the persistence of ego: flash lite

Each of us is born with distinct gifts, to be developed and expanded through discipline and desire, or to be left to fade through apathy and anxiety. They encompass the kaleidoscopic range of human experiences, from construction worker to concert violinist, from doorman to doctor, from gardener to golfer, from proctor to president. Yet why must society make delineations, create class categories, foster exclusivity?

A concert violinist must go through decades of disciplined practice on top of requiring the inborn gifts, yet is the construction worker—who labors through years of apprenticeship and stultifying weather conditions while helping to create the concert hall—a less valuable person?

A doctor must go through endless years of highly specific training and staves off disease, yet is the doorman—who helps to guard the doctor’s co-op against crime and murder, and keeps order—a less valuable person?

A professional golfer must devote immeasurable time to drives and putts while offering entertainment and ready aspiration, yet is the gardener—who maintains the course and cultivates beauty and oxygen with perpetual toil—a less valuable person?

A president, whether of company or country, must cultivate expansive education, political skills and charisma to guide and inspire groups of people with much at stake, yet is the proctor—who oversaw the president’s bar exam and ensures integrity and discipline within life-changing circumstances—a less valuable person?

These questions can be answered quite simply and directly. When guided by integrity on a daily basis, such positions require singular gifts and devotion while making tangible contributions to society. Who can say which is more valuable; who are we to judge?

Of course, absent the ethical aspect, the more-or-less-valuable answer becomes painfully clear. The New York Times’ Editorial Board, in “Truth and Lies in the Age of Trump,” years ago captured the current reality:

The rise of social media has been great in many ways. In a media environment with endless inputs and outlets, citizens can inform and entertain one another, organize more easily and hold their leaders accountable. But it also turns out that when everyone can customize his or her own information bubble, it’s easier for demagogues to deploy made-up facts to suit the story they want to tell. That’s what Mr. Trump has done. For him, facts aren’t the point; trust is. Like any autocrat, he wins his followers’ trust — let’s call it a blind trust — by lying so often and so brazenly that millions of people give up on trying to distinguish truth from falsehood. Whether the lie is about millions of noncitizens voting illegally, or the crime rate, or President Obama’s citizenship, it doesn’t matter: In a confusing world of competing, shouted “truths,” the simplest solution is to trust in your leader. As Mr. Trump is fond of saying, “I alone can fix it."

Even in the face of an avalanche of proof and press and pressure, for so many in public and private life the ego continues to rule and forbids them to simply come right out and say that they made a mistake, which more often than not would close the matter and that direct acknowledgement would itself engender trust!

Beyond those who demonstrate repeated ethical lapses, though, given the abundantly meaningful and measurable contributors in wide-ranging occupations across counties and countries, why in the world must ego be so prevalent? Is this person more precious than that one? Does he or she deserve more or less? Does a bank teller on the front lines of the customer experience making $35,000 a year not deserve the same respect as the investment banker putting together mergers making $3.5 million a year?

Are we using our resources to further contribute to society or to buy trophy items with little practical purpose other than to proffer ostentatious display? The Red Cross worker who assists with flash floods saves lives. The fireman who puts out flash fires saves lives. What does flash-clad self-aggrandizement save?

learning another language: cursed words

It’s a very safe bet that everyone reading this has either directly had the following experience or knows someone who has—spouse, child, friend, relative or colleague:

You’ve taken three or four years of high-school French or Spanish, then another three or four more years in college (where the offerings are significantly broader, extending from Mandarin to Russian to Hindi and all points between)… and six months later you remember a few dozen words and can't speak or read the language, as far from fluency as Paris is from Beijing. You’re intelligent and motivated, and did all of the requested homework, yet the results speak for themselves. I simply have no gift for languages, you think, and move on to other areas of study and projects that yield tangible results.

Given that being bilingual makes employees that much more valuable across our ever-smaller planet, that being bilingual engenders empathy and communication that transcend borders, that being bilingual stimulates the brain in myriad ways and can actually help to stave off or delay diseases like Alzheimer’s, why in the world are languages taught in a way that discourages progress, interest and results?

In one of countless articles and studies confirming the benefits of learning and speaking a foreign language, this excerpt from The Atlantic lyrically sums it up:

Multilingualism has a whole slew of incredible side effects: Multilinguals tend to score better on standardized tests, especially in math, reading and vocabulary; they are better at remembering lists or sequences, likely from learning grammatical rules and vocabulary; they are more perceptive to their surroundings and therefore better at focusing in on important information while weeding out misleading information (it’s no surprise Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot are skilled polyglots). And there’s certainly something to be said for the cultural pleasure of reading The Odyssey in ancient Greek or Proust’s In Search of Lost Time in French.

Yet the typical experience has students going to class two or three times a week, with perhaps an hour or two of homework. Such a schedule can no more reach fluency than a monkey can read The New York Times. And why is it that words like “rhinoceros” even come up, when words like “shelf” are left to languish in artificially closed closets of the practical?

Most motivated people can achieve fluency in their chosen language within 24 months.

What? A ridiculous claim, no? Millions of people can testify to the opposite, and more likely than not would respond by uttering or muttering a few foreign-language curse words among their limited word repertoires. Yet how many of those selfsame people devote 30 daily minutes to focused study? How many choose a language for which they feel an intense attraction—be that derived from the country’s literature, culture, architecture, food, history, music et al.? How many watch DVDs of their all-time favorite movies with the chosen foreign-language subtitles displayed? How many gather together in small groups to talk, study, laugh and support one another in the language du jour?

Parents, take note and push for more practical and enjoyable study for your kids. High school and college teachers, take note and do likewise for your students. The cursed words of frustration and futility can then be relegated to the dictionary where they belong, rather than to the classroom where they inevitably extinguish hope and joy.

the corporate ladder: climb and punishment

For so many teenagers, it's simply not an option. Their grades must be exemplary. Their SAT and ACT scores must be in one of those coveted eat-sleep-and-drink percentiles. Their college applications must be loaded with everything from athletics to community involvement. Their college grades must stand out, even when surrounded by standout students. Their graduate school years must reflect pinpoint focus. All of this more often than not leads to punishing 80-hour weeks at that longed-for corporate job, where creativity, freedom and empathy are shunted aside in favor of six-figure prestige and tireless climbing.

Companies like Google, with cash streaming in faster than it can be printed, can and do take advantage of that circumstance to encourage their employees to eat well, to exercise, to be creative, to give back—and set up their corporate campuses accordingly. Many more, though, under the constant pressure of relentlessly judged quarterly reports or simply meeting monthly expenses, demand more than the body can realistically sustain. Over time, sleep becomes a secondary concern and exercise a tertiary matter, with family activities fit in whenever possible.

And for those who make it to the top, or close to it, corporate annals are filled with stories like those of Mark McCormack, who turned his sports-marketing company IMG into a billion-dollar business only to die of a heart attack in a nursing home at age 72.

In his New York Times article, Tony Schwartz makes plain that “the demands of work for employees, at multiple levels across multiple industries, have become untenable.”

Yet the resulting salaries and benefits do provide for families, for clothes, for roofs, for cars, for college funds, for vacations, for “the good life”…. Given the ever-increasing competitiveness of our society, how does one realistically find that perpetually strived-for and almost abstruse balance?

This is hardly one of those questions that can be answered through any kind of well-defined or go-to procedure (though a heart-bypass operation or falling asleep at the wheel may well offer the needed catalyst). All that education and discipline, though, have provided unmistakable assets that can either be leveraged at the current employer or used to palpable advantage at another organization, when things like time off, time to volunteer within the community, time to care for loved ones in need and time for ongoing education can be negotiated for in advance.

The climb need not always be accompanied by punishment.