If everything went to plan, the job would be easy.
If everything went to plan, people would agree on the answer.
If everything went to plan, the charts would just move up and to the right.
If everything went to plan, there would be no crises.
But if everything went to plan, you wouldn’t have a job, there wouldn’t be a market for your business idea, and you wouldn’t get an opportunity to learn.
There is a world of possibility when things don’t go to plan. We just need to choose to see it.
We can choose to see the world as it really is, or we can choose to see what we want to see.
Reality vs. Delusion.
We can choose to see opportunity, or we can choose to only see downsides.
Optimism vs. Pessimism.
It’s a powerful exercise to combine the two and ask ourselves: what type of person do I want to be? What types of people do I want to work with? In what way do I want to raise my kids? How do I want to approach challenges and setbacks?
“Without owning something over an extended period of time—like a few years—where one has a chance to take responsibility for one’s recommendations, where one has to see one’s recommendations through all action stages, and accumulate scar tissue from the mistakes, and pick oneself up off the ground, and dust oneself off, one learns a fraction of what one can. Coming in and making recommendations without owning the results, without owning the implementation, I think is a fraction of the value, and a fraction of the opportunity to learn and get better.”—Steve Jobs in a lecture at MIT
This is the best explanation for ‘skin in the game’ that I’ve come across.
Implicit within this quote is ‘skin in the game’ is also a willingness to fail publicly under one’s own name. Along with all the risks, there are also outsized benefits if you win.
When we’re giving it 100%—in a race, in the gym, rushing for that deadline—we’re focused on getting to the finish line as fast as we can.
And in these moments, it helps to be operating from muscle memory: where we’re in a state of flow, and the connection between mind and action feels natural.
However, we can’t build muscle memory when we’re running at 100%.
To allow the connections between mind and muscle to form, we need to be operating at a lower cadence.
There are times to sprint, and they are few.
And then there is time to go a little slower—which is the majority of the time—where we’re simply investing in building our muscle memory for the sprints of the future.
Note: This is the second post in a weekly series called ‘Seneca Sundays’. Each week, I’m reflecting on one of Seneca’s ‘Moral Letters to Lucilius’, and summarising the most practical and useful principles to share with you.
Seneca’s main point in this letter is that Fortune can be both kind and violent, and that we must prepare ourselves for both of her moods.
Seneca challenges Lucilius to “set aside a certain number of days during which you shall be content with the scantiest and cheapest fare.”
To sleep on a straw mat, to wear coarse clothing, and to eat hard and grimy bread.
Seneca’s point is simple: we should “toughen the soul” in good times so we’re prepared for the moments of greater stress that will come in the future. He goes on to say, “If you would not have a person flinch when the crisis comes, train them before it comes.”
It felt a little odd reading this letter, and writing about it, without trying it for myself. So this week, I took 3 days and slept on the floor, wore my plainest clothes, didn’t shave, and ate pasta, canned tuna, and frozen vegetables for every meal.
At the beginning, it felt weird and self-absorbed. Food is never actually missing from my plate, so how could this simulated experience actually be valuable? I felt like a fraud; playing a game that had no purpose.
But over the 3 days, as I asked myself Seneca’s question, “Is this the condition that I feared?” I realised that my imperfect and simulated “scantiest of fare” was teaching me that even with little, I can still sleep soundly and avoid hunger.
I like how Seneca challenges us to not just endure—or survive—the test, but rather to find pleasure and enjoyment in it. This turns the experience into a psychological advantage we can take into the future.
“It is the highest kind of pleasure to be able to derive pleasure from this sort of food… and you will understand that a person’s peace of mind does not depend upon Fortune; for, even when angry she grants enough for our needs.”
As one of the richest people in the Roman Empire, Seneca wasn’t saying we should shun wealth, but encourages us to learn to “live happily without it as well as with it.” And that with the wealth we have—regardless of the amount—we should possess it “dauntlessly”. Unafraid of losing it.
I’m at the very beginning of my learning journey on this topic, but this letter—and my experience this week—has been a small window into preparing my mind for moments of future toil, experiencing the difference between need vs. want, and understanding how little we need to be happy.
After hurtling through the air at 800 kph, at an altitude of 36,000 ft, no one wants a bumpy landing.
So after that tough week in the office, that long workout, that evening university class, find a way to land the plane softly.
Cosy up with your favourite book, have a meal with your family, or take a warm bubble bath.
When we’re so focused on getting there, it’s easy to forget that a smooth landing is good for both passengers and pilots.
When building a product, bringing a new service to market, or even sharing a new idea with our team at work, it has to be both unique and valuable.
The operative word being “both”.
Innovation for innovation’s sake is like treading water. Lots of Movement but no progress.
On the other hand, doing something valuable, but following the status quo, will lead to mediocre results. Another suboptimal outcome.
It’s when we 1) bring something unique to the world, and 2) people find that thing valuable, that’s when the magic happens.
H/T to my ever-supportive mum for challenging me on this topic!
When you’re playing Catan, tennis, or even participating in a marathon, regardless of how you’re performing, you shouldn’t quit. These are “simple games” with limited consequences, clear rules, and knowable outcomes.
But “complex games” should be treated differently.
Complex games have big consequences, ambiguous rules, and unknowable outcomes. Examples could be the prestigious company that overworks its employees, the high-status but fickle friend group, or the business partnership where the benefits all fall to one side of the table.
We don’t need to play these games if we don’t want to.
There is no shame in leaving a losing game.
Dogfooding is the practice of a company’s employees using its own products in real-life situations to develop empathy for customers.
Yesterday, the UK government relaxed COVID travel restrictions, and I was impressed by Advantage Travel Partnership’s CEO, Julia Lo Bue-Said, who was on one of the first flights out from the UK to Portugal—one of the few countries on the UK’s “green list”.
She gave an interview to the BBC’s Today radio programme just after 6am, and then headed directly to the airport. She posted on Twitter throughout the day about all the hoops she had to jump through before successfully making it to the Algarve coast—including a pre-departure test for entry back into the UK, and obtaining her fit-to-fly certificate which was downloadable to her phone.
It’s great to see a leader being on the first flight out—literally and figuratively.
Today the World Health Organisation and the International Labour Organisation released results from the first global study on the relationship between long working hours and the loss of life and health.
In summary, “working 55 or more hours per week is associated with an estimated 35% higher risk of a stroke and a 17% higher risk of dying from ischemic heart disease, compared to working 35-40 hours a week.”
Official studies and reports are characteristically understated. But these numbers are insane. And robust too: the study is based on synthesised “data from 37 studies on ischemic heart disease covering more than 768 000 participants, and 22 studies on stroke covering more than 839 000 participants.”
I’ve previously spent time in industries where pulling long hours was seen as a badge of honour, but the evidence is clear: working too much can kill you.
Dr. Tedros Adhanom from the WHO summarises it well, “No job is worth the risk of stroke or heart disease. Governments, employers and workers need to work together to agree on limits to protect the health of workers.”
If you find yourself regularly working more than what the data says is healthy, what are you going to do about it?
Nassim Nicholas Taleb shares a helpful rule in his book, Skin in the Game.
“Anything you do to optimize your work, cut some corners, or squeeze more ‘efficiency’ out of it (and out of your life) will eventually make you dislike it.”
Taleb summarised a feeling I’ve often had, but haven’t been able to articulate.
Last year I started doing stretching and mobility exercises each morning. It should take about 20 minutes, but when I tried to condense the exercises into 15 minutes, I felt sick of them after 2 weeks.
After reading this idea, though, I put no time limit on my next session. It took 27 minutes to get through all the stretches, but I felt amazing at the end of it. The slower pace allowed by body to get the most of of the exercises.
For the activities that we do for our mind, bodies, and the home, perhaps its worth trying to take the foot off the gas and move at a slightly slower pace. Maybe we’ll end up loving something that used to feel like a chore.
Note: This is the first post in a weekly series called ‘Seneca Sundays’. Seneca’s writing is as profound as it is practical, and his timeless wisdom should be sipped and savoured, rather than gulped down. So, each week I’m going to reflect on one of his ‘Moral Letters to Lucilius’, and summarise the most practical and useful principles to share with you.
This weekly series is an experiment. I may get through all 124 letters, or it may end after a few weeks. What I do know is I welcome yours thoughts, feedback, and suggestions along the way.
Finally, I must say, I’m not a scholar, nor am I an academic. I’m simply curious about how Seneca’s principles—written almost 2,000 years ago—can help us live a better life. I’ll make mistakes along the way, and I trust that’s just part of the journey. So keep me honest, dear reader.
I’m not going to write about the letters in sequential order. I’m going to let my curiosity lead, because it’s more fun that way. However, I’m starting with Letter #2 because it kicked off this whole idea.
In this letter, Seneca implores his friend and Sicilian Governor, Lucilius, to “stick to a limited number of master thinkers” rather than flit from book to book. It was this idea that inspired me to digest one of Seneca’s letters each week, instead of racing through them all and missing out on all they have to offer.
So, here we go.
Just like when a plant is moved too often, it cannot grow strong. Or when one travels too much, they’ll have many acquiantances, but few friends. We lose out on real depth and quality of learning when we jump from book to book.
“Everywhere means nowhere.”
Seneca also suggests we stick to “standard authors” because there are too many books for us to read. I smiled at this: the paradox of choice also existed in Ancient Rome—1,400 years before the invention of the Gutenberg press.
There are two parts to this piece of advice.
Firstly, there are only a limited number of “master thinkers”, and even then, we only have time for a select few. So we must choose carefully. My personal approach is to stick to a) the basic ideas, b) the big ideas, c) in the main disciplines, and d) to ideas that are practical and helpful in daily life.
Secondly, once we’ve decided the “who”, we need to actively, slowly, and deliberately digest their work. As Mortimer J. Adler puts it, “using nothing other than the words, lift ourselves from knowing less to knowing more.” It takes time, effort, and persistence to deeply understand the words of a master.
From the many things we read, “claim a part of yourself.”
Wrestle with the words, underline, make notes in the margin. Refine and whittle down the key points until there is something clear, simple, and memorable for you to claim for your own.
Seneca goes on to say, “Each day, acquire something that will fortify you against poverty.”
We shouldn’t focus on monetary or material wealth here, but rather ask ourselves: what can we learn today that will help us build a sound mind, a health body, and a loving home?
“It’s not the person who has too little, but the person who craves more, who is poor… What is the proper limit to wealth? It is, first, to have what is necessary, and second, to have what is enough.”
Here’s to knowing when enough is enough.
It’s normal to dislike uncertainty, disorder, and chaos.
But chaos—as a result of unexpected challenges, setbacks, and even bad luck—is inevitable. It’s part of the natural order of life.
It’s not by accident.
When we embrace that chaos will turn up—no matter how hard we try and avoid it—it helps us build the mindset to fight it. It helps us bring order, structure, and form to the madness.
There have been a few occasions when I’ve gone hiking or kayaking with folks who are much more experienced than I am.
One thing I’ve noticed about them is that when it starts to rain, when the wind picks up, when the path is muddy, or when the temperature is just above freezing, they’re not phased.
With a calm smile, and without a word, they put one foot in front of the other and press on.
When we choose to go on a journey, there is a tax to pay. There’s no point complaining about the wind, rain, mud, and cold—it’s simply part of the journey.
I’ve been thinking a lot about metaphors recently, and this is no exception. The hike is just an example, the tax applies to any journey we choose to go on. From a job, to studying, to a relationship, to life itself.
Since moving to at-home workouts, kettlebells have become the foundational piece of equipment in my strength training programme.
The kettlebell is a double-edged sword, though.
For all their benefits—compact, portable, works a broad range of core and stabiliser muscles—they do have their dangers: dropping a heavy hunk of cast iron can cause damage to humans and property.
So every now and then I refresh my knowledge on kettlebell lifting techniques to minimise the risk of injury. One piece of advice that stood out to me was “always start from the ground up.”
The key idea is to make sure you have complete control over the kettlebell as it moves from the floor, past your knees, and up to your hips. Get the squat and the deadlift movements right before you start incorporating exercises that bring the kettlebell up to your chest, and especially before you starting lifting the kettlebell above your head.
As with strength training, and with kettlebells, starting from the ground up in any new project, endeavour, or venture is to build a foundation that will last, and one that minimises long term risk.