#389 Don’t overdo it – but don’t underdo it either

Here’s a question Tim Ferris asks startup founders (and himself) when deciding to invest time and money into a new project:

“If, in one (or two, or three) years from now, this whole project has failed miserably… Which assumptions you hold today were proven wrong?”

Tim Ferris

Answering the question first requires defining failure and success.

For my project of publishing a daily insight on this blog success looks like this:

Write & publish.

Edit.

Write & publish.

Edit.

Then write & publish some more.

Good, bad, well-received or not, received or read by anyone at all, it doesn’t matter.

Because first of all, writing is a creative outlet for me.

Second: long as I write & publish consistently, I trust I will get better at writing and publishing.

Finally: I trust that from all that sculpting away, day by day, will come better and better insights.

A pretty low bar for success – which, counterintuitively, often leads to more progress long-term.

Now we have established that:

What are the assumptions that could be wrong if next year, it turns out I failed to write & publish every day?

Here are some I can think of:

• Writing and publishing every day is going to be a long-term fulfilling activity for me
• I am truly fine with writing and publishing without anyone ever reading it
• I am fine spending considerable time on starting a new project that I might never monetize
• Writing & publishing every day really leads to better writing skills and interesting insights (although even if this assumption is false, it wouldn’t necessarily stop me from writing.)

Will these assumptions be proven wrong?

Only time will tell.

Until then… I write & publish… then write & publish some more.

The 1 minute you decide not to spend on writing.

The one sentence you decide not to read in the language you’re learning.

The one message you don’t send to a friend or relative.

The one Tiny Trust Builder that got away.

Luckily, tomorrow is a new day?

When technology and AI outpace us and we can’t be the best, smartest, fastest, strongest on the planet anymore – will we still care about our economic output?

When results have become irrelevant, what are the things I will still want to do?

Maybe we’ll rediscover value in our actions themselves and the pleasure and pain they make us feel – happy, sad, useful, worthless, brimming with purpose, overflowing with self-hatred…?

Will I still write just because I enjoy writing, even if AI could write a better-researched, more insightful book than I ever could?

Will I still learn a language just because learning a language makes me feel good, even if I could use an instant translation device to talk to anyone in the world?

Will I still spend my days in an office cubicle if that’s a painful prospect?

An era of soul-searching is coming.

Today, you may have to use brute force to do what’s good for you.

But one day, the habits installed by brute force may well be the lifeline keeps you afloat.