The Devil You Don't Know Knows YOU

When Smarts Skip a Generation

Mom was a math whiz with degrees in chemistry and a career in hospital laboratories. Dad's a chemical engineer and spent 30 years on the university faculty and in labs of his own, on the leading edge of the biotech revolution.

Their son, as you might expect, remembers primary school science classes fondly. His 4th grade yearbook even records science as his "favorite" subject. But by high school, his tastes and predilection changed course. The boy slid through both chemistry and calculus with strong C's, after which he struggled to claim a C+ in Chem 101 and an outright F in Calc III as a college freshman. Three years and 16 distinct majors into his undergraduate experience, the boy realized he was better at his extracurriculars than "school" and switched majors for the 17th time with one objective in mind: stay in school 18 more months and qualify to keep his slot in the active duty Air Force.

It's been almost 20 years since that winter quarter; I can still see the TA scribbling across the blackboard (yes, with chalk and everything) while we huddled in our seats in the unheated, second floor classroom. I fought to comprehend the logic of infinite sequences and series--part of me knew the pain would be temporary; another part knew the pain, however short-lived, wasn't worth it. That quarter redefined my academic and professional trajectory (not to mention grade report). Having let my intellectual identity fall into disarray, I leaned on different criteria and came to define myself almost exclusively by my professional standing. It's a pretty easy trap for military types; you perform in competitive groups all the time and literally wear status symbols across your chest and shoulders every day.

I spent most of the inter-holiday period last week taking stock of who I am, what I'm about, and where I should be going. With a picture in-hand that's a bit higher resolution than last year's, I've managed to identify only a short list of lessons from which to launch my new year's resolve.

"New Year, New Chapter"

By no means will mine be the only article you come across on planning and strategizing for the new year. Between Christmastime and the end of January, we're normally inundated with thought pieces and "listicles" on everything from traditional resolutions to the traditional eschewing of resolutions. For your consideration, I've included a list of the key arguments:*

1. New Year's resolutions are powerful drivers of success
2. New Year's resolutions are futile and often fail to drive success
3. Setting goals year-round will drive success
4. Setting goals year-round can be a dangerous prelude to anxiety, depression, emotional trauma, and failure to achieve some or all of the previously set goals
5. We should all be doing more in the time we have available...because life is short and there's so much we can do in this world
6. We should all be doing less in the time we have available...because life is short and there's so much we can do to enjoy living in this world
7. Simplify your life through minimalism--reduce your worldly possessions and downsize your expectations
8. Enrich your life by living big, dreaming BIGGER, and OUTSIZING your expectations

*Please note, the preceding list is neither scientific nor all-inclusive. It's anecdotal at best...which doesn't mean it is isn't somewhat true, either.

I think using New Year's as an excuse to adopt a fresh outlook is still healthy, especially as winter sets in. But it gets old cruising through the season's click-bait to realize we still have no idea how to approach the task of self-improvement...let alone individual reinvention. Eight months ago, I reminded myself dutifully that the calendar is but a contrivance that needn't limit anyone. May 1st marked a "new year" for me, the start of a new chapter. I had loads of hope and a few goals to sustain the rest of 2021. Fast-forward to January 2022 and left in the year's wake is a tired, burned out carcass that looks a lot like the man who stared me down in the mirror this morning.

I know we're three days into the new year, so you're probably thinking, What the hell man...what're you waiting for?! Get on with it!! And maybe you're right. But let's get real, the year didn't "start" until yesterday--MONDAY. So as I study the goals I've already written down and the big events my family has in the next six months, I'm thinking through what I must do to achieve the goal that's proved most elusive. And most desirable. As my friend put it on New Year's Eve, Health and Peace in 2022.

"Do More With Less" is a Load of Horsesh*t

By now, if you've read this far, I'm going to assume you understand the reason why we always see so many articles about resolutions, goals, and self-improvement around the new year. Every individual experience is just that--individual. There's no way (that we know of) to prescribe a set of tasks or goals or a formula for everyone to use to achieve what they want to achieve and become the person they want to become. So take the following for what it's worth--one man's attempt to create order in a ever-rolling sea of chaos.

Do more with less. Such was the mantra among active duty leaders when I stepped into my first operational squadron in 2009. Back then everyone complained about being underfunded, undermanned, and overtasked. We were beneficiaries of Donald Rumsfeld's readiness philosophy, crafted in a time when building the armies you want and wished for--ahead of the potential wars to come--had fallen out of favor.

You go to war with the army you have, not the army you might want or wish to have at a later time.

It was 2004 and Rumsfeld, marshal of combat actions in Afghanistan and Iraq, was responding to sustained criticism about the lack of armor and other hardware our troops needed while engaged downrange. This was the same defense leader who dispensed quickly with Colin Powell's doctrine requiring certain criteria be met before committing Americans to battle. Ten years after committing more than 500,000 souls to a weeks-long effort in Kuwait in 1991, we put just 1,300 pairs of "boots on the ground" in November 2001, deploying no more than 100,000 nine years later. We spent billions of dollars in Afghanistan and Iraq yet found a way to sell short our troops' efforts constantly, not to mention the troops' efforts back home stateside where hundreds of thousands of active duty and reserve component service members toiled in the nation's defense.

As a missileer, the Air Force's elevation of nuclear operations to the "Number One Priority" became a running joke every time we cannibalized one launch site to build up another ahead of a visiting general officer or senior civilian. I never understood why we'd lie to the very people responsible to help us; I'd learn later that everyone knew the joke and seemed not to care--the game wasn't to get things fixed but look like a leader who made do with next to nothing. The commanders who could "clean up" their sites and put on a good face for the big wigs received favor. Not to mention additional rank and pay.

I 'did more with less' at every assignment, alongside men and women who'd signed up for something different. We took the funds and facilities we had and still built awesome teams and some kicka$$ operators, many of whom cut their teeth on equipment installed when their parents were in high school. Some of our maintenance write-ups had been around since we'd been in high school. The answer for fewer resources and time is simple: work more hours. Because "gettin' it done" means gettin' it done...by any means possible.

By the time I left my final assignment in April, I was used to doing more with less and saw separation from the military not as a chance to reset (though I said as much to a few people) but an opportunity to take the same number of hours per day and cram into them as many goals, objectives, visions, missions, and other detritus of ambition as possible. I started a new job in a new industry, opened one-then-two-then-three-then-two businesses, went back to work on a dormant writing project, started another from Page One, continued my academic research in the wee hours of morning, launched a podcast and released more than 20 episodes, and kept writing columns for Entrepreneur, LinkedIn, and my assorted blogs. All with a spouse who works full-time and two toddlers running around the house like we're filming "American Ninja Warrior: Crawlers Edition." BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT SUCCESS IS, RIGHT?!?! YOU'RE NOT TRYING--LET ALONE WINNING--IF YOU'RE NOT BLAZING AROUND TOWN WITH YOUR HAIR ON FIRE EVERY DAY AND PERPETUALLY DEAD TO THE WORLD EVERY NIGHT!!!! AMIRIGHT?!?!? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ??

I would've included a mask emoji on the spectrum of emotions, but I figured you got the point...we're all dealing with COVID, yeah? So anyway... ?? What a load of horsesh*t.

I'll never advocate against setting ambitious goals or being honest with yourself--and those close to you--about wanting more from life. Or about wanting to do more with the life you've got and the time you have left. I bought my wife a copy of Dan Buettner's The Blue Zones Challenge for Christmas knowing full well we'd launch into a four-week exercise that included calculating how many years we have left on Earth. Based on average life expectancies, I got 46-and-change. 46 years remaining. Kinda freaky and also a bit liberating. The very next question in the exercise didn't mince words: How do you feel about how you are spending your most precious currency--your time?

Ooh, right in the gut. Well I'll tell ya how I feel...not good. Not very good at all.

Because with all I have going on in my life, whether in my control or not, I can't articulate why (or whether) I'm so invested in all of it. And that's probably not good. So instead of striving to Do More With Less, I'm going to Do Less For More.

1. For a host of reasons, I worry every day about how much I've failed as a father and husband. Finding my groove as a professional is part of my responsibility as a parent and spouse, and that will include sacrificing time I'd rather spend with them to serve clients, colleagues, and the wider community. But nothing can (or should) overshadow a focus on my wife and sons; what matters is that I'm crystal clear on those priorities with everyone I meet.
2. Notwithstanding the requisite effort for #1?? above--as a professional, I will show up daily and put in the effort necessary to become, and remain, the best that I can be at doing what I do. That means mastering technical skills and the less-tangible capacity to interact with, and teach, anyone whom I come across...so that they leave our conversation better for the opportunity.
3. I will move every day, deliberately. Not just because of our Blue Zones Challenge but because it's consistent with doing less...I'll not plan workouts, per se, but have a weekly goal. During the racing season, weekly mileage or routes should suffice; otherwise, near-constant movement and walking as a default mode of transport whenever it's feasible. And you know what? That's all I'll plan on...
4. I had three, four...maybe seven or eight...other items I wanted to include on this list. My rational mind (more on that shortly) looks at a list of three measly things and thinks, 'You're leaving a lot on the table, Arun. Let's get real and get after it!' And maybe he's right; he's speaking to me in my own voice, so I'm inclined to trust him. But his record is atrocious...so I have to take a step back and wonder whose interest he really has in mind. GFY, dude; I won't add anything more to this list. Not because I won't do more, but because the longer your priorities list is, the less likely you are to stick to those priorities! If everything is important, than nothing is important. Lord knows I've said that a bunch of times...perhaps it's time to take the maxim out for a spin.

Why Am I Such an A$$hole?

I mentioned my rational mind earlier, ever-present during my waking hours and never shy about sharing his opinion. Humans have an amazing imaginative capacity that results in spectacular inventions and advancements when coupled with the rational, analytical mind. Until recently, I'd felt good about having a mind that's highly analytical and always seeking the logic train embedded in someone's argument. Then a friend of mine, over breakfast last week, explained that as powerful as our intellect can be in driving professional success, that same intellect can use its own power against us. "Intelligence can take the critical voices of others as its own," she explained; our intelligence appropriates voices from our past and present such that the criticism and self-doubt you 'hear' constantly is delivered in your voice...making those voices easier to trust and believe. She went on to say that the belief you develop in those voices is what provides the necessary foundation for the argument against your agency and efficacy in life.

Damn.

I trust this friend and am inclined to agree with her; but on that day, her assertion hit me like a ton of bricks. Twice. Because less than 48 hours prior, I was studying the creation story in Genesis. That's right, first book in the Holy Bible. In particular, the idea that intelligence and our propensity for evil are linked. ??

Genesis provides a story of the universe's--and humanity's--creation for adherents of the Abrahamic religious traditions...Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. God creates "the heavens and the earth," followed by the Garden of Eden and the two humans charged with its care--Adam and Eve. And His one rule?

You may freely eat the fruit of every tree in the garden--except the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. If you eat its fruit, you are sure to die. (Genesis 2:16-17, NLT)

According to the story, Adam and Eve tend to the garden and have free reign; they just can't eat of the one tree. So when the Serpent approaches Eve and lures her to eat of that fruit, humanity takes on its "original sin" and is forever cursed to endure pain and suffering and to sacrifice the present for the future through daily work. But the immediate effect for both Adam and Eve is to have their "eyes...opened" and to succumb to the shame any of us would feel today, being found naked in public. This is humanity's "fall" from grace with God and is associated with the development of our self-conscious, rational minds. Ahhhh-haaaa... ??

This is not an attempt to proselytize and I don't expect you to take any of the preceding explanation at face value. For me, the Biblical stories carry significance--even if they're not strictly "history" in a contemporary sense. There's certainly something to be learned from the metaphors buried in the details. Especially when we can't, as a species, explain how and why our consciousness originates in the first place.

Ever wonder why movie villains are always so damn smart? No matter how evil their plans, or how dumb their henchmen, the masterminds who face off with Batman, Superman, James Bond, and Inspector Gadget (and countless other heroes) tend to exhibit superior intelligence and a logically consistent mode of being, including the reasons why they're so pissed off with the universe in the first place. You may not agree with them, but often you find yourself giving their argument at least a modicum of shrift. Which you should; that's what it means to "give the Devil his due." But what's virtually inescapable is the deep connection between evil and being wicked smart. There is a relationship between evil and conscious intelligence we seem to have captured in our myths, legends, and parables, that together manifest in a range of personalities--the Joker, Lex Luthor, Goldfinger, and Dr. Claw. Why?

I'm asking why I'm an a$$hole not to be self-deprecating. I have to ask because I can be a serious jerk to myself. Alone, when no one's around. Which, inside my own head, is all the time. Just as the Serpent employed logic in his argument with Eve, the 'serpent' in our own minds (our intellect) employs a ruthless logic in steering our thoughts, beliefs, and daily actions. Its highly analytical mode of being can yield, through our ethical action, inventions like the printing press and CRISPR. At the same time, it can disguise counterproductive self-talk as well-reasoned, constructive criticism and fault-finding. Imagine your most evil villain--your worst nightmare--lodged deep inside your brain, responsible (at least in part) for the consciousness you employ every minute of the day to make decisions and live beyond mere survival. It seems we may have captured this lesson millennia ago yet re-learn it to the person, throughout the course of every life. They say "the devil you know is better than the devil you don't," implying it's better at least to confront your villains in full view. I'd agree, except I now wonder if the devil I didn't know was a far more conniving and dangerous one...not for his smarts, but the fact that there's no other villain imaginable who could know me as well as he does.

Can I Have a Turn?

So I've given the Devil his "due" many times over. I allowed a hyper-analytical, rational, well-practiced version of me consume minutes in the day that could have been better spent. Spent in service to better ideas, higher causes, truer callings. Who knows what 2022 will bring, and if I'll be successful Doing Less For More? But with a fuller picture of what I'm up against, I sure as hell am not giving up with a fight.