Ten books in one month

100 books

I hadn’t heard about Aaron Swartz before his demise on January 11th. He was a brilliant chap: master computer programmer, co-founder of Reddit, activist for open data and much more. He was also just 26 years old.

After the news of his suicide, the web exploded with eulogies. Much was said about bullying by US prosecutors, openness of data and difficulties of dealing with depression, all of which contributed in someway to his suicide. But what stood out for me came mostly through Aaron’s own words. (His blog Raw Thought is a treasure trove and a great way of learning about him.)

One thing in particular stuck with me: his ability to read more than 100 books every year. (He dropped out of high school and that’s how he taught himself.) I want to do this. And I know managing that with a full-time job and my other writing work is going to be a hard thing to do. So I’ve decided to start by setting a goal of reading 10 books in the next 4 weeks. (This is a little more than the 2 books per week needed to make up 100 books per year.)

At first glance this seems like a difficult task given that previously I averaged about 1 or 2 books per month. But some simple calculations show that this is not a ridiculous aim. At an average size of 300 pages (70,000 words), I’m aiming to read 25,000 words per day. This means at an average reading speed of 200 words per minute, I will need just over two hours of reading time. Allowing for sometime for note-taking and breaks will make it 2.5-3 hours every day.

If I cut out watching TV and I read only the most essential things online, I should be able to do this. If I can do 10 books before February 24th and manage the rest of my life properly, I’ll extend this challenge to 100 books before January 27th, 2014.

With help of friends on Twitter and Facebook and my own reading list, I’ve compiled a list of 10 books that I am planning to read in the next four weeks:

  1. Breakout Nations by Ruchir Sharma
  2. The Disappearing Spoon by Sam Kean
  3. Erwin Schrödinger and the Quantum Revolution by John Gribbin
  4. The End of Science by John Horgan
  5. Genome by Matt Ridley
  6. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
  7. Moonwalking with Einstein by Joshua Foer
  8. Flow by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi
  9. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon
  10. Fabric of Reality by David Deutsch

If I find the book not worth my time, I will replace it with another one and update the list here. Although I doubt that this list of 10 will need any replacing. I will post a review of the book once I’ve read it (here and on Amazon). If you are keen to support me in this endeavour, you can buy me one of the books above. At present I only first 5 of them. Here is my Amazon wish list. (PS: email me if you need my address).

The #100bookschallenge starts now.

PS: I’m taking the average word count of a book as 70,000 because I am planning to read more non-fiction than fiction. Image from here.

On the failings of passion

One person with passion is better than forty people merely interested. – EM Forster, English writer

Forster is probably right. Passionate people can achieve a lot more than others. But we assume that because we think passionate people are those who know why they like doing what they do and derive immense joy from doing it. And that certainly is the case for the ones that emerge successful, which leads many to profess “follow your passion” advice to young’uns.

I think that is a terrible advice to give to one at a tender age. Baruch de Spinoza, a great 17th century philosopher who explored human emotions in his book Ethics, has much better career advice. But to understand that we have to go back a few steps and understand how emotions play a role in helping us feel and act.

Susan James, a philosopher at Birckbeck college and a scholar on Spinoza, explains that the true nature of emotion is to be passive. Even the word passion, which we now associate with feeling strong emotions, comes from the French word pascion, which by 13th century meant the “fact of being acted upon”.

The passivity of emotions is simple enough to understand. For example, if you enter a room and you feel more joyful then it may because in the past you were in this room and had a pleasurable time. So now that you have come to the room again you are associating that past pleasure with the room, which is making you more joyful. And the association might happen unconsciously.

In that sense, you are most of the time unaware of what exactly is it that makes you joyful. Thus your passions, as Spinoza argues, are things that you don’t fully understand. And that is a dangerous thing. If you are not sure why something makes you joyful, and because your driving force is to be more joyful, you may end up taking irrational decisions to pursue that joy.

That is something that happens to all of us, at one point or another. We end up regretting irrational decisions that we took when we acted too passionately without understanding our passion well enough. That is why Spinoza calls passions inadequate ideas. When we try to empower ourselves with our passion (ie inadequate ideas), we often fail.

This hits at the heart of the “follow your passion” advice. First of all very few people know what exactly makes them happy. Those who do, often don’t know why it is that something makes them happy. The advice given a tender age when one is at an early stage of knowing themselves is perhaps a wrong advice.

Because of this inadequate nature of our passions, Spinoza says that we must use our passions to explore more about ourselves. That the main role of passion is to be able to help us understand ourselves better and in turn be able to wield the power that our passions provide us with.

In an ideal world Spinoza’s advice is indeed a very good one to follow. And Spinoza did what he preached. After being excommunicated from his Jewish Dutch community for questioning a rabbi, he got a day job as a lens-grinder and by night he . He may not have know what his passion was and so took a day job to search for it. Eventually, though, he died at the age of 44 from lung infection (perhaps from breathing in glass dust). His work Ethics was published posthumously and brought him immense fame, perhaps a little too late.

Spinoza’s words from centuries ago have found followers even today. But you don’t have to rely on a 17th century philosopher’s words alone. Science has made progress in this area too. The work of psychologists, which Daniel Pink wrote about in his book Drive), has found that “to be happy, your work must fulfill three psychological needs: autonomy, competence and relatedness.” Here the terms are used to mean:

Autonomy refers to control over how you fill your time. If you have a high degree of autonomy, then you endorse your actions at the highest level of reflection.

Competence refers to mastering unambiguously useful things. As the psychologist Robert White opines: humans have a “propensity to have an effect on the environment as well as to attain valued outcomes within it.

Relatedness refers to a feeling of connection to others. In other words to love and care, and to be loved and cared for.

Cal Newport, who writes Study Hacks and is a passionate critic of the “follow your passion” advice, has written about this. But based on these ideas he draws the conclusion that “the traits that make us happy with our work have little to do with our personality or so-called “passions”. He finds no value introspection, which Spinoza holds so important, as a way of learning what it is that you should work at. He says, “working right trumps finding the right work”.

I find that disturbing. Disregarding inner motivations can be deeply unsatisfying. I, too, am a critic of the only follow your passion advice, but that is because I understand the difficulty of figuring out where one’s passions lie. And for them it helps to choose a profession where the above three psychological needs can be met. Mostly where one can feel autonomy and relatedness, so that it gives them time to figure out where their passions lie and where it is they should become more competent.

In a world which is moving away from the industrial model of doing things, it is indeed important that we find ways of maximising our potential. It does not help anymore to just be a cog in the system. But that must not be done at the cost of sitting at home unemployed because you don’t know what you’re passionate about or getting a job just because it pays well and hoping that it will buy you the freedom to be able find your passions.

The power of the survival instinct

I recently wrote a story in The Economist about the influence of our genes on our political leanings. It turns out that genes do have something to do with them, and not just a little. Sometimes genes take 60% of the blame, more than any other environmental factor.

On some thought, it doesn’t seem all that surprising. Genes play an important role in the most basic of our instincts: survival and procreation. These instincts, then, manifest into some behavioural traits. For example: Immigration concerns threats from out-group members. Welfare issues deal with the question of resource-sharing. Sexual freedom matters to issues of finding mates and raising children.

This behavioural manifestation has important implications to our search for sources of motivation. Consider fear, for example. When our survival is threatened in any shape or form, our first reaction to it is fear. For a man at war, fear is an ally. It helps get his mind and body ready for action (or reaction). It is also an ally to cavemen hunting in jungles. They need to kill their prey and avoid becoming one. Fear helps to keep them on their toes.

For the modern man, though, fear, in many cases, is not just useless but harmful. The fear of failure is the single biggest reason why people fail. And yet, I spot a missed opportunity. The survival instinct is a great source of motivation, if not the greatest. If manipulated, it can be tapped to our advantage.

Simpler said than done, of course. But there is a way. Whenever we put ourselves on the line by making a decision or starting a venture or promising to deliver, it involves going against our natural instinct. Having met the basic need for survival of food, clothing and shelter, doing anything more means doing more than is necessary. At such a point, in essence, we are deciding to take a risk. That is the first step forward. But with that risk comes the fear of failure that causes anxiety. If we give in to the fear and anxiety, we take two steps backward.

If we can separate fear and anxiety from the nominal risk that we are about to take, then we’ve got a way to bend this once-useful manifestation of our survival instinct back in our favour. After taking the plunge, the fear of not being able to deliver could be channeled into a motivation for action. So that separation of risk and fear, once achieved, can mean access to an infinite source of motivation.