How to live an intellectually rich life

I find it fascinating how many interesting quotes turn out to be fabrications of unknown origin.

I realize more every year how I’ve failed to put what I’ve learned and thought about into practice. It’s dangerously easy to sandbox your intellectual life within your brain, where your ability to reason and navigate your inner world seems deceptively good at times. And that’s an important skill too, of course. But humans are innately social creatures and these skills are next to useless if they don’t also work effectively and reliably around other people, where you don’t control the environment, you don’t control the topic or direction or tone or whatever it might be.

If that obsession with learning the next thing manifests as an ostensibly rich inner world, you will inevitably find yourself in the void generated by antisocial tendencies. Your ideas, skills, emotions, temper, courage, and all the rest won’t have been built upon, tested, broken down, rebuilt, and refined by other human beings. You can only really be a shell of what a human is meant to be. The ultimate test, I guess, is integrating your philosophy with the world. It’s a lot harder than doing it in your sandbox.

I think many of us fool ourselves into thinking we’re doing the work of practicing philosophy in isolation, but it’s actually a distraction from the much more difficult task of practicing it with other people. People who make us angry, sad, distracted, worse than we want to believe we are. Being alone to let yourself impulsively dig deeper and deeper into intellectual or philosophical pursuits can easily be a convenient distraction from the thing we claim to be doing all along.

There’s a sort of irony in the fear or worry that you’ll never learn enough, too. You’ll certainly never get there without deep, intimate, interconnected life with other people. I really believe it. And for a lot of us, that’s incredibly scary too. To let the fear of not knowing enough keep you from truly living is a hell of a thing.

IIUC, the land that is unutilized or has forest, is either protected, too hilly, too dry, etc.

Personally I think 19th century communism was context-specific to the 19th century; we now have AI, and central planning could be done with the same computational efficiency as the stock market.

For me, communism is more about fundamental beliefs. Like "Do you believe in Jesus Christ as your savior?", the fundamental question is: do you believe that the state should serve all mankind, and that private ownership should never extend over more than what an individual can reasonably consume? Which then necessitates public service infrastructure and market places.

I think "social democrats" have more thoughts on practical applications. "Communism" is more about fundamental beliefs, i.e. the right to nationalize and collectivize private ownership. For example, it is increasingly clear that Microsoft, Amazon, etc. are becoming tyrants. They should have been broken up into smaller companies years ago. Imagine if Windows, Office, Xbox, Azure, etc. were each produced by fully independent companies? And if those companies were fundamentally obligated to serve the public market.

> You’re wondering what the point of this is? You did not slog through life, battling inhuman entrance examinations, irrational parental expectations and eight rounds of interviews to get this coveted job, only to do this data jugglery. You’re wondering - why is nobody asking the fundamental, first principles questions? Why are we not questioning our premise? Why are we misinterpreting cause and effect? Why are we chasing these vanity metrics, when the metrics themselves are poor indicators of reality? Why have we accepted as gospel truth some ‘self-evident’ principles?

> The meeting is adjourned, congratulatory messages are passed around, and a vague way forward is discussed. You shake your head, sigh deeply and groan internally, grab coffee and head to the next meeting.

I call people like the author of this post "intellectual superiors". You know, like in the meme with the fedora-wearing man looking out of a window. I was like him when I was in high school. Now trying to keep my ego in check, still struggling sometimes...

But even though the guy is such an intellectually superior person, he didn't manage to come up with the idea that maybe he's there in that meeting to... contribute? You know, you're part of the team, you're in the meeting for a reason, if you disagree with others, it's your responsibility to say it? You may be right that they are misrepresenting the data or arriving at wrong conclusions -- but it doesn't matter, because you chose to instead indulge yourself silently at feeling superior over these sheep.

Philosophers... right?