The Stoics, like the Buddhists, liked making lists of stuff, and virtue, what they considered “the highest good”, is actually four different things. Wisdom, courage, temperance and justice.

Ryan Holiday has decided to write a book about each of them, and I’m going to share what I think about Discipline is Destiny, the second in the series, detailing the virtue of temperance.

The positives? Ryan Holiday is a smart, productive dude, and he reads a lot of books. Any book you pick up by him will have a high chance of containing an interesting quote, anecdote or lesson from history. As much as I’d like to say that I’ve read 1300 pages detailing the life of Robert Moses, it’s easier to peer in via an airport paperback. Discipline is Destiny is no different than his other Stoic Buffet™ books, and I’ve listed out my favorite quotes below.

The negatives? Ryan’s industrial strength reading and note-taking ability becomes his weakness, as he struggles to weave together all these nuggets of wisdom into a coherent whole. Like his mentor Robert Greene, he’s a systematizer. He looks for patterns, connects the dots and applies scaffolding to make sense of life. But unlike like Yuval Noah Harrari, Nassim Taleb or Alain de Botton, nothing really fresh emerges from the system. This book felt strangely dense yet fluffy at the same time. The sporadic insights from Ryan are index-card sized. What is missing here is a book-sized insight. Without a central argument, or even strong chapter structure, contradictions start piling up. On one hand you’re nodding your head at a piece of wisdom, and at the same time glancing up at the chapter title and thinking really?

Toward the end of the book, Ryan writes that “the four virtues are about instilling character – good character- so that at the critical point, a person’s true nature kicks in.”

That is an interesting idea, that I wished was explored more. It’s not like some self-help author invented the idea of discipline to sell books. This stuff, along with the capacity for courage, love, wisdom etc is in us already. Which makes you look at the instructions and examples from famous people a little differently. Did they actually know what they were doing? Or did that particular virtue come easier to them? Is the sword-saint of Japan or a five star general doing something special, or just being themselves, in a way that looks special to the outside eye? Some of the characters here clearly worked extremely hard to stay disciplined in their fields, others simply don’t seem to have an off-switch. Even Ryan is quick to say that none of them (the Queen included) is perfect.

---

Off-seasons: A feature of athletic life that those of us in other professions should consider adopting.

Absolute activity of any kind leads to bankruptcy. – Goethe

Epicurus had a surprising definition of pleasure: “sober reasoning, searching out the motives of every choice and avoidance, and banishing those beliefs through which the greatest disturbances take possession of the soul.”

Marcus Aurelius tells us to chill: Don’t feel exasperated, or defeated, or despondent because your days aren’t packed with wise and moral actions.

Freedom is an opportunity for self-discipline. – Eisenhower 

On Theodore Roosevelt’s strenuous life: “While in the White House, I always tried to get a couple of hours exercise in the afternoons.”

Word I hadn’t heard before, and I’m unlikely to ever hear again: “Military commanders speak of the value of celerity.”

E.B White turning down an invitation to a prestigious commission like an absolute boss: “I must decline, for secret reasons.”

“When you have nothing to fear, your mind becomes dull.” – Floyd Patterson

“I have taken more out of alcohol than alcohol has taken out of me.” – Churchill. Can you say the same? All that stuff you do/eat/drink/say every day. What are you getting out of it?

William Thalhimer, a jewish businessman reflecting on dealing with an anti-semitic: “I came out here to purchase that piece of land. I got the piece of land. It belongs to me now, not to him. That man can go on cursing me as long as he likes. I have that land.”

Money is exactly what he deserves. – Musonius Rufus

“Why didn’t you do your best?” Admiral Hyman Rickover asking Jimmy Carter a particularly hard interview question.

Cleanthes, a stoic philosopher, came upon a man berating himself for some failure. “Remember,” he said kindly, “you’re not talking to a bad man.”

“Lift me up and hurl me, wherever you will. My spirit will be gracious to me there – gracious and satisfied.” – Marcus Aurelius

Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance
By Angela Duckworth
Simon & Schuster, 2016

What is it about?

What we achieve in life depends on our passion and perseverance for long term goals. In other words, how gritty we are. Most of us go through life unsatisfied, dipping our toes, sampling and quitting early and often, especially when the going gets tough. We can become more gritty with deliberate practice and with some help from our friends, parents, coaches and the environment around us.

A few key ideas

Practice like a toddler

To master something, you need to practice. We’ve only got so much time and energy in the day, and some of that needs to be spent deliberately if you’re going to get anywhere. For me, practice can be described as pleasant and painful. Easy and hard. Sweet and sour. Some days you’re in a flow state, others you’re banging your head against the wall. Ideally, you’re doing both at once. Terry Laughlin thinks you can do so by not judging yourself too harshly. Little kids understand this without needing to read pop-psychology. When they are interested in something, they don’t mind making mistakes or spending hours learning something new.

The dojo is the teacher

“There is no more miserable human being than one in whom nothing is habitual but indecision.”

William James

Although science doesn’t really back it up, Duckworth intuits that grit is enhanced somehow by a structured activity, outside of your regular routine. I think most parents would agree. Why is that? Pursuits like ballet and basketball tend to have a supportive yet demanding authority figure like a coach and the environment is often designed to encourage you to keep at it, whether it’s motivational lingo or the culture that can rub off on you. If you’re setting off on a long path to get good at something, you want like-minded people around you and structure to help build new habits.

The benefit of digging an endless hole

“I’m not afraid to die on this treadmill.”

Will Smith

Most people are constantly distracted by more interesting stuff, so nothing ever becomes truly interesting. When we go deep into something, or simply spend a lot of semi-enjoyable time practicing, we learn a sort of reverence for the process. Swimming or maths are bigger than us in every possible way. At enough depth, or with enough time, the activity becomes sort of irrelevant. You learn more about yourself, and most importantly you realize that anything you learn can be transferred to other parts of your life.

Is it hard to live a gritty life?

Duckworth uses the example of Tom Seaver, a legendary baseball pitcher who “devoted (his) life” to pitching “the best I possibly can day after day”. It’s tempting, but I would be wary of imitating Seaver. On paper, he sounds incredibly disciplined and gritty. But perhaps these gritty habits were not forced, or designed top down, but naturally unfolded once he settled on something he liked to do. I would bet that Seaver isn’t “gritting his teeth” when he picks something healthy to eat, goes to bed early or doesn’t drink alcohol because he’s pitching the next day. For him it’s second nature, it’s habit, it’s who he is, it’s easy, it’s effortless.

What’s this book about?

Zen and Art of Consciousness (2011) is a short, non-fiction book about the nature of mind, or rather, the nature of Susan Blackmore’s mind. To investigate her own consciousness, Blackmore meditates systemically on a series of questions or ‘koans‘ like “How does thought arise?” In summary, she argues that science should be focused on explaining things like the illusion of ‘self’ and free-will rather than the hard problem of consciousness.

My review

Blackmore is a good writer, thinker, scientist, but a fairly average zen student. She doesn’t want to chop vegetables. She’s annoyed with everything. The book sees her hammering a series of zen koans with an embarrassingly large hammer of intellect and logic. She knows there must be an answer and has to get it right. Even her Zen master gets exasperated. At one point he gives her a red card for thinking too hard. Despite shooting waaay past the target, she stumbles across many insights (although even a profound insight isn’t safe from her ruthless interrogation).

A few interesting ideas

The world just bubbles up as it is

It’s all just happening anyway, whether I like it or not.

Thoughts are … like the crackling of the fire, the drifting incense smoke, or the bleating of sheep. By the time you notice them they have already been going on for some time.

Despite trying to think really hard, and not-think really hard, she notices that her general awareness doesn’t actually require any effort. Sounds keep sounding. The breath keeps breathing.

---

“Time and again I found that my mind had summed up the options, chosen one, carried it out, and moved on.”

I thought this was an interesting perspective on free will. We spend a lot of life wringing our fingers over decisions big and small. The pain is often stemming from the fact we are conscious that a conscious decision is even required. Blackmore observes that decisions will continue to get made whether you are aware of that process or not. William James talked about this here.

The rationale of yogic breathing exercises: Practised systematically, these exercises result, after a time, in prolonged suspensions of breath. Long suspensions of breath lead to a high concentration of carbon dioxide in the lungs and blood, and this increase in the concentration of CO 2 lowers the efficiency of the brain as a reducing valve and permits the entry into consciousness of experiences, visionary or mystical, from ‘out there’.

Aldous Huxley – Heaven & Hell (1956)

Long suspensions of breath, increases carbon dioxide in your lungs and blood. We’ve known the mystical effects of carbon dioxide for hundreds of years. Breath becomes a tool to change body chemistry and interface previously thought untouchable systems.

Wim asks us to change our body chemistry with breath and cold water. Wim is interesting because he has approached these practices seeking wisdom (reading the Yoga sutras in Sanskrit apparently) and walking the walk / experimenting with all his physical stunts.

But in terms of actual substance, everything aside from the ‘basic breathing technique’, is a bit cringe.

“The shadow is the self’s emotional blind spot”. You could say that your shadow is reflected unconsciously in certain things you do: your responses, your aversions, addictions, and even the books you read.

Last year I read a lot of books, including quite a bit more fiction than usual. I was looking for shorter length books, most are under 200 pages, but otherwise my criteria was very open. Anything that stood out, or looked interesting got some attention.

Individually, many of the books that I read last year are objectively good. Well written, interesting, won awards, and I finished them all – which is saying something. But combined together, they paint quite a scary, obvious picture of my shadow. I will note that although the themes of these books are depressing and dark, I rarely felt sad reading them. I didn’t even select them thinking “I’d like to read a really fucked up book today”. I suppose that’s how the shadow rolls.

In the future I think I will treat books a lot like films or any other art form. With more respect to their emotional component. In a similar way you treat a shot of high grade Tequila or a small pistol, there’s a lot of power packed into a short novel or film, and should be enjoyed responsibly.

2022 reading list, proceed with caution

South of the Border, West of Sun – Haruki Murakami	Nightclub owner rips his life apart over an old flame, who might represent the void.
The Factory – Hiroko Oyamada	Meaningless, Kafka-esque lifetime of work in a factory.
What we talk about when we talk about love – Raymond Carver	Broken marriages and tense relationships, manslaughter
Raised by Wolves – Jess Ho	Hospitality worker didn’t like her time in hospitality
Night Train – Martin Amis	Suicide, Crime, Policing
Kitchen – Banana Yoshimoto	Grief, loss, longing, nostalgia
No one is talking about this – Patricia Lockwood	Impact of the internet on our generation, grief
Snow country – Yasunari Kawabata	Flawed, depressed businessman falls in love with a Mountain Geisha
Winter in Sokcho – Elisa Shua Dusapin	Eating disorders, Innkeeper in snowed in hotel, fleeting relationship with traveller
Love in Big City – Sang Young Park	Authenticity in age of Tinder hook ups, Homosexuality
No longer human – Osamu Dazai	Lonely man wears mask to get by in society, doesn’t like himself
Fuccboi – Sean Thor Conroe	Masculinity, relationships for millennials
Whatever – Michel Houellebecq	“A depressed and isolated man”