I clearly remember the excitement and difficulties of my first year or two out of college. There was one day in particular — I remember feeling things couldn’t get any worse (which, I now believe, is never true, things can always get worse, and conversely, they can always get better). That particular day in 1993 I had no job, no car, and nowhere to live (I was staying at my mom’s place in Berkeley in a spare room). My recently completed undergraduate degree was in Rhetoric & Communications — not exactly a fast track to a lucrative career. My prospects were poor, and what I remember about that particular day was that two different girls dumped me. Should I even try to explain that? I don’t think so. At the time it felt like icing on the cake — my cake of personal misery.

Maybe you thought we were getting something other than a cautious centrist pragmatist empiricist in the White House?
In my first post in this series I discussed the empirical, rational, and subjectivist approaches to problem solving. The recent tax debate has highlighted these different approaches and their pitfalls. The Democrats argue that there is no empirical evidence that tax cuts for the rich stimulate the economy. The Republicans make various “rational” arguments that cutting taxes “across the board” will lead to increased spending by everyone (the rich included), and will thus stimulate the economy. Up in Alaska, Sarah Palin takes the extreme Subjectivist approach — a sprightly gung-ho attitude is what this country needs to get us out of the doldrums.
Obama leans towards empiricism. What evidence do we have for taking a particular course? What has worked in the past? In some ways this is a thoughtful and intelligent approach to decision making. In other ways it’s driving forwards while looking out the rear window. Patterns that we perceive in looking at past events may or may not show up in the future. The “empirical fool” thinks “This has happened before, so it will likely happen again.” Well, maybe. But if the system is ruled by chaos and flux, probably not.
Most problems are easy to solve. The solution leaps into your head the instant you understand the nature of the problem. In the course of our day we might solve a dozen, or even a hundred smallish problems (unclogging, plugging in, restarting, mediating, debugging, delegating, etc.). It’s one thing our giant brains evolved to excel at.
But every once in awhile we run into a real doozy — a problem so difficult or intractable that it truly stumps us. Maybe we’re half a million in debt, with no income to speak of. Maybe we have a chronic illness that has proven resistant to medicine and lifestyle changes. Maybe the behavior of a client, significant other, or family member has escalated to red alarm level — they’re destroying us or themselves and they’re out of control. Maybe we’ve invaded a country on false pretenses and now we’re stuck there and it’s costing us lives and billions of dollars. No easy solution springs to mind. What’s the best approach?
Losing your phone, moving to a new country, breaking your leg, your laptop self-destructing, getting a concussion — all these disruptive events can be described as cybernetic discombobulation. The systems, body, habits, technologies, and databases we rely on to navigate daily life occasionally break or corrupt or become obsolete (or we break them on purpose in pursuit of growth or change or freedom).
In my earlier posts in this series, I wrote about the idea that willpower is less a muscle we can strengthen, and more a limited resource that we need to spend wisely. If we spend our day doing taxes (difficult), we’ll have less energy at the end of the day to resist sweet desserts or other temptations.
We all “leak” willpower to some extent, wasting our daily supply of mental fortitude on battles like staying awake when we’re sleepy, resisting food cravings, making ourselves do work we don’t want to do, enduring annoying people, etc. If we take proactive steps to either change our lives or establish new habits, these “leaks” go away and we’re left with more willpower to work on whatever we really want to work on (making art, earning money, fixing stuff, improving the lives of others — whatever our “life’s work” happens to be).



