Value of Life

Captain Bonespurs now has a flesh wound. Former president-elect Donald J Trump was the target of a not-so-sharpshooter yesterday. Immediately resorting to Godwin’s Law, I wondered if this was like the philosophical hypothetical asking, ‘Would you kill baby Hitler to prevent the eventualities that unfolded?’ Was Hitler the symptom or the disease? What about Donald J? Whatever the cause or motivation, not unlike the fire at the Reichstag, this event has galvanised his supporters. Let’s hope that the outcome doesn’t follow the same path. There is a fear that he’ll take a path similar to Hitler or Ceasar before him in a quest for power.

What is a life worth? The average US-American life is valued at around $7 million, give or take a few million. The number ranges between $1 MM and $10 MM depending on which agency you see. That they equate lives to dollars is curious enough, but that they can’t agree on a single figure is priceless.

For background, this value is used to determine intervention. For FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Agency), a human life is worth about $7.5 MM For the EPA (Environmental Protection Agency) it’s slightly more than $10 MM. Are these cats playing Monopoly? Nah.

The human life calculus considers factors like lifetime earnings potential and discounts it to Present Value. In action, assume there is a disaster. Let’s not use COVID-19. Instead, there is an island with 1,000 inhabitants. Using the $10 MM per person figure to simplify the maths, we would be justified in spending up to $10,000,000,000 to intervene in some potential disaster – $10 MMM or $1e10.

Human lifetime value is an average. Mr Trump has already shown himself to be worth more than $10 MM. I suppose this means that not all humans are created equal. No matter. Another logical question might be what is the cost of a person’s detriment to society. This is a question for a Modernist or someone who feels that a given configuration of society is preferred to all others – or at least some others. How much damage might one human do?

Trump enriched himself and his family and entourage in his first term. In Ukraine, Zelenskyy and his lot bilked the country out of billions. It’s nothing new, but do we subtract the costs from the benefits or is this a gross calculation?

Irrespective of the costs, the next four years ahead are expected to be tumultuous no matter which corporate-sponsored party prevails. Heads, they win; tails, the country – if not the world – loses.

Declaration of Independence

It’s July. The season of independence in the United States. Independence from the overt tyranny of Britain, but not from the tacit tyranny of their government—the government purported to be ‘of the people, by the people, and for the people‘ per Abraham Lincoln’s 1863 Gettysburg Address. As their Constitution reads, ‘We the People‘. Governments may be of the people and by the people, but governments are an emergent phenomenon as happens when oxygen and hydrogen combine just so and create water. Two gases combine to create a new substance—water. Some forget that, like water, government are a distinct element to the people that constitute it. Some think it resembles them. It doesn’t. It’s Hobbes’ Leviathan—or a Jabberwok.

In preparation for the traditional Summer season, I took to reading Derrida’s 1976 essay, Declarations of Independence. It was interesting, but I was hoping to get more from it. I decided to deconstruct the opening paragraph—the preamble—of the Declaration of Independence:

Deconstructing Binary Oppositions

Self-Evident vs. Non-Self-Evident

The Declaration boldly asserts that ‘these truths’ are ‘self-evident’,’ a claim that is nothing more than a rhetorical trick. By presenting these ideas as self-evident, the authors seek to place them beyond questioning, discouraging dissent and critical examination. In reality, these ‘truths’ are far from universal; they are the product of a specific cultural and historical context, shaped by the interests and perspectives of the privileged few who drafted the document.

Interrogating Assumptions and Hierarchies The Declaration of Independence asserts that certain truths are ‘self-evident’, implying that these truths are so obvious that they require no further justification. However, the concept of self-evidence itself is far from universally accepted. It is deeply embedded in the philosophical tradition of Enlightenment rationalism, which holds that reason and logic can reveal fundamental truths about the world.

  1. Philosophical Foundations of Self-Evidence
    • Enlightenment Rationalism: The idea of self-evidence relies heavily on Enlightenment rationalism, which posits that certain truths can be known directly through reason and are therefore beyond dispute. Philosophers such as René Descartes and Immanuel Kant emphasised the power of human reason to uncover self-evident truths. Descartes, for instance, argued for the self-evident nature of ‘Cogito, ergo sum‘ (‘I think, therefore I am’) as a fundamental truth (Descartes, Meditations on First Philosophy).
    • Critique of Rationalism: Critics of Enlightenment rationalism, including existentialists like Friedrich Nietzsche and phenomenologists like Martin Heidegger, argue that what is considered self-evident is often culturally and historically contingent. Nietzsche, for example, contended that what we take as ‘truth’ is a product of our perspective and historical context, not an absolute given (Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil).
  2. Cultural and Philosophical Contingency
    • Cultural Relativity: Different cultures and philosophical traditions may not find the same truths to be self-evident. For instance, the concept of individual rights as self-evident truths is a product of Western liberal thought and may not hold the same self-evident status in other cultural frameworks. In many Eastern philosophies, the focus is more on community and harmony rather than individual rights.
    • Subjectivity of Self-Evidence: The term ‘self-evident’ implies an inherent, unquestionable truth, yet what one group or culture finds self-evident, another may not. This variability reveals the instability and subjectivity of the claim. For example, in traditional Confucian societies, the emphasis is placed on hierarchy and duty rather than equality and individual rights, demonstrating a different set of ‘self-evident’ truths.
  3. Constructed Nature of Truth
    • Language and Context: Jacques Derrida’s concept of différance illustrates how meaning is not fixed but constantly deferred through language. What we consider to be “truth” is constructed through linguistic and social contexts. Derrida argues that texts do not have a single, stable meaning but rather a multiplicity of interpretations that change depending on the reader’s perspective and context (Derrida, Of Grammatology).
    • Social Construction: Michel Foucault’s analysis of power and knowledge further deconstructs the notion of objective truth. Foucault argues that what is accepted as truth is produced by power relations within society. Truths are constructed through discourses that serve the interests of particular social groups, rather than being objective or self-evident (Foucault, Discipline and Punish).

Created Equal vs. Not Created Equal

The Declaration’s claim that ‘all men are created equal’ is a blatant falsehood, a manipulative promise designed to appease the masses whilst maintaining the status quo. The glaring contradictions of slavery and gender inequality expose the hollowness of this assertion. Equality, as presented here, is nothing more than an ideological construct, a tool for those in power to maintain their dominance while paying lip service to the ideals of justice and fairness.

Creator vs. No Creator

The Declaration refers to a ‘Creator’ who endows individuals with rights, grounding its claims in a divine or natural law. This invokes a theistic worldview where moral and legal principles are derived from a higher power. However, Derrida challenges this by showing that the concept of a creator is a cultural and philosophical construct, not a universal truth.

The presence of the creator in the text serves to legitimise the rights it declares. However, this legitimacy is contingent on accepting the cultural narrative of a creator. Secular and non-theistic perspectives are marginalised by this assertion, revealing the ideological biases inherent in the Declaration. The authority of the declaration is thus shown to be dependent on particular beliefs, rather than an objective reality.

Unalienable vs. Alienable

The notion of ‘unalienable Rights’ is another empty promise, a rhetorical flourish designed to inspire loyalty and obedience. In practice, these supposedly inherent and inviolable rights are regularly violated and denied, particularly to those on the margins of society. The Declaration’s lofty language of ‘Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness’ rings hollow in the face of systemic oppression and injustice. These rights are not unalienable; they are contingent upon the whims of those in power.

Conclusion

Through this deconstruction, we expose the Declaration of Independence for what it truly is: a masterful work of propaganda, filled with false promises and manipulative rhetoric. The document’s purported truths and self-evident principles are revealed as arbitrary constructs, designed to serve the interests of the powerful while placating the masses with empty platitudes.

As some celebrate this 4th of July, let us not be fooled by the high-minded language and lofty ideals of our founding documents. Instead, let us recognise them for what they are: tools of control and manipulation, employed by those who seek to maintain their grip on power. Only by constantly questioning and deconstructing these texts can we hope to expose the truth behind the facade and work towards a more genuine understanding of freedom and equality.

References

  • Jacques Derrida, “Declarations of Independence,” in Negotiations: Interventions and Interviews 1971-2001, ed. Elizabeth Rottenberg (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2002).
  • Jacques Derrida, Of Grammatology (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1976).
  • Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002).
  • Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (New York: Vintage Books, 1995).
  • Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998).
  • René Descartes, Meditations on First Philosophy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996).

Perfect and Relative Pitch and Reality

Perception of Reality™ is akin to having relative pitch. Unlike pitch, where some people have perfect pitch – the ability to name a note or chordal composition without any other reference – it is unlikely that anyone has or will have access to objective reality – analogically: perfect pitch for reality.

As I’ve mentioned, I believe that all our experiences and interactions with reality are relative, if not wholly subjective. There may exist an objective reality, but for reasons already noted – cognitive and sense perception deficits –, we can never access it.

Musically, If someone plays and identifies a reference note, say A (or do in movable do solfège), and then plays a major fifth above (or sol), a person with relative pitch can hear that fifth interval and identify it as an E. Everything is about relationships. In music, the relationships are intervalic, but we know where we are based on where we’ve been. A person with perfect pitch requires no such priming. They can identify the first A note without prompting.

Our experience with reality is also relative, but no one has the equivalence of perfect pitch. No one has access to objective reality – if there even is one.

I don’t deny that there could be an objective reality. I just believe it’s inaccessible. I am a qualified realist – so, not a physicalist –, but I don’t believe in supernatural or paranormal events. A so-called ‘supernatural’ event is merely an event that hasn’t yet been described in ‘natural’ terms.

Now that I got that off my chest, what are your thoughts on objective reality? Lemme know.

Objective Challenges

I’ve just published this video on YouTube, and I want to extend the commentary.

Video: What do Objective, Relative, and Subjective mean in philosophy?

Many people I’ve encountered don’t seem to grasp the distinctions between objective, subjective, and relative. Subjective and relative seem to be the biggest culprits of confusion. Let’s focus on morality just because.

There are really two main perspectives to adopt. If one believes in Objective Morality, one believes morality derives from some external source and is bestowed or mandated upon us. The source might be important to the believer, but it’s unimportant for this article. If one believes in Relative Morality then the source is socially dictated and has similar challenges to the notions of Social Contract Theory insomuch as one may not subscribe to the expectations.

For the Objective moralist, there may exist a schism between the expectations of the mandate and the subjective feelings of the individual. In fact, this may occur for Relative moralists as well. The individual will always maintain some subjective perspective on morality and then compare and contrast it with the higher order, whether Objective or Relative. In either case, acting on this subjective impulse risks being at odds with the members of the higher order. If this morality is codified into law – as it often is – then to act on that impulse makes one a criminal.

Take abortion for example. Whether this is an edict from God or just a social construct doesn’t matter. If one is in a society where abortion is seen as ‘bad’ or ‘wrong’, one’s subjective position on the matter is of little value. However, a Relativist society might also adopt a position of tolerance that is less likely to come from Objectivists.

A challenge is that a Subjectivist may only become apparent if one is counter the Relative or Absolute position. If your society is against abortion and you are, too, is this your subjective position or have you been indoctrinated with it and accept it uncritically, whether it’s deemed Objective or Relative.

Perhaps you feel that eating dogs or monkeys is immoral if not disgusting, but if you had been reared in a culture that does this, you might find it immoral to eat pork or beef. The question remains, is this a Subjective position, or did you merely inherit the Objective or Relative stance?

This question is very apparent in which religion one adopts. It is no surprise that the largest factor in which religion you choose is the religion of your family and their family and so on – so not so much a choice.

I was raised in a WASP family in New England among predominately Italian Roman Catholic peers. Despite this, I identified as an atheist early on. In my late teens, I stumbled on Buddhism and identified with it. However, I remain ignostic except when it encroaches on my personal autonomy – for example in the case of laws restricting access to safe abortions.

Death Revisited

A year ago, in March 2023, I spent nine weeks in hospitals. I remember the day I almost died. It was not life-changing or life-affirming. No tunnels, lights, angels, or life on replay in slow motion. Just me monologuing. Gasping for breath.

I was breathing three units of Oxygen through my nose, but I wasn’t getting enough. The staff upped the dose to five units and administered it through a face mask. I was gasping. They were pushing on a string. I wasn’t getting the Oxygen. Instead, I was gasping like a fish out of water.

No lights – just monologue. Being contemplative, I do this often anyway. I remember telling myself, just pick a side; flip a coin; in or out; live or die. I was indifferent to the outcome. I just wanted the suffering to end. Full stop. I had no investment in either outcome. I’ve lived a good life. I was at peace. I am at peace. A year on, and I’m still recovering.

The last thing I remember was telling a nurse, “I think you need to intubate me.”

“We might have to; she replied.

The next day, I awoke with tubes down my throat after an emergency surgery to drain fluid around my heart.

I can’t claim to have experienced a near-death experience, NDE, but I was on the threshold. There was no other side. No pleading. No review. Just me in the world I was thrown into – what Heidegger termed Geworfenheit.

This is all of us. Here without volition. Just trying to make it through. Before this incident, I didn’t believe in ageing. I was invincible. I lived life like a younger person, and no end was in sight.

Perhaps I was too quick to say this was not life-changing. Now, I realise the fragility in life – at least I was fragile. I aged overnight – and then some. Overshot my chronological age. This is where I remain. Vulnerable.

Although I’d like to return to work, I am still not employable. Besides all of the medical visits and physiotherapist, my ankle is broken, awaiting repair, and my hands still don’t quite work. I can type. I’m typing this. Slowly. Twenty words a minute. Lots of backspacing. A computer application might assist with this, but none do quite so. This translates to a twenty per cent productivity output. Not great.

I’ve always considered myself to be a knowledge worker, but I never realised how much I still need my hands. I’m not just a brain in a vat. I need to engage with the world.

I am recovering – slowly and not without setbacks. Still, I persist. I took the road less travelled. Might I have been better off taking the other road? It’s hard to say.

Cognitively, we humans have an endowment effect: We value what we have. For now, I have life. Irrational or otherwise, I’ll cling to it. I’ll hope for a better tomorrow, but hope floats. Hope and a dollar won’t buy you a cup of coffee at Starbucks. It’s a vapid yet very human fiction. I hope this next year will be better than the last. Let’s see where it goes.

Is Progress a Zero-Sum Game?

I won’t resolve this here, but I’ve been thinking that Progress™ is a negative-sum game. Perhaps it’s zero-sum, but it’s almost definitely not the positive-sum game they purport it to be. Thinking about this, I am considering the indigenous culture having imposed upon it the culture of process. Almost immediately, we can measure their level on a common scale. Like a video game, they begin at level one. But would they have been better off not to have started the game?

In our relentless pursuit of Progress™, we often herald each technological breakthrough and economic milestone as a step forward for humanity. Yet, beneath the surface of these celebrated advancements lies a more contentious reality—one where the gains of progress are not universally shared and may, in fact, come at a significant cost to others and the planet. But what if this so-called progress is, at its core, an illusion, a zero-sum game cleverly masqueraded as a universal good?

The Subjectivity of Progress

Consider the conventional definitions of progress: a forward or onward movement towards a destination, or development towards an improved or more advanced condition. At first glance, these definitions seem straightforward, suggesting a linear, universally beneficial trajectory. However, this perspective fails to account for the inherent subjectivity of what constitutes “improvement” or “advancement.” What we often celebrate as progress is, in reality, aligned with specific interests and values, frequently at the expense of alternative perspectives and ways of life.

Take, for example, the imposition of industrialised progress on indigenous cultures. To the architects of Progress™, the introduction of modern infrastructure and technology to these communities is a clear marker of advancement. Yet, from the perspective of those communities, this so-called progress can signal the erosion of cultural identity, autonomy, and a harmonious relationship with the environment. Is it truly progress if it diminishes the richness of human diversity and ecological balance?

The Illusion of Linear Progress

The analogy of the expanding universe offers a poignant critique of our linear conception of progress. If I journey from Earth to Mars, I have moved forward in a physical sense, but have I progressed? And if progress is measured by the mere act of movement or change, then how do we reconcile the destructive spread of a disease or the displacement of a community for urban development with our ideals of progress?

This perspective echoes the sentiments of thinkers from Rousseau to Thoreau, who questioned the very notion of progress as a benevolent force. History, often penned by the victors, may paint a picture of continual advancement, but this narrative obscures the losses and regressions that accompany so-called progress.

Redefining Progress

If progress in its current form is a zero-sum game, with winners and losers dictated by narrow definitions and interests, then it’s time we reconsider what true progress means. Perhaps it’s not about the relentless pursuit of growth and innovation but about fostering well-being, sustainability, and equity. This requires us to expand our definition of progress to include the health of our planet, the preservation of cultural diversity, and the well-being of all its inhabitants.

Conclusion: Beyond the Illusion

The assertion that “there is no progress; there just is. We just are,” invites us to transcend the binary of progress and regress, to embrace a more holistic understanding of our place in the world. It challenges us to find balance in being, to recognise that the pursuit of progress at any cost can lead us away from the very essence of what it means to be human and to live in harmony with the natural world.

As we navigate the complexities of the 21st century, let us critically examine the paths we label as progress, mindful of who sets the course and who bears the cost. In redefining progress, we have the opportunity to chart a course that is inclusive, sustainable, and truly forward-moving—for all.

Hemo Sapiens: Awakening

I’ve been neglecting this site as I’ve been focusing on releasing my first novel, which I’ve now managed successfully. I published it under a pseudonym: Ridley Park. The trailer is available here and on YouTube.

Hemo Sapiens: Awakening is the first book in the Hemo Sapiens series, though the second chronologically. The next book will be a prequel that tells the story about where the Hemo Sapiens came from and why. I’ve got a couple of sequels in mind, too, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself.

In summary, Hemo Sapiens is shorthand for Homo Sapiens Sanguinius, a seeming sub-species of Hemo sapiens Sapiens—us. In fact, they are genetically engineered clones. It’s a work of near-future speculative fiction. It’s available in hardcover, paperback, and Kindle. If you’ve got a Kindle Unlimited account, you can view it for free in most markets. The audiobook should be available in a couple weeks if all goes well.

Awakening explores identity, belonging, otherness, and other fictions. It talks about individualism and communalism. It looks at mores, norms, and more.

Check it out, and let me know what you think.

AI is Science Fiction

In the heart of the digital age, a Chinese professor’s AI-authored Science Fiction novel snags a national award, stirring a pot that’s been simmering on the back burner of the tech world. This ain’t your run-of-the-mill Sci-Fi plot—it’s reality, and it’s got tongues wagging and keyboards clacking. Here’s the lowdown on what’s shaking up the scene.

AI Lacks Originality? Think Again

The rap on AI is it’s a copycat, lacking the spark of human creativity. But let’s not kid ourselves—originality is as elusive as a clear day in London. Originality is another weasel word. Everything’s a remix, a mashup of what’s been before. We’ve all been drinking from the same cultural well, so to speak. Humans might be grand at self-deception, thinking they’re the cat’s pyjamas in the creativity department. But throw them in a blind test with AI, and watch them scratch their heads, unable to tell man from machine. It’s like AI’s mixing up a cocktail of words, structures, themes—you name it—and serving up a concoction that’s surprisingly palatable. And this isn’t the first time, not long ago, an AI-created artwork won as best submission at a state fair. In some cases, they are seeking AI-generated submissions; other times, not so much.

AI and the Art Debate

So, AI can’t whip up human-level art? That’s the chatter, but it’s about as meaningful as arguing over your favourite colour. Art’s a slippery fish—try defining it, and you’ll end up with more questions than answers. It’s one of those terms that’s become so bloated, it’s lost its punch. To some, it’s a sunset; to others, it’s a can of soup. So when AI throws its hat in the ring, it’s not just competing—it’s redefining the game.

The Peer Review Question Mark

Here’s where it gets spicy. The book bagging a national award isn’t just a pat on the back for the AI—it’s a side-eye at the whole peer review shindig. It’s like when your mate says they know a great place to eat, and it turns out to be just okay. The peer review process, much like reviewing a book for a prestigious award, is supposed to be the gold standard, right? But this AI-authored book slipping through the cracks and coming out tops? It’s got folks wondering if the process is more smoke and mirrors than we thought.


What’s Next?

So, where does this leave us? Grappling with the idea that maybe, just maybe, AI’s not playing second fiddle in the creativity orchestra. It’s a wake-up call, a reminder that what we thought was exclusively ours—creativity, art, originality—might just be a shared space. AI’s not just imitating life; it’s becoming an intrinsic part of the narrative. Science fiction? More like science fact.

The next chapter’s unwritten, and who knows? Maybe it’ll be penned by an AI, with a human sitting back, marvelling at the twist in the tale.

Geopolitical Positioning

Some have asked me why I comment on the conflicts of the world since I am a nihilist who doesn’t believe in nations and borders. The answer is that I still have emotions and can still apply logic. Besides, much of my argument revolves around selective vision and cherry-picking.

Two conflicts have been in the news lately—Israel-Palestine and Russia-Ukraine. I think I can frame this without taking sides.

Israel-Palestine

On 7 October, Hamas attacked Israeli citizens. This is a crime against humanity. Israel declared war on Palestine and attacked their citizens. This is both a crime against humanity and a war crime. Israeli officials claim that it is justifiable because the militant Hamas were hiding behind Palestinian ‘human shields’, targets that included hospitals and other infrastructure.

However, 7 October didn’t happen without history. I’m no historian, but Israel’s occupation of Gaza has been considered illegal since 1968. If we accept this frame, Hamas are roughly equivalent to the French resistance during WWII, doing what they can to rid the oppressors. I think this video by a fellow philosopher provides some historical context, so I’ll stop here and recommend it.

Spoiler Alert: This affair commenced circa the nineteenth century.

Russia-Ukraine

We all know this story. Russia invaded Ukraine without provocation on 24 February 2002. Putin just wanted to reform the former Soviet Union, right? Well, not so fast. While I disagree with this narrative, I also disagree with its historical framing as well as the claim that Ukraine had some long-standing sovereignty and its people were all asking for liberation from the West.

Again, let’s rewind to 2014—nah, 1989, the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of the Cold War™, an event that would commence a period of unprecedented peace—if not for that pesky Military-Industrial Complex. Drats. Not good for profits. Never gonna happen. Promises made. Promises broken.

You’ll notice in this Belgian (French language) map that Ukraine didn’t yet exist in 1769. We can see Crimea, which was controlled by the declining Ottoman Empire.

No history lesson today. Do your homework. Nothing is back and white.

Good Enough

As I approach my sixty-second year on earth, having almost expired in March, I’ve been a bit more reflective and introspective. One is categorical. I’ve been told over the years that I am ‘good’ or ‘excel’ at such and such, but I always know someone better—even on a personal level, not just someone out in the world. We can all assume not to be the next Einstein or Picasso, but I am talking closer than that.

During my music career, I was constantly inundated with people better than me. I spent most of my time on the other side of a mixing console, where I excelled. Even still, I knew people who were better for this or another reason. In this realm, I think of two stories. First, I had the pleasure and good fortune to work on a record with Mick Mars and Motley Crue in the mid-’80s. We had a chat about Ratt’s Warren DiMartini, and Mick told me that he knew that Warren and a spate of seventeen-year-olds could play circle around him, but success in the music business is not exclusively based on talent. He appreciated his position.

In this vein, I remember an interview with Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine. As he was building his chops he came to realise that he was not going to be the next Shredder or Eddie Van Halen, so he focused on creating his own voice, the one he’s famous for. I know plenty of barely competent musicians who make it, and I know some virtual virtuosos who don’t. But it involves aesthetics and a fickle public, so all bets are off anyway.

As I reflect on myself, I consider art and photography. Always someone better. When I consider maths or science, there’s always someone better. Guitar, piano? Same story.

Even as something as vague and multidimensional as business, I can always name someone better. I will grant that in some instances, there literally is no better at some level—just different—, so I sought refuge and solace in these positions. Most of these involved herding cats, but I took what I could.

Looking back, I might have been better off ignoring that someone was better. There’s a spot for more than the best guitarist or singer or artist or policeman for that matter. As a musician, I never thrived financially—that’s why I was an engineer—, but I could have enjoyed more moments and taken more opportunities.

When I was 18, I was asked to join a country music band. I was a guitarist and they needed a bass player. I didn’t like country music, so I declined—part ego, part taste. Like I said, aesthetics.

As I got older and started playing gigs, I came to realise that just playing was its own reward. I even played cover bands, playing songs that were either so bad or so easy. But they were still fun. I’m not sure how that would have translated as playing exclusively country music day after day, but I still think I might have enjoyed myself—at least until I didn’t. And the experience would still have been there.

I was a software developer from the nineties to the early aughts. I was competent, but not particularly great. As it turns out, I wasn’t even very interested in programming on someone else’s projects. It’s like being a commercial artist. No, thank you. It might pay the bills, but at what emotional cost?

I was a development manager for a while, and that was even worse, so I switched focus to business analysis and programme management, eventually transitioning to business strategy and management consulting. I enjoyed these more, but I still always knew someone better.

On one hand, whilst I notice the differences, it’s lucky that I don’t care very much. Not everyone can be a LeBron James or a Ronaldo, but even the leagues are not filled with this talent. I’m not suggesting that a ten-year-old compete at this level, but I am saying if you like it, do it. But temper this with the advice at the Oracle of Delphi: Know thyself. But also remember that you might never be the best judge of yourself, so take this with a grain of salt. Sometimes, ‘good enough’ is good enough.