January 2005(I wrote this talk for ahigh school. I never actually gave it, because the school authorities vetoed the plan to invite me.)When I said I was speaking at a high school, my friends were curious.What will you say to high school students? So I asked them, whatdo you wish someone had told you in high school? Their answerswere remarkably similar. So I'm going to tell you what we all wishsomeone had told us.I'll start by telling you something you don't have to know in highschool: what you want to do with your life. People are alwaysasking you this, so you think you're supposed to have an answer.But adults ask this mainly as a conversation starter. They wantto know what sort of person you are, and this question is just toget you talking. They ask it the way you might poke a hermit crabin a tide pool, to see what it does.If I were back in high school and someone asked about my plans, I'dsay that my first priority was to learn what the options were. Youdon't need to be in a rush to choose your life's work. What you need to do is discover what you like. You have to work on stuff you like if you want to be good at what you do.It might seem that nothing would be easier than deciding what youlike, but it turns out to be hard, partly because it's hard to getan accurate picture of most jobs. Being a doctor is not the wayit's portrayed on TV. Fortunately you can also watch real doctors,by volunteering in hospitals. [1]But there are other jobs you can't learn about, because no one isdoing them yet. Most of the work I've done in the last ten yearsdidn't exist when I was in high school. The world changes fast, and the rate at which it changes is itself speeding up. In such aworld it's not a good idea to have fixed plans.And yet every May, speakers all over the country fire up the Standard Graduation Speech, the theme of which is: don't give up on yourdreams. I know what they mean, but this is a bad way to put it,because it implies you're supposed to be bound by some plan youmade early on. The computer world has a name for this: prematureoptimization. And it is synonymous with disaster. These speakerswould do better to say simply, don't give up.What they really mean is, don't get demoralized. Don't think that you can't do what other people can. And I agree you shouldn't underestimate your potential. People who've done great things tendto seem as if they were a race apart. And most biographies only exaggerate this illusion, partly due to the worshipful attitude biographers inevitably sink into, and partly because, knowing howthe story ends, they can't help streamlining the plot till it seemslike the subject's life was a matter of destiny, the mere unfoldingof some innate genius. In fact I suspect if you had the sixteenyear old Shakespeare or Einstein in school with you, they'd seemimpressive, but not totally unlike your other friends.Which is an uncomfortable thought. If they were just like us, thenthey had to work very hard to do what they did. And that's one reason we like to believe in genius. It gives us an excuse forbeing lazy. If these guys were able to do what they did only becauseof some magic Shakespeareness or Einsteinness, then it's not ourfault if we can't do something as good.I'm not saying there's no such thing as genius. But if you'retrying to choose between two theories and one gives you an excuse for being lazy, the other one is probably right.So far we've cut the Standard Graduation Speech down from "don'tgive up on your dreams" to "what someone else can do, you can do."But it needs to be cut still further. There is some variationin natural ability. Most people overestimate its role, but it does exist. If I were talking to a guy four feet tall whose ambition was to play in the NBA, I'd feel pretty stupid saying, you cando anything if you really try. [2]We need to cut the Standard Graduation Speech down to, "what someoneelse with your abilities can do, you can do; and don't underestimateyour abilities." But as so often happens, the closer you get tothe truth, the messier your sentence gets. We've taken a nice, neat (but wrong) slogan, and churned it up like a mud puddle. Itdoesn't make a very good speech anymore. But worse still, it doesn'ttell you what to do anymore. Someone with your abilities? What are your abilities?UpwindI think the solution is to work in the other direction. Insteadof working back from a goal, work forward from promising situations.This is what most successful people actually do anyway.In the graduation-speech approach, you decide where you want to bein twenty years, and then ask: what should I do now to get there? I propose instead that you don't commit to anything in the future,but just look at the options available now, and choose those thatwill give you the most promising range of options afterward.It's not so important what you work on, so long as you're not wastingyour time. Work on things that interest you and increase youroptions, and worry later about which you'll take.Suppose you're a college freshman deciding whether to major in math or economics. Well, math will give you more options: you can go intoalmost any field from math. If you major in math it will be easyto get into grad school in economics, but if you major in economicsit will be hard to get into grad school in math.Flying a glider is a good metaphor here. Because a glider doesn'thave an engine, you can't fly into the wind without losing a lotof altitude. If you let yourself get far downwind of good places to land, your options narrow uncomfortably. As a rule you want tostay upwind. So I propose that as a replacement for "don't give up on your dreams." Stay upwind.How do you do that, though? Even if math is upwind of economics,how are you supposed to know that as a high school student?Well, you don't, and that's what you need to find out. Look for smart peopleand hard problems. Smart people tend to clump together, and if youcan find such a clump, it's probably worthwhile to join it. Butit's not straightforward to find these, because there is a lot of faking going on.To a newly arrived undergraduate, all university departments lookmuch the same. The professors all seem forbiddingly intellectualand publish papers unintelligible to outsiders. But while in somefields the papers are unintelligible because they're full of hardideas, in others they're deliberately written in an obscure way toseem as if they're saying something important. This may seem a scandalous proposition, but it has been experimentally verified,in the famous Social Text affair. Suspecting that the paperspublished by literary theorists were often just intellectual-soundingnonsense, a physicist deliberately wrote a paper full ofintellectual-sounding nonsense, and submitted it to a literarytheory journal, which published it.The best protection is always to be working on hard problems. Writing novels is hard. Reading novels isn't. Hard means worry: if you're not worrying thatsomething you're making will come out badly, or that you won't be able to understand something you're studying, then it isn't hardenough. There has to be suspense.Well, this seems a grim view of the world, you may think. What I'mtelling you is that you should worry? Yes, but it's not as bad asit sounds. It's exhilarating to overcome worries. You don't seefaces much happier than people winning gold medals. And you knowwhy they're so happy? Relief.I'm not saying this is the only way to be happy. Just that somekinds of worry are not as bad as they sound.AmbitionIn practice, "stay upwind" reduces to "work on hard problems." And you can start today. I wish I'd grasped that inhigh school.Most people like to be good at what they do. In the so-called real world this need is a powerful force. But high school studentsrarely benefit from it, because they're given a fake thing to do. When I was in high school, I let myself believe that my job was to be a high school student. And so I let my need to be good at what I did be satisfied by merely doing well in school.If you'd asked me in high school what the difference was betweenhigh school kids and adults, I'd have said it was that adults had to earn a living. Wrong. It's that adults take responsibility forthemselves. Making a living is only a small part of it.Far more important is to take intellectual responsibility for oneself.If I had to go through high school again, I'd treat it like a dayjob. I don't mean that I'd slack in school. Working at somethingas a day job doesn't mean doing it badly. It means not being definedby it. I mean I wouldn't think of myself as a high school student,just as a musician with a day job as a waiter doesn't think of himself as a waiter. [3] And when I wasn't working at my day jobI'd start trying to do real work.When I ask people what they regret most about high school, theynearly all say the same thing: that they wasted so much time. Ifyou're wondering what you're doing now that you'll regret mostlater, that's probably it. [4]Some people say this is inevitable — that high school studentsaren't capable of getting anything done yet. But I don't thinkthis is true. And the proof is that you're bored. You probablyweren't bored when you were eight. When you're eight it's called"playing" instead of "hanging out," but it's the same thing. Andwhen I was eight, I was rarely bored. Give me a back yard and afew other kids and I could play all day.The reason this got stale in middle school and high school, I nowrealize, is that I was ready for something else. Childhood wasgetting old.I'm not saying you shouldn't hang out with your friends — that youshould all become humorless little robots who do nothing but work.Hanging out with friends is like chocolate cake. You enjoy it moreif you eat it occasionally than if you eat nothing but chocolate cake for every meal. No matter how much you like chocolate cake,you'll be pretty queasy after the third meal of it. And that's what the malaise one feels in high school is: mental queasiness.[5]You may be thinking, we have to do more than get good grades. Wehave to have extracurricular activities. But you knowperfectly well how bogus most of these are. Collecting donationsfor a charity is an admirable thing to do, but it's not hard.It's not getting something done. What I mean by getting somethingdone is learning how to write well, or how to program computers,or what life was really like in preindustrial societies, or how to draw the human face from life. This sort of thing rarely translatesinto a line item on a college application.CorruptionIt's dangerous to design your life around getting into college, because the people you have to impress to get into college are not a very discerning audience. At most colleges, it's not the professorswho decide whether you get in, but admissions officers, and theyare nowhere near as smart. They're the NCOs of the intellectualworld. They can't tell how smart you are.The mere existence of prep schools is proof of that.Few parentswould pay so much for their kids to go to a school that didn't improve their admissions prospects. Prep schools openly say thisis one of their aims. But what that means, if you stop to think about it, is that they canhack the admissions process: that they can take the very same kidand make him seem a more appealing candidate than he would if he went to the local public school. [6]Right now most of you feel your job in life is to be a promisingcollege applicant. But that means you're designing your life tosatisfy a process so mindless that there's a whole industry devotedto subverting it. No wonder you become cynical. The malaise youfeel is the same that a producer of reality TV shows or a tobacco industry executive feels. And you don't even get paid a lot.So what do you do? What you should not do is rebel. That's whatI did, and it was a mistake. I didn't realize exactly what was happening to us, but I smelled a major rat. And so I just gave up.Obviously the world sucked, so why bother?When I discovered that one of our teachers was herself using Cliff'sNotes, it seemed par for the course. Surely it meant nothing toget a good grade in such a class.In retrospect this was stupid. It was like someone getting fouledin a soccer game and saying, hey, you fouled me, that's against therules, and walking off the field in indignation. Fouls happen. The thing to do when you get fouled is not to lose your cool. Justkeep playing. By putting you in this situation, society has fouled you. Yes, as you suspect, a lot of the stuff you learn in your classes is crap. And yes, as you suspect, the college admissions process islargely a charade. But like many fouls, this one was unintentional.[7] So just keep playing.Rebellion is almost as stupid as obedience. In either case you letyourself be defined by what they tell you to do. The best plan, Ithink, is to step onto an orthogonal vector. Don't just do what they tell you, and don't just refuse to. Instead treat school asa day job. As day jobs go, it's pretty sweet. You're done at 3o'clock, and you can even work on your own stuff while you're there.CuriosityAnd what's your real job supposed to be? Unless you're Mozart, your first task is to figure that out. What are the great thingsto work on? Where are the imaginative people? And most importantly,what are you interested in? The word "aptitude" is misleading,because it implies something innate. The most powerful sort ofaptitude is a consuming interest in some question, and such interestsare often acquired tastes.A distorted version of this idea has filtered into popular cultureunder the name "passion." I recently saw an ad for waiters sayingthey wanted people with a "passion for service." The real thing is not something one could have for waiting on tables. And passionis a bad word for it. A better name would be curiosity.Kids are curious, but the curiosity I mean has a different shape from kidcuriosity. Kid curiosity is broad and shallow; they ask why atrandom about everything. In most adults this curiosity dries upentirely. It has to: you can't get anything done if you're alwaysasking why about everything. But in ambitious adults, instead ofdrying up, curiosity becomes narrow and deep. The mud flat morphsinto a well.Curiosity turns work into play. For Einstein, relativity wasn't abook full of hard stuff he had to learn for an exam. It was amystery he was trying to solve. So it probably felt like less workto him to invent it than it would seem to someone now to learn itin a class.One of the most dangerous illusions you get from school is the ideathat doing great things requires a lot of discipline. Most subjectsare taught in such a boring way that it's only by discipline thatyou can flog yourself through them. So I was surprised when, earlyin college, I read a quote by Wittgenstein saying that he had no self-discipline and had never been able to deny himself anything, not even a cup of coffee.Now I know a number of people who do great work, and it's the samewith all of them. They have little discipline. They're all terribleprocrastinators and find it almost impossible to make themselvesdo anything they're not interested in. One still hasn't sent outhis half of the thank-you notes from his wedding, four years ago.Another has 26,000 emails in her inbox.I'm not saying you can get away with zero self-discipline. You probably need about the amount you need to go running. I'm often reluctant to go running, but once I do, I enjoy it. And if I don't run for several days, I feel ill. It's the same with people who do great things. They know they'll feel bad if they don't work,and they have enough discipline to get themselves to their desksto start working. But once they get started, interest takes over,and discipline is no longer necessary.Do you think Shakespeare was gritting his teeth and diligentlytrying to write Great Literature? Of course not. He was havingfun. That's why he's so good.If you want to do good work, what you need is a great curiosity about a promising question. The critical moment for Einsteinwas when he looked at Maxwell's equations and said, what the hellis going on here?It can take years to zero in on a productive question, because itcan take years to figure out what a subject is really about. Totake an extreme example, consider math. Most people think theyhate math, but the boring stuff you do in school under the name"mathematics" is not at all like what mathematicians do.The great mathematician G. H. Hardy said he didn't like math in high school either. He only took it up because he was better atit than the other students. Only later did he realize math wasinteresting — only later did he start to ask questions instead ofmerely answering them correctly.When a friend of mine used to grumble because he had to write apaper for school, his mother would tell him: find a way to make itinteresting. That's what you need to do: find a question that makesthe world interesting. People who do great things look at the sameworld everyone else does, but notice some odd detail that'scompellingly mysterious.And not only in intellectual matters. Henry Ford's great question was, why do cars have to be a luxury item? What would happen ifyou treated them as a commodity? Franz Beckenbauer's was, in effect,why does everyone have to stay in his position? Why can't defendersscore goals too?NowIf it takes years to articulate great questions, what do you do now,at sixteen? Work toward finding one. Great questions don't appearsuddenly. They gradually congeal in your head. And what makesthem congeal is experience. So the way to find great questions isnot to search for them — not to wander about thinking, what great discovery shall I make? You can't answer that; if you could, you'd have made it.The way to get a big idea to appear in your head is not to hunt forbig ideas, but to put in a lot of time on work that interests you,and in the process keep your mind open enough that a big idea cantake roost. Einstein, Ford, and Beckenbauer all used this recipe.They all knew their work like a piano player knows the keys. So when something seemed amiss to them, they had the confidence tonotice it.Put in time how and on what? Just pick a project that seemsinteresting: to master some chunk of material, or to make something,or to answer some question. Choose a project that will take lessthan a month, and make it something you have the means to finish.Do something hard enough to stretch you, but only just, especially at first. If you're deciding between two projects, choose whichever seems most fun. If one blows up in your face, start another. Repeattill, like an internal combustion engine, the process becomes self-sustaining, and each project generates the next one. (Thiscould take years.)It may be just as well not to do a project "for school," if thatwill restrict you or make it seem like work. Involve your friendsif you want, but not too many, and only if they're not flakes. Friends offer moral support (few startups are started by one person),but secrecy also has its advantages. There's something pleasingabout a secret project. And you can take more risks, because no one will know if you fail.Don't worry if a project doesn't seem to be on the path to somegoal you're supposed to have. Paths can bend a lot more than youthink. So let the path grow out the project. The most importantthing is to be excited about it, because it's by doing that you learn.Don't disregard unseemly motivations. One of the most powerful isthe desire to be better than other people at something. Hardy saidthat's what got him started, and I think the only unusual thing about him is that he admitted it. Another powerful motivator isthe desire to do, or know, things you're not supposed to. Closelyrelated is the desire to do something audacious. Sixteen year oldsaren't supposed to write novels. So if you try, anything you achieveis on the plus side of the ledger; if you fail utterly, you're doingno worse than expectations. [8]Beware of bad models. Especially when they excuse laziness. When I was in high school I used to write "existentialist" short storieslike ones I'd seen by famous writers. My stories didn't have a lotof plot, but they were very deep. And they were less work to writethan entertaining ones would have been. I should have known thatwas a danger sign. And in fact I found my stories pretty boring; what excited me was the idea of writing serious, intellectual stufflike the famous writers.Now I have enough experience to realize that those famous writersactually sucked. Plenty of famous people do; in the short term,the quality of one's work is only a small component of fame. I should have been less worried about doing somethingthat seemed cool, and just done something I liked. That's theactual road to coolness anyway.A key ingredient in many projects, almost a project on its own, is to find good books. Most books are bad. Nearly all textbooks arebad. [9] So don't assume a subject is to be learned from whateverbook on it happens to be closest. You have to search actively for the tiny number of good books.The important thing is to get out there and do stuff. Instead ofwaiting to be taught, go out and learn.Your life doesn't have to be shaped by admissions officers. It could be shaped by your own curiosity. It is for all ambitious adults. And you don't have to wait to start. In fact, you don't have to wait to be an adult. There's no switch inside you thatmagically flips when you turn a certain age or graduate from someinstitution. You start being an adult when you decide to takeresponsibility for your life. You can do that at any age. [10]This may sound like bullshit. I'm just a minor, you may think, Ihave no money, I have to live at home, I have to do what adults tell me all day long. Well, most adults labor under restrictions just as cumbersome, and they manage to get things done. If youthink it's restrictive being a kid, imagine having kids.The only real difference between adults and high school kids isthat adults realize they need to get things done, and high schoolkids don't. That realization hits most people around 23. But I'mletting you in on the secret early. So get to work. Maybe you canbe the first generation whose greatest regret from high school isn'thow much time you wasted.Notes[1] A doctor friend warns that even this can give an inaccurate picture. "Who knew how much time it would take up, how littleautonomy one would have for endless years of training, and howunbelievably annoying it is to carry a beeper?"[2] His best bet would probably be to become dictator and intimidatethe NBA into letting him play. So far the closest anyone has comeis Secretary of Labor.[3] A day job is one you take to pay the bills so you can do whatyou really want, like play in a band, or invent relativity.Treating high school as a day job might actually make it easier forsome students to get good grades. If you treat your classesas a game, you won't be demoralized if they seem pointless.However bad your classes, you need to get good grades in them to get into a decent college. And that is worth doing, becauseuniversities are where a lot of the clumps of smart people are thesedays.[4] The second biggest regret was caring so much about unimportantthings. And especially about what other people thought of them.I think what they really mean, in the latter case, is caring whatrandom people thought of them. Adults care just as much what otherpeople think, but they get to be more selective about the otherpeople.I have about thirty friends whose opinions I care about,and the opinion of the rest of the world barely affects me. Theproblem in high school is that your peers are chosen for you by accidents of age and geography, rather than by you based on respectfor their judgement.[5] The key to wasting time is distraction. Without distractionsit's too obvious to your brain that you're not doing anything withit, and you start to feel uncomfortable. If you want to measure how dependent you've become on distractions, try this experiment:set aside a chunk of time on a weekend and sit alone and think.You can have a notebook to write your thoughts down in, but nothingelse: no friends, TV, music, phone, IM, email, Web, games, books, newspapers, or magazines. Within an hour most people will feel a strong craving for distraction.[6] I don't mean to imply that the only function of prep schoolsis to trick admissions officers. They also generally provide a better education. But try this thought experiment: suppose prepschools supplied the same superior education but had a tiny (.001)negative effect on college admissions. How many parents would stillsend their kids to them?It might also be argued that kids who went to prep schools, becausethey've learned more, are better college candidates. Butthis seems empirically false. What you learn in even the best highschool is rounding error compared to what you learn in college. Public school kids arrive at college with a slight disadvantage, but they start to pull ahead in the sophomore year.(I'm not saying public school kids are smarter than preppies, justthat they are within any given college. That follows necessarilyif you agree prep schools improve kids' admissions prospects.)[7] Why does society foul you? Indifference, mainly. There aresimply no outside forces pushing high school to be good. The airtraffic control system works because planes would crash otherwise.Businesses have to deliver because otherwise competitors would taketheir customers. But no planes crash if your school sucks, and ithas no competitors. High school isn't evil; it's random; but randomis pretty bad.[8] And then of course there is money. It's not a big factor inhigh school, because you can't do much that anyone wants. But alot of great things were created mainly to make money. SamuelJohnson said "no man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money."(Many hope he was exaggerating.)[9] Even college textbooks are bad. When you get to college,you'll find that (with a few stellar exceptions) the textbooks arenot written by the leading scholars in the field they describe.Writing college textbooks is unpleasant work, done mostly by peoplewho need the money. It's unpleasant because the publishers exertso much control, and there are few things worse than close supervisionby someone who doesn't understand what you're doing. This phenomenonis apparently even worse in the production of high school textbooks.[10] Your teachers are always telling you to behave like adults.I wonder if they'd like it if you did. You may be loud anddisorganized, but you're very docile compared to adults. If youactually started acting like adults, it would be just as if a bunchof adults had been transposed into your bodies. Imagine the reactionof an FBI agent or taxi driver or reporter to being told they hadto ask permission to go the bathroom, and only one person could goat a time. To say nothing of the things you're taught. If a bunchof actual adults suddenly found themselves trapped in high school,the first thing they'd do is form a union and renegotiate all therules with the administration.Thanks to Ingrid Bassett, Trevor Blackwell, Rich Draves, Dan Giffin, SarahHarlin, Jessica Livingston, Jackie McDonough, Robert Morris, Mark Nitzberg, Lisa Randall, and Aaron Swartz for reading drafts of this, and to manyothers for talking to me about high school.
