Consistent or interesting?
The time we spend dealing with the part of life that we call "the human experience" ends up dealing quite often with our own narrative, the story that we tell about ourselves, not only as individuals, but also as families, neighborhoods, company departments, sports team fans, nations and even as the humanity at large. The trouble comes mainly from two antagonistic forces that come into play when it comes to our thoughts, beliefs and actions. On the one hand, we all want to our story to be interesting, personal, individual and unique to us, even when we all wake up in the morning, work or go to school, eat, meet friends or family, run errands and then go to sleep. So considering that 95% of our actions are virtually identical to those of any other human been, there is admittedly some (but not too much) wiggle room to distinguish ourselves by doing something different.
On the other hand we are in desperate need for consistency: customs are not only comfortable from an emotional point of view, but they also save a lot of effort in designing our day. Having to choose too often would be unbearably tiring, so we often choose once and keep the choice for several future repeats and even for situations that are just similar and not truly identical: if you like your burger with bacon in your favorite franchise, you are likely to pick the bacon burger as well even if you go to a different one, just because the effort of picking from scratch is worse than the discomfort of not getting the exact burger you are used to (but still OK, since it comes with bacon).
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In a certain sense, we all aspire to be different from the others but the same as we have always been. In fact, it is a well documented phenomenon that, as our tastes unavoidably drift over time we frequently "correct" our memories to make them consistent with our current likes and dislikes even at the cost of fidelity. But this is all part of the illusion of self, the idea that we are a whole that persists over time with a certain set of immutable characteristics even if others necessarily change.
Last week I was reminded of an episode of one of my regular podcasts, "Oh Howard, you idiot!" from Revisionist History. It tells the story of how a lesser novelist called Clifford Irving sets off to interview and write the autobiography of billionaire and notable recluse Howard Hughes in the late 1960s. Later on it turned out that Irving had dutifully researched Hughes's life, but he never got to interview him and instead the whole project was nothing but a hoax, a very solidly built hoax, but a hoax nonetheless, and the writer was forced to confront the reality when Hughes himself convened a conference call with the press to clarify that he had not been involved whatsoever in the preparation of the book.
But what captivated my imagination in this story is that the same struggles to be interesting and consistent are in open display in various ways. Irving went to great lengths to make the book look authentic and even investigated things like the speech patterns of Hughes to make sure that the transcripts of the alleged conversations were credible to anyone who knew the billionaire in person. At the same time, he peppered a lot of curious anecdotes that were trivial enough to be untraceable but surprising enough to be interesting, like the one occasion where he tells that Hughes "carried a bag of prunes in his pocket". Beautifully odd and, at the same time, impossible to disprove.
Hughes's live also shows the same forces: he loved movies, airplanes and (being seen in) the company of beautiful women, so he did everything in his power (which was quite large) to pursue his interests even if it endangered his estate and gave him a bad reputation in certain circles. However, his own aversion to social contact made it hard for him to be seen, especially in the light that he wanted to be seen, so he also spent significant amount of money in what were essentially publicity stunts in order to ensure that the public opinion held him in high regard.
In his famous treaty "The Art of War", ancient Chinese general Sun Tzu recommends
Be extremely subtle even to the point of formlessness. Be extremely mysterious even to the point of soundlessness. Thereby you can be the director of the opponent's fate.
but of course that is easier said than done. The moment one pursues some level of consistency, we start to take shape and are not "formless" anymore. And to be interesting we need to be heard and seen, which might also give a hint to the enemy of which way you are coming from. In some sense, the ancient general is pointing it out very clearly: following the usual human path of consistency and desire to impress the others will make you predictable and leave you at the mercy of your opponent's will. This contradiction with the human impulses is precisely why it is so hard to be a good general and why his teachings are still current 25 centuries later.
I have to admit no to care too much for inconsistency and in fact go to great lengths and invest a lot of mental effort in making choices time and time again, even taking pride in finding that my opinions have changed, because that makes my life more interesting for me. What is your position? Do you prefer consistency over change or the other way around? You comments are welcome below. Have a nice evening.
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