johnmaconline

I recently passed 100 days in a row of posting to this blog.

What I’ve learned isn’t earth-shattering, life-changing, or revolutionary. The lesson is rather ordinary, actually. But it’s backed up by some heavyweights like Steven Pressfield and James Clear. 

I do think it’s worth sharing:

If I commit mentally (I mean honestly and truly commit), my actions follow. 

I’ve committed not just to 100 days but 365 days. I’m not entertaining the thought of changing it. I’m not allowing any doubts to surface. I’m not worried about holidays, or sick days, or days I’m uninspired. I don’t care if I’m so devoid of ideas by 365 days that I’ve resorted to posting the grocery list. I’m posting every day. 

I’m showing up, and I’m expecting the muse to show up with me. 

There are some other subtle lessons as well. For example, I am always on the lookout since I need a new topic each day. The fear of having nothing to say started the engine, but now it’s a perpetual motion machine. Pay attention and think about the point of view.

And if you’re wondering, no, it’s not always easy. These little posts of 250 words or less take me somewhere between 10 minutes and three hours. I have to make time in my schedule. That’s not always easy or comfortable. I sometimes have to steal from Peter to pay Paul. 

Next stop, 365. 

You’re a hypocrite. Don’t worry, so am I. We all are. 

If you’re a human, you’re a hypocrite. 

“Yes, I’m not what I appear to be. I’m a sinner. I play roles. I have dark parts. I hold ideological paradoxes. I have a plank in my eye.”

I often wonder what our online communities would look like if, rather than spending so much effort policing hypocrisies, we spent that effort looking in the mirror, understanding another’s perspective, and finding common ground.

More empathy. Less town crier. 

Most people don’t care if you vote. They only care if you vote for their team.
Most people don’t care about free speech. They only care when their team is censored or when you say something they don’t like.
Most people don’t care about freedom. They only care if they feel less free.
Most people don’t care about your morality. They only care about enforcing their own morality.
Most people don’t care about illegal immigrants. They only care about what the issue of illegal immigrants represents.
Most people don’t care about criminals. They only care about what their team says about the criminal.
Most people don’t care about your bodily autonomy. They only care about their own body.
Most people don’t care about what you say. They only care about what they are trying to say.
Most people don’t care about you. They only care about what you think of them.

Whenever we’re looking for common ground, we must always remember what the other actually cares about.

We’re easily distracted by shiny objects.

Those shiny objects gain leverage if we put labels on them — safety, anti-vax, ableism, privilege, transphobia, etc.

But if we could look past our distractions for just a minute.

What happens if all public health policies start with a better food supply and more exercise?
What happens if all public education policies start with education?
What happens if all public community policies start with family?
What happens if all public law enforcement and prosecuting policies start with protecting victims?

The problem with shiny objects is that they distract us from real solutions.

I’m damn glad we didn’t have social media when I was 25.

I thought stupid things, said stupid things, and generally acted stupid. If I had a broadcast studio in my pocket then, as we do now, I’m sure I would have…well, let’s just leave it at “posted some things I now regret.”

And the internet never forgets.

What was wrong with me at 25? Nothing, really. I was a different person then, and we lived in a culturally different time. 

That’s what happens. We evolve, as does the culture, social norms, and zeitgeist. Our journey exposes us to new experiences, people, and ways of life. New technologies open previously unknown paths, and more data solidifies the picture. The zeitgeist shapeshifts like a cumulous cloud across a summer sky. 

Our thinking and feeling adjust accordingly.

Yet, we’re all too happy in our zeal to kick, cancel, or otherwise shame our rival to pull up an old post and publish with taglines such as, “This didn’t age well.”

When I see this, I can’t help but wonder about what hasn’t aged well in my own thinking.

I’m a good driver, but you wouldn’t agree. 

I know this because my family has complained that I’m a bad driver for years. I disagree, of course, because, well, I’m a good driver. 

My driving record agrees with me. Over 35 years of driving in all weather conditions and with hellish commutes, I have exactly one minor fender bender and a dead deer on my record.

“I’m the guy you want at the wheel. I’ll get you there safely and quickly.”

At the same time, I make passengers uncomfortable, fearful, and sometimes physically ill. Because I’m not a good driver. 

What we have here is a difference in our definitions of good based on our shared yet separate experiences. We both experience the same events, yet our perspectives on those events are vastly different.

Good to me (the driver) means that I’m good at the physical operation of the vehicle in all conditions and all situations. Like you would consider Mario Andretti a good driver. 

Good to you (the passenger) means how my driving makes you feel. How smooth is the ride? Are we getting too close? Do we stop late and accelerate aggressively?

Once we understand each other’s definition, two things can happen: 1) we can communicate from common ground, and 2) we can develop empathy through each other’s perspectives.

Since I’ve become aware, I’m much more attentive to how my passengers feel. I’ve changed my behavior as a driver.

Now, where else is this happening?

I recently melted down at a Chipotle. 

The reason? Expectations.

This got me thinking about expectations in all aspects of my life.

Twenty-five years ago, on that same stretch of route 81, I wouldn’t have found any place to eat or get gas. Now I come unglued if my culinary desires aren’t met or the gas station isn’t on the right side of the highway. 

Twenty years ago, I was overjoyed if an internet search found anything remotely close. Now I’m pissed if the search engine can’t reach into my brain and figure out what I really wanted from my disjointed and misspelled typing. 

Fifteen years ago, I was happy to send a cryptic text message on a flip phone with a 3×4 alphanumeric keypad. Now I’m annoyed if my iPhone can’t properly predict the tense of my next word.

Ten years ago, I was content using my mirrors to back up. Now I curse the universe if my vehicle has a poorly lit, non-HD camera that doesn’t show me the “stop here” graphics.

Five years ago, I understood that shipping was a line item in addition to the product cost. Now I’m switching to a new store if shipping isn’t “included.”

One year ago, I didn’t give much thought to turning on the lights with my hand. Now I’m confused when I can’t yell at Alexa to do it for me.

Beware of your expectations. They can screw with your humanity. 

We didn’t always distrust. 

We used to trust many of the institutions that mattered. Occasionally we’d be disappointed. Maybe our trust was a little misplaced, but by and large, most of the institutions were generally trustworthy. 

Except companies (for-profit or non-profit). Their thin veils have always poorly hidden true motives. But we’ve always known that.

What’s happened with the others?

Politicians. A politician’s purpose is to keep their party in power — to win. Always true, but never before was the denial of due process in question. 

Elite universities. What thinking person could trust statements such as “biological sex isn’t real” and “awarding poor grades is violence.”

Experts. Unfortunately, the broadcast studio in every scientist and doctor’s pocket incentivizes them to pick sides and weaponize their status. 

Media. This one hurts the most because, historically, the media was an effective equalizer among the power bases — the great revealer of what’s under the rug. But alas, the media can no longer serve the two masters of public good and profit. They’ve had to choose sides. 

So who can we trust?

The constitution. The stubborn and lethargic bureaucracy has proven its ability to thwart the individual or team that means it harm. 

AI? Maybe, but it’s too soon. 

Your circle. Look them in the eye. Touch their hand. Mean what you say. Listen to what they say. Lead with empathy. See them as the broken, beautiful, complex, nuanced human that they are. 

Steven Pressfield. The War of Art. Read it. Then read the rest of his series on Resistance. 

We’re all stuck. We’re all distracted. And we’re all 100% complicit in our own inertia.

And yet…

Resistance. The World and its tribes have aligned with Resistance to grease the skids and lay the soft pillow of inertia before you. 

The tribes define the labels. They use the labels to trick you into thinking it’s us (good) versus them (evil). Resistance amplifies.

The only path to true winning starts with the mirror and ends with a private insurrection. 

“As artists and professionals [and humans] it is our obligation to enact our own internal revolution, a private insurrection in our own skulls. In the uprising we free ourselves from the tyranny of consumer culture. We overthrow the programming of advertising, movies, video games, magazines, TV, and MTV by which we have been hypnotized from the cradle. We unplug ourselves from the grid by recognizing that we will never cure our restlessness by contributing our disposable income to the bottom line of Bullshit, Inc, but only by doing our work.”

Steven Pressfield, The War of Art

The next time you look across the table or the Twitterverse at your (supposed) rival, remember that you have also contributed your fair share of disposable income to Bullshit, Inc. 

You’ve struggled. They’ve struggled. You’re actually on the same team. 

Now let’s align and defeat the true enemy. 

Apple’s tagline, coined in 1997 by its (supposed) rebel leader Steve Jobs, is “Think Different.”

Like all marketing taglines, it invokes an emotional response that helps you identify your tribe. And like all great taglines, it’s abstract enough that we can fit it into our personal worldview.

“I want to be different. I think of myself as different. These products are the flags that show the world that I’m different. I’m buying.”

Recently, Apple has made or at least threatened a couple of moves that seem hypocritical to the “Think Different” slogan. They’ve limited the use of AirDrop in China and threatened to drop Twitter from its platform. Although they’ve not released a formal statement as to the reasons, one can infer the following:

• They have limited AirDrop in China due to pressure/alignment with the Chinese government
• They have threatened to drop Twitter due to pressure/alignment with the political left

I often wonder how Steve Jobs would handle the current cultural climate. He loved to pit himself and his company against the establishment, but like many silicon valley moguls, he seemed a bit confused — a businessman with a Cali progressive twist. 

Both of these moves seem to go along with establishment thinking rather than thinking different. But is it hypocrisy?

Whenever we raise an eyebrow at a tribe that appears to be acting hypocritical, we must remember that their true ideology is gaining and maintaining power.

The rest is just a tagline.