$2,000 ergonomic chairs only exist because sitting is bad for you.
The mediocre middle is full of steady-state defaults like this. They’re the easiest things to accept, but they come at hard costs.
To avoid this middle is to live the “barbell life.” Like a barbell, focus your efforts on the extremes, and keep it thin in the middle. Instead of a steady state in the middle, get the best of both worlds at the extreme ends.
Instead of living stressed in an overpriced city, live a relaxed life in the country, with high-energy trips to the city.
Instead of writing on a computer, full of distractions, write on a typewriter, but publish online.
Instead of having social apps a tap away, put them on a separate phone.
Instead of getting terrible sleep with your partner, get separate beds – save cuddles for Saturday-afternoon naps.
Instead of reading a new mid-wit business book, read ancient philosophy, or the latest Substack.
Instead of the ergonomic chair, stand, sit on whatever, leverage AI to work while walking – overall, keep moving.
The “middle” is subjective, as are the extreme ends of the barbell. The barbell life isn’t one-size-fits all – that would be too middle.
What’s in your barbell life?
Book:The Medici (Amazon) is a gripping account of the family that made the Renaissance.
Cool:Silverant (Amazon) makes water bottles out of extremely light but also non-toxic titanium.
Best, David P.S. Play sure bets and wildcards with the barbell strategy.
In the early days, the internet was the great democratizer of information.
In a world dominated by mass media, it was exciting to witness the surge of weird and diverse words purveyed by people who just had something to teach or say.
But the idea of following a particular creator started to crumble as platforms switched to an algorithmic feed. Supposedly this was to find what interested you, but it turned out it’s hard to gauge interest beyond the basest human emotions.
There’s this idea that if there were infinite monkeys banging on infinite typewriters forever, eventually one would write Shakespeare. I now realize the result of the algorithm was to turn creators into the closest possible thing to infinite monkeys, with the aim of finding within each haystack the needle that could puncture the human mind.
As generative AI accelerates, a creator isn’t worth much as one of the infinite monkeys. A prolific creator can create, say, thirty posts in a month – a generative AI, in a minute. Every flick of your finger on the infinite scroll is like running a simulation, a data point to determine the Shakespeare of the second.
Most people will passively accept what the algorithm gives them. That’s easiest, as the channels for discovering something different are getting cut off. But I know for certain some will want to step out of the simulation, in search for something real or weird or simply human.
As a creator, appeasing the algorithm is becoming an increasingly dangerous game. I think the way forward is to find the seekers.
Aphorism: “Commerce is unexpectedly confident and serene, alert, adventurous, and unwearied. It is very natural in its methods withal, far more so than many fantastic enterprises and sentimental experiments, and hence its singular success.” —Henry David Thoreau
Cool: These bass traps (Amazon), which I demonstrated in a recent Patreon video, dampen some low-end sounds that reverberate in the corners of rooms.
Best, David P.S. My detailed author income reports are now available to Patreon supporters.
Lately my business hasn’t been doing well. It shouldn’t be a surprise – I haven’t published a magnum opus in five years.
But it’s gotten me in touch with a source of motivation that has never failed me. Something to which I credit some of my greatest accomplishments.
It’s what you feel when you need something bad and none of the obvious options work. In my experience, it unlocks a level of focus, creativity, and determination I can’t quite get any other way.
I’m talking about desperation.
To de-sperare is to be without hope, so maybe I’m thinking about it wrong. Because desperation in my experience isn’t a complete lack of hope. It’s certainly when hope is in short supply: You hoped one thing would work, and it didn’t. You hoped another, and that neither.
The only source of hope you have left is high up from the rock-bottomed pit in which you stand, and you will need all your strength to jump and reach it.
I felt it when I wanted to get out of Nebraska. I felt it when I was leaving Silicon Valley. I felt it when I wrote my first book, and when I doubled-down on writing.
There’s something primal about desperation. If an ancestor was cast out of the tribe and forced to fend for themselves, you can bet that lit a fire under their ass.
It’s an invigorating feeling, because it creates a sort of tunnel vision. Everything you’ve been casually expending time and focus on heretofore falls away.
Don’t seek out desperation. But if you’re feeling desperate, by leaning in you can lift up.
Aphorism: “He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.” ―Friedrich Nietzsche
Cool: When used with earplugs, bone induction headphones (Amazon) are great for hearing podcasts in a noisy gym.
Best, David P.S. Sorry for the delay this week, a technical glitch prevented some of you from receiving this on Monday!
Need a break? Maybe it’s not time, but air quality.
I recently tried monitoring the air quality in my home office with an air quality meter (bought on Amazon). I’ve since developed a new routine that helps me stay focused.
Surprisingly, even in an 11-foot square room, with vaulted ceiling, my own breathing increases the CO₂ levels quickly. I’m above 1,000 ppm within a couple hours.
If I step outside, or even stick my head out the window, I can instantly think more clearly.
One study has found that a CO₂ level above 1,000 ppm reduced six of nine measures of decision-making performance.
So I’ve started working in oxygen intervals. Once the meter reaches 1,000 ppm, I open a window and take a quick walk. Fifteen minutes later, the CO₂ level is back below 600.
Even if you don’t have a meter, you may find you think better with a little fresh air.
Book:Time Anxiety (Amazon) is Chris Guillebeau’s guide to overcoming the illusion of urgency.
Cool:The Librarian saves time on emails, scheduling, and finding information, through WhatsApp and Slack.
Best, David P.S. The 100 Journal Prompts Workbook is now available on Amazon paperback.
That has the convenient effect of making our dreams impossible to follow. If you need more time, more money, more energy to make it real, it can always be out of reach. And the circumstances of your life can always be shackles – adversaries holding you down.
I’ve tried to make dreams happen either with a day job or a clear schedule, and neither is enough to fulfill your fantasies.
So instead of trying to make the space to get dreams done, fit the scope to your schedule.
If you have two hours every Sunday, what can you build and ship in that time? One day off per month – is that enough to write an essay? Fifteen minutes a day to think, what can you nudge forward?
A book you finish in short sprints is better than one you never start. You don’t need a ten-day retreat if you have ten minutes a day.
Instead of wishing your day fit your dreams, size your scope to your schedule.
Book:Great Founders Write (Amazon) shows you how to write for teammates, customers, and investors.
Cool: These A5 journals are great for writing a novel, one short booklet at a time.
The digital nomad thing turned out to be disappointing.
Like many who have lived the lifestyle, I was first attracted to it by the promise of more for less. To live a luxury lifestyle on a budget, in beautiful weather. To experience a different dating scene.
But the novelty of those things soon wore off, and I found something much more interesting: intellectual freedom.
Through repeated round-trips from foreign cultures to my native culture, I began to see the ways American life pushed my buttons. Each trip out of the country was like stepping out of the “water” of everyday. Out here I feel free to have thoughts that come from my true curiosities. I don’t feel constantly nudged towards whatever the Zeitgeist decides.
And, yes, the lower cost-of-living has made it possible to explore these thoughts and build a career as a writer.
Nine years after leaving America for good, I would’ve thought I’d find more like me. Nomads or expats attracted to the lifestyle not so they can live in a penthouse and fly first-class on credit-card points from their drop-shipping businesses, but who have sought the disconnection from their native culture, while still being able to read just about any book they want, and being able to think without being told what to think.
Maybe they’re out there. Where are the intellectual nomads?
Book:Feel-Good Productivity (Amazon) is massive YouTuber Ali Abdaal’s guide on an easier and happier path to success.
Cool:Postable makes it easy to send greeting cards to people without touching grass nor paper.
There was some technical difficulty with the prior email, so I’m re-sending it…
I was looking for a small-batch olive oil, and my reaction to what I found surprised me.
I came across a lot of websites that looked like this.
At some point at or after peak industrial-food, it would have been striking to see a food company with a design like this. The colors evoke nature, the typefaces are friendly, and the layout says no-frills and hand-made.
But it made me suspicious because there was something pretentious and self-conscious about it.
The design was clearly “signaling.” It was careful in how it communicated carelessness, like when you’re in L.A. and everyone has “bed-head” on which every hair is carefully in-place.
The website of the olive oil I bought looked like this.
The typography is sloppy and not so easy to read. There’s no rhythm or intention to the white space and alignment of elements. The logo and label could have been made in Microsoft Word.
As a former international-award-winning designer, I feel confident in saying this company’s design “sucks.”
I want to call it anti-signaling, but that again implies there was something intentional about it.
The greatest irony of the contrast between these two olive oil brands was that the first one has a logo that’s “hand-written.” But this hand-written logo is made from an electronic font, and not even a good one. So the two “e’s” are the exact same.
And the olive oil I ended up buying has the harvest date literally hand-written on the label.
Notice when you’re feeling the urge to be someone else, and consider being yourself.
Aphorism: “I do not know a better argument for an optimistic view of mankind, no better proof of their indestructible love for truth and decency, of their originality and stubbornness and health, than the fact that this devastating system of education has not utterly ruined them.” —Karl Popper
Cool:Jeff Han’s 2006 Ted Talk shows you how blown away people were the first time they saw an iPad-like touchscreen.
Best, David P.S. Anti-signaling could be another reason why AI can’t bake.
I was looking for a small-batch olive oil, and my reaction to what I found surprised me.
I came across a lot of websites that looked like this.
At some point at or after peak industrial-food, it would have been striking to see a food company with a design like this. The colors evoke nature, the typefaces are friendly, and the layout says no-frills and hand-made.
But it made me suspicious because there was something pretentious and self-conscious about it.
The design was clearly “signaling.” It was careful in how it communicated carelessness, like when you’re in L.A. and everyone has “bed-head” on which every hair is carefully in-place.
The website of the olive oil I bought looked like this.
The typography is sloppy and not so easy to read. There’s no rhythm or intention to the white space and alignment of elements. The logo and label could have been made in Microsoft Word.
As a former international-award-winning designer, I feel confident in saying this company’s design “sucks.”
I want to call it anti-signaling, but that again implies there was something intentional about it.
The greatest irony of the contrast between these two olive oil brands was that the first one has a logo that’s “hand-written.” But this hand-written logo is made from an electronic font, and not even a good one. So the two “e’s” are the exact same.
And the olive oil I ended up buying has the harvest date literally hand-written on the label.
Notice when you’re feeling the urge to be someone else, and consider being yourself.
Aphorism: “I do not know a better argument for an optimistic view of mankind, no better proof of their indestructible love for truth and decency, of their originality and stubbornness and health, than the fact that this devastating system of education has not utterly ruined them.” —Karl Popper
Cool:Jeff Han’s 2006 Ted Talk shows you how blown away people were the first time they saw an iPad-like touchscreen.
Best, David P.S. Anti-signaling could be another reason why AI can’t bake.
Even if you started a relationship with your crush, you’d have to share household chores and discuss bills. In the best-case scenario you get old and one of you dies.
Creative crushes are the same. You can fantasize about writing your memoir or opening a cafe, but if you actually did it, it wouldn’t be as great as you had imagined.
So it’s more comfortable to imagine being with your crush than to tell them how you feel. It’s more comfortable to imagine pursuing your creative crush than to risk failure, or maybe just as bad, success.
Crushes and creative crushes are dangerous because when you have them, some part of your heart or mind is marked “taken.” You can’t take action on one thing when you’re already committed to another.
The sooner you try to turn your crush into something real, the sooner you can leave your fantasy world and make contact with reality.
Painting was really exciting during the Impressionists’ movement, which gave way to cubism, then abstract expressionism. Once Mark Rothko painted a canvas black, everything interesting that could be said with paint on a canvas had been said.
You can still be a painter today, and even make a living, but you aren’t going to rock the world with a canvas.
There’s been a last great marble sculpture, a last great Catholic cathedral, and a last great radio program.
You can still be a sculptor, a church architect, or a radio host, but the chances you’ll do anything significant in those media are nil.
The time to make your mark in a medium is while there’s still something to be explored within its qualities and constraints.
I wonder what other last greats we’ve already seen. For example, the past sixty-ish years we’ve been recording music with such fidelity it could’ve been recorded yesterday, so why listen to The Weeknd when there’s Michael Jackson? Maybe we’ve heard the last great pop song.
Language, ideas, and human thought at-large seem like such complex systems, it’s hard to imagine a last great idea, or story. But much of what you think could probably be found in the corpus of Aristotle or Buddha, Gilgamesh or Homer. But maybe we have or, through LLMs, soon will encounter those last greats.
This isn’t to say you can’t adapt old ideas to new things and have influence and gain attention. If Robert Johnson were recorded with the same fidelity as Fleetwood Mac, the lyrics would still sound from the 1930s, so there’s still room to sing about being the throat goat or whatever.
But if you really want to have a chance at doing paradigm-shifting work, some places are easier than others.
If you can, stay away from where we’ve already seen a last great.
Aphorism: “The difficulty lies, not in the new ideas, but in escaping from the old ones, which ramify…into every corner of our minds.” —John Maynard Keynes
Book:How to Sell a Book shares everything I’ve learned selling 100,000 copies.
