it from other people myself." I don't think that there's many asymmetries, and women have got it bad in some ways and men have got it bad in others, but I think this is a particular asymmetry that men deal with more, that I think women are good at doing the nurturing thing, especially to other women. They're bad at doing the nurturing thing, generally, especially to other men. There are already enough challenges of men opening up to women. How am I going to be seen? My fragile masculinity will be shattered. Maybe she'll tell her friends, or maybe it's my partner, as she won't be attracted to me anymore. I just think that was, I'd never seen it put that way previously, that guys want to be able to be vulnerable, and yet when they see other male vulnerability, it makes them very, very uncomfortable. They'll quote tweet it online, mocking it, or they won't reach out in the way that's needed, and a couple of the reasons that will put forward are, well, maybe it highlights where you might be weak, too. This is somebody being vulnerable, and that throws into sharp contrast the fact that, "Hey, guess what? You've got vulnerabilities as well." It's a part of this, a little bit of an evolutionary psychology explanation, that we have coalitions, we go out hunting, and a guy that's not that strong and stoic might not be a great coalitional partner. What if we get to the end of the hunt and he can't be bothered to turn around and go back? Many, many other reasons, but yeah, I think that's an angle that guys, especially guys who want to be integrated to transcend and include in Wilburian language, you know, you should take a good look in the mirror in not just being able to talk about your emotions, but in paying into the pot, right? Not just withdrawing from the taxes, but also, "Hey, I'm going to be here, and I'm going to be here even to people maybe that I don't know." This random guy on the internet is opposed to saying, "Ha, ha, ha. This person's. " He's going, "Ha, this person was really hurting, and fuck, if I was hurting, I'd probably want someone to be there for me, so maybe I should try and do the same for them, despite not knowing them." I think you're bullying, you know, it's a strange word, and it's an embarrassing word, but it exists, you know, the impulse to bully the weak. What is it? I mean, anyone who's been through school, which is everybody, knows about it, right? Which is, you see somebody who's, you know, the typical target for bullying is somebody in a school whose life seems softer, more indulged than yours. They still seem stuck at a, in a way, to privilege level, you know, their mother picks them biscuits or packs their teddy bear in their school bag or whatever it is. And you think, hang on a minute, I've had to be tough, I've had to grow up, I've had to, I've not been indulged, and I'm going to, I'm going to punish in another person, not just the weakness, but the privilege, the emotional privilege that I see, they, they get to, they get to walk around thinking that it's okay to be a bit weak and a bit soft, well, that's not okay for me, so I, I resent this privilege, and I'm going to make sure that their life gets a bit miserable, and that's how you end up bullying. And you know, a parent's bully their children, I mean, this is great taboo, but they do. It's a real challenge for a parent to see somebody having a life that's softer than one they had, and there's a real impulse to say hang on, you know, I, I resent you for your, your privilege, not, not emotion, not financial, emotional, emotional privilege. What, why do you get to be indulged in a way I wasn't? It's very hard to bear that asymmetry. How do people overcome that? Let's say that you are a parent, and you did grow up in a household that was perhaps not as emotionally forgiving as it should have been, you didn't feel quite as supported, and I imagine this, this is a really complex emotion to feel, which is my favourite ones. I grew up in a household that didn't have room for my emotions. I did a lot of self work in order to be able to understand that, and then try and wipe that slime off me so that I can give a better life to my kids. My kids come along, they start to have this better life, and somehow in seeing the better life that I designed and tried to overcome in order to be able to make happen, resentment has now come in, and now I feel shame at my resentment, and I feel bitterness at my shame about my resentment, and anxiety about my bitterness about my shame about my resentment, with this infinite regress of emotions, that you made happen in a positive way, congratulations, hooray, you overcame this, you were a circuit breaker in this sort of weird, you know, cereal of string lights, and you feel bad about it. I mean, I'm laughing, right, because this is where we're hitting kind of the tragedy of being human, which is you try so hard to get it right, and you're trying to get this right, and something else goes wrong. And I mean, you know, we do need a warm, rich laughter, this is not merely the icing on the cake, it is one of the great solutions. I mean, we're juggling here with the incompatibilities of, you know, raising children. It's maddening. If you avoid one problem, you set off another one. I think that, yes, so look, I think we do so much work on ourselves, and still we're at square one. There's an old Jewish saying, man thinks God laughs, in other words, you know, we're thinking that we can master something, we can master a problem, it's so difficult, but I want to talk about, I want to think about sadism, because we're talking about bullying, it's really weird words, sadisms, what is that, you think maybe it's a sex king, or it's something that really weird people, all of us carry a sadistic impulse, I want to say, impulse, in other words, an impulse to turn our own suffering into a desire to punish, or give suffering to another person. It always comes from pain in ourselves, and we want to pass it on, and you see low level, low level, minuscule, very hard to observe sadism in daily life, in all sorts of areas, you see, in relationships, you know, people are sadistic to their partners, you know, again, if they were angels, they would be weeping, as they looked at human nature, and what are we doing to ourselves and to each other, but there's an economy of suffering, all meanness is inherited, all impulse to be mean, is coming down the generations from somebody else, and we keep playing past the puzzle with our suffering, we go, "Oh look, I've got some suffering, oh, do you want some, because I'm just going to make me feel better." And that's how we end up, you know, that guy stole my foot, so I'm going to take their eye, oh that person hacked off my left finger, well, I'll chop off their ear, and then, you know, I'll take a side of their skull, and on and on and on it goes. I remember you saying a marker of good parenting is that your children don't have any wish to be famous. Yes, there might be a few exceptions to that rule, but I think the outsize desire to shine in the eyes of strangers, to be known by people you don't know is a sign of pathology, I believe, and we're sitting here, you and I. In front of lots of cameras. In front of lots of, lots of strangers, so something's gone wrong for us, I mean, and it's so basic, I don't know enough about your childhood, I know a bit about mine, you will have felt invisible. I mean, why become a little bit more visible than everybody else? If you don't carry within you, a deep sense of having been invisible and unheard is then not a natural pull for that generally that's kind of written into the source code of humans. Oh, I suppose actually, yes, there is, and it's everybody else, and the fact that you are an outlier within that suggests that you are different, okay, I've answered my own question, thank you. Yeah, so I think there's a compensatory business going on, and I think the ability to have a so called ordinary life is a massive achievement. It's, if you want to put it this way, an exceptional achievement. It's like, it's like comedians, you know, people who have an outsized need to make others laugh are almost always children who were facing something not funny at all that they needed to find a way through. They learned to make jokes because there was something pretty sad around that they learned to manage, and in all of these, you know, when, when dealing with those people, or those sort of people are listening now, you know, the response should always be, what, how did the way in which I grew up figure as a solution to a problem that I was facing? And therefore, could I now, whatever age you're at, cut myself some slack and try something else? I needed to laugh in order to be tolerated. What would it mean to be serious? I needed to be famous in order to survive. What would it mean to think about obscurity, or indeed, I needed to be painfully modest and always underperform in order not to spark jealousy? What happens if I tried something different? You know, these are the major sort of break points, turning points in a life when you think the things I needed to do to get me through childhood are now hampering my possibilities in adulthood. This, the situations that required that behavior are no longer in existence. But in order to do that, you have to see the pattern that you would, that you were set by your childhood. Mark Marin, comedian, says, "The monster I created to protect the child inside of me is difficult to manage." Beautiful. Love it. This episode is brought to you by Momentus. Trust really is everything when it comes to supplements. A lot of brands may say that their top quality, but very few can actually prove it, which is why I partnered with Momentus. They make the highest quality supplements on the planet. 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And check out that's 35% off livemomentus.com/modemism and modern wisdom and check out. Stata's anxiety kind of related to that, you know, this need to be seen. Look at me. Hello, I'm here. I mentioned before because we are recording in a church or an old church at the moment that just by chance, you might have decided to wear your flowing robes today, unfortunately not. But that desire, look at me, look at how special I am, look at how impressive I am. This anxiety is going to be there, I think, no matter how enlightened you are. I want to feel like I'm needed by the people respected and admired by people I admire. That's a pretty big one. Is there a good way to deal with- is there a healthy way to deal with status and status anxiety? As far as you mentioned, churches, I mean, the really helpful thing about religions is that they tend to tell their believers that someone really knows them and really cares about them and is looking at them. And if you think about the impulse to be rich and famous and esteemed, it's really a desire that gets soaked up by religions. Religions are saying everybody, you know, in Christianity, every hair on your head is numbered. In other words, someone's really looking at you. Someone knows you in the way that a parent, a good parent knows a child. The great thing about early childhood in a good and loving family is that child is a superstar. They come in, they sing a song, everyone claps, they're happy in the morning, it's like the little prince has arrived, the princess is doing a pirouette, etc. That doesn't make a child entitled. Entitlement comes from deprivation. The ability to absorb an ordinary life comes from early emotional privilege. If the child is able to be the center of the universe, in the early years, they will be able to accept without too much psychological damage, a subsidiary position in adult life. That the need to be always at the center and always important is a compensation. It's not a sign of health. And therefore a good childhood is connected up with the ability to give your child that charge of specialness so that then they can go on to do that much more important thing, just to be ordinary, to accept ordinaryness, just a massive challenge. All of us are in the end ultimately ordinary, and that's okay. And to not feel shame and not feel shame. And to accept that there are limits on your power, you will need to die, you will accept your finitude. I wrote a little essay about shame, I wanted to read to you, and that's okay. I've been thinking about the shame of simple pleasures. This is a quote from a friend, "I have not yet grown wise enough to deeply enjoy simple things." We are all terrible accountants of our own joy. Most of us only accept deposits when the transaction is sufficiently large. The day we get married, the night we play the main stage at Glastonbury, the moment the business sells for a hundred million dollars, anything less, and the entry doesn't even make the ledger. We treat small pleasures like counterfeit currency. Oh, that thing made your day, that small moment made your week, how feeble, how desperate, how limited your life must be, to be thrilled by something so unimpressive. We must not have a lot going on. We roll our eyes at the tiny events that others get excited at, as though joy must be proportionate to scale, and yet life is made up of little things, exactly like this. Not once in a while, but always, your life is constructed out of moments so small they wouldn't even register as an event on anyone's calendar. So why can't something small be something great? Well, sometimes I feel things more deeply than I should do, including the shame at feeling things more deeply than I should do, also including the shame of being delighted by little things more than I think I should, as if taking pleasure in something tiny reveals the smallness of my life. But perhaps, that's exactly backward. Maybe the true richness of a life is how much joy you can harvest from the smallest possible patch of soil, and here's the payoff. When you lower the threshold for joy, you don't just get more of it, you get it now. Who is truly the more impressive person, the one who requires a huge cathedral of bullshit, unfair and galactic accomplishments in order to get the slightest figure of pleasure, like some masochist as a sex party demanding car batteries get clamped onto his nipples before he even gets started, or the person who can do it with a good coffee in a fresh breeze. I love it. Chris, it makes me think that we're incredibly easily led in our sense of what matters in life. We're really bad judges, independent judges, of significance. So if somebody says, you know, that artwork on the wall, that's really expensive, that's really famous, that used to belong to a king or a queen, we think, "Oh, where's Marvelous?" And if we don't know who the painter was, who the artist was, what it is, we think, "Oh, that can't be any good." So it's almost comedic, isn't it, how supine and dumb we are in deciding for ourselves, what matters. So you do get this in culture, if a book wins a prize, everybody decides that book's amazing, before it won the prize, everybody thought was boring, and the book hasn't changed. I often think about this in terms, I'm a great fan of flying, I love flying, and I wouldn't have guessed that about you. Love it. And I love the technology, I love all sorts of things, the beauty, aesthetic, anything. I'm always struck by the way in which flying has nowadays very low prestige in the world, compared, let's say, to art. So if you say to somebody, "I'm going to gallery, and I'm going to look at some pictures," and I'm going to go, "Oh, that's very, you know, noble thing to do." I'm going to take a flight, and on the flight, I'm going to open the window, and I'm going to look at the clouds, and I'm going to really delight in them, and I'm going to marvel at them, and I'm going to think, "Oh, my goodness, this is better than any painting by Leonardo or Pusar or whatever. This is just striking, right? People would think, "You're making a big deal of it, shut that window, but I'm trying to watch a film." So it's not that prestigious to look out the window, and that's just a tiny example of how bad we are at finding significance by ourselves. I think this is true creativity. True creativity is when you have a sense that your pleasure could be legitimate wherever it lies. So if you happen to like pebbles, go for it, you know, that's your pleasure, or if you like the way that sunlight hits a window blind or concrete, that's going to be the thing for you. And I think it's that small children have it more naturally, that's what makes small children delightful to bad adults. You know what it is? If you take a small child to a park, it's hilarious. You can't even get to the swings because they would have stopped. The child would have stopped, maybe by a wall, or they'll have noticed, you know, a piece of chewing gum in a rock, and you think, "I'm looking at it," and you could come on, let's go to the swing, and they don't want to go to the swing, because they've just got a tuft of grass growing out of a concrete ledge or whatever it is. They are independent arbiters of significance. By 15, they're like, "Well, what a drake like," or what, you know, "What's X telling me to allow?" They've outsourced their sense of taste. Exactly. And that's so tedious. I mean, bless them, everybody does it. But ideally, by the time you get to full maturity, you become a bit weirder once more. And that's what makes certain adults really delightful. They go, "Doesn't matter what everybody thinks. For me, I'm liking this thing. I sometimes think about it in terms of entertaining. I don't know how much entertaining you do. When people say, "I'm going to give a din part. I'm going to invite some friends for dinner." They get into such a mess thinking, "How am I going to organize this dinner?" They go, "Oh, I must have a starter, and maybe it's a melon." And, or maybe it's, I don't know, prawns or something. And then, I must have this thing called a main course, which might be chicken or something. And then they go, "Oh, I've got a dessert," and they're just overflowing with anxiety, etc. And if you are said to them, what do you actually enjoy? If it's supper time, what do you. And they might go, "Well, I like opening a can of tuna, putting it on the table, getting some hummus, dipping that, putting my feet up," and you thought, "Okay, why don't you just do that with your mates? Why don't you just drop the pretence? Have the courage to think what's touching me might touch another person." And your dinner party's going to be a lot more fun. This is ultimately, of course, what great artists do. Great artists have a sense that what's fun for them, what's meaningful for them, will probably be meaningful for other people even though right now there's quite a lot of silence about that area. So they're kind of. They've got a faith that we started from that self-esteem. They've got a faith that the things that turn them on are likely to turn other people on as well. And that's a beautiful confidence, and that's what leads to great art. Art is really the courage to define the pleasure for yourself. It's lovely quote from Emerson. He says, "In the minds of geniuses, we find our own neglected thoughts." In the minds of geniuses, we find our own neglected thoughts. In other words, geniuses, so-called geniuses don't have thoughts that are completely different from those of other people. What they do is they take the thoughts that we all have and they give them the significance they deserve, some of them, some of those thoughts. And so that's why when you pick up a really great book, often you think, "Wow, I've always thought that, but I've never known how to say it," and really what we mean is, "I've never had the courage to give that thought it's due because I'm lacking self-esteem." There is a really sort of wonderful blend between bone-headed self-belief, which is kind of rebellious, it feels a bit spiky, sort of a "not that," and a much more sort of warm cozy sensation, which is, "I like what I like and I like myself for liking it." Does that make sense? There is this rejection of entropy outside and this sort of containment of structure inside. And immediately I'm thinking about the background that would have made the second version possible. You're imagining a parent who says, "Do that thing that you like doing." That's fine. You can be slightly weird, and we don't think that's weird here. You can just pursue your own pleasure in a non-brittle way. As you say, it's a gentle acknowledgement of your individuality. We are in a place that's got some pretty wonderful, is stained glass art, is that class as art? Let's play really loose with the concept of art. Art is anything that, you know, excites us, it seems beautiful. You often talk about art, in a lot of your books, you have images of different paintings, of different sculptures, stuff like that. How can people become better at appreciating art, the white belts at looking at a gallery, and they want to have a better appreciation of it? They feel like there's something that they're missing, they don't understand, they don't know the story of where this painter came from, or where they were at at that point in life. One thought is, people tend to think, in order to be a decent person who likes art, I've got to like everything. I've got to go into a museum, and I've got to just delight in everything. Think about it in music. People are much sainer when it comes to music, when it comes to visual arts. People really hang up on the visual arts, and I always say, take your cue for music. You know when you like something musically, and you don't care that there's loads and loads of other stuff that doesn't touch you. You don't mind. You like what you like. You make your own playlist, so make your own playlist of the artist that touch you. And it might be 3% of the art that's produced by the world, and it might be not any of the famous names. The famous names are on the whole, chosen by all sorts of bizarre ways, and find your own way to things that delight you. Have the courage. Also, when walking through a museum, you can't eat it all at once. I mean, these museums are bizarre, they're like archives of everything that's happened over a thousand years, and you're supposed to kind of spend an afternoon and like it. Oh, it's just, we can't absorb it, we can't metabolise it. And so I always think, you know, go to a museum, if you find two things that you'd like to ideally nick and put in your house, it's good going, be very personal. People are really normal in a museum gift shop. You know, when they get to a museum gift shop, they're like, right, what postcard shall I buy? And they're thinking, that's the way to love art. It's like, what car should I send my granny? That's the beginning of art appreciation, because it's like, what do I like? What might they like? Go for it. All the rest is nonsense. You don't need to get caught up to it. I wonder what the differences between music, I completely agree. I'm very unequivocating about the stuff that I like in music. And yet, when I go and if I imagine myself sitting in front of a painting, sort of furtively be looking to either side to work out, oh, this is very melancholy, this must be a melancholy. I'll be somber. This will be, that's the way to do it. And I wonder what it is about the medium that makes it a little bit more difficult, a little bit more hard to define your own taste. There's an ancient Greek myth about the origins of painting. There was apparently a shepherd boy who was in love with the shepherd girl. And the shepherd girl was going to go away. And that night, on their last night together, they were in a cave and there was a shadow on the cave wall of the shepherd girl and the shepherd boy took up a piece of chalk and traced the outline of the shepherd girl's form. And that's supposed to be, there are lots of paintings of this, the origin of art. In other words, the impulse to make art comes when something precious is going to vanish. An art could be thought of as a bucket in which you preserve something valuable. And we need art because we can't hold it all in our own fingers. We can't absorb it all. And so we outsource it to something that can stabilise it and hold it for it. That's the impasse to picture. You know, when you go to a beautiful place and you go, I like it. There's always a fear of loss and you think I'm going to lose it so I must take a picture of it. Same thing goes on in art. And so the art that you love is almost always the art that contains within it a bit of your true home, your true happiness that is in danger of slipping away. And it's going to be different for everybody. I think one of the most interesting questions is why you touched by the art that touches you. It tends to be because that art captures something that the person doesn't have enough of a secure hold on and they need to preserve it. So for example, I love calm art. I love beautiful empty spaces, linearity, dignity of form, etc. I love it. Is my life like that? No. That's not where I live. I live in chaos. But I love that because that's my true home, but I'm not there often enough. So it's a memento. It's saying, come back to this place. Where you need to be in order to be your true self. Good news. AG1 just released their next gen formula. It is a more advanced clinically backed version of the product that I've been drinking every day for years. So you still get the same one scoop ritual, but now with an even more thoughtful formulation flavor and four clinical trials behind it. AG1 has been evolving since 2010 continuously improving alongside the latest research in AG1 next gen is the result clinically shown to helpful comment nutrient gaps and support gut health, even in people who already eat well. In one study, it boosted healthy bacteria in the gut by 10 times. And if you're still unsure, they've got a 90 day money back guarantee. So you can buy it and try it for three months. If you don't like it, they'll give you your money back. Right now you can get a year's free supply of vitamin D3, K2 and 5 free AG1 travel packs plus the 90 day money back guarantee by going to the link in the description below or heading to drink AG1 dot com slash modern wisdom that's drink AG1 dot com slash modern wisdom. You mentioned chaos there. Do you think that humans have always been plagued by the need to keep themselves busy or is this a as much as hustle and grind culture as much of a modern phenomena as YouTube essays would have us believe. I think it's very hard to sit with yourself a bit cause there's panic about what you might discover. You know, one of the fascinating things is, why are we so easily distracted? Why can't we sit with our thoughts? The reason is that there's so much about our thoughts that is mixed up with sadness, regret, fear, etc. And it takes courage. It literally takes courage, which is why the best places to think are often those where there's a little bit of distraction and a possibility for introspection. Have you got any places that you do that yourself? Trains. I mean, we think we invented railways to go from London to Manchester or New York to Philadelphia. We didn't. We invented them as places to think because in a half-empty carriage, what better place than to get to know not the destination but yourself that you're looking out of the window and there's enough distraction from the telegraph poles going by or the birds overhead. There's enough to kind of take your imagination, you know, to kind of tether the more anxious sides of you, but there's also enough encouragement to keep going and keep making, you know, discoveries. It's really hard to think when thinking is all you're meant to do. And if you want to terrify somebody, put them in a blank room and give them a sheet of paper and go write out who you are and what you're really concerned about, you know, that's panic inducing. Because if you're somebody, you know, why do our best thoughts come to us in the shower? You're not supposed to be thinking in the shower, you're just, your mind is let loose from an agenda. That's when the good thought comes through. Good thoughts are charged with anxiety. Everything is an anxious process and so we need to give ourselves a little bit of comfort. That's why people often like to work in a cafe. It's like the reason is, there's a lot of bustle around. That bustle's absorbing the nervous energy and allows sometimes a good thought to come through. I think much better if I have a pen in my hands and from 18 years of full-time education, you know, just sitting in lectures and class and twirling a pen through my fingers. You're right. I was off just that additional bit for me. My favorite place for thinking is doing the washing up dishes. Because you're not supposed to be doing the thinking and also dishes are so amazing because you go from real mess to real tidiness in three and a half seconds. It's so quick and the problem with the modern world is that so many of the things we want to do take so long and you know, the great thing about pre-industrial world is that we used to be able to achieve things within a handy time scale. You know, you ran a bakery and in the morning you had the flour and you put it together and the yeast and then it had risen and then you sell it and then, you know, on and on it goes and in a 24 hour cycle, you've gone through the whole thing. Nowadays, most people work in organizations, a thousand, two thousand people. They're working on projects that will take years to come to fruition. I just want to say, why do people love sports? Again, sports take place within a concentrated time period. Football match is 90 minutes. Within 90 minutes, there will be an objective, a goal of victory, defeat, etc. It's manageable. Most of us have lives in which the pitch is 8,000 kilometers long. The game takes 20 years, you know, there's 25 balls, there's 18 goal posts, you don't know what's going on, you lose the thread of your own life and of the game that you're meant to be playing. Which is why so many of us have crises where we think, hang on a minute, what am I supposed to be doing? We're within complex organizations that deny us that clarity of the earlier pre-industrial world. What is an existential crisis, in your opinion? I mean, it's a word that, it's a word that sometimes people reach when they feel that the building blocks of their life have ceased to make sense, that for all sorts of reasons, the place they find themselves in no longer feels like it makes sense anymore, you might have a sense of, why am I in this relationship, why am I in this job, why do I live in the country I live in, etc. And existential crises are good things, we should have them, they are positive things, they often happen on a Sunday evening. Sunday evening is that moment in the week when there's a gap to question, why am I me, what's this assumption that I have about what I should be doing? And to regularly submit yourself to a complete existential audit, as it were, to go, could I be someone totally different, is it all gone wrong, etc. That's a sign that you're questioning, person, don't get me wrong, it's terrifying, it's terrifying to feel that most of what we're doing is slightly arbitrary, there is no necessity, we tell ourselves, well, I have to do this and I have to be here and, you know, the existential insight is, no, you don't, we're all completely free, we could be doing other things, the necessity is one that we're putting on ourselves, but that's dizzying, I mean, that's existential vertigo. Oh, we think, oh my god, I've got so much possibility that I don't know where to start. And going back to the busyness, the hustle and grind, when the base level of noise is very loud, it's very hard to hear, there's more subtle whispers of fleeting thoughts as my therapist talks about, pay attention to fleeting thoughts, but fleeting thoughts will easily get drowned out if you've got a ton of really loud, fast moving ones, like, oh, I must get that project finished before tomorrow and I have all of these emails to do and it's very busy, I must get, the gym's going to be haunted because it does road works on the street outside of my house. I love the idea of fleeting thoughts that, you know, what do we mean? We mean thoughts that are on the outer perimeter of consciousness that have some clue as to what we should be doing next in all sorts of areas, they're kind of that metal detector again. Yeah. The carrying hints, suggestions, but they're hard to reach because again, they're, they're to do with learning and we don't like learning, learning's really difficult because it throws into question how we are, how we've been doing things and to be able, I mean, there should be classes on this, you know, how to land your fleeting thoughts, Plato had this idea that thinking was like an aviary in which birds are flying around all the time and the philosophical challenges to land those birds and be able to study them, but most of the time they're whizzing in and out and so they're not just fleeting thoughts, they're racing thoughts and to be able to still things enough, I sometimes think a very basic exercise to lie down in bed and ask yourself, what am I really feeling? What's really going on? I know, I know what's supposedly going on, but what am I feeling behind the feeling? What's the feeling behind the feeling? And to be able to make that hierarchy of the surface and the depths and to realize that there's likely to be something going on in the depths all the time, that's a bit different, an anxiety of sadness, a worry, a desire for tenderness, whatever it is, if you can be somebody who gives space to the fleeting thoughts, you're going to become a much richer human being and remember the old adage, we can only go so far with other people as we've gone with ourselves. We can only be interesting to other people insofar as we've paid attention to the more neglected bits of ourselves and one of the weird bits of social life is, some people make you feel quite boring and other people make you feel really interesting, isn't that a weird thing? Why is that? The people who make you feel boring are people who haven't opened many doors in themselves and you pick it up instantly and so therefore when they go, what was your weekend like? You go, I don't know, because suddenly you realize there's nothing that I could say that's meaningful about my weekend that they would understand because they haven't gone into those more interesting bits, whereas if somebody's giving off that vibe of, I've opened many doors in myself, well, I have so much to say to them, I feel safe in doing the same, but also you'll feel understood, I mean, let's say podcasting, why are some people good podcasters? Why can some people get stuff out of people and other people can't, and it's fascinating, and we've become use in the modern world to very high quality podcasts because the people who have famous podcasts are generally those who can really do it, but why can they do it? Is it because they can ask good question, nah, it's not that, it's because they've gone far in themselves, the interlocutor feels it and then they go deep in themselves. So, the reason I'm babbling with you and I can have tons to say to you is because I know, and I don't know intellectually, I just know in a sensory way that you've gone very far in all sorts of ways, and I think I could tell this guy anything and he'd go, yeah, and that gives encouragement, so that fascinating distinction, someone who makes you feel interesting and someone who makes you feel boring, it's the other person that's doing the work even though, they may be hardly saying anything is in the eyes, in the twitch of the mouth, it's all there. I adore that idea. I took inspiration from that video of yours and kind inverse charisma. Some people are interesting, some people make us feel interesting, and a lot of the time, especially young guys, they want their stories to be electric and they're aura to be magnetic and they walk into a room and for everybody to feel impressed, but when I thought about the sort of people that I like spending my time around the most, there wasn't necessarily the ones that were the most impressive. I went walk into a room and I'd be very happy to see them, but nobody else might notice, and I would try my very best to sit next to them at dinner because I knew that that would be the most sort of fruitful ground. Have you ever heard that story about Jenny Jerome, Winston Churchill's mother? So she went, she was a little bit of a starlet type socialite, and she got to go for dinner with Benjamin Disraeli and William Gladstone on consecutive nights separately. And she said, "When I finished dinner with Disraeli, I felt like it was the smartest man in all of England." When she finished dinner with William Gladstone, she said, "I left that dinner feeling like I was the smartest woman," and some people are interesting, some people make you feel interesting. But you know, it's really important to say this is not flattery. When someone makes you feel interesting, it's not that they're flattering, that's amazing. It's not that they genuinely unleash an interest which is actually in you. You know what I mean? It's not a contract. People are interesting, but they need an audience to release that interest. It's not mere flattery. It's opening doors in the other person on the basis that you've opened doors in yourself. I'm interested in the temptation to intellectualize emotions, you know, you were talking before, the sort of "why" beneath the "why" and getting below the neck as it's known in embodiment, okay? Fantastic. We have this very developed. It was that philosopher that talked about being a philosopher is like being a mouse with a huge oversized ear on its back. You know, you have this one particular thing that you've grown to, monstrous size. And anybody that is smart can do the work, but doing the work is just turning feelings into theories. And I wonder, I'm interested in this temptation of how to overcome intellectualizing emotions as opposed to actually sitting and feeling them. Look, what's wrong with intellectualizing? Intellectualizing gets a bad name because at some point it ceases to have an accurate relationship to reality. So in other words, your theory has left behind, you know, the facts. Your map is no longer mapping the territory accurately. That's what's wrong with it. It's nothing wrong with having a map, but there's something very wrong with having a misguided map. And I think when we say intellectualizing is bad, it's when it gives us a rather rigid description of the territory, which no longer sees the actual full complexity of the terrain. It's aiming. It's purporting to represent. And so what do we need to do? We need to constantly check our maps against the territory. In other words, we need to think, okay, I've got this nice neat theory. Maybe I need to blow it up because it's liable to go in a bit stale. I need to, you know, I need to head out, head out, back into the world and assume I know nothing. Blow up my theory in order to build a better one. So it's not about a banding, I think, you know, humans are naturally theory makers. There's nothing wrong with that. There's something wrong with clinging to outdated theory. If you hold it too tightly, that's an issue. And I've got this visual in my mind, the difference between a way marker, which is being planted to give you an idea of the terrain and a tether to which you were attached. Oh, I can't move from this thing anymore. This made sense five years ago when I first left university and that explained where I was at. And it gave the chaos in the world a sense of order. I understood where I was going and what was happening. Oh, if that no longer has accurate explanatory depth, I need to come up with a new theory and that's scary. I have to start all over again. You tell me I have to start all over again. I think we regularly have to start all over again. And I think, you know, that old adage Socrates was asked why he was so wise and he was said that he was so wise because he knew that he wasn't wise. In other words, ignorance, a capacity to acknowledge one's ignorance is at the root cause of sophisticated thinking that you should be returning to a kind of basic ignorance. Remember the story of Picasso who went to an art school in old age and he looks at some children scribbling and doing drawings and he said, you know, when I was their age, I could paint like Raphael and now I'm learning again how to paint like them. That's really a story about giving up the old map and allowing oneself to be ignorant again. And I think that's a true gift we give to ourselves when we allow ourselves to say, you know what, I don't know very much at all. I mean, people often say to me, they must say this to you, you know, people say to me, oh, you must know so much about love or death or this or that, you know, spend all time thinking. And I rush to tell them, I literally don't know anything. And I'm not, this is not false modesty, it's a genuine sense that, you know, with every passing day, I know less. And, you know, it's not even wisdom, it's just comedic, really. And every passing day, I know less, I love that. Yeah, this, the other thing to consider there is that almost everyone's body of work is a thinly veiled autobiography. You are looking to the person who has put the most time into this. Why do you think I put the most time into this? Because I see me as most efficient in precisely all of the different areas that I am focusing on. 100%. Exactly. So someone who's, you know, providing a guide to goodness probably finds goodness really hard. Somebody who's really interested in wisdom is really in touch with the chaos in them and in the world. You wouldn't do it otherwise. You're right. It's a compensatory activity. And so be it. So we should never look to, you know, our gurus to actually be, as long as we've got all, you know, I thought they'd be wise. And then I, you know, I saw them cursing at the airport and said, you know, what a fool they are. You want to go, of course, they did that. No, you know, they're so invested in maintaining a sort of adult poise. Of course, they're going to have a fragile hold on it. They wouldn't bother otherwise. And that's okay. That's absolutely fine. I think, I mentioned this to you last time, but I think it's one of the reasons why your work in particular, Oliver Berkman, we're up 4,000 weeks, is very sanguine look, a human nature. It's got a distinctively British quality to it, which I love this sort of, it doesn't get too big for its boots. It's kind of got a carry on camping, a sort of signature to it. I mean, look, bless the Americans, but the problem with America is that it was started by people who thought you could build your Russelam on this earth, but you literally could build a city on the hill here and there. And whereas, you know, European culture was a tragic culture, which essentially sought thought as of human beings as inherently flawed, the playthings of the gods, and unable to master the show until maybe the next life, but definitely not this one, which immediately creates a comedic modesty around the gap between your aspirations and your reality. And so growing up in Britain, I mean, Britain doesn't do many things well, but one of the things it really does well, is a kind of melancholy dark humor. I mean, this is the home of the Smiths, this is the home of Monty Python, this is, you know, these people are latching onto the fact that life is absurd, dark, and that the most sophisticated response is a kind of rich, somber, hilarious laughter. And you know, the reason why America has changed the planet so radically is that it's made up of people who think there's such a thing as possible, and you don't have to wait till the next world. You do it right here and now with some tools and you go to Silicon Valley and off you go. And it's wonderful. It's created, you know, wonders of the world. However, psychically, my goodness, the toll has been enormous, enormous because it forces everybody in that society to measure themselves against an ideal, which is so punishing. So, you know, the secret sorrows of the American heart is a volume without end. It's a very big volume because this is a society that puts its people under unbelievable psychic stress. Because of blue sky thinking, you can do all of these things. I wonder whether it's one of the reasons why victimhood culture and its sort of modern incantation hasn't quite caught on in the UK in maybe the same way as it's often sort of the finger is pointed at, because if you're a child and you're told you can be whatever you want to be, the sky is not even the limit. You can go beyond that and go further. The literally South African living in America is the guy that's going, trying to go past the moon to go and do this thing. It's the paradox of meritocracy, isn't it? You know, we hear a lot about this idea of trying to build a society where everybody gets to where they merit to be, and it's a wonderful idea, beautiful idea. But if you really think that you can create a society where everyone deserves to be where they are, like goodness, you can have a problem explaining why you failed in that society, because not only is success merited, but so is failure, which is why failure is so crushing if you really believe in meritocracy. In certain European countries, in sort of tragic idea, no one thinks it's a meritocracy. Everyone thinks the whole system is random, it's rigged. The ancient Greeks were obsessed by the idea of the arbitrary nature of fate, because the gods are in control of human destiny, not humans, humans can't control their destiny. But in the modern American view, of course you control your destiny, and you are responsible, which is why America and the American word for someone who hasn't succeeded is a loser. The loser is somebody who's played a game, which had fair rules, and they've messed up, and therefore they deserve no pity, and they just deserve to be called a loser. Which is why the more meritocratic the system is, the more psychological pressure there is, the more impulse there is to kill yourself if you don't succeed. I mean, suicide rates, skyrocket, the more people believe that individual destiny reflects the essence of who you are. And suicide rates fall when the explanatory factor is thought to lie outside the individual. Whereas the ancients would call those losers unfortunates. 100% Lady Fortuna. Lady Fortuna. Yeah. And I mean, the Greeks, I mean, if you read any Greek history of folk tales, etc., the ancient Greeks are obsessed by the notion of the gods are pulling us like marionettes all the time. Lady Fortuna is the one with the wheel. Well, the tiller, the tiller. No, I thought it was a set of scales, is it not scales that balance out? I mean, it's also a tiller, you know, like a ship and able to control destinies. And often a cornucopia as well, holding lots of goods. So if Fortuna is in good mood, she'll chuck you lots of lovely stuff and she's a bad mood, she'll just, you know, adjust the tiller and off you go to your death. If you haven't been feeling as sharp or energized as you'd like, getting your blood work done is the best place to start, which is why I partnered with function. They run lab tests twice a year that monitor over a hundred biomarkers. 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I seem to remember a story from him where he was imprisoned and loads of things went wrong and he was sort of in his fifties and he wasn't able to see his family and all of this stuff. And one of his friends came to him and was lamenting the fact like how much has gone wrong. He must be so despondently. He said, "Well, look at the first 50 years of my life. Look how blessed are a lady for tuna and sort of calm and you know the scale or the corn of copier. Sort of run a little bit drive. I had a great crack at it for the first however many five decades." I mean, the stoics were fascinating and they had academic discussions about if a wise person, how should a wise person look at having two legs and losing one leg. It's like how many legs do you need in order to be happy? And the sort of position that you would get to after lots and lots of study of stoic thought is the wise man appreciates having two legs but can cope with having only one. And that's really the essence of stoicism. You want to have two legs. It's okay to want two legs but it's also you will know how to cope with only one leg. That's years and years of stoic study. You mentioned last time about the virtue of pessimism sort of melancholy, a great British tradition and I wonder how you think about people learning to be a little bit more hopeful sort of the opposite side of that because yes, we definitely do have what was the thing that they said in Harry Potter, mischief managed. They said to make the marauder's map go away, melancholy managed. I feel like we've got melancholy well managed. However, the other side to fortuna this, how can people learn to be a little bit more hopeful? Look, I love that. That's a very simple question. If you knew you couldn't fail, what would you want to do? It's such a big question but such a useful one. It has as a elemental simplicity to it but if you knew you could not fail, what would you want to do? Because people don't even allow themselves to play. If you think about what play is, play is doing something without fearing consequences. Let's just do this as a game. Children know how to play because they're not so scared of consequences so they'll just give it a shot and a good adult life does require is to rediscover that freedom of playing and the way in which we do it is we think if everything went wrong or if everything went wrong, it would still be okay. What about the idea of thinking this could go right? There couldn't be any massive consequences so rediscovering play around your ambition is really important. Is that lowering the stakes in a way? Of course, pessimism has a role to play. It's lovely quote from Mottain, "Kings and philosophers shit and so do ladies." Now what he was trying to say there is CEOs, he also says another quote, he goes, "On the highest throne in the world was seated still upon our arses." He loves to use this sort of punch and French language in which he's basically saying, "Stop being so intimidated by people in power. They sit on the toilet every day like you do." So a lot of people have that secret toilet-based confidence. It's like feeling really intimidated. It's only a few hours and minutes away, I'm going off to defecate and use that as an anchor point to relativize their status in relation to you. Jason Pargin has got this great idea where he says, "All of your heroes are full of shit. Your heroes aren't gods, they're just regular people who got god at one thing by sacrificing literally everything else," and you don't get to see that, the probably one of the most fascinating questions that's captivated me since starting the show is what is the price that people pay in order to be someone that others admire? What are the externalities that are uncertain? I don't look at it like that because I think that people tend to achieve what they need to achieve. They're not going, "Well, I could have this sort of life or that sort of life, but I'll choose to try and win Wimbledon or go to the moon." I think they're driven, it's not a choice, and it's a compulsion. We can feel sorry for that compulsion, but also appreciate that it is a slightly neurotic overcompensation. Should you look at successful people with more pity than envy in that regard? Sure. I mean, somebody with an outsized need for anything always think, "What's the opposite of that?" The very funny person, they're really afraid of seriousness, the very wealthy person, they've got a really complicated relationship to a modest income, et cetera, et cetera. Yes, there is a massive overcompensation, which speaks of luck, ultimately it's a luck. Think how poor you must feel in order to make that much money. Think how deprived you must feel inside in order to need that level of status. In order to be thought so special by millions of strangers, how much you must despise yourself? And we know this, every single biography teaches us this. We know this about the lives of everyone who's done an outsized thing in one area. We know there's a relationship with the undersized opposite. Speaking of being special to strangers, what do you think online dating is so miserable reliably for most people? Look, I think the problem with online dating is that it teaches us that the main problem with love is finding the right person, and of course it's one of the issues that we need to locate a candidate who broadly fits certain criteria. But that's probably a lot easier and we tend to think the real challenge is how do you get on with another human being? And that's not spoken off within dating culture. What dating culture tells us is if there's a conflict or a problem, it's that you're not with the so-called right person, rather than accepting everybody you're likely to find is really problematic. So as soon as you've found a more or less okay candidate, do the real work, which is learning how to live with them. But the emphasis is constantly thrown on that other thing, which is just finding the next shiny object. So it's a massive distractor of effort. It teaches us to place the effort in the wrong place. Yeah, turning the microscope around, turning it from a telescope that's searching to a microscope that's looking at us, okay, well how can you make yourself and this other person into something that's a better unit as opposed to just getting rid of them and moving onto the next. And as a tremendous gratitude, I mean people will say I've swiped through 800 profiles today and you think what you've just sort of executed as it were 800, 800 people are not good for you. That can't be true. It isn't true. There's likely to be lots of people in that cohort that were a value, but we're encouraged to look through such a narrow lens at value that we end up discarding and that leaves I think a kind of moral hangover or sickness because we know we've done something a bit disreputable, which is a judgey, not less ye be judged. You have done a lot of judging, so you think this is probably happening to me too. Yeah. And so it's ultimately an unkind world. It's, you know, it's not a world that anybody particular is responsible for. Most of us are innocents on this treadmill, but undoubtedly I think it leads to moral confusion. I wonder what the, when it comes to a relationship and not seeing our partner as the sole source of everything that we need in this life. I wonder what the love is more about managing disappointment than it is about chasing joy in that way. Look, the thing is that we can either have the expectations we have or we can have lower ones. If we're going to stick with the expectations we have around relationships, boy or boy do we need to do the work. And this is the problem of our society. We have these sky high expectations, but a serious reluctance to work at it. It's like, you know, I want my partner to be, you know, my ideal co-partner, chauffeur, soulmate, sex partner, blah, blah, blah. All these things have to register on all these fronts. And the sole work I'm going to do is, you know, once in a while listen to an S2PRL podcast and I'm going to think it's going to swing it, or if that, and you think, hang on a minute, if this was the flute and you wanted to get good at the flute, you'd be practicing three hours a day. So I think there doesn't have to be anything wrong with the expectations we have. Some people got, oh, you know, we've got overly high expectations. Fine, let's have really high expectations of relationships. Why not? But then do the work. And that means hours and hours, daily hours of practice, which involves a lot of learning and a lot of giving it a go. That wonderful line from you, compatibility is an achievement of love. It shouldn't be its precondition. Again, this is something which can be built over time, as opposed to the entry price that needs to be paid before it starts. Exactly. And it really helps, of course, if the whole culture is supporting us. If the culture is patient, if the culture tells us, okay, you've had a huge argument, what happens next? Currently, we think, oh, we break up because we've had a moment of incompatibility rather than, this is a massive learning moment. Let's go back to school on this. Let's really study this. And we were talking earlier, we're very suggestible creatures. We pick up our cues about the work we should do according to societal nudges. And currently, society is not particularly nudging us to work at some of those rough points in dialogues with others. What is the subtext? What are the whispers of what society is saying about relationships at the moment, do you think? It's basically telling us that if there's a problem, it's that we found somebody with red flags, they may be a narcissist, they could be borderline, they could be, you know, emotionally unintelligent, et cetera, and therefore in the bin. They should go in the bin. I mean, the problem with these red flag languages are very well, but if you're going to put everyone in the bin who's a red flag, well, good luck to you. You're not going to have many friends. I mean, you know, there's a lot of red flags around in everybody, including you. So using me, you know, and it gets exciting when we go, okay, I, oh, no, I'm sorry. Not to the red flags. Can we do something about it when two people meet each other and go, I know I'm desperately flawed. Can we help each other? I mean, the enemy of relationships is self-righteousness. The enemy is defensiveness. The enemy is people go, well, I feel like this and you need to acknowledge that. And, you know, this is the way it is. These are my boundaries and give way, give way. And, you know, I, I've been submissive too long and this is the way it is now. You want to go, okay, all right, maybe, but can we, can we meet halfway? Can we somehow find a way of having a dialogue that acknowledges with both in a bit of a model here, both likely to be carrying all sorts of, you know, difficulties, blah, blah, blah. That kind of modesty is a saving grace. I mean, when that modesty kicks in, the angels are singing because they know that a relationship is going to be safe. My goodness, we waste relationships, you know, people, people, I meet people all the time to go all out together with someone for eight years and then, you know, we were squabbling. So, you know, I ended it or, you know, it was with someone for seven years and, you know, and you think, my goodness, all those shared jokes, all those investments, all that faith. And then you chuck it all in the sea and you begin again and you might do this seven times in a lifetime. How exhausting it is. Now, I'm not, you know, it's not a plea for everyone to stay together at all costs. Obviously, there are relationships. You need to exit. You know, there are serious grounds for questioning the way certain of these relationships and you think, couldn't there have been a little more patience, a little more forbearance, a little more of an understanding that what you were meeting here was not any compatibility in one person, but the scale of human intra confusion that you're likely to meet up anywhere, you know, rather than thinking you've met one particularly corrupt human beings, like, well, you've just met another typical human and you go for me another one in the seven years, we back to the same place. Are there any questions or statements or framings that you have found to be particularly neutralizing it? You're in the midst of the back and forth. This is the argument. Maybe it is the seven year point that you're deep into. Are there any ways of beginning a conversation or interjecting into one of those disagreements that you have found to be particularly fruitful in bringing the energy down in the room? Of course. I mean, everybody knows these, but it's worth repeating because we do forget, especially the moments of crisis, you know, if you make the other peer person feel heard that even though their reality is not yours, doesn't need to be that you have the wherewithal and the patience to acknowledge, you know, they thought you were insulting them. They read it as an insult. Now you can immediately go, no, no, it's not an insult, it wasn't, you know, you can carry on, you know, good luck to you. You can argue this in court, but you're not going to get anywhere. So try another tack, acknowledge, okay, I'm hearing that you're really insulted. You can then go on to go. I didn't mean to. This is why there are, but acknowledge it first, you know. And then also when you're asserting your point of view, don't frame it as universal, frame it as coming from you. I feel, from my point of view, I'm thinking that, you know, not you're an idiot, but in this area, I feel softening language, maybe perhaps the world can be saved by a few more babies and perhapses. They're wonderful words, perhaps this, I might, not I will or I am, I might, I may softening diplomatic language is, there's a lot of the way, you know, that word diplomat, diplomacy, you don't think of it as a job for specialists, you know, people who work in the foreign office in the state department, etc. A diplomat is somebody who's an expert at breaking difficult news into something that another person is going to be able to digest and we all need to be diplomats, whatever our jobs, we all need to be diplomats, we all need to be able to have that capacity to, to take difficult information and get it across to another person. And so often we think that the truth is going to liberate people, if you just tell someone the truth, they'll go, wow, wow, then, you know, accept it, no, no, no, no, you've got to get round their defenses, their fears, their sense of threatened righteousness, etc. That doesn't mean being manipulative or overly flattering or obfuscating or something. It means being alive to people's panic, there's, there's, you know, whenever there's an argument, there's two frightened people in the room and it's all very well, you're hyping up the tension and just asserting how right you are, but really what you need to do is to take care of your own fear and the other person's fear. There's two scared people, all arguments are about fear and if you can drop down the level and go, we're not really arguing about the teacup are we? We're not really arguing about, you know, we're arguing about two people's fears. If you can drop down to that fear and identify what that fear is, literally ask yourself, middle of an argument, what am I really scared of? And ask the other person and also reveal it. And often it's often it's very simple, I'm scared you don't love me. I'm scared that if I stay around here, I'm going to be humiliated and maltreated. If you can say that to another person, first of all, it shifts the template. Suddenly, we're not arguing about the stain on the floor. We're arguing about somebody who's a vulnerable child, great, it's a really good starting point. Take that vulnerable child, give them a hug. If you are looking for new reading suggestions, look no further than the modern wisdom reading list. It is 100 books that you should read before you die, the most interesting, life-changing and impactful books I've ever read with descriptions about why I liked them and links to go and buy them. And you can get it right now for free by going to crisswillx.com/books. 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