I write, but probably not for the same reason most people do it.
1: My Understanding
Without exaggeration, I have consumed hundreds of books and book summaries, hundreds of TEDtalks, and ~10,000 Hacker News articles, as well as whatever other crap I have hoarded from the internet, most of it nonfiction. A huge portion of my time would have been better spent touching grass and watching sunsets.
In my journeys, I have come to realize that the most durable and time-resistant form of understanding comes through the ability to teach something to a 12-year-old. In particular, I discovered Up Goer Five and Reddit’s ELI5, then saw that my best high school and college professors used variants on Whole Brain Teaching.
As we age, life becomes more complex. It’s good to maintain order in that complexity, since it gives a map on how to live. Therefore, I write because I want to make sense of things.
2: Your Understanding
I know what I make can’t compare to the absolute brilliance present in the smartest minds of our time.
All I’m good at is keeping things precise while summarizing and simplifying.
I consider a huge portion of my past writing a failed attempt, to the point of downgrading it from proper essays to a simple public commonplacing.
However, all the consuming I’ve done isn’t a total waste, and I have opinions that may still matter. My hope is that God will capitalize on those and history will forget the endless text-based blathering I generated.
3: My Fear of Ignorance
I have a crippling fear of impostor syndrome, and want to understand something deeply to know how best to decide and act. Jargon is often shorthand for otherwise simple ideas, though it can be useful for specificity. We frequently engage so heavily in our craft that we forget this.
All ideas are inspired by other ideas, but most in-depth concepts reside in a vacuum of abstracted logic. If I can connect those ideas to more practical things, I can understand how the best minds understand it.
I’m very trend-resistant because I hate learning useless information. I’ve noticed most implementations move around every few months or years, but their abstractions frequently don’t change at all.
Therefore, beyond actual understanding, I want to feel like I understand, which is a far higher bar to set.
4: My Fear of Worthlessness
At varying points in my past, I’ve wanted to be a philosopher, therapist, teacher, technical guru, and a few other things. My writing is because I have power to write, and I’ve gotten feedback that validates that I give new perspective to others.
Beyond anything, I’d prefer everyone live in harmony, happily working together in their own way, having the grace to accept each other. I also know I’m utterly delusional, and this world loves exploiting idealism.
5: My Fear of The Unknown
I’ve neglected to place the following in front of every assertion I make:
- “I believe…”
- “I don’t entirely know 100%, but…”
- “I’m convinced of this, but I can’t prove entirely that…”
- “From what I understand…”
- “I’ve read something that said…”
If I can speak certainty into existence, it can be manipulated.
I also don’t have the confidence I used to, though. Every implementation of logic is a slice (e.g., if A then not B has now defined A or B), and not all slices are made correctly. I’ve made some severe mistakes, and am now more afraid to carry that certainty into the future.
6: I Don’t Always Know
My purpose isn’t always clear:
- Starting in 2014, I had identified as the Philosopher Accountant, but I gave up on that sometime around 2018.
- I once had a purpose to fight the over-information age, but I have been broken as of 2024, and that purpose has died with it.
My story is still unveiling itself as I go, so I’m not sure what to live for at this point. I may just be wasting your time. God knows everyone these days has a podcast, and it may be wiser to explore someone else’s work if they’re more interesting than what I offer.