12 Rules for Life
Overture
Order
is where the people around you act according to well-understood social norms and remain predictable and cooperative. It’s the world of social structure,
explored territory, and familiarity. The state of Order is typically portrayed,
symbolically—imaginatively—as masculine. It’s the Wise King and the Tyrant,
forever bound together, as society is simultaneously structure and oppression.
Chaos,
by contrast, is where—or when—something unexpected happens. Chaos
emerges, in trivial form, when you tell a joke at a party with people you think
you know and a silent and embarrassing chill falls over the gathering. Chaos is
what emerges more catastrophically when you suddenly find yourself without
employment or are betrayed by a lover.
Order
and chaoses is the yang and yin of the famous Taoist symbol: two serpents, head
to tail. Order is the white, masculine serpent; Chaos,
its black, feminine counterpart. The black dot in the white—and the white in
the black—indicate the possibility of transformation: just when things seem
secure, the unknown can loom, unexpectedly and large. Conversely, just when
everything seems lost, new order can emerge from catastrophe and chaos. For the
Taoists, meaning is to be found on the border between the ever-entwined pair.
To walk that border is to stay on the path of life, the divine Way. And that’s
much better than happiness.
It
is possible to transcend slavish adherence to the group and its doctrines and,
simultaneously, to avoid the pitfalls of its opposite extreme, nihilism. It is
possible, instead, to find sufficient meaning in individual consciousness and
experience. How could the world be freed from the terrible dilemma of conflict,
on the one hand, and psychological and social dissolution, on the other? The
answer was this: through the elevation and development of the individual, and
through the willingness of everyone to shoulder the burden of Being and to take
the heroic path.
Stand Up Straight With Your Shoulders Back
Rule 1
The
poor and stressed always die first, and in greater numbers. They are also much
more susceptible to non-infectious diseases, such as cancer, diabetes and heart
disease. When the aristocracy catches a cold, as it is said, the working class
dies of pneumonia.
Conflict,
in turn, produces another problem: how to win or lose without the disagreeing
parties incurring too great a cost.
A
lobster with high levels of serotonin and low levels of octopamine is a cocky,
strutting sort of shellfish, much less likely to back down when challenged.
High
serotonin/low octopamine characterizes the victor. The opposite neurochemical
configuration, a high ratio of octopamine to serotonin, produces a
defeated-looking, scrunched-up, inhibited, drooping, skulking sort of lobster,
very likely to hang around street corners, and to vanish at the first hint of
trouble.
Sometimes
it is known as the Matthew Principle (Matthew 25:29), derived from what might
be the harshest statement ever attributed to Christ:
“to
those who have everything more will be given; from those who have nothing,
everything will be taken.”
Even
the most brutal chimp despot can be taken down, after all, by two opponents,
each three-quarter as mean. In consequence, males who stay on top longer are
those who form reciprocal coalitions with their lower-status compatriots, and
who pay careful attention to the troupe’s females and their infants. The
political ploy of baby-kissing is literally millions of years old.
The
dominant male, with his upright and confident posture, not only gets the prime
real estate and easiest access to the best hunting grounds. He also gets all
the girls. It is exponentially more worthwhile to be successful, if you are a
lobster, and male.
We
(the sovereign we, the we that has been around since the beginning of life)
have lived in a dominance hierarchy for a long, long time. We were struggling
for position before we had skin, or hands, or lungs, or bones. There is a little
more natural than culture. Dominance hierarchies are older than trees.
The
part of our brain that keeps track of our position in the dominance hierarchy
is therefore exceptionally ancient and fundamental. It is a master control
system, modulating our perceptions, values, emotions, thoughts and actions. It
powerfully affects every aspect of our Being, conscious and unconscious alike.
This is why, when we are defeated, we act very much like lobsters who have lost
a fight.
Erratic
habits of sleeping and eating can interfere with its function. Uncertainty can
throw it for a loop. The body, with its various parts, needs to function like a
well-rehearsed orchestra. Every system must play its role properly, and at
exactly the right time, or noise and chaos ensue. It is for this reason that
routine is so necessary. The acts of life we repeat every day need to be
automatized. They must be turned into stable and reliable habits, so they lose
their complexity and gain predictability and simplicity. This can be perceived
most clearly in the case of small children, who are delightful and comical and
playful when their sleeping and eating schedules are stable, and horrible and
whiny and nasty when they are not.
Do
they wake up in the morning at approximately the time the typical person wakes
up, and at the same time every day? If the answer is no, fixing that is the
first thing. It doesn’t matter so much if they go to bed at the same time each
evening, but waking up at a consistent hour is a necessity.
There
are many systems of interaction between brain, body and social world that can
get caught in positive feedback loops. Depressed people, for example, can start
feeling useless and burdensome, as well as grief-stricken and pained. This
makes them withdraw from contact with friends and family. Then the withdrawal
makes them more lonesome and isolated, and more likely to feel useless and
burdensome. Then they withdraw more. In this manner, depression spirals and
amplifies.
People,
like lobsters, size each other up, partly in consequence of stance. If you
present yourself as defeated, then people will react to you as if you are
losing. If you start to straighten up, then people will look at and treat you
differently.
To
stand up straight with your shoulders back is to accept the terrible
responsibility of life, with eyes wide open. It means deciding to voluntarily
transform the chaos of potential into the realities of habitable order. It
means adopting the burden of self-conscious vulnerability and accepting the
end of the unconscious paradise of childhood, where finitude and mortality are
only dimly comprehended. It means willingly undertaking the sacrifices
necessary to generate a productive and meaningful reality (it means acting to
please God, in the ancient language).
So,
attend carefully to your posture. Quit drooping and hunching around. Speak your
mind. Put your desires forward, as if you had a right to them—at least the same
right as others. Walk tall and gaze forthrightly ahead. Dare to be dangerous.
Encourage the serotonin to flow plentifully through the neural pathways
desperate for its calming influence.
Treat Yourself Like Someone You Are Responsible for
Helping
Rule 2
People
are better at filling and properly administering prescription medication to
their pets than to themselves.
In
any case, that which we subjectively experience can be likened much more to a
novel or a movie than to a scientific description of physical reality. It is
the drama of lived experience—the unique, tragic, personal death of your
father, compared to the objective death listed in the hospital records; the the pain of your first love; the despair of dashed hopes; the joy attendant upon a
child’s success.
The
world of experience has primal constituents, as well. These are the necessary
elements whose interactions define drama and fiction. One of these is chaos.
Another is order. The third is the process that mediates between the two, which
appears identical to what modern people call consciousness. It is our eternal
subjugation to the first two that makes us doubt the validity of existence—that
makes us throw up our hands in despair, and fail to care for ourselves
properly. It is proper understanding of the third that allows us the only real
way out.
When
the ice you’re skating on is solid, that’s order. When the bottom drops out,
and things fall apart, and you plunge through the ice, that’s chaos.
Our
categories are far older than our species. Our most basic category—as old, in
some sense, as the sexual act itself—appears to be that of sex, male and
female. We appear to have taken that primordial knowledge of structured,
creative opposition and begun to interpret everything through its
Most
men do not meet female human standards. It is for this reason that women on
dating sites rate 85 percent of men as below average in attractiveness.
The
very hemispheric structure of the cortex reflects the fundamental division
between novelty (the unknown, or chaos) and routinization (the
known)
We
eternally inhabit order, surrounded by chaos. We eternally occupy known
territory, surrounded by the unknown. We experience meaningful engagement when
we mediate appropriately between them.
When
life suddenly reveals itself as intense, gripping and meaningful; when time
passes and you’re so engrossed in what you’re doing you don’t notice—it is
there and then that you are located precisely on the border between order and
chaos.
The
worst of all possible snakes is the eternal human proclivity for evil. The
worst of all possible snakes is psychological, spiritual, personal, internal.
This
is the great Freudian Oedipal nightmare. It is far better to render Beings in
your care competent than to protect them.
How
could the nature of man ever reach its full potential without challenge and
danger? How dull and contemptible would we become if there was no longer reason
to pay attention?
Dr.
Lynn Isbell, professor of anthropology and animal behaviour at the University
of California, has suggested that the stunningly acute vision almost uniquely
possessed by human beings was an adaptation forced on us tens of millions of
years ago by the necessity of detecting and avoiding the terrible danger of
snakes, with whom our ancestors…
Unlike
us, predators have no comprehension of their fundamental weakness, their
fundamental vulnerability, their own subjugation to pain and death. But we know
exactly how and where we can be hurt, and why. That is as good a definition as
any of self-consciousness. We are aware of our own defencelessness, finitude, and mortality. We can feel pain, and self-disgust, and shame, and horror, and
we know it. We know what makes us suffer. We know how dread and pain can be
inflicted on us—and that means we know exactly how to inflict it on others. We
know how we are naked, and how that nakedness can be exploited—and that means
we know how others are naked, and how they can be exploited.
And
no one understands the darkness of the individual better than the individual
himself. Who, then, when ill, is going to be fully committed to his own care?
If
we wish to take care of ourselves properly, we would have to respect
ourselves—but we don’t, because we are—not least in our own eyes—fallen
creatures. If we lived in Truth; if we spoke the Truth—then we could walk with
God once again, and respect ourselves, and others, and the world. Then we might
treat ourselves like people we cared for. We might strive to set the world
straight. We might orient it toward Heaven, where we would want people we cared
for to dwell, instead of Hell, where our resentment and hatred would eternally
sentence everyone.
There
are so many ways that things can fall apart, or fail to work altogether, and it
is always wounded people who are holding it together.
To
treat yourself as if you were someone you are responsible for helping is,
instead, to consider what would be truly good for you. This is not “what you
want.” It is also not “what would make you happy.”
You
need to consider the future and think, “What might my life look like if
I was caring for myself properly?”
You
could help direct the world, on its careening trajectory, a bit more toward
Heaven and a bit more away from Hell. Once having understood Hell, researched
it, so to speak—particularly your own individual Hell—you could decide against
going there or creating that. You could aim elsewhere. You could, in fact, devote
your life to this.
Make Friends with People Who Want the Best For You
Rule 3
The same thing happens when well-meaning counselors place a delinquent teen among
comparatively civilized peers. The delinquency spreads, not the stability. Down
is a lot easier than up.
Assume
first that you are doing the easiest thing, and not the most difficult.
Besides,
if you buy the story that everything terrible just happened on its own, with no
personal responsibility on the part of the victim, you deny that person all
agency in the past (and, by implication, in the present and future, as well).
In this manner, you strip him or her of all power.
Rogers
believed it was impossible to convince someone to change for the better. The
desire to improve was, instead, the precondition for progress. I’ve had
court-mandated psychotherapy clients. They did not want my help. They were
forced to seek it. It did not work. It was a travesty.
Here’s
something to consider: If you have a friend whose friendship you
wouldn’t recommend to your sister, or your father, or your son, why would you
have such a friend for yourself?
You
should choose people who want things to be better, not worse. It’s a good
thing, not a selfish thing, to choose people who are good for you. It’s
appropriate and praiseworthy to associate with people whose lives would be
improved if they saw your life improve.
When
you dare aspire upward, you reveal the inadequacy of the present and the
promise of the future.
Don’t
think that it is easier to surround yourself with good healthy people than with
bad unhealthy people. It’s not. A good, healthy person is ideal. It requires
strength and daring to stand up near such a person. Have some humility. Have
some courage. Use your judgment, and protect yourself from too-uncritical
compassion and pity.
Compare Yourself to Who You Were Yesterday, Not Who
Someone Else is Today
Rule 4
No
matter how good you are at something, or how you rank your
accomplishments, there is someone out there who makes you look incompetent.
In
a million years, who’s going to know the difference? The proper response to
that statement is not, Well, then, everything is meaningless. It’s, Any idiot
can choose a frame of time within which nothing matters. Talking yourself into
irrelevance is not a profound critique of Being. It’s a cheap trick of the
rational mind.
To
begin with, there is not just one game at which to succeed or fail. There are
many games and, more specifically, many good games—games that match your
talents, involve you productively with other people and sustain and even
improve themselves across time.
It’s
also unlikely that you’re playing only one game. You have a career and friends
and family members and personal projects and artistic endeavors and athletic
pursuits.
You
might object: I should be winning at everything! But winning
at everything might only mean that you’re not doing anything new or difficult.
You might be winning but you’re not growing, and growing might be the most
important form of winning. Should victory in the present always take precedence
over trajectory across time?
What
do you do to avoid conflict, necessary though it maybe? What are you inclined
to lie about, assuming that the truth might be intolerable? What do you fake?
We
cannot navigate, without something to aim at and, while we are in this world,
we must always
Even
when satisfied, temporarily, we remain curious. We live within a framework that
defines the present as eternally lacking and the future as eternally better. If
we did not see things this way, we would not act at all. We wouldn’t even be
able to see, because to see we must focus, and to focus we must pick one thing
above all else on which to focus.
The
future is like the past. But there’s a crucial difference. The past is fixed,
but the future—it could be better. It could be better, some precise amount—the
amount that can be achieved, perhaps, in a day, with some minimal engagement.
Perhaps
happiness is always to be found in the journey uphill, and not in the fleeting
sense of satisfaction awaiting at the next peak.
“What
could I say to someone else—my friend, my brother, my boss, my assistant—that
would set things a bit more right between us tomorrow? What bit of chaos might
I eradicate at home, on my desk, in my kitchen, tonight, so that the stage
could be set for a better play? What snakes might I banish from my closet—and
my mind?”
“What
could I do, that I would do, that would accomplish that, and what small thing
would I like as a reward?” Then you do what you have decided to do, even if you
do it badly. Then you give yourself that damn coffee, in triumph. Maybe you
feel a bit stupid about it, but you do it anyway. And you do the same thing
tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. And, with each day, your baseline of
comparison gets a little higher, and that’s magic. That’s compound interest.
There
is nothing magical here—or nothing more than the already-present magic of
consciousness. We only see what we aim at. The rest of the world (and that’s
most of it) is hidden. If we start aiming at something different—something like
“I want my life to be better”—our minds will start presenting us with new
information, derived from the previously hidden world, to aid us in that
pursuit.
Faith
is not the childish belief in magic. That is ignorance or even willful
blindness. It is instead the realization that the tragic irrationalities of
life must be counterbalanced by an equally irrational commitment to the
essential goodness of Being. It is simultaneously the will to dare set your
sights at the unachievable, and to sacrifice everything, including (and most
importantly) your life. You realize that you have, literally, nothing better to
do. But how can you do all this? — assuming you are foolish enough to try.
Pay
attention. Focus on your surroundings, physical and psychological. Notice
something that bothers you, that concerns you, that will not let you be, which
you could fix, that you would fix. You can find such somethings by asking
yourself (as if you genuinely want to know) three questions: “What is
it that is bothering me?”, “Is that something I could fix?” and “Would
I actually be willing to fix it?” If you find that the answer is “no,”
to any or all of the questions, then look elsewhere. Aim lower. Search until
you find something that bothers you, that you could fix, that you would fix,
and then fix it. That might be enough for the day.
“What could I do, that I would do, to make Life a little
better?”
Do Not Let Your Children Do Anything that Makes You
Dislike Them
Rule 5
Was
it really a good thing, for example, to so dramatically liberalize the divorce
laws in the 1960s? It’s not clear to me that the children whose lives were destabilized
by the hypothetical freedom, this attempt at liberation introduced would say so.
Horror and terror lurk behind the walls provided so wisely by our ancestors. We
tear them down at our peril. We skate, unconsciously, on thin ice, with deep,
cold waters below, where unimaginable monsters lurk.
People
often get basic psychological questions backward. Why do people take drugs?
Not a mystery. It’s why they don’t take them all the time that’s the mystery.
Why do people suffer from anxiety? That’s not a mystery. How are that people can
ever be calm? There’s the mystery. We’re breakable and mortal. A million things
can go wrong, in a million ways. We should be terrified out of our skulls at
every second. But we’re not. The same can be said for depression, laziness and
criminality.
Two-year-olds,
statistically speaking, are the most violent of people. They kick, hit and
bite, and they steal the property of others. They do so to explore, to express
outrage and frustration, and to gratify their impulsive desires. More
importantly, for our purposes, they do so to discover the true limits of
permissible behaviour. How else are they ever going to puzzle out what is
acceptable? Infants are like blind people, searching for a wall. They have to
push forward, and test, to see where the actual boundaries lie.
Kids
do this frequently. Scared parents think that a crying child is always sad or
hurt. This is simply not true. Anger is one of the most common reasons for
crying. Careful analysis of the musculature patterns of crying children has
confirmed this. Anger-crying and fear-or-sadness crying do not look the same.
They also don’t sound the same and can be distinguished with careful
attention. Anger-crying is often an act of dominance and should be dealt with
as such.
“How
was the kid?” his father asked me when he got home, much later that night.
“Good,” I said. “No problem at all. He’s asleep right now.” “Did he get up?”
said his father. “No,” I said. “He slept the whole time.” Dad looked at me. He
wanted to know. But he didn’t ask. And I didn’t tell.
You
can teach virtually anyone anything with such an approach. First, figure out
what you want. Then, watch the people around you like a hawk. Finally, whenever
you see anything a bit more like what you want, swoop in (hawk, remember) and
deliver a reward. Your daughter has been very reserved since she became a
teenager. You wish she would talk more. That’s the target: a more communicative
daughter. One morning, over breakfast, she shares an anecdote about school.
That’s an excellent time to pay attention. That’s the reward. Stop texting and
listen. Unless you don’t want her to tell you anything ever again.
Skinner,
however, was a realist. He noted that use of reward was very difficult: the
observer had to attend patiently until the target spontaneously manifested the
desired behaviour, and then reinforce. This required a lot of time, and a lot
of waiting, and that’s a problem.
However,
children would not have such a lengthy period of natural development, prior to
maturity, if their behaviour did not have to be shaped.
Given
this, the fundamental moral question is not how to shelter children completely
from misadventure and failure, so they never experience any fear or pain, but
how to maximize their learning so that useful knowledge may be gained with
minimal cost.
If
a child has not been taught to behave properly by the age of four, it will
forever be difficult for him or her to make friends. The research literature is
quite clear on this.
So
now we have two general principles of the discipline. The first: limit
the rules. The second: Use the least force necessary to
enforce those rules.
So
here are a few practical hints: time out can be an extremely effective form of
punishment, particularly if the misbehaving child is welcome as soon as he
controls his temper. An angry child should sit by himself until he calms down.
Then he should be allowed to return to normal life. That means the child
wins—instead of his anger.
If
your child is the kind of determined varmint who simply runs away, laughing,
when placed on the steps or in his room, physical restraint might have to be
added to the time out routine. A child can be held carefully but firmly by the
upper arms, until he or she stops squirming and pays attention.
Here’s
a fourth principle, one that is more particularly psychological: parents should
understand their own capacity to be harsh, vengeful, arrogant, resentful, angry
and deceitful.
People
are aggressive and selfish, as well as kind and thoughtful. For this reason, no
adult human being—no hierarchical, predatory ape—can truly tolerate being
dominated by an upstart child. Revenge will come. Ten minutes after a pair of
all-too-nice-and-patient parents have failed to prevent a public tantrum at the
local supermarket, they will pay their toddler back with the cold shoulder when
he runs up, excited, to show mom and dad his newest accomplishment.
Here’s
a fifth and final and most general principle. Parents have a duty to act as
proxies for the real world—merciful proxies, caring proxies—but proxies,
nonetheless. This obligation supersedes any responsibility to ensure happiness,
foster creativity, or boost self-esteem. It is the primary duty of parents to
make their children socially desirable.
Set Your House in Perfect Order Before You Criticize
the World
Rule 6
Many,
perhaps even most, of the adults who abuse children were abused themselves as
children. However, the majority of people who were abused as children do not
abuse their own children.
But
success makes us complacent. We forget to pay attention to. We take what we have
for granted. We turn a blind eye. We fail to notice that things are changing,
or that corruption is taking root. And everything falls apart. Is that the
fault of reality—of God? Or do things fall apart because we have not paid
sufficient attention?
A
hurricane is an act of God. But failure to prepare, when the necessity for
preparation is well known—that’s a sin. That’s a failure to hit the mark. And the
wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23).
Have
you cleaned up your life? If the answer is no, here’s something to try: Start
to stop doing what you know to be wrong. Start shopping today. Don’t waste time
questioning how you know that what you’re doing is wrong if you are certain
that it is.
Don’t
reorganize the state until you have ordered your own experience. Have some
humility. If you cannot bring peace to your household, how dare you try to rule
a city?
Pursue What is Meaningful (Not What is Expedient)
Rule 7
To
share does not mean to give away something you value, and get nothing back.
That is instead only what every child who refuses to share fears it means. To
share means, properly, to initiate the process of trade. A
child who can’t share—who can’t trade—can’t have any friends, because having
friends is a form of trade.
People
watched the successful succeed and the unsuccessful fail for thousands and
thousands of years. We thought it over and drew a conclusion: The successful
among us delay gratification. The successful among us bargain with the future.
A great idea begins to emerge, taking ever-more-clearly-articulated form, in
ever more-clearly-articulated stories: What’s the difference between the
successful and the unsuccessful? The successful sacrifice.
If
the world you are seeing is not the world you want, therefore, it’s time to
examine your values. It’s time to rid yourself of your current presuppositions.
It’s time to let go. It might even be time to sacrifice what you love best, so
that you can become who you might become, instead of staying who you are.
Thus,
the person who wishes to alleviate suffering—who wishes to rectify the flaws in
Being; who wants to bring about the best of all possible futures; who wants to
create Heaven on Earth—will make the greatest of sacrifices, of self and child,
of everything that is loved, to live a life aimed at the Good. He will forego
expediency. He will pursue the path of ultimate meaning. And he will in that
manner bring salvation to the ever-desperate world.
“No the tree can grow to Heaven,” adds the ever-terrifying
Carl Gustav Jung, psychoanalyst extraordinaire, “unless its roots reach
down to hell.”
Christ
responds to the first temptation by saying,
“One
does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of
God.”
What does this answer mean? It means that even under
conditions of extreme privation, there are more important things than food. To
put it another way: Bread is of little use to the man who has betrayed his
soul, even if he is currently
The
society produced by Christianity was far less barbaric than the pagan—even the
Roman—ones it replaced. Christian society at least recognized that feeding
slaves to ravenous lions for the entertainment of the populace was wrong, even
if many barbaric practices still existed. It objected to infanticide, to
prostitution, and to the principle that might means right. It insisted that
women were as valuable as men (even though we are still working out how to
manifest that insistence politically). It demanded that even a society’s
enemies be regarded as human. Finally, it separated church from state, so that
all-too-human emperors could no longer claim the veneration due to gods.
People
stricken with poverty don’t care about carbon dioxide. It’s not precisely that
CO2 levels are irrelevant. It’s that they’re irrelevant when you’re working
yourself to death, starving, scraping a bare living from the stony, unyielding,
thorn-and-thistle-infested ground.
Even
when the modern atheists opposed to Christianity belittle fundamentalists for
insisting, for example, that the creation account in Genesis is objectively
true, they are using their sense of truth, highly developed over the centuries
of Christian culture, to engage in such argumentation.
Besides,
the socialists were more intrinsically capitalist than the capitalists. They
believed just as strongly in money. They just thought that if different people
had the money, the problems plaguing humanity would vanish.
Each
human being understands, a priori, perhaps not what is good, but certainly what
is not. And if there is something that is not good, then there is something
that is good. If the worst sin is the torment of others, merely for the sake of
the suffering produced—then the good is whatever is diametrically opposed to
that. The good is whatever stops such things from happening.
Aim
up. Pay attention. Fix what you can fix. Don’t be arrogant in your knowledge.
Strive for humility, because totalitarian pride manifests itself in
intolerance, oppression, torture, and death. Become aware of your own
insufficiency—your cowardice, malevolence, resentment, and hatred. Consider the
murderousness of your own spirit before you dare accuse others and before you
attempt to repair the fabric of the world. Maybe it’s not the world that’s at
fault. Maybe it’s you. You’ve failed to make the mark. You’ve missed the
target. You’ve fallen short of the glory of God. You’ve sinned. And all of that
is your contribution to the insufficiency and evil of the world. And, above
all, don’t lie. Don’t lie about anything, ever. Lying leads to Hell. It was the
great and the small lies of the Nazi and Communist states that produced the
deaths of millions of people.
You
may come to ask yourself, “What should I do today?” in a manner that means “How
could I use my time to make things better, instead of worse?”
To
have meaning in your life is better than to have what you want, because you may
neither know what you want, nor what you truly need. Meaning is something that
comes upon you, of its own accord. You can set up the preconditions, you can
follow meaning when it manifests itself, but you cannot simply produce it, as
an act of will.
What
is expedient works only for the moment. It’s immediate, impulsive and limited.
What is meaningful, by contrast, is the organization of what would otherwise
merely be expedient into a symphony of Being.
Tell the Truth, or at least Don’t Lie
Rule 8
People
define their utopia and then bend their lives into knots trying to make it
reality. A left-leaning student adopts a trendy, anti-authority stance and
spends the next twenty years working resentfully to topple the windmills of his
imagination.
However,
researchers have recently discovered that new genes in the central nervous
system turn themselves on when an organism is placed (or places itself) in a
new situation. These genes code for new proteins. These proteins are the
building blocks for new structures in the brain. This means that a lot of you
is still nascent, in the most physical of senses, and will not be called forth
by stasis. You have to say something, go somewhere and do things to get turned
on. And, if not, you remain incomplete, and life is too hard for anyone
incomplete.
Only
the most cynical, hopeless philosophy insists that reality could be improved
through falsification.
To
accept the truth means to sacrifice—and if you have rejected the truth for a
long time, then you’ve run up a dangerously large sacrificial debt. Forest
fires burn out deadwood and return trapped elements to the soil. Sometimes,
however, fires are suppressed, artificially. That does not stop the deadwood
from accumulating. Sooner or later, a fire will start. When it does, it will
burn so hot that everything will be destroyed—even the soil in which the forest
grows.
We
must make decisions, here and now, even though the best means and the best
goals can never be discerned with certainty. An aim, an ambition, provides the
structure necessary for action. An aim provides a destination, a point of
contrast against the present, and a framework, within which all things can be
evaluated. An aim defines progress and makes such progress exciting. An aim
reduces anxiety, because if you have no aim everything can mean anything or
nothing, and neither of those two options makes for a tranquil spirit. Thus, we
have to think, and plan, and limit, and posit, in order to live at all.
You
are by no means only what you already know. You are also all that which you
could know if you only would. Thus, you should never sacrifice what you could
be for what you are. You should never give up the better that resides within
for the security you already have—and certainly not when you have already
caught a glimpse, an undeniable glimpse, of something beyond.
Everyone
needs a concrete, specific goal—an ambition, and a purpose—to limit chaos and
make intelligible sense of his or her life. But all such concrete goals can and
should be subordinated to what might be considered a meta-goal, which is a way
of approaching and formulating goals themselves. The meta-goal could be “live
in truth.” This means, “Act diligently towards some well-articulated, defined
and temporary end. Make your criteria for failure and success timely and clear,
at least for yourself (and even better if others can understand what you are
doing and evaluate it with you). While doing so, however, allow the world and
your spirit to unfold as they will, while you act out and articulate the
truth.” This is both pragmatic ambition and the most courageous of faiths.
If
your life is not what it could be, try telling the truth. If you cling
desperately to an ideology or wallow in nihilism, try telling the truth. If
you feel weak and rejected, and desperate, and confused, try telling the truth.
In Paradise, everyone speaks the truth. That is what makes it Paradise. Tell
the truth. Or, at least, don’t lie.
Assume that the Person You Are Listening to Might Know
Something You Don’t
Rule 9
Memory
is not a description of the objective past. Memory is a tool. Memory is the
past’s guide to the future. If you remember that something bad happened, and
you can figure out why then you can try to avoid that bad thing happening
again. That’s the purpose of memory. It’s not “to remember the past.”
It’s to stop the same damn thing from happening over and over.
Carl
Rogers, one of the twentieth century’s great psychotherapists, knew something
about listening. He wrote,
“The
great majority of us cannot listen; we find ourselves compelled to evaluate because listening is too dangerous. The first requirement is courage, and we do
not always have it.”
If
you listen, instead, without premature judgment, people will generally tell you
everything they are thinking—and with very little deceit. People will tell you
the most amazing, absurd, interesting things. Very few of your conversations
will be boring. (You can, in fact, tell whether or not you are actually listening
in this manner. If the conversation is boring, you probably aren’t.)
Be Precise in Your Speech
Rule 10
When
things break down, what has been ignored rushes in. When things are no longer
specified, with precision, the walls crumble, and chaos makes its presence
known. When we’ve been careless, and let things slide, what we have refused to
attend to gathers itself up, adopts a serpentine form, and strikes— often at
the worst possible moment. It is then that we see what focused intent, the precision of aim and careful attention protects us from.
Chaos
emerges in a household, bit by bit. Mutual unhappiness and resentment pile up.
Everything untidy is swept under the rug, where the dragon feasts on the
crumbs. But no one says anything, as the shared society and negotiated order of
the household, reveals itself as inadequate, or disintegrates, in the face of
the unexpected and threatening. Everybody whistles in the dark, instead.
Something
is out there in the woods. You know that with certainty. But often it’s only a
squirrel. If you refuse to look, however, then it’s a dragon, and you’re no
knight: you’re a mouse confronting a lion; a rabbit, paralyzed by the gaze of a
wolf. And I am not saying that it’s always a squirrel. Often it’s something
truly terrible. But even what is terrible in actuality often pales insignificance compared to what is terrible in imagination.
Confront
the chaos of Being. Take aim against a sea of troubles. Specify your
destination, and chart your course. Admit to what you want. Tell those around
you who you are. Narrow, and gaze attentively, and move forward, forthrightly.
Be precise in your speech.
Do Not Bother Children when they are Skateboarding
Rule 11
Of
course it was dangerous. The danger was the point. They wanted to triumph over
danger. They would have been safer in protective equipment, but that would have
ruined it. They weren’t trying to be safe. They were trying to become competent—and
it’s a competence that makes people as safe as they can truly be.
When
untrammeled—and encouraged—we prefer to live on the edge. There, we can still
be both confident in our experience and confronting the chaos that helps us
develop. We’re hard-wired, for that reason, to enjoy risk. We feel invigorated
and excited when we work to optimize our future performance while playing in
the present. Otherwise, we lumber around, sloth-like, unconscious, unformed and
careless. Overprotected, we will fail when something dangerous, unexpected and
full of opportunity suddenly makes its appearance, as it inevitably will.
It
was Jung who developed the most surgically wicked of psychoanalytic dicta: if
you cannot understand why someone did something, look at the consequences — and
infer motivation.
Girls
can win by winning in their own hierarchy—by being good at what girls value, as
girls. They can add to this victory by winning in the boys’ hierarchy. Boys,
however, can only win by winning in the male hierarchy. They will lose status,
among girls and boys, by being good at what girls value. It costs them in
reputation among the boys, and in attractiveness among the girls.
From
1997 to 2012, according to the Pew Research Centre, 180 the number of women
aged 18 to 34 who said that a successful marriage is one of the most important
things in life rose from 28 to 37 percent (an increase of more than 30
percent). The number of young men who said the same thing declined 15 percent
over the same period (from 35 to 29 percent).
Consider
this, as well, in regard to oppression: any hierarchy creates winners and
losers. The winners are, of course, more likely to justify the hierarchy and
the losers to criticize it. But (1) the collective pursuit of any valued goal
produces a hierarchy (as some will be better and some worse at that pursuit no
matter what it is) and (2) it is the pursuit of goals that in large part lends
life its sustaining meaning.
Power
is a fundamental motivational force (“a,” not
“the”). People compete to rise to the top, and they care where they are in
dominance hierarchies. But the fact that power plays a role in human motivation
does not mean that it plays the only role, or even the primary role. Likewise,
the fact that we can never know everything does make all our observations and
utterances dependent on taking some things into account and leaving other
things out (as we discussed extensively in Rule 10). That does not justify the
claim that everything is interpretation, or that categorization is just
exclusion. Beware of single cause interpretations—and beware the people who
purvey them.
If
radical right-wingers were receiving state funding for political operations
disguised as university courses, as the radical left-wingers clearly are, the uproar from progressives across North America would be deafening.
In
societies that are well-functioning—not in comparison to a hypothetical utopia,
but contrasted with other existing or historical cultures—competence, not
power, is a prime determiner of status. Competence. Ability. Skill. Not power.
This is obvious both anecdotally and factually. No one with brain cancer is
equity-minded enough to refuse the service of the surgeon with the best
education, the best reputation and, perhaps, the highest earnings. Furthermore,
the most valid personality trait predictors of long-term success in Western
countries are intelligence (as measured with cognitive ability or IQ tests) and
conscientiousness (a trait characterized by industriousness and orderliness).
Gender
is constructed, but an individual who desires gender re-assignment surgery is
to be unarguably considered a man trapped in a woman’s body (or vice versa).
The fact that both of these cannot logically be true, simultaneously, is just
ignored (or rationalized away with another appalling post-modern claim: that
logic itself—along with the techniques of science—is merely part of the
oppressive patriarchal system).
Here’s
the fundamental problem: group identity can be fractionated right down to the
level of the individual. That sentence should be written in capital letters.
Every person is unique—and not just in a trivial manner: importantly,
significantly, meaningfully unique. Group membership cannot capture that
variability. Period.
It’s
a good idea to tell the person you are confronting exactly what you would like
them to do instead of what they have done or currently are doing. You might
think, “if they loved me, they would know what to do.” That’s the voice of
resentment. Assume ignorance before malevolence. No one has a direct pipeline
to your wants and needs—not even you.
For
a woman to become complete, such stories claim, she must form a relationship
with masculine consciousness and stand up to the terrible world (which
sometimes manifests itself, primarily, in the form of her too-present mother).
An actual man can help her do that, to some degree, but it is better for
everyone concerned when no one is too dependent.
Men
enforce a code of behavior on each other, when working together. Do your work.
Pull your weight. Stay awake and pay attention. Don’t whine or be touchy. Stand
up for your friends. Don’t suck up and don’t snitch. Don’t be a slave to stupid
rules. Don’t, in the immortal words of Arnold Schwarzenegger, be a girlie man.
Don’t be dependent. At all. Ever. Period. The harassment that is part of
acceptance on a working crew is a test: are you tough, entertaining, competent
and reliable? If not, go away. Simple as that. We don’t need to feel sorry for
you. We don’t want to put up with your narcissism, and we don’t want to do your
work.
That
ad is famous for a reason. It summarizes human sexual psychology in seven
straightforward panels. The too-weak young man is embarrassed and
self-conscious, as he should be. What good is he? He gets put down by other men
and, worse, by desirable women. Instead of drowning in resentment, and skulking
off to his basement to play video games in his underwear, covered with Cheetos
dust, he presents himself with what Alfred Adler, Freud’s most practical
colleague, called a “compensatory fantasy.” The goal of such a fantasy is not
so much wish-fulfillment, as illumination of a genuine path forward. Mac takes
serious note of his scarecrow-like build and decides that he should develop a
stronger body. More importantly, he puts his plan into action. He identifies
with the part of himself that could transcend his current state and becomes
the hero of his own adventure. He goes back to the beach and punches the bully
in the nose. Mac wins. So does his eventual girlfriend. So does everybody else.
If
they’re healthy, women don’t want boys. They want men. They want someone to
contend with; someone to grapple with. If they’re tough, they want someone
tougher. If they’re smart, they want someone smarter. They desire someone who
brings to the table something they can’t already provide. This often makes it
hard for tough, smart, attractive women to find mates: there just aren’t that
many men around who can outclass them enough to be considered desirable (who
are higher, as one research publication put it, in “income, education,
self-confidence, intelligence, dominance, and social position”)become men is,
therefore, no more friend to woman than it is to man. It will object, just as
vociferously and self-righteously (“you can’t do it, it’s too dangerous”) when
little girls try to stand on their own two feet. It negates consciousness. It’s
antihuman, desirous of failure, jealous, resentful and destructive. No one
truly on the side of humanity would ally him or herself with such a thing. No
one aiming at moving up would allow him or herself to become possessed by such
a thing. And if you think tough men are dangerous, wait until you see what weak
men are capable of. Leave children alone when they are skateboarding.
Pet a Cat When You Encounter One on the Street
Rule 12
By
the 1980s, Superman was suffering from terminal deus ex machina — a Latin term
meaning “god from a machine.” The term described the rescue of the imperiled
heroin ancient Greek and Roman plays by the sudden and miraculous appearance
of an all-powerful god.
Perhaps
you might start by noticing this: when you love someone, it’s not despite their
limitations. It’s because of their limitations.
Set
aside some time to talk and to think about the illness or other crisis and how
it should be managed every day. Do not talk or think about it otherwise. If you
do not limit its effect, you will become exhausted, and everything will spiral
into the ground. This is not helpful. Conserve your strength. You’re in a war,
not a battle, and a war is composed of many battles. You must stay functional
through all of them. When worries associated with the crisis arise at other
times, remind yourself that you will think them through, during the scheduled
period.
And
maybe when you are going for a walk and your head is spinning a cat will show
up and if you pay attention to it then you will get a reminder for just fifteen
seconds that the wonder of Being might make up for the ineradicable suffering
that accompanies it. Pet a cat when you encounter one on the street.
Conclusion
Perhaps
it’s not reasonable to ask God to break the rules of physics every time we fall
by the wayside or make a serious error. Perhaps, in such times, you can’t put
the cart before the horse and simply wish for your problem to be solved in some
magical manner. Perhaps you could ask, instead, what you might have to do right
now to increase your resolve, buttress your character, and find the strength to
go on. Perhaps you could instead ask to see the truth.
Alone,
trying to calm down, we would each ask ourselves the same single
question: What had we each done to contribute to the situation we were
arguing about? However small, however distant... we had each made some error. Then
we would reunite, and share the results of our questioning.
The
next question ended the first set: What shall I do with my life? Aim for
Paradise, and concentrate on today.
Consider,
as well, that you may be blocked in your progress not because you lack
opportunity, but because you have been too arrogant to make full use of what
already lies in front of you. That’s Rule 6 (Set your house in perfect order
before you criticize the world).
What
shall I do in the next dire moment? Focus my attention on the next right move.
The flood is coming. The flood is always coming. The apocalypse is always upon
us. That’s why the story of Noah is archetypal. Things fall apart - discussed
in Rule 10 (Be precise in your speech)—and the center cannot hold. When
everything has become chaotic and uncertain, all that remains to guide you
might be the character you constructed, previously, by aiming up and
concentrating on the moment at hand. If you have failed in that, you will fail
in the moment of crisis, and then God helps you.
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