Information Today is Different

Information is altering our species’ trajectory. And right now it doesn’t look good.

It’s all too easy to blame ‘technology’ as the culprit. “Social media is messing us up…  everyone is staring at their phones all the time… everybody is addicted to their feed…” Our phones, or the internet, or social media, or ‘technology’ seem to be negatively influencing society. But what does this actually mean?

The very information we consume is changing. The way we consume it has changed, the amount of information we consume has grown, and the scale of information proliferation and consumption has never before been like this in human history.

Put another way, our relationship with information is fundamentally different in 2024, then… ever.

Let’s go back to the 1990’s. Let’s assume you’re someone highly interested in current events, local national and international news, politics and the economy, all of it. You would read the newspaper in the morning. Perhaps you would listen to the radio on your way to work. Maybe discuss current events with some of your coworkers in the break room. After dinner you’d watch the evening news for a bit. Maybe even before bed you’d read one of your magazine subscriptions, something “serious” like The Economist or National Geographic. That would be your information diet for the day.

Fast forward to 2024. If I’m not careful, I’ll listen to NPR’s “Up First” while exercising first thing in the morning. I’ll listen to another podcast while getting ready for work. On my commute I might read on my phone (I take public transit, but I’ve seen people do this while driving). Starting up my computer in the office, I open up my email, where the New York Times “The Morning” is waiting for me. I’ll scan that as I clear my inbox. I might listen to yet another podcast during my lunch walk. Upon quitting time, I might listen to more podcasts on my way home. Any chores like vacuuming, laundry or doing the dishes? I’m listening to podcasts. Then there’s the doom scrolling on my phone between dinner and bed. Think about this. How much consumption is happening throughout a day like this? (I’ve written about this before). This is a normal day for a lot of people! This information diet, compared to the average one in the 1990’s, is HUGE.

The quantity, quality, speed, and delivery of information have all drastically changed.

Quantity. Instead of a few prominent newspapers and 4 networks, there are thousands of information sources, . Almost every developed region of the world has a local paper. TV channels exist by the thousand for many countries. There’s YouTube and millions of other websites. Social media and other mobile platforms assimilate all the information. Hell, you can search for anything at any time, with the search bar that exists on all our devices. Just look at Leo’s statistics from my Brave search.

Quality. This explosion in quantity naturally affects the quality of information. Democratization of the news has many benefits, but it also means more people are spreading information, without necessarily verifying it. When it’s not your job, when your livelihood is not dependent on verifying facts and responsible journalism, there are no consequences to sharing interesting stories, irrespective of truth. Everyone is sharing information now, and this has negatively affected information quality.

Speed. In the 1700’s it took months to hear back from another continent. The Pony Express of the mid 1800’s could deliver information across (half) the U.S. in 10 days. Wires crisscrossing the Earth’s crust now enable near instant information sharing. We receive, and expect, information immediately. This impacts how we operate in modern society. It makes it difficult to be present, when there’s inherent anticipation of more information. The higher quantity of lower quality information incessantly bombards us.  

Delivery. In my 1990’s example I listed the different mediums available for information consumption: the radio, the TV, and text (primarily books, newspapers and magazines). We all know how most people consume information today: the internet, mostly through social media. Content is generated and organized solely with your attention in mind, because that’s how platforms and creators make money. We are choosing what information we consume less than ever before, our consumption dominated by the infamous doom scroll as our brain circuitry has adapted to constant information delivery.

This drastic change in quantity, quality, speed, and delivery of information is reshaping how we think, feel, and engage with the world. We know the consequences all too well. Anxiety and polarization feel rampant. Distrust in institutions and leadership is at an all-time high. When thinking about the future, it seems we all see a bleak picture.

But it’s not hopeless. We can advocate for transparency and change, demanding better from our policymakers and BigTech. There are also simple (simple, not easy) solutions each of us can take. We can limit our phone use; instead of a magic boredom relief device, I’m trying to only use it for these 5 things:

1. Calls

2. Texts

3. Photos

4. Maps

5. Audio (songs, books & podcasts, in that order)

We can make phones tools again. We can focus on conscientious consumption: “why am I looking at this? Is it just because I’m bored? Is this reliable information?” This Reddit guide proves a useful start. We can retake ownership of our relationship to, and consumption of, information. We can take back control. We just have to decide it’s important.

Living Beautifully

Living a beautiful life is simple. Here’s how.

Embrace the reality of this particle soup, the universe. We are temporary configurations of atoms and cells.

Contribute. We find purpose through contribution.

Love. We experience meaning by loving.

Make art, in whatever form moves you.

Compete with others and have fun.

Stay off your phone.

Learn all you can about whatever interests you.

(Regularly) consider our collective moment here, on this planet, together.

That’s it. We can live beautifully actualizing these 85 words. Let’s go live.

Don't Forget to Live

The other day I asked my wife, "I'm not lazy right?" She assured me I wasn't. The thing is, I carry around a lot of productivity guilt. My parents raised me with high standards, a good thing, but I'm still figuring out the right balance for myself. I put pressure on myself to be productive, and this pressure builds stress and saps happiness. Maybe I'm just Type A. I'm very conscientious of time (some would call it obsessive), and always want to feel like I'm controlling my life, that I'm producing the results I want. Then I realized, perhaps my focus on "contribution" was doing more harm than good.

Dragon’s Backbone Terraces north of Guilin, China - May 2013

So I recently decided to change the purpose proclamation in my Morning Saying, from "contribute to the universe" to "live." Because I have put too much pressure on myself. In general I work really hard, but not all the time, and that's okay. I don't have to work hard every single moment of every single day. That shouldn't be the bar for my satisfaction or fulfillment. It shouldn't determine my self-worth. On my death bed, will I look back and lament not working harder? I don't think so. I think I'll reflect on how much I've truly lived. It's like that Braveheart quote: "every man dies, but not every man really lives." I want to live a wild, fulfilling and free life. This will include, but not be wholly encompassed by, my contribution to the universe. Some of the meaning in my life will derive from how much joy I experience, how much I've loved, and the time spent with who I love. Meaning can come from feeling, and simply living, too. It doesn't have to solely derive from results.

Besides, we're not meant to work hard all the time. Cal Newport talks about this on multiple scales: some parts of your day you work harder than others, some weeks you work harder than others, some seasons of the year you work harder than others, some parts of a decade might comparatively be comprised of harder work. This is “natural,” it’s biological. Just as our bodies are set to the sun, our circadian rhythm dictating our biological processes, we’re also meant to have periods of activity and periods of rest. We are not wired to go full throttle all the time. I’m learning that in my professional life—in staving off burnout, and in my personal life. After overcoming an injury (from overtraining) and running a race, I'm now giving my body some time to rest. It's okay to rest sometimes. As Jules Renard says, it only becomes laziness when it's "resting before you get tired."

...

I've written a lot about the notion of contribution. That we should think about contribution because it grounds our lives within the larger context of the universe—we are here for only a short time, in this very place (our beautiful Earth) in this very moment (today, and however long we live). We don't live forever; we all die. So while we are here, to experience meaning, we can consider our contribution as our unique variable within the universal equation. There's so much to the equation we can't control... physical laws we can't break, perspectives and opinions of other people... but we can control ourselves. It is our last and greatest power: we fully own our contribution to the universe. We control our variable in this grand equation, and that variable, however small, has an impact on this particle soup of atoms. Knowing our unique variable contributes to the math of the universe is an encouraging and empowering thought.

Admiring the streets of Reno, February 2023

And yet, I've realized recently that if we obsess over contribution, about what we're producing in this world, we may be missing something. I think I've been missing something, not seeing the whole beautiful picture because I'm compulsively, constantly evaluating my contribution. Maybe "life" in the universe should just dance. Consider: atoms in the universe have somehow organized into living organic matter, into cells, into complex biological organisms like monkeys and belugas and hummingbirds and giraffes. And humans. We humans are special. We can manipulate our environment, to significant consequences. Humans, with our large heavily myelinated brains and opposable thumbs and advanced circulatory systems are capable of changing the world, changing the future. Every one of us can contribute to this change. But maybe that's all icing on the cake. Maybe the cake is simply being alive. Give the universe enough time and homo sapiens arrive. Perhaps our purpose is simply being here, despite the odds, and perhaps the best way to celebrate this miracle is by simply living freely. Maybe we are the dance. Maybe that's our purpose, to just dance. Maybe this is step one: to understand this miracle, to celebrate it. Maybe just dancing unlocks our goodness.

And from there we can contribute. By recognizing the miracle that we are, by dancing with the light of consciousness and screaming wildly into the void, we can fully appreciate our fortune. We can simply live. And then we can more easily contribute, without any pressure or stress, without prejudgment of how we should contribute. Maybe we let the winds of physics and chemistry, our very biology, determine how we contribute.

About all this I wonder. So now I say:

At dawn I rise to start anew

I set my path from now

My purpose: to live

Words hold sway but are mere tools to convey this experience

I utter these consciously and with conviction

I am the Universe

I am the stuff of stars

I am atoms and cells

I am Life

I am ethereal

I am kind

I am powerful

I am humble

I am open

I am life

I am alive.

I’ll continue to workshop it. But I’ve started giving myself permission to let go of my expectations, to not be so hard on myself. To enjoy periods of rest and inactivity and not feel guilty about it. To truly live with presence and joy and wild abandon when it feels right to do so, without that back-of-the mind voice whispering doubts. We should work hard, have a sense of respect and responsibility and resolve, and contribute in some way. But step one is to recognize this is a miracle, that we get to live. So go live.

Occasionally I’ve tried a much shorter and simpler version of my Morning Saying, one that’s only 11 syllables, and I’ll close with that:

I am alive

But I will die

So go live

Election Day is the Beginning

It feels as though the very air is swirling with hysteria today. Many are panicking. What will our legislatures look like? Who will be our next President? Will we even know the results?

It’s all going to be alright.

Today should not be scary. No matter what happens, we the people hold power. That will be true tomorrow. And the day after that, and the day after that. It will remain true as long as we want it to be true. This should be comforting, and compel us to act.

The present can feel utterly paramount. We tend not to look at an event as one among many in history, but instead feel overwhelmed by its occurrence right now. Yes, this election is consequential, just like all the ones before it. But what happens after today is far more important. The fate of our country will not be determined by one person. It won’t even be determined by Congress (of which I’ve argued is more important). The fate of the United States will be determined by its citizenry. Because right now, it is the people who self-govern. We the people have the ability to choose our leadership, to dictate the nation's policies. As the country is currently constructed, with our Constitution and amendments and laws, we the people are the most powerful entity in the land.

Corporations and the military industrial complex don’t want us to realize that. They want us to think they’re in control. But they’re not. Our future is completely up to us. We must only organize, that is all. We organize, and we accomplish our wildest dreams. Because we are more similar than we are different. We do want the same things; we all want the opportunity for a good life. We hold the power to make it happen. We are citizens, not subjects.

Self-governance requires work. It’s not easy. If we wanted to be lazy, we could elect a despot and ask Congress for the corporations and military industrial complex to take over. If we didn't want to do any work, they would be more than happy to do the work for us. But we would have no control, no say in our nation’s policies. Consolidated power rules for the sole welfare of that consolidation. We must rule ourselves, for ourselves.

And we can all self-govern in 5 basic ways:

• Stay informed

• Discuss important issues with other citizens

• Demand the policy we want from leadership officials

• Volunteer in our communities

• Vote for the laws and leadership that reflect our values

If we take these basic actions, the will of the people prevails.

It’s not foolhardy to brace for impact—a large swathe of the country will be unhappy tonight (or more likely, later this week). But it’s important for us to recognize that tonight is not the end, no matter the results. We can choose to see it as a beginning. We can choose to use these turbulent and polarized times as a foundation from which to work on reunification as Americans, as one people.

I feel calm. Regardless of the outcome, I know I will need to continue to show up for my country and for my people. I’ll need to express my opinions and concerns to my representatives. I’ll need to continue writing open letters to leadership. I’ll need to continue having political conversations with my compatriots. And I’ll need to keep volunteering and voting. None of this changes if Trump or Harris is elected.

The stakes may feel greater now, with the rhetoric on both sides. It’s natural and understandable to feel anxious about the possibility of what will happen. But this simply may be the calling of our times. Maybe this is our destiny. Maybe we will be defined by our actions after this election. To wilt before our reality does no good. As J.R.R. Tolkien wisely sympathizes in The Lord of the Rings, "So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."

What will future generations say about us? “In their time, democracy was in danger. The government appeared captured. It was grim. But they stood up and ensured democracy endured. They made the world we enjoy today possible. They did what was right. I’m grateful they were strong and just and true.”

Is this what they'll say? The choice is ours.

Steven’s Speech

All memory of you is gone after 2 generations. Think about it: how well did you know your great grandparents? Probably very little or not at all, right? The same will be true for the children of your children’s children. You’ll be long gone. Maybe it all really is meaningless.

At least that's what conventional wisdom would have you believe.

I reject this reasoning. And I believe collectively rejecting this notion is the key to success for our species. We are not gone after 2 generations. Our impact lives on forever. What we do matters. Steven's speech proves it.

One of my best friends got married in 2016, about a year after I returned home from living abroad. It was a beautiful wedding in Ventura, California, and I was honored to be a part of it. I will always remember the speech his father gave at the reception. It was the most unique wedding speech I've ever heard.

He received the microphone and said simply, “My name is Steven, I am Gentry’s father. There are many people who came before Gentry and Emma who sacrificed, who worked hard for their family, allowing Gentry and Emma to meet. I’d like to read the names of these individuals to honor them and their role in bringing Gentry and Emma together.”

He then proceeded to read aloud the names of Gentry and Emma's extended family. It was humbling to hear these names, their relationship to the couple, and to realize he was right: these people actually made it possible for Gentry and Emma to come together. Without them, they would never be here, they never would have met. All of us gathered together that day, in celebration of their union, was a result of the sacrifice and hard work of so many people. It didn't matter whether these people were long gone or still with us, their sacrifices and their impact endured. Gentry and Emma lived through them; their love and their marriage was a culmination of these individuals' impact. One culmination among many before, and many to come. “Henry Fletcher, Gentry's great great grandfather, who came to California in… Mauve Palmer, Emma's grandmother, who met and married Cedric Townsend, Emma's grandfather…”

Hiking in Angeles National Forest outside LA for Gentry’s bachelor party - May 2016

Steven is no longer with us today after a long, stoic battle with cancer. I message Gentry on the date of Steven's passing every year to send his family love, telling him I still think about his dad, that I’m thankful to have met him and that he lives on through Gentry. I know I never would have met Gentry if it wasn't for his father.

I believe this story illuminates the truth about our impact on this Earth. Gentry's two young sons, just 2 generations after Steven, may not remember their grandfather, but their births happened because of him. Their lives are forever impacted by Steven's love and his life. And one day when these boys grow up and have families of their own, it will have been possible because of Steven's impact.

There's this quote commonly misattributed to the artist Bansky: "They say you die twice. Once when you stop breathing and the second, a bit later on, when somebody mentions your name for the last time." Steven's story refutes this assertion. It doesn’t matter when your name is uttered for the last time. Your impact lives on.

I think author Terry Pratchett was closer to the truth: "No one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away, until the clock wound up winds down, until the wine she made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone's life is only the core of their actual existence." We live on through the repercussions of our actions taken, through the impact we made on other people, through our contribution to humanity, the world, and the larger universe.

...

Two groups of three generations of Deussen’s at a family reunion in Mesa Verde National Park - August 2017

I remember visiting my great grandparents when I was very young. My mom's dad's parents were Bertha and Emilio—I have vague recollections of their small New York apartment. It smelled funny to me.

Great grandma Helen, my dad's dad's mom, lived in a mobile home in San Bernardino, and I remember not being allowed to touch anything because everything was breakable or stored on glass tables or glass cabinets.

My Great Granny Vena, who in some ways so resembled my Granny (my mom's mom), was a cute little old lady with a big smile. Her husband James, my great great grandfather, died young, meaning she raised 3 children on her own—one of whom was my Granny, who had a profound impact on my life.

And I remember going to visit my great grandma Virginia, my paternal grandpa’s mom, when I was 8 or 9 years old, to say goodbye near the end of her life. She brought 9 children into this world and was a riot, always brash with what she thought. I never knew my great grandfather Russel on my dad's mom's side, or my great grandfather Raymond on my dad’s dad’s side. But they still impacted my life just like my other great grandparents. All of them shaped who I am today, three generations later, even if indirectly, even if remotely. It’s humbling to know all 8 of my great grandparents were no doubt shaped by their ancestors many generations before.

My Granny and I were roommates during the best safari I’ve ever been on. Zimbabwe - September 2010

I think about this with my unborn daughter. She will only know 2 of her great grandparents. But I hope to convey how much they all shaped her parents' lives. They brought my wife and I together, and thus her. They will live on through her.

We live on the shoulders of those who came before. The memory of a person may fade after 2 generations, but their impact is undiminished. None of us would be here today if our ancestors didn’t strive for life. Thus what we do matters. It affects those after us; they will inherit the world we leave them. What kind of world will they receive? Will they thank us or curse us? This responsibility is bequeathed to us from our ancestors, and it's our discretion that will determine how we pass the torch of consciousness.

It’s beautiful in a way, this biological system, and I feel comforted knowing my place within my line. So many came before me, and more will follow after I'm gone. We may not live forever, but we all have the power to truly change the world. We just may not see all of our impact within our lifetime. But “a society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.”

Things I wish the President would say

“I’m not perfect. I make mistakes. But I do my best, I own my mistakes, and I will always be honest about my mistakes.”

“I don’t have all the answers. Sometimes I respond to questions with ‘I don’t know.’ But I promise to find the answers to all the important questions to the best of my ability.”

The President doesn't have to be infallible. But the President should be honest and aware.

“The United States is one nation among 195 on this planet. We all share this one world, with nowhere else to go. We must do all we can as a people to live in harmony with all other peoples.”

“The United State of America is an experiment in democracy. We haven’t figured everything out. We need to be open, we need to consider new ideas. We must also remember the good that brought us here. I am proud to be American. But I recognize we can also do much better, and should do much better, as a country."

The President should demonstrate a capacity for openness and holistic thinking.

“My job is to serve the will of the people, not a political party. I want to hear directly from you so I know what’s important to you. Meet me at next week’s town hall in...”

“Republicans and Democrats are made up of ordinary people. Neither side is evil. And we mostly want the same things. Let’s work together on those things, and have honest debate about the things we don’t agree on.”

The President should partner with the people; they should be the primary stakeholders.

“My job is to serve the people. I am your humble public servant. What would you have me do?"

Any President can say these things. We can demand it as citizens, as self-governors. Will we?

How to Vote

Rhetoric dominates elections. What did Trump just say? How did Kamala answer that question? Vance and Walz said what?

Yes, this matters. How a candidate speaks is important. A person whose words invoke hate and fear is not a good leader. Because the President is the country's primary spokesperson. They are the primary representative of 345 million people, the top diplomat to every other nation. How presidents communicate matters, how they see the world matters, and what they say matters.

And yet, rhetoric is not the best criterion for evaluating candidates.

For one, lies are nothing new to politics. Candidates have lied for the entirety of this country’s elections, starting with the very first one. Adams called Jefferson a coward, accused him of having an affair with one of his slaves, and claimed he would emancipate all slaves if elected. Jefferson decried Adams as a wannabe king and called him fat.

Sound familiar at all?

You might then ask, well, how do we choose presidential candidates if not by their rhetoric? One word: record.

The candidate’s record is the most important evaluation criterion. What have they actually done, what have they voted for in the past?

This is partly what made Trump such an outlier in 2016; we had never had a political candidate who had zero political, military, or governmental experience. There are only five other people who became president without previously holding an elected office:

• Zachary Taylor - career military officer

• Ulysses S. Grant - career military officer

• William Howard Taft - former lawyer, Secretary of War under Teddy Roosevelt

• Herbert Hoover - Secretary of Commerce under Warren Harding and Calvin Coolidge

• Dwight D. Eisenhower - career military officer

Right or wrong, these five men had all previously worked within the government or the law, either directly in the military, or through a Secretary position. So they all had some political experience, even if it was minimal or merely by extension.

Trump truly had none. Of course, this doesn't mean that a person with zero experience is a bad fit for president. Nothing in the Constitution says you must have previously held an elected office. However, in 2016 at least, all voters could evaluate was Trump's rhetoric, because he had no record of political action.

Well, 8 years later, there's a lot more evidence to evaluate. And that’s where to start: with their record. Sit with it and determine whether you approve or agree. Did they sit out any important votes? How did they vote on the things you care about most? Did they always vote according to the party line, or did they display some courage by voting against their party in certain circumstances?

Once you have an understanding of their record, you can more reasonably know what to expect from them in office. It's unlikely a person would completely change their voting behavior, especially if they've been in politics for a long time. (Of course, if someone is in office for a long time, it's easier to see trends and how their opinions may have shifted over time, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. People should change their opinion if presented with new evidence.) Something else to note: it doesn't have to be a voting record. Trump has never 'voted' on anything within a legislative body of the United States government. However, you can look at the bills he vetoed versus the ones he signed. Same with any previous executive official—what they sign into law is evidence of their work as an elected official, and a strong indicator of what they may do if they get into office again.

You can then compare this record to the candidate's rhetoric. Does what they say on the campaign trail match what they've actually done in the past? If not, why could this be? This is where you have to make a judgement—do you think they've truly, fundamentally changed on an issue? Or are they just moving with the political winds of popularity, saying what they think voters want to hear, simply to get elected? Large divides between a candidate's words and actions are likely cause for concern.

This method of starting with record, then moving to rhetoric, is better than just relying on one or the other, or starting with the rhetoric itself. It enables you to start with the evidence, so you can hold a person’s words against said evidence. It grounds the rhetoric within reality. The bluster matters—it’s how a president represents us as a people. But bluster often correlates little with policy. Hold the rhetoric, and review the record.

Tom Petty and 5 Years of TAV

We went up to Berkeley last Friday night to see Petty Theft, a Tom Petty tribute band. Clever name right? It was a fun way to celebrate his birthday, and it made me think about Tom’s music again.

I wrote my own tribute when he died back in 2017. His music still brings waves of nostalgia, but it’s more than that. Tom’s lyrics reassure we all deal with the banality of life, but they also provide hope. His music says, “you know those things about life that make it grand, or make it suck sometimes? I feel them too. It’s a wild world. And that’s part of what makes it great, the ride.”

Then there’s the sound: the epitome of Americana. It varies throughout the albums and decades, but there’s something timeless about his sound. It’s almost a rite of passage, as if you have to experience Tom Petty’s music in order to grow up American.

Petty Theft concert at Cornerstone Bar in Berkeley, CA last weekend

I don’t mean to lionize his memory. But he did take a stand against the big record labels and the corruption in the music industry, he sang and spoke from his heart as just an ‘ordinary’ guy, and he appeared to truly love his family. To me those are worthy enough qualifiers to revere him and his contribution of music.

And he’s gone, he's been gone. I still can’t believe it sometimes, like I’m living in some bizarro backwards world. His death makes me think about contribution—which I’ve written about before (see one, two, three, four). I believe Tom significantly contributed to the universe. Music is a wonderful way to contribute, because it awakens the soul. When listening to Tom Petty my soul is alive, it’s free, it raucously tears up any pieces of despair and caution and throws them to the wind.

We all get to find our own way to contribute. I want my writing to be my way.

Not only was it Tom Petty’s birthday, but tomorrow marks the 5(!) year anniversary of this blog. I still remember my decision, my resolution, back in October 2019, to contribute to the universe by writing this blog consistently. My wife (then fiancée) and I were living in Arusha, working with the Kyosei Foundation to bring better education conditions for local children. My perspective was different back then, but the mission for TAV remains unchanged: to convince people that we can change the world. Not politicians, not tech billionaires, not scientists or startups or corporations. Us ordinary people. In talking with people all around the world I try to show that we are more similar than we are different, and that we all want the same things.

Building a school outside Arusha, October 2019

How to change the world has not changed since that post in 2019. It’s still imperative for us to recognize that we inhabit one big beautiful amazing world together. We still need to develop global consciousness so that we can unite humanity around our sameness and shared circumstances and values. We can still inspire change in others. There is still hope in the world—we are that hope. We can contribute to a better world, a beautiful future. I firmly believe this to my core.

But I have changed, and so has TAV. Here's my 5 year update…

Blog Schedule

New blog posts go live every Tuesday and Friday. I’ve adopted this publishing cadence to focus on quality over quantity. I work to bring my very best to you each week, from my unique perspective.

Paradigms: A Path to Global Consciousness

I have the beginnings of my book and am looking for an agent. If you know anyone who might be interested in representing me to publishers, please let me know! I believe a long-form exploration of global consciousness will unlock its understanding and urgency to millions of people.

Photography

I continue to take photos almost daily. Ever since I seriously started taking photos in the 2010’s, I’ve tried to capture the beauty and glory of Earth, from its landscapes, wildlife, and people. My photography will soon be for sale. Only a limited number of each piece will be available, and most of the sale revenue will go to charity. Stay tuned for details.

Merch

You can buy t-shirts! Wearing a TAV shirt is a great way to build awareness—these shirts are designed to spur critical thinking for those who see them. Again, most sale revenue will go to charity. If you want a certain phrase or shirt design, send me a message at hey@trevorallenvision.com.

Soon to come

• Still having conversations around my podcast. Garrulous Banter will appear soon, featuring some great guests

• I’m finalizing a Patreon account so you can support my work directly, if you so desire. Every little bit helps!

If you’re still reading this, thank you for sticking with me. This has been an enlightening personal journey, and publishing my writing out to the world makes me feel whole and valued. It keeps me sane, it holds me accountable to being the best person I can be. And it enables me to contribute, in some small way.

I don’t know what the future holds. But I know if we band together as a species, celebrate the fantastic reality we all share and thus the opportunity we share, that we can change the world.

I think Tom Petty would agree with me.

The Question of Who to Vote for

A while back I wrote about the upcoming American Presidential election and how no one can foresee what will happen.

I’m surprised: I thought the rhetoric and attention toward the election would only increase. It might just be my limited news consumption, but the election seems to have faded from the front and center. I think people are tired. People want their lives to be better, and many are still struggling. And that’s the whole point of representative government: citizens elect trustworthy officials who serve them by focusing full-time on policy. Is it fair to say Americans are disillusioned with this system? I routinely hear, “Really? These are the two best people we’ve got to run the country? Does my vote even matter?” It matters—we have to push through. Voter fatigue and poor turnout are not only real, but understandable. People are tired of rhetoric--they want results.

Which is why it’s important to vote. We won’t get results without doing our due diligence, without acting on our responsibility as citizens in a democracy.

Electing a president is important. But electing our Congress is even more important. Why? We are a a nation of laws. Those who make and reform law are the ones in power. Think about it: there's only one group in the country that can make (federal) laws. No one else has this power. This same group of people is the only group who can change any existing law. This group is the 535 members of Congress. They can do things like:

• make laws

• declare war

• decide how federal money will be spent

The President can't do any of these things. The Constitution empowers Congress in more ways than the President. Thus we must maintain high standards when choosing our legislature, and, just as importantly, we must demand and direct Congress to act as we see fit. Sounds simple right? Simple, but not easy? We choose who shapes the law of the land. And we direct them to govern the way we want, to get the results we want. Almost all of us want the same things. This is doable. We just need to remember to act on our responsibilities as citizens.

Considering Boarding Anxiety

I felt anxious while waiting to board our flight back home from Phoenix. I kept asking myself, “why do I feel this way? I have a seat on this flight. We’re all going to get on, the flight is on time, we're in no rush. We have nowhere to be but home after this. It will all be fine.”

And I wondered...

Maybe it's a biological thing. Maybe we get nervous when we’re in crowded spaces with a lot of people. We aren't designed to live in hordes after all, but in small groups. I wonder if people in other cultures, from places like India and China that have huge populations, get as nervous or panicky as say Americans, where there are fewer people and more space. Americans live spread out, most in single family houses as opposed to apartments.

I thought back to my time in China, where there are huge crowds and many citizens behave aggressively. It was as if they learned they wouldn’t get served or seated if they didn't fight for it. I remember senior citizens cutting to the front of the line and physically pushing people out of their way. But perhaps those elderly people experienced perilous times I couldn’t imagine, like during the Cultural Revolution in the 20th century (when there was tremendous societal upheaval). I’m sure I would behave similarly if it meant the difference between eating and starving.

Such cultural differences might be our biggest barrier besides language to global consciousness. We’re closer to achieving instant universal translation through AI, the internet and our phones, but are we any better at understanding each other’s backgrounds, the cultural climates from which we’re from that influence our behavior?

When I tell others about my time in South Africa and China, I know they don’t truly get it. Understandably— they weren’t there. I can try to convey what it was like, to describe the setting as accurately as possible, but unless they have had some relevant experience somewhere similar, my story is completely lost on them. It’s the same for me regarding anything I haven’t experienced. I can’t understand what it’s like to live in Uzbekistan because I’ve never been there, not even to that part of the world. My closest approximation would be Russia or the edges of Tibet in western China. I’m sure those places are radically different than Uzbekistan.

However, I believe these cultural differences are a good thing for our species. It’s as if we’re one living organism, and diversity of experience helps broaden our overall understanding of the planet, of the universe, and of reality itself. More variance enables us to become more knowledgeable, more prepared, stronger. Cultural difference is not a blocker to global consciousness, as long as we maintain the practice of consideration.

Our super power as humans is our ability to think and see beyond what's right in front of us, our ability to consider. It’s how we’ve planned successful hunting expeditions as roaming tribes in Africa; how we’ve designed and built villages, cities, kingdoms and countries, how we build toward a better future. It’s a uniquely human trait, but innateness doesn’t guarantee use or performance. We have to exert our abilities. Fast sprinters who don’t train don’t win races.

Therefore we must deliberately practice consideration. Our ability to consider circumstances beyond our own is our salvation. It is what makes global consciousness possible, which is another way of saying, it makes coexistence across the planet possible. It makes sustainability possible, peace possible, prosperity possible. Our world is already a paradise for us and all other living things in it; our great responsibility is to extend the flame of consciousness, for our entire species and our entire miraculous world—the only place in the known universe to harbor life. It’s a miracle that we’re here, together, right now, in this particular place. We should act accordingly, with a healthy dose of consideration.

Maybe it’s incumbent upon me to brush aside my anxiety when boarding a flight from Phoenix to San Jose, to understand everyone is trying to accomplish the same thing: arrive safely at our destination. Maybe it’s an opportunity for me to exert some consideration and a reminder to think about the big picture. I won’t remember this moment ten years from now, but how well I practice consideration will surely unlock a better future, not just for me but for all I encounter.

(Phone) Addiction Again

I'm fighting my addiction again.

I feel like I've completely slipped, that I'm on my phone all the time. It feels like I check it constantly, engrossed with it any moment I'm not working. It's hard to avoid the negative self-talk. Do I really need to listen to multiple news shows every day? Is that 30 episode backlog of podcasts really that important? In my post about football earlier this week, I mentioned listening to multiple 49ers podcasts each week. Watching the game itself isn't enough? How much is too much?

Well, I just checked my metrics:

• Daily average screen time: 4 hours 21 minutes

• Daily average pickups: 72

More than 4 hours a day! And this is with most notifications off. I'm basically on par with everyone else: Americans spend 4 hours and 25 minutes on their phone every day, checking it 144 times—that's roughly once every 6 minutes.

It's easy to ask "so what." Are there even any repercussions of using your phone this much?

The scariest part—I think we don't really know. The somewhat less scary part? I think it literally makes us dumber. It drastically reduces our capacity to maintain focus. It's as if we're all living our lives through a fog. Do we want to live this way?

I think it's important we don't blame ourselves. These devices and their software are explicitly engineered to maintain our attention as much and as long as possible. And they do a good job.

So what's the solution? David Goggins said it's easier than ever before to be great: just get off your phone. Everyone is so distracted by screens that just eliminating them from your life automatically gives you a performance/productivity boost. I think he's right.

I think the easiest way to make progress is to prevent phone use for a chunk of the day and see how that goes. So, moving forward, I aim to live phone-free until 12pm each day.

There are exceptions:

• I still use my phone as an alarm clock

• I'll use my phone for meditation as part of my morning routine

• I can use Duolingo in the morning if I have downtime before I start working

• If I'm running or lifting, I get to use my phone to listen to podcasts—this is my 'reward' for exercising

• I can use my phone to listen to music at any time

The point of all this is to foster a quieter headspace, to protect my consciousness from constant information bombardment. To give myself time to think. To live more intentionally, and to be more in control of what I experience.

Thus far the results have been great. I feel calmer. I feel less rushed; the passage of time feels pleasant. I feel more present. I focus less on the problems of the world (which are still important) and more on my life and my tribe, the people who matter the most to me. I haven't experienced it yet, but I believe my ability to focus will increase. And I'm just straight up happier. These effects are worth it to me.

Just consider our lives before smartphones. How did we spend our time in 2002? We had more personal interactions, we talked with strangers more readily, we were more present and fulfilled throughout the day. We weren't distracted all the time.

When you're not habitually plugged in to the worldwide digital world, you have time for you and your family. That means when you do listen to the news, you can be more present. You can empathize better with problems and are more likely to contribute your time or money towards solutions because you've already handled your personal business.

Unplugging enables us to raise our global consciousness. I'll check back in and let you know how it goes.

Football and Life

I’ve become a football fan again.

I grew up watching the 49ers in the early 90’s, when they were fresh off 4 Super Bowls and expected to win more. Some of my first coherent sentences were exclamations about football games. I remember the pure childish joy from Super Bowl XXIX when the 9ers whooped the San Diego Chargers and my favorite player, Ricky Watters, scored 3 touchdowns. I remember crying after the 49ers lost in the 1998 NFC Divisional Playoffs to Chandler and the Atlanta Flacons, when our best player, Garrison Hearst, broke his ankle on the first play from scrimmage. My dad told me afterwards, “it’s just football, it doesn’t matter. You don’t need to be so upset.”

It seems at 36 years old I'm still learning that lesson. This is the story of football in my life thus far.

Candlestick

I have fond memories of Candlestick Park growing up. My parents had two season tickets for a while. Occasionally I got to go with my dad, maybe twice a season or so. I remember parking in the dirt lots outside the dilapidated stadium. I remember the long drive both ways; San Francisco was far from East side San Jose. We would bring unsalted peanuts and drinks, arriving early for warmups. My parents had north end zone seats for a while, row 10. They were great seats; you could feel the effervescence and fervor of the game. It wasn’t a passive observation platform, but an experience.

One November Sunday in 2001 I attended a regular season game against the Philadelphia Eagles with my dad. Right in our end zone, the 9ers completed an incredible goal line stand, stopping the Eagles on 6 straight plays from inside the 2 yard line. We stuffed the run on a first set of downs, but incurred a penalty on third down. With a fresh set of downs from the 1 yard line, we held them on three straight plays again, the last of which we intercepted Donovan McNabb in the end zone. It was absolutely bedlam in the stadium, particularly in our end zone. It was probably the first time I experienced the joy of high-fiving random strangers at a football game, when, in that moment, you're one tribe with the team.

Playing the Game

This was all before I played football. Actually playing the game is a completely different experience.

Captains walking to the coin toss in high school, November 2005

I remember playing two-hand touch during recess when I was in fourth grade. We had a blast, and I learned a lot—I remember learning how downs worked. Until then, I thought the offense got to run as many plays as they wanted until they scored or got tired. I didn’t really understand down and distance, and definitely didn't understand special teams or change of possession.

In middle school and my freshman year of high school I ran cross country, which conflicted with the football season. But my friends were on the football team, and I wanted to join. I had no idea how organized football worked. I distinctly remember my mom and I trying to figure out how to put on my leg pads before my first practice. I wasn’t very good at first, but I started to learn the game. I continued to rise on the depth chart through high school, developing into a good player my senior year. By that time I loved playing the game, and wanted to play in college. I chose to attend Occidental College, a Division III school, because it was one of the schools that recruited me. In my collegiate career I fought through a lot of injuries and never developed to my full potential, but I helped my team win some important games.

Concussions

Then there's the concussion issue. I didn't escape that either, "receiving" (isn't that a strange way to word it?) multiple concussions throughout my playing career.

One happened in practice in high school—a kid essentially head butted me during a blocking drill and I was literally stunned. The position coach running the drill wanted me to save face, since I was a senior and this kid was a junior. He had us do the drill again and I “defended my honor” by besting the kid the second time. I remember participating in the rest of practice seemingly without incident. When I got home that afternoon, I kept repeating myself to my parents. I remember saying something to my dad, and then specifically asking him, “I feel like I said that before and I’m repeating myself. I think maybe I have a concussion.” He said, “yeah you are repeating yourself, I think you might have a concussion.” He took me to the ER and they did a brain scan, and sure enough, I had a mild concussion. I don’t remember how long I sat out contact drills, but I definitely didn’t miss any games.

Making a catch in college, September 2009

My second known concussion was in the last game of my high school career. We played our rival in our second playoff game, whom we had beaten at home toward the beginning of the season. On defense I was playing free safety, and the quarterback scrambled down the middle of the field. I was out of position for the scramble and couldn’t deliver a solid tackle; instead, the quarterback, who was a big kid, delivered the force of the hit. Again I was a little shell shocked. I had stopped him short of the first down, but our defensive coordinator was worried they might fake punt it, so he had me line up near the goal line to field the punt—he wanted the defense on the field just in case they went for it. I told him during the timeout that I couldn’t do it, and he waved me off, insisting I’d be fine. They punted a high kick, and I remember seeing the ball come down to me, with gunners sprinting towards me in my peripheral vision. I remember thinking, “I need to wave to make a fair catch,” but my brain couldn’t make my body do it, and I didn’t make any fair catch signal. I was a sitting duck, hit immediately upon catching the ball, and I muffed the punt. I came off the field livid, because I had told my coach I couldn’t do it—I had never once even fielded punts in practice all year. I’m pretty sure I was concussed on back to back plays. But I stayed in and played the entire game, and didn’t think anything of it afterwards, too upset by our loss and elimination from the playoffs.

I have friends who played football professionally overseas, and I think they had a great time. I always thought about it, but was too far removed from that path when I moved to Cape Town and Beijing. Now I’m terrified to play even flag football, worried I’ll plant my foot on a cut and blow out my knee. I also wonder if I would let my future children play football. I’m not sure—the game is safer now, and we’re all more aware of the danger and risks regarding head trauma, but the danger is still there. Despite having so much fun playing football in high school and college, I don’t know if it’s worth it. Even now I may have some unforeseen long term health problems from my concussions nearly twenty years ago.

No Football Post School

After college I moved to South Africa, where there was no American football. I remember watching the 2012 49ers team go all the way to the Super Bowl, Skyping with my friends or family to watch. They would face their laptop toward the TV, and I would yell and cheer while making out the game on grainy footage through 3 screens.

After that Super Bowl loss, I stopped watching football regularly. Later that month I moved from Cape Town to Beijing, and was adapting to a lot of change in my life. I was living abroad and immersed in the culture there. It also coincided with the 49ers being pretty bad for the most part. But I also didn’t have a TV when I lived in South Africa or China. The game receded in importance in my life. I was exploring the world and becoming a man.

My Return to the Game

Then I started watching when I came back. I got sucked into the American football culture. Since I returned to California, I’ve spent a lot of time watching football games, reading articles about my team, and listening to podcasts for analysis and expert commentary. I’ve spent a lot of money on tickets to watch games in person. 

Watching the 49ers - Packers game at Levi’s, September 2021

My hot wife knows football, and is a Green Bay Packers fan, our archenemies, second only to the Cowboys. I think it makes her even hotter. I still ask myself regularly: how did I marry a Packers fan? Perhaps I was convinced by her knowledge and true football fandom. Just this past week she was complaining how the Packers stopped running the ball, making Jordan Love shoulder all the load on offense when he’s still recovering from injury and no preseason.

Is there anything wrong with this? Not per se, but I don’t think I particularly want the person giving my eulogy to proclaim, “Trevor was a great football fan. He loved watching his beloved 49ers play.” Is that what I want said about my life? It’s fine to enjoy a hobby, but the marketing is so good for professional sports, it’s easy for casual fandom to slip into obsession and wasted time.

What have I learned?

Football can be a part of your life, but isn’t your whole life. I didn’t go pro. I’ve made zero money playing football. But it sure taught me a lot.

It’s fine to be a football fan. You can bond with friends while watching. It can build community camaraderie. But it can also be a waste of time and money. When you throw in fantasy football, and ESPN browsing, and podcasts, and watching the pregame shows, and the football games themselves, plus Sports Center, how much time are we talking? Everyone can live their life how they want if it’s not hurting anybody, but is that what we really want? Upon our deathbed, will we say, “man I really wish I watched more football.”

I’ll grant that you learn important lessons while playing the game. You learn that your one job matters and affects the entire whole. Your one block can prevent the trail player from making the tackle. You can spring a touchdown by clearing the field on a route, having never touched the ball or another player.

Football teaches you to think and work through extreme duress. It’s such an aggressive, fast game. You have to prepare for it. You can’t be actively thinking throughout a play, you have to train so it’s automatic on offense, pure instinct and reaction on defense. The heart comes into play in between plays. You have to want it bad. You’re often dead tired, in physical pain, and mentally and emotionally drained. Yet you need to focus. You process the next play call and must understand exactly what you have to do. You need to understand the situation of the game, down and distance and time left, personnel on the field, the score, how many timeouts your team has and how many your opponent has. And you only get 25 seconds. Because once the ball is snapped, the frenetic movement and chaos resumes. At the snap you run as fast as you can and exert as much strength as you can. All within about six seconds.

The 49ers are NFC Champions! January 2024

And nothing beats the roar of the crowd when you make a big play, the celebration with equally exhausted yet dedicated teammates. The feeling of accomplishment, the satisfaction that your success was directly due to the hard work you put in over hundreds of hours. I will always have fond memories of playing the game.

But all I do is watch now. And I’ve learned that it really is just a game, simply entertainment. It doesn’t really matter who wins. I like to joke that the 49ers winning or losing doesn’t affect anything, except maybe my home value. Maybe if they win a Super Bowl I can sell my condo for more money. But I will remain a lifelong 49er fan. Watching football is fun and it connects me to my childhood. I enjoy watching the game with family and friends, and I know these will be treasured memories when I’m an old man. But it will not become the center of my life. I enjoy the back and forth banter with my wife and her family, attending the occasional game, and camaraderie with friends while rooting for our team. I have fond memories of successful seasons and all the good times that were associated with memorable games.

Games can teach us a lot. But they are only games. Football has been a big part of my life, but it’s only the vehicle for entertainment and joy I experience with my tribe. I guess the biggest thing it’s taught me is this: there are rules in football as there are rules in life, and it’s important to work hard and have fun, but eventually it ends. We can derive as much meaning from it as we want, and that’s fully up to us. So go enjoy it.

Human Responsibility

Can’t we just abandon all responsibility? 

A few weeks ago I wrote about Resolve, and its close synonym Resiliency. I was thinking about Responsibility today, wondering… why should anyone feel responsible? Why should we have any responsibility for anything? I kept thinking… why not embrace hedonism fully and live a fun adventurous life? Why not discard our burdens with wanton abandon?

Isn’t it nicer to live a lighter life? Why should we worry about climate change, about the destruction of natural habitats, the demise of innumerable species during our time here? Why care about the economy, who wins the upcoming presidential election, when we can live relatively good lives by focusing on ourselves?

I do not yet have children, but I imagine your sense of responsibility forever changes once you do, when you must care for and protect them. I think it changes you. You’re more inclined to think about the future, to care about the planet, when your children must inherit the Earth after you. A perspective centered around only yourself is fundamentally limited.

Norwegian countryside from the train - July 2023

I often think, “I’m one of eight billion people on this planet, out of even more billions to have ever lived… trillions of life forms have existed on this planet. Who am I to think I’m important?” And that’s only the ‘life scale.’ In terms of time, I inhabit this rock for one relative instance, one short human lifespan. I realize: this planet is on loan to me. I get to enjoy its splendor for my lifetime, but then have to let it go and share it with all who come after me. It’s not mine to ruin. I have a responsibility to ensure I’m not a selfish harbinger of destruction, but a responsible tenant.

Respect, Responsibility and Resolve are all connected to one another. In order to grasp a sense of responsibility you have to have respect; for others, for the planet, for the time we share together, for the one life we all get to live. Without respecting the sacredness of life, it’s impossible to have responsibility. Similarly, in order to maintain a sense of responsibility, you have to have resolve. You have to be resilient in the face of the inevitable adversity you’ll experience, to continue to push for what you believe in, what’s right, what’s just, for the betterment of humanity and for all the life on this planet. It requires resolve to keep going, to act on that sense of responsibility. The three R’s are inseparable.

We don’t need to feel responsible for the fate of humanity. But we should feel like responsible stewards of this planet. Our actions matter. We don’t have the Earth forever. When we die, we pass it on to our children and children’s children, in whatever state we leave it. A sense of responsibility encompasses doing one’s part, even if that’s just a little. We all contribute, and we’re all apart of this. Isn’t it only fair for us to contribute what we can while we enjoy this one wild life? Responsibility is part of being human, and I for one am glad for it.

Our Home - What a Wild World!

Photographs can inspire more than video. We evaluate a video’s content instantly upon watching, moving on if it’s not captivating enough for our attention spans. But a good photo makes you stop. It provokes, and it allows you the space to sit, process, and wonder. Haven’t you ever whispered ‘wow’ upon viewing an amazing photograph?

I want to capture that awe for the natural world, so I've resumed showcasing my work on Instagram. Every day I aim to publish a compelling photograph from somewhere around the world and include some sort of personal story or interesting tidbit. This is separate from my writing here.

I want people to celebrate our home. Too easily we forget: it truly is one big beautiful amazing world. I seek to prove exactly that, day after day, with a single photo.

Picturesque Bergen

Recently I posted this picture of a street in Bergen, Norway. I was there in the summer of 2023 and became fascinated with the town. It had such an interesting history, being the most populous place in Scandinavia in the 1500's and 1600's. Back then it was mostly inhabited by Germans, functioning as a prolific artesian and trading town. Today it's still the second largest city in Norway, but minuscule in size and importance to modern Europe. You can feel this history walking the streets, yet are still connected to the surrounding water and mountains typical in Norway.

I only learned of Bergen through my research for Svalbard, and we only visited here because it was the terminus of the train and boat tour from Oslo. Yet it was this vibrant, beautiful city, tucked away on the edge of Europe. 

Our planet is full of so many interesting places. Earth is just this absolutely incredible home. If you had to create a home world for humanity from scratch, it would be this. There’s so much wonder to discover and experience. 

Guangxi Province evokes awe and wonder

I also shared a shot of the Li River. On the other side of the planet from Norway, this waterway meanders south from Guilin, China down to Yangshuo in Guangxi province. I visited this region back in 2014, as part of a grand Southern China trip. Guilin is lesser known in most of the world, but in China's it's widely considered one of the country's crown jewels of natural beauty, famous for its karst topography of green-carpeted mountains and picturesque valleys. On this trip I had taken the train from Guangzhou to Guilin, a regional hub with millions of people. It had rained heavily in the preceding week, and Guilin was a "Tier 3 city," meaning it had grown in population but its infrastructure hadn't kept up. I was headed to Yangshuo, closer to the famous scenery. But there was no way to get there because of all the rain—there was so much flooding that buses, trains and taxis were all cancelled. After talking with some locals, I realized there was only way to get down to Yangshuo that day: by raft. So I hired a man to take me down the river, enjoying a free sightseeing ride along the way. Those few hours of peace and serenity, away from the hustle and bustle, were a superb introduction to the region and all it had to offer. This all unfolded by happenstance, as things often do while traveling. What a wild world!

Earth is full of natural wonders, from the wild freedom of the ocean to far-flung volcanic islands; from the frozen deserts and tundra on the poles to the gigantic forests and jungles near the equator; from the wide open plains and steppes to the majesty of the mountains. Earth has it all. And the planet isn't empty! There are so many cultures to experience, foods to taste, customs to appreciate, and history to learn. There are lilac-breasted rollers and incredible bridges, red rock mountains and lions napping in trees. What more could we ask for?

I've always been drawn to Mary Oliver’s quote: "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" It motivates me to live well and strive for adventure. The Earth is the perfect canvas to make our mark. To explore it, to experience all it has to offer, seems, to me at least, a fine way to spend our time well.

So follow my journey to document and experience this wondrous planet and all its offerings. I hope my photography inspires admiration and awe for our home. And maybe, just maybe, by appreciating our one shared world, we can unite around this most basic collective condition, and strive for a beautiful future.

What if we solve the Internet Problem?

I try my best to consume news that is balanced, or at least containing viewpoints across the political spectrum. It seems to just result in conflicting information. Sometimes it’s hard to know what to believe, to know what’s fake news, to identify mis or disinformation. When both "sides" speak so fervently about their position and vehemently attack each other, how do we determine the truth?

And then I thought: what if the world has always been like this? What if it’s always been difficult to know what to believe, if there's always been uncertainty? Perhaps that's not actually the problem—maybe it's a feature, not a bug. Perhaps the issue is not the divide itself, but the mechanism of information consumption, the consequences resulting from the amount and accessibility of information today. What if we just have a phone problem, an internet problem, not a polarization problem?

Internet cafe in Diqing, China near the Tibetan border - June 2013

The intensity of our rhetoric appears to have increased. It’s common for pundits or elected officials to make bold claims about what’s at stake. This is the most important election in the history of our country. Democracy is on the ballot this year. WE CANNOT LET THE OTHER SIDE WIN! Democrats and Republicans both regularly make such grandiose statements. Everything is a crisis. But this could be less of a sociological problem and more of a phone/internet problem.

I think back to my reading of Truman by David McCullough—there was a lot of mudslinging during the 1948 election between Harry S. Truman and Thomas E. Dewey. Sure, the language was more 'professional' than the language today. Many people blame Trump for that. But language changes. I’ve noticed my family swears more often in casual conversation now, which never happened when I was younger. We even swore in front of my Granny in the last few years of her life, something forbidden growing up. Similarly, there was mudslinging in the elections of the 1800’s too. Criticism of political opponents is not new.

But maybe the abrasiveness has increased, maybe the language has intensified. Are our phones to blame? We are constantly connected to the zeitgeist through our internet-capable mobile devices. Most people check their phones the moment they wake up and look at them throughout the whole day, only putting them down right before going to sleep. Compare that to 1948. Harry Truman ran a ‘whistle stop’ campaign, touring the country on a private train, stopping in tiny towns all across the contiguous United States, speaking to groups of a few hundred. Sometimes there were merely dozens of listeners. The press traveled with him, and the newspapers were the disseminators of information, the campaign updaters. News traveled slowly. Today, most people get alerts anytime anything ‘newsworthy’ happens. Information's travel time is negligible, with incessant updates occurring instantly after things happen, day after day after day.

Examining a red telephone box in Westminster - February 2023

The more recent democratization of news media means competition for your attention is fiercer than ever. Everyone knows the newspapers are dying; their business model can’t keep up with the technology of today. Independent news shows attract hundreds of thousands of daily consumers. There are thousands of podcasts and Youtube channels, Reddit threads and Twitter conversations, all competing for your attention. It’s disorganized, chaotic, and still new. We don’t yet know how to handle it.

But what if we did? Would solving this information overload actually solve our 'democracy crisis?' Would it decrease polarization? In other words, is the technology upstream from these sociological (and thus economic and political) consequences?

Our phones are not the devil. The internet shouldn’t be abolished. But survey after survey show we are increasingly stressed by, and concerned about, our relationship to technology and our obsession with our phones. Whereas information scarcity yields its own perils, the past twenty years show information overload has its own profound consequences. What if it’s as simple as solving the internet problem? What if we change our approach to the internet, and measured public discourse start to return?

Simple and easy are not synonyms. “The internet” is not one single ‘thing.’ But if something is simple, it becomes approachable, and when we can approach something, we can solve it. Maybe the problem isn’t us. Maybe it’s just how we use our phones.

Joe Rogan is rich. But his podcast can tell us something about happiness.

Joe Rogan and Tom Segura strayed into rich guy talk on JRE last week. While unpalatable, the discussion also presents an important lesson.

Around the 74 minute mark they started talking luxury cars. Cars that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. They looked up a tract of land for sale with a custom built racetrack, and Joe briefly entertained the idea of buying it so they had somewhere to drive their fast luxury cars, but they reasoned it was too far. Tom even said "hey you can helicopter there."

Opulent Big Ben, London - February 2023

This is obviously outside the realm of possibility for most people. Both Joe and Tom are very wealthy, with Joe even qualifying as obscenely rich (with his Spotify deals). Their luxury car conversation illustrates they’re living in a different world. Joe is usually pretty good at staying away from this type of talk, but succumbs to it with guests who are friends.

My hot take: it's okay for them to talk about this, it's okay for them to be rich. I don't begrudge their wealth just because it dwarfs mine. I believe in capitalism. Our society attributes value to what these two men produce—comedy. There's nothing wrong with being rich. I think Joe just knows most listeners will only tolerate so much rich guy talk.

But their conversation illuminates something. It shows that despite any wealth divide, we cannot escape the universal human condition: our insatiable need for more. Joe Rogan and Tom Segura were causally talking about something tempting, but it was just a little too pricey. Even if Joe's net worth really is 9 digits, there are still things he cannot afford or is unwilling to pay for. We all experience this, no matter our wealth. Jeff Bezos, one of the richest human beings on the planet (and in the history of the world), famously had a $500 million superyacht built. This yacht has a “support vessel” which… has a helicopter pad. Talk about ostentatious spending. But Bezos couldn't get his superyacht out of the harbor. It was too big to exit underneath the bridge. Eventually the masts were stepped, but it proves even the 2nd richest person on the planet can't have everything he wants whenever he wants. 

None of us can. It's a fundamental part of the human condition. Our brains are wired to adapt to current circumstances as a survival mechanism. Once we become accustomed to more ease, more time, more wealth, we continue to want more. It's inescapable; every human being faces this conundrum. So while the rich may live in a different world in many ways, that only extends so far. We each struggle through the same emotional capacity. While the physical, tangible items we desire or covet might look drastically different, the struggle is the same.

Wealth and beauty on display at Ponza, Italy - July 2024

This can be an encouraging thought. It can give some solace, that even if we never become as rich as Joe or Jeff, we can still enjoy a good life. I'd argue the 'richest' people in the world are those who experience the most joy within their current situation, within themselves. Those who can remain content and maximize their time are the wealthiest. Elon Musk said as much a previous Joe Rogan episode, quipping, "everyone thinks they want to be me. I don't think most people want to be me." Does Elon get to jet set around the world? Yes. Is he plagued internally with his incessant thinking patterns? It seems so.

All this provides an opportunity to eliminate envy. We can all strive to be our best, to provide as good a life as possible for our families. But competing for wealth with others is folly. We all adapt to our circumstances, we are all tempted with the allure of more. How we reject that, how we remain satisfied, is what determines our quality of life.

Many studies have shown that once an individual makes above a certain salary threshold, happiness doesn't increase. I intuit that's true. Once our basic needs are met, it's up to us to be happy. So maybe we take Joe's advice for society and make less losers. Maybe we set things up so we don't have really poor people living in communities with no opportunity. Maybe if we solve that, we can work to ensure all humans globally enjoy an acceptable standard of living. Maybe that's the easy part. Maybe the hard part is the battle we each must face, of resisting more, and remaining fulfilled. 

Three Good Things

I don’t know if my parents got it from somewhere or came up with it themselves. But it’s worked wonders for me. My wife and I do it, and I look forward to continuing it with my daughter someday.

When I was growing up we would go around the table and say “three good things” about our day. The vagueness of “thing” was important to the exercise. It didn’t have to be an event or something that happened to you. It didn’t mean you had to choose something to be grateful for. You could choose something that had nothing to do with you. It just had to be “good,” and it had to be about today.

This was brilliant for a few reasons. It facilitated a conversation in which we shared our days with each other. I often talked about school, about what I learned that day or how my sports practice went. Dad usually talked about work. Sometimes it would be a good meeting, or he got off early, something like that. Mom’s three things were always varied, because she ran the household and completed all the errands. It was almost a reflection of the good out in our community. 

The principal gathering place of my family growing up, my Granny's dining room table

As a kid it gave me insight into what my parent’s day-to-day looked like. Of course I had no idea at the time—I was just eager to hear what they were going to say. But it enabled me to peer into their lives and see them as people, not just parental figures with opaque inner worlds.

It also forced us to be positive and grateful, even if we had a bad day. I don’t have explicit memories of this, but I know there were times my parents forced me to say three good things on bad days. Even if I got in trouble at school, or did poorly on a test, or dropped the ball in practice, they would make me think of three good things, even if they were small.

And some days they were really small. Some days the three things don’t feel like they add up to a lot. But voicing them out loud and sharing them with your tribe helps you retain some appreciation for the day, for being alive. You could have the most horrible day, but it’s always possible to find three good things within it. Maybe you witnessed someone acting kindly to a stranger at the store. Maybe you hit all green lights on the way home. There’s always something. It’s a reminder that there’s good in the world.

This ritual began long before cell phones. Growing up we had this brown, Southwestern style table. Mom and Dad sat at the head and foot of the table, on the short sides, and my sister and I sat across from each other on the long sides. We would all be facing each other. We would sit down to eat dinner, without the TV on, without distractions. I remember how upset my parents would get if the phone rang during the meal. I think they felt our private, almost primal family time was being encroached upon. They would (get up and) answer the (corded) phone, and when it would inevitably be a telemarketer, they would angrily say to them, “our family is eating dinner right now we are not available” and hang up. Our friends and family knew to not call around six o’clock; that was dinner time.

Here are some examples of actual good things I’ve said or heard:

• “I had my nitro cold brew this morning, and it was delicious” (it was a pretty bad day, and this was a bright spot)

• “I got a raise today!”

• “(So and so) wasn’t in my classroom today”

• “I enjoyed practicing my piano today”

• “The weather was great today”

• “(Our friend) is doing better (in the hospital)”

• “We’re sitting as a family eating dinner”

Society seems to be losing the sacredness surrounding dinner. With our phones constantly within reach, there are no longer any boundaries or private time, what we used to call “family time” growing up. People text at all hours and eat at all hours. When I was a kid, dinner was our family’s time, no one else’s. We would sit as a family and eat and talk.

And I get it. Our phones are designed to be addictive, there’s more to watch on TV than ever before, and our couches are comfortable. My wife and I want to eat on the couch in front of the TV less often. It’s a work in progress. But I also know there’s never been a meal at the table that I’ve regretted. I’ve never lamented, “man I really wish we sat in front of the TV tonight.” Not once.

San Francisco skyline from an old Instagram post of mine

When we do sit at the table together, we have an informal rule against phones. We often put on some relaxing background music, and then we sit and talk. And we ask each other about our three good things. It fosters communication and sharing. And something magical happens during that time together at the table.

There’s something intimate about eating with another person. Every culture eats meals together, and every culture celebrates holidays or holds traditions around food. It’s sacred to break bread with your tribe. It’s probably the most intimate thing you do with a person other than sleeping with them. That’s why dates often center around a meal. We even provide those on Death row a choice for the last meal. As Jack Nicholson’s insightful movie line goes, “you learn a lot, watching things eat.” 

And I wonder… what if it was that simple for us to build a better, kinder, more inclusive society? What if simply eating with our families made us better people, more grateful people, more considerate people? What if sitting down and sharing our three good things impacted the world? What if it was that simple, sharing our three good things?

Thank you Mom and Dad, for showing me this practice. It’s had a measurable effect on my life. My heart swells fondly when I think back to those memories on “ordinary” nights, having dinner at the kitchen table, just the four of us. I am continuing the practice with my family now, and I hope it will always pass down.

What are your three good things from today?

Scenery changes. People are the same.

I long to travel. I feel it in my bones when I’ve been sedentary for too long. I yearn to be up in the air, to land in unfamiliar airports somewhere new. I love that first feeling of strangeness when encountering a new place.

Once you leave the airport and tourist infrastructure though, it quickly settles—because you realize everyone around you is the same as the people back home. Everyone goes about their daily lives, seeking health, wealth, and love, searching for purpose. We’re all the same in that regard, us humans.

My route to work and downtown Cape Town, March 2012

In a way it’s really the Earth that changes the most. People may wear different clothing and eat unique foods, but it’s the geography that shifts dramatically. I think back to how Table Mountain and the Twelve Apostles brush up to the sea at the bottom of Africa, or how the plains stretch on endlessly in northwestern Tanzania. I remember the white mountains of Svalbard, the ubiquitous ice of Antarctica. I shudder thinking of the dense hot jungle that is the Amazon, and daydream about the mesmerizing rice paddies in Southeast Asia. These are the unique features of our planet. The people are the same. 

Cape Town and Beijing are unalike. They have completely different histories and are almost on opposite ends of the Earth. (To be fair, South Africa seems to be on the opposite end from most places.) Cape Town is a bowl city smushed between the ocean and mountains. Its 400 years of smorgasbord history and culture dwarfs its population of 5 million. You feel a part of history walking the streets of the Mother City. Beijing is a gargantuan metropolis of 22 million souls, modern skyscrapers slowly smothering the ancient inner rings, the city shrouded in pollution. Even though South Africa has 11 national languages and China has 300+ minor ones, none of them overlap. Denizens of Cape Town are found speaking a number of those languages, and will often switch from one to another to communicate efficiently as needed. Beijing’s residents speak Putonghua, the “standard” Chinese, which serves as the lingua franca for most of the country.

Walking alongside the gargantuan Jinyuan Mall, where I used to work in Beijing in 2013

I was equally disoriented upon landing in both countries. But eventually I found my bearings, and both became home. I look back on my time in both cities fondly, and still maintain friendships with people in each. My friends are culturally distant and have divergent perspectives on geopolitics, economics, the best food, etc. But there’s one thing they don’t differ on: a life well lived. I have proof of this—two of my friends from each country have hung out together.

My roommate in Woodstock, the first suburb outside Cape Town, is South African. Let’s call him Dirk. We became great friends while living together, going on bike rides, playing chess, and talking about the world. I’ve learned a lot from him. When I moved to Beijing, one of the first people I met was a friend of a friend—we can call him Nico. We shared similar interests, namely working out, playing basketball, and partying. We also divulged in deep discussions on politics, economics, and history. These two friends could’t be any more similar, despite their environments. They both enjoyed sport, they were both social and both good, genuine guys. Of course, not everyone has the same personality. But despite cultural differences and different scenery, they wanted the same thing: a fun, happy life.

This was verified when they met, in Barcelona of all places. My wife and I were visiting Spain in 2019, and my Chinese friend had moved to Barcelona a few years before. He served as our foreign local, showing us all the hidden gems—bars, good paella spots, and uncrowded beaches. (Always the best way to travel.) On our last night in town, my South African friend surprised me—he called me and said he was in Barcelona, having driven some 800km that day to meet us before we left. I was flabbergasted! I didn’t expect to enjoy the company of both friends in such an unlikely place. We had dinner together and went out for drinks until the wee hours. They got along splendidly. And why wouldn’t they? They’re both great guys that want the same thing, the thing we all want. To live a beautiful life.

Sunset in Barcelona the night we all met up, August 2019

Well, my wife and I had a 7am train the next day and turned in “early,” by Spanish standards at least (Dirk and Nico stayed out). The next morning was rough: scrambling to throw our things into our bags, getting a ride to the train station, and finding the right seats on the right train were all more difficult when hungover and sleep deprived. We slept the whole five-hour train ride to Granada. Upon arrival, we wandered through the maze of narrow, winding streets in the old town to our AirBnB apartment, and promptly took another nap in the dizzying heat of Andalusia.

Upon waking, I had multiple messages from an unknown number. Dirk had been pickpocketed on La Rambla, losing his wallet and phone. I immediately sent him Nico’s number and connected the two of them. It was all I could really do while 700 kilometers away.

Several hours later, Nico shared a picture of the two of them having dinner. We texted a lot over the next several days, and it warmed my heart to hear how much Nico helped out Dirk. He paid for dinner and, speaking Catalan, was able to get Dirk’s old number on a new phone and access to money. Dirk couldn’t speak more highly of Nico, and it was clear they had built a relationship of their own, independent of me as the mutual friend.

This story illustrates how similar we all are. We may come from different cultures, speak other languages, or, on the surface, have distinct ways of life. But we all bleed, laugh, cry, and smile the same. I believe in the human race. I believe we are good, and that our similarities run much deeper than our differences. Our environments may differ, but we are the same. Maybe, just maybe, if we recognize this on a global scale, we’ll all see ourselves as one race, one species, living on one planet together.

What if it was that simple?

Tell me if this sounds familiar:

"I'm barely getting by. It's hard just to pay rent and afford groceries with inflation so high. The job market sucks. Insurance is out of control. My credit cards and student loan debt are piling up. How am I supposed to keep up with everything going on in the world?" Between climate change, the economy, our broken political system, all the polarization.. sometimes it feels hopeless. And you say, "I vote in every election, isn't that enough?"

I'm not sure it's enough.

Life is hard. The weight of the world can feel debilitating. It seems we have so many big problems—how can someone like me help solve them? I'm just an ordinary person. Yet it's also clear that democracy is fragile. That it's not easy. Belligerent rhetoric makes it hard to stay engaged or hopeful. But we must remember: self-governance is not guaranteed. Malicious forces will always seek to seize or remain in power.

Thus, if we want to enjoy and preserve democracy, we must embrace responsibility. And it goes beyond voting.

Volunteering at a voting center in Mountain View during the 2020 election

Traditionally, voting is considered the bare minimum. And it's actually pretty time-consuming. To truly be informed, to vote conscientiously and with conviction, you have to read, research, and learn a lot. Do I know exactly what's in that bill? How much do I really know about this candidate—am I ​confident their character and record will translate into policy progress? Voting takes time, if done thoroughly.

But there's another responsibility that constitutes the bare minimum. Besides staying informed and voting, it's our responsibility as citizens to proactively improve our community, our country, and the world. Americans enjoy the freedoms and rights afforded to us by the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and hard-fought amendments. In order to maintain these rights and freedoms, and in order to ensure the progress of good, we must do more than simply vote. We must also proactively seek to improve democracy.

This can mean different things to different people. It doesn't have to be extravagant. There are many ways to impact the world that, while requiring effort and agency, do not require a lot of time. These simple, unique things might be called a person's "unique value adds."

Some potential examples:

I recently asked the question, "what if it was as simple as hiking more?" What if that was an effective way of changing the world? If it made us happier? If it made us more connected to the Earth and each other? Could it be that simple?

Or... what if it was as simple as keeping our living spaces tidy? Cleaner environments unclutter our minds, and impacting our emotional state and how we interact with others. Clean = feel good mentally and emotionally = treat others well = better world.

What if it was as simple as being grateful every day? (I've written extensively about gratitude; I believe it's important to actively pursue it each and every day). This is something every person on the planet can do, no matter their circumstances. What if being grateful changed our world

Grateful for a beautiful sunset in Kaanapali, July 2023

I've also wrote about the act of consideration. When we practice consideration, we are empathetic, leading to understanding and connection. Don't we need more of that in the world? What if it was as simple as being considerate?

What if, collectively pursued, these things had a huge impact on our society?

Something to note—​there's a difference between simple and easy. Something simple can still be difficult. "Simple" describes the lack of complexity in something, not the effort required. Running a marathon is extremely simple—you run 26.2 miles. Follow the course and run; it's not very complex. But yea, it's really hard. Similarly, forcing yourself to express gratitude can be difficult. It can be hard to make yourself feel something. But it's very simple: force yourself to focus on the good things in your life, and contemplate them. Exert your energy thinking about how fortunate you are, and recognize it could be much worse.

We can find our unique value adds with this easy question, "What if? What if it was that simple?" Asking ourselves this question enables us to do more than simply vote. It empowers us to explore how we can uniquely contribute to the world and make an impact.

Because life is hard. But that doesn't preclude us from doing more. And we can do things we enjoy that make a difference. Just think—​what if it was as simple as doing the simple things? What if?

The Power of Travel

It took months to get a Chinese visa as an American citizen living in South Africa. This was back in 2011. I didn’t have internet or a smartphone. I was living illegally on a tourist visa, working under the table as a teacher at a language school in the heart of town, about twenty minutes away. My bicycle was my only reliable means of transportation. I was barely making it.

The cycling community in Cape Town was focused on raising awareness in the early 2010’s

The Chinese visa office was around the other side of Table Mountain, and I cycled there often to repeatedly bring mounds of paperwork as it was increasingly requested (read: demanded). Processing took weeks. I had trouble buying an airline ticket—once cycling all the way to CPT, about 2 hours each way. There was nowhere in the entire airport to buy plane tickets, and I had to turn back empty handed. I got lost in a township on the way home. As the sun set, I became more and more concerned for my safety; it was not the right place for me to be alone with wads of cash. So just getting the necessary documents was a journey.

But it was all worth it. I’d even argue this: travel might be the most important thing almost everyone can do. I understand not everybody “gets” to travel. But it’s easier than people think. Anyone living above the poverty line can go somewhere. Catching an 18 hour bus can bring you to a completely different place, and that’s attainable for most people.

Once you start traveling, you get “bitten by the bug”—you can’t easily stop. There’s something intoxicating about visiting new places and experiencing the foreign. It stimulates you mentally, emotionally, and physically. It can be the altitude in Denver or Bolivia; the spirituality in Bali or Tibet; the political system of Egypt or Russia. Traveling changes you, and once you’ve felt that change, you seek it out.

Exploring the streets of Doha - March 2012

When I was moving from South Africa to China back in 2011, people always asked me, “why do you want to go to China?” The honest answer was that I didn’t really have an answer. I didn’t really know. China was the unknown, something new and mysterious, something wildly different than anything else I had experienced up to that point. I remember having these fleeting images of Big Bad Communist China: gargantuan, imposing, Soviet-style buildings under gray skies, millions of faceless Chinese citizens stoically crisscrossing a cold, calculating land. But I also understood that I didn’t actually know at all what China was like—I didn’t know what to expect, and that’s part of what drove me there. 

I vividly remember my first “oh shit” moment: it was during my layover. I flew from Cape Town to Doha on the first leg, with 24 hours before my flight to Beijing. Naturally, like the carefree 23 year old I was, I checked my two bags, which was all I owned, and left the airport to go explore the city. I visited museums, mosques, and bazars. It was my first time to the Middle East and I soaked it all in. I also passed out on the grass in a public park for a few hours. Upon returning to the airport, I went through security and found my terminal. Exhausted, I sat down in the waiting area and sighed, dreading the long flight ahead. After a couple moments I noticed something. All around me, people were chattering away in Chinese. It was an alien language to me. I think I was the only non-Chinese person on my flight, and I realized that I didn’t speak a lick of Mandarin other than “knee how.”  I was about to move to a country in which I wouldn’t be able to communicate, one in which I knew no one. It hit me right then that I was completely unprepared for what was to come.

My first day in Beijing: March 15, 2012. Being driven to the Wangjing neighborhood from the airport.

I didn’t quite panic, but I was definitely terrified. And somehow that was exciting. I was leaving my second home, the relative comfort of Cape Town, for the complete unknown. I had no idea what my life would be like in 8 hours. But I knew it was going to be different, and an adventure. I shuffled in line with everyone else when our flight began boarding, found my seat on the plane, and promptly passed out again, extremely low on sleep. Many hours later, as I smelt the sour air as we descended through the pollution to Beijing Capital Airport, I looked out the window at the early morning sunshine and awaited my fate.

The rest is history: I am the person I am today because of the 3 1/2 years I spent living in Beijing. It completely changed my life. I didn’t leave “the Motherland,” as I still call it, until I returned home in October of 2015. To this day I’ve seen more of China than I have of the US. I grew up in Beijing, developed my vision of a life dedicated to education, and learned the importance of family. This is how poignant travel can be. And shorter trips can be meaningful too. The point is you push yourself, you immerse yourself, you challenge your conception of the world. Travel unlocks the power of experience and the spirit of adventure. It can be a great teacher. And it’s always worth it.