SERIES: Potentially Contrarian Ideas - Miyazaki wouldn't care

I think Hayao Miyazaki would not be too worried about ChatGPT’s Ghiblification trend. It’s mostly those who are unable to create something like Miyazaki who seem to be obsessing over and ranting about copyright infringement.

Yes, he was horrified back in 2016 when he saw what AI animation produced and called it “an insult to life.” But if I understand him right, he was saying that AI would never be able to create what he can — and that he would never incorporate it into his work. And he’s right.

All AI is doing is mimicking. And while some of the results are charming — especially considering they often take less than five minutes of effort — they aren’t doing anything truly original.

And let’s be honest: the trend is literally called Ghiblification.

Even if it does produce something original, are we really arguing that artists don’t learn from existing works? Are we suggesting that if a machine does it, it’s somehow more of an infringement than if a human artist had done the same?

Are we going to ask artists to use only natural paint, which takes years to produce, instead of the incredible synthetic paints we have now?
Are we going to say that artists shouldn’t use MS Paint just because it allows things to be created faster than with watercolours?
Are we going to tell advertisers and filmmakers not to create themes inspired by popular films?
Are we going to instruct storytellers to avoid the Hero’s Journey as a structure?

It borders on the absurd.

Leonard Read already explained the modern world through I, Pencil. AI is just the next new tool humanity has discovered.

Yes, some claim AI might be the last invention of humanity. But I, for one, remain skeptical.
We shouldn’t confuse a fad with a trend. Artists will experiment with this, the market will react, and once it commodifies, new forms will need to emerge — forms that strike a chord, like Spirited Away once did. AI won’t be creating that. At least not without a prompt from a human.

Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli had a clear passion for their craft. AI today cannot mimic that.

What we’re witnessing is not just a copyright issue. It’s the age-old tension between new tools and existing power structures.
The real concern shouldn’t be mimicry — it should be about the concentration of these capabilities in the hands of anti-competitive forces.
It’s regulation and intellectual monopolies that risk stifling creativity.

On a side note, to understand better Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli's potential views, I am reading Sharing a House with the Never-Ending Man by Steve Alpert. A book by one of the few foreigners (gaijin) who spent years working with Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. I haven’t finished the book, but in the introduction I find this text below:

Studio Ghibli's films have influenced and inspired both animated and live-action filmmakers worldwide. Reflections and versions of images originally created by Hayao Miyazaki can be found in the films of well-known independent and Hollywood motion picture directors, including some major box office hits. Hayao Miyazaki has been called the Walt Disney and the Steven Spielberg of Japanese film. His influence on other filmmakers has been enormous.

Craft is about learning from the best.

And in some ways, this Ghiblification trend is a kind of homage to Miyazaki’s passion.

It’s not going to derail his creative output.

Owaranai Hito, the Japanese title of the book, translates to “The Man Who Is Never Finished.”

I will return and update my views if the book reveals otherwise 

BOOK NOTE - A Gentleman in Moscow - Amor Towles

I was introduced to Amor Towles’ books via James Altucher’s podcast with him. Amor and James discussed the writing process and particularly about creating memorable characters. I found A Gentleman in Moscow to be one of the best books I have read in recent times. Towles’ writing style is smart and witty, but also profound. You can know from the way the stories and characters interact and intersect that they are crafted with great care. And while the story builds slowly after an amazing start, it is a pleasure to read and leads up to a great crescendo and climax.

A Gentleman in Moscow is set in the early 1900s in post-Imperial Russia. It is in that unique time set soon after the Bolshevik revolution, where the true horrors of Communism and of Stalin are yet to happen, excepting off-screen. Us readers know about it, but the characters are unaware. They must find out as the story progresses. But the book’s style is not very crass to get into the horrors and describe them. It is only through the mood that we ever come across it.

The setting—the magnificent Metropol Hotel in Moscow—is as much a character as any of the human protagonists. And through the characters and the changes that happen to them, we see the golden age of Russia descend—initially into a sense of euphoria and then into the despair that Communism brings.

Along with the Metropol, Count Rostov is a perfect protagonist to show this transition. An erudite aristocrat, he knows the glories of the golden Imperial age. But he is not an out-of-touch aristocrat. He embodies what Kipling says in the famous poem If,

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much

He is the Metropol in human form, and the hotel is him as an institution.

Amor Towles has mentioned in his interview that he is not a Russologist, but the book is an amazing exploration of Russia and the divided classes in Russia of that time. What is even more fascinating is that he talks about how his writing style is not direct research-driven.

“Rather than pursuing research-driven projects, I like to write from areas of existing fascination,” he says on his website. “…I chose to write A Gentleman in Moscow because of my longstanding fascination with Russian literature, culture, and history. Most of the texture of the novel springs from the marriage of my imagination with that interest.”

As a book which captures a long period of time, and at the same time is a book of mystery and intrigue, getting the pacing right is very important. I alluded earlier that the book starts off great, but then slows down before ratcheting up the pace and a crescendo towards climax. Without giving any spoilers, this is achieved through a unique accordion style of time expansion and contraction, which is very unique to any books I have read. Towles observes how this reflects how we remember our lives as well –

While odd, this accordion structure seems to suit the story well, as we get a very granular description of the early days of confinement; then we leap across time through eras defined by career, parenthood, and changes in the political landscape; and finally, we get a reversion to urgent granularity as we approach the denouement. As an aside, I think this is very true to life, in that we remember so many events of a single year in our early adulthood, but then suddenly remember an entire decade as a phase of our career or of our lives as parents.

Some amazing life observations that have stayed with me from the book are:

“Arriving late, what a delicacy of youth”

The Count observes how it is stylish and acceptable when young people arrive late or in-between things. This is part of growing up, and even stylish. But soon fades when in middle age and the focus of lives becomes more monotonous. It made me reflect about how we lose part of our youth when we become too rigid in our ways.

“The surest sign of wisdom was constant cheerfulness – Michel de Montaigne”

The Count and the Metropol in some ways are embodiments of this maxim. They survive and even thrive by finding joy in the toughest of times. Wisdom is being able to get what you want, despite the circumstances.

In terms of historical fiction, A Gentleman in Moscow does a great job of reflecting the sense of the times. And for those interested in the strange time of transition, in one of the most radical shifts in human history—from Imperial grandeur to Bolshevik commanding heights—it is a must-read.

A masterpiece in capturing the romance of the golden age as it slips through our collective hands.
 

How to Focus on One Thing

One of the main challenges many of us face in this hyper-distracting world is the ability to focus.

Any pursuit of mastery requires some degree of focus. Real mastery demands an exceptionally high level of it. We are what we give our attention to. If we fail to do so, we are at the mercy of external forces, and mastery will elude us.

Focusing on mastery is a lifelong journey. But distraction is also a persistent, lifelong challenge. Steven Pressfield famously described this as the evil thing called “resistance" in his book The War of Art.

A 1987 Esquire article on mastery, which has recentlygained renewed interest thanks to Jerry Seinfeld’s reflections on his pursuit of it, contains a particularly insightful passage (hat tip SatPost by Trung Phan):

The modern world can be viewed as a prodigious conspiracy against mastery. We are bombarded with promises of fast, temporary relief, immediate gratification, and instant success, all of which lead in exactly the wrong direction.

Life’s incentives often favour speed. But I believe this is a false motivator—an easy trap to fall into, especially since society actively rewards it. While this hustle may be beneficial in certain seasons of life, and even suited in certain seasons of life, it is unsustainable in the long run and can ultimately be detrimental.

True joy lies in slowing down, trusting yourself, and even embracing boredom.

Monotasking is an incredible source of satisfaction. In fact, it is a luxury. If you can mono-task, you are already winning. This ability comes when you resist the urge to maximize short-term output and short-term rewards.

But how does one disconnect from distractions and push back against the "prodigious conspiracy against mastery" imposed by the modern world?

Here are some personal observations that have contributed to my success in professional, personal, and intellectual pursuits:

Ways to Reduce Distractions

• Establish a schedule — even if you don’t always stick to it.
• Set specific intentions for time blocks — separate planning from doing; frequent task-switching creates overwhelm.
• Track your progress visibly — streaks create momentum and reinforce habits.
• Identify and manage distraction triggers — know the who, what, where, and emotional/social context that lead to distractions.
• Select analogue over digital whenever possible — mindfulness increases when distractions decrease; savour experiences instead of getting lost in digital rabbit holes.

Cultivating deep engagement:

• Love the process—attach joy to intention, not just outcomes:
• Celebrate the process, not just the result.
• Observe and compliment others who embody this mindset to create a reinforcing feedback loop.
• Be comfortable with plateaus—progress isn’t always visible, but sticking with it prevents frustration.
• Approach tasks as if they’re new — curiosity enhances focus. Haruki Murakami finished writing his first novel because he seized the moment of inspiration that struck him while watching a baseball game. He didn’t overthink the logistics of publishing or the long road ahead—he simply acted on the creative impulse in front of him. Similarly, Seth Godin advises:

If you’re feeling creative, do the errands tomorrow. If you’re fit and healthy, take a day to go surfing. When inspiration strikes, write it down. The calendar belongs to everyone else. Their schedule isn’t your schedule unless it helps you get where you’re going.

• Avoid rigidity—choose flexibility—perfectionism can be a distraction; complexity should exist at the right scale.
• Incorporate playfulness—play reduces mental resistance, making focus easier (e.g., Richard Latham’s idea of "clowning around" to learn writing).

Ambiguity, and how to deal with it

Imagine you are a professional working in a corporate environment, managing multiple stakeholders and projects. One of the most critical challenges you'll face is dealing with ambiguity. Ambiguity is a fundamental experience for professionals operating in a VUCA world—an environment characterized by Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity, and Ambiguity.

The challenge of ambiguity in knowledge work

Ambiguity is particularly challenging for those engaged in knowledge work. Most modern knowledge work involves overlapping domains—technology, humanities, commerce, to name a few. While individuals can build expertise in specific fields, success often favours those who develop an intersection of skills across multiple domains. Even deep experts must collaborate effectively with others who possess different skill sets and expertise, or they risk struggling to achieve their goals.

This overlap inherently breeds ambiguity. Each domain has its own "language," and people from one domain often find it challenging to understand those from another. This dissonance arises partly from the differing objectives of each domain but largely from poor communication—whether over-communication or under-communication.

Mastering the ability to navigate and feel comfortable with ambiguity is essential for success in the modern professional landscape. It is a non-negotiable skill, requiring effort on two fronts:

• Mindset: Cultivating a growth mindset is crucial for thriving in ambiguity. Without it, professionals can quickly feel overwhelmed and unable to progress.
• Practical Actions: Translating this mindset into everyday practices helps bring clarity and momentum.

Over a meal with a friend who now works at a prestigious consulting firm, we discussed this topic. She is an analyst supporting commercial consulting teams, managing multiple projects with diverse stakeholders. Often, she must deliver value-driven outcomes without the luxury of fully understanding the domain. Her situation epitomizes ambiguity: unclear requirements, limited resources, tight timelines, undefined ownership, and non-existent processes.

How does one handle such ambiguity? Based on over 20 years of professional experience, here are a few strategies that have worked for me.

1. Frontload, Frontload, Frontload

To manage ambiguity successfully, begin before you're ready.

The concept of "frontloading your project" is well-articulated in The McKinsey Edge by Shu Hattori, though I've applied it since my early career. Frontloading means driving maximum effort during the initial phase of a project—precisely when ambiguity is at its peak. This proactive approach lays the foundation and reduces uncertainty.

Here’s what frontloading looks like in practice:

• Over-index resources early: Commit significant effort in the first week or day of the project.
• Adopt a bias for action: Engage stakeholders, list key questions, define potential outputs, and anticipate challenges.
• Build relationships: Meet with team members early to understand their perspectives and ideas.
• Plan ahead: Schedule meetings and establish timelines, even with incomplete information.

Frontloading combats analysis paralysis by prioritizing action. It fosters teamwork, incremental solutions, and momentum, which can influence others positively. By demonstrating progress, you can elicit valuable input from senior stakeholders, reduce ambiguity, and establish control over expectations.

2. Reframe the focus from outcomes to process

Ambiguity becomes more daunting when the focus is solely on outcomes. Instead, shift your attention to processes and the next actionable step.

If a clear process doesn't exist, create one. Focus on executing the next task in the sequence. This approach simplifies complexity and reduces the perception of ambiguity. Dale Carnegie famously advised living in “day-tight compartments”—focusing on today and the immediate task rather than worrying about the entire journey.

I call this approach Process Quest. (You can read more about it here.)

3. Document and follow Up

Always document discussions, ideas, and thoughts. Never rely solely on memory.

Overconfidence in our memory is a common trap, especially in ambiguous situations with many moving parts. Documenting ensures clarity, prevents conflated ideas, and helps track progress. Reviewing notes often reveals insights that may not have been apparent earlier.

Follow-up is equally crucial. Shu Hattori emphasizes that follow-up is a low-profile yet vital activity. By revisiting discussions, identifying root causes, and demonstrating sustained interest, you can effectively reduce ambiguity and uncover actionable insights.

Systems as an antidote to ambiguity

The three practical strategies above—frontloading, process orientation, and documentation—underscore the importance of systems in mitigating ambiguity. Combined with an open and growth-oriented mindset, these systems enhance resilience and clarity in uncertain environments.

A word of caution

These strategies should not be pursued obsessively or frantically. Instead, approach them with presence and intentionality. Adopt a SLOW approach as an antidote to urgency and haste. (You can explore the concept of SLOW here.)

BOOK NOTE - Steve Jobs - Walter Isaacson

I truly enjoyed reading Walter Isaacson's biography of Steve Jobs. Jobs needs no introduction, and Isaacson is among the best biographers, but I had not managed to read this book since its publication in 2011. Incidentally, my father, who is an avid reader, had purchased it in December 2011, and it was sitting in my parents' home in Bangalore. I was rummaging through the books during my recent visit, and this tome caught my attention.

I have been a fan of so many things Jobs did, his personality, and the iconic impact he has had on the world. I have loved using the iPad, but for many reasons, I had not bought into the cult of Apple. I do not like the closed-loop system of Apple devices, for instance, and I had only heard about the sort of mercurial person Jobs was. I had seen the not-so-great movie about Jobs starring Ashton Kutcher. I had consumed the many videos of Jobs talking about marketing and product design on the internet. I had watched, many times, the iPhone launch event in 2007. And of course, I had heard and read about the many things said about Jobs by the people who worked with him.

More recently, I had read Sir Johnny Ive's article remembering Jobs on his 10th death anniversary in 2021. Jobs and Ive's obsession with design was something I loved and thought highly of.

Ive writes beautifully about Steve's curiosity and the insight he brought to any situation:

"...but now, above all else, I miss his singular and beautiful clarity. Beyond his ideas and vision, I miss his insight that brought order to chaos.
It has nothing to do with his legendary ability to communicate but everything to do with his obsession with simplicity, truth, and purity."

What Ive said about Jobs' curious mind was what had primed me to pick up this book and read it straight in six days. I was wondering, as I read, what it was that made it possible for Steve to have this insight and curiosity. One was certainly his unique genius, but Isaacson offers another note from the Zeitgeist:

"The 60s created an anarchic mindset that helped imagine a world that did not yet exist."

Walter Isaacson does a great job of telling us the story of Steve Jobs—his professional and personal journey—and what you realize is that, for Steve, there was no barrier between the two. The two were the same. He lived one life and brought his intense personality to every facet of his life.

I will mention briefly below a few points that resonated with me from this masterful biography.

Reality Distortion Field

Much has been said in the book and outside about Jobs' famous reality distortion field.

How he could get people—and himself—to get things done despite seemingly insurmountable odds.
Believing and obsessing about getting something done is an important skillset, and Jobs seemed to have it inbuilt in him. Manifesting on steroids. One version of this reality distortion field is about how someone is perceived. Nolan Bushnell, the CEO of Atari, tells a young Steve Jobs that

"Pretend to be in complete control, and people will assume you are," and Steve does this most of his life.

It is different from "fake it till you make it," but in the same vein. Different because this is not about faking it at all.

The reality distortion field is all about really believing that something is real, despite all evidence against it, and willing it into reality.

Teacher Arrives When the Student Is Ready and Willing

I have often found that one is only able to appreciate something when one is ready for it.

It might be learning about something or just even appreciating a piece of art—there is a certain openness needed for the mind to form connections and reveal insight. Early in Steve's life, when he is in search of a Japanese Zen master and is thinking about traveling to Japan to visit one, he finds a spiritual master right down the road. His spiritual advisor urges him to stay, and Steve says,

"He said there is nothing over there that isn’t here, and he was right. I learned the truth of the Zen saying that if you are willing to travel around the world to meet a teacher, one will appear next door."

Often, we underestimate the power of what we already know in helping us become better.

Intersection of Technology and Humanities

We often read about the industrial revolution and technological revolution and assume it is about growth in those domains.

But what this book illustrates is it is actually the intersection of those domains with the humanities and arts that really creates progress. Jobs' unique insight that made Apple, Pixar, and NeXT—all of his creations—such amazing innovators is that they put technology in service of art and not the other way around. The growth in domains happens naturally, but it is when tech advancements are put in service of art that true progress happens. Many technology leaders, like Xerox and others, had the technology, but it needed Jobs to obsess about the graphical user interface and make it about an elegant user experience that made the progress in the field possible. Jobs' reality distortion field made that possible.

Form may follow function for the masses, but for real progress to happen, function and form need to be equally important and elevated into an art form.

I highly recommend this book because it puts you in a reality distortion field.

By describing Jobs and his characteristics and without really offering any judgment on it, Isaacson masterfully invites us into believing.

Finally, on a personal note, something which amused me because it resonated with me but was also a cautionary note: Jobs was a strict vegan for most of his life, as I am as well. What I also found revealed in his mindset, which I also very strongly share, is the concept of pleasure from restraint. Lisa, his estranged daughter, observes the following about his strict diets and fasting: "Even at a young age Lisa began to realize his diet obsessions reflected a life philosophy, one in which asceticism and minimalism could heighten subsequent sensations.”

“He believed that great harvests came from arid sources, pleasure from restraint,’ she noted. ‘He knew the equations that most people didn’t know: Things led to their opposites.”

The cautionary note in this is that despite these healthy practices, it was probably his intense obsessions that led to his health challenges.

Steve Jobs' worldview was the opposite of moderation, but sometimes, while intensity blazes bright and illuminates the path for others, it can burn out fast as well. The genius of Jobs is that he might have passed away early, but what he managed to create in the short time was so bright that it is illuminating worlds long after he has gone.

BOOK NOTE - How to Write a Mystery: A Handbook from Mystery Writers of America, edited by Lee Child with Laurie R. King

Mysteries, whether in novel form or on TV, are one of the best things in the world. A good mystery novel can transport me away from this world and provides one of the best escapes from the mundane every day. One of my first attempts at writing something as a pre-teen was a detective mystery, inspired by the many Enid Blyton adventures like The Secret Seven and The Famous Five, as well as series like The Three Investigators, presented by Alfred Hitchcock, which I spent most of my time reading.

The art of writing a mystery has fascinated me, and while I haven't yet managed to publish one, I have a few drafts and outlines lying around. How to Write a Mystery: A Handbook from Mystery Writers of America, edited by Lee Child with Laurie R. King, is a great resource for aspiring mystery writers and for those who simply want to read about how great mystery writers like Lee Child, Jeffrey Deaver, and Dale Berry approach their craft. The book offers excellent context on what it takes to build a good mystery, tips for writing across different genres of mysteries, and interesting observations from some of the best in the field.

Some of the real gems from the book that have stuck with me are the following:

1. About storytelling - Meg Gardiner, in the article Keep it Thrilling, says about storytelling: “The theater of the mind is more powerful than a bucket of blood.” Often, when we write, we try to describe everything. But storytelling can achieve even more if we let the reader's mind fill in the gaps and spark their imagination.
2. On writing children's mysteries - Chris Grabenstein notes that there is a new group of 5th graders every year, ensuring that the genre has a long shelf life.
3. On authenticity - One of the constant challenges I face is the following: I haven't, thankfully, been part of or witnessed a crime. How can I write authentically about it? Charles Salzburg offers a response to this, encouraging us not to be limited by what we know. We can let our imaginations run wild and use Google and the news cycle as inspiration.
4. On subtext - Stephen Ross provides one of the best descriptions of subtext. He describes the following grocery shopping list a character might have: “Bread. Milk. Eggs. Hammer. Quicklime. Shovel. Champagne.” He explains that this works much better than explicitly describing how the character plans a murder.
5. On villains - T. Jefferson Parker talks about the importance of the villain when he says, “Don’t underestimate the importance of this character. Villains bring the dark into which we (the authors) can bring the illumination.”

Overall, this is an amazing read and an excellent resource for inspiration on how to write a mystery.

BOOK NOTE - Norwegian Wood - Haruki Murakami

 

My main impression of reading Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood can be summarized in three words: Unrealistic, uneasy, and "give me more." I am genuinely impressed by Murakami's story of becoming the writer he is, his journey, personal circumstances, habits, and philosophy, and I can by reading this book realize why he deserves his literary rock star status.

Let me explain why I felt this book was unrealistic, and how realizing something made me uneasy and wanting more Murakami.

Without spoiling the story, the protagonist, Toru, comes across as depressed, numb, but somehow, remarkably in control of himself. He has gone through some truly traumatic experiences in his young life, leaving him both numb and strangely optimistic. He moves through life, connecting with people and seemingly leaving them better off, but we don’t really see how he himself changes—despite the story being written from his point of view. Until the reader makes the uneasy realization which I will describe below.

Despite a certain non-appealing, uninteresting quality about him, he uncharacteristically ends up sleeping with every major female character and is also implied to have unromantic relationships with many other women off the narrative screen. This seemed unrealistic to me, even within the almost melancholic setting of late-20th-century Japanese life.

The women in Toru’s life seem one-dimensional, shaped by their own major traumas. So are most of the other characters. However, here is the uneasy realization. Their traits and actions are just reflections of different parts of Toru’s own personality. Naoko, his main female interest, represents the part of him that is reflective of his trauma—his sadness and the part of him that wants to give up, and eventually does. Kizuki, his childhood friend, embodies the root of his early trauma. Midori, his other female love interest, represents the carefree, wild side of Toru, but one that is tinged with the limitations of reality. For example, Midori and Toru are unable to fully give in to their desires for each other due to real-life constraints, such as Midori’s dying father. Nagasawa, his wealthy and powerful university friend, symbolizes Toru’s masculinity—a part of himself that he despises and ultimately banishes from his life. Hatsumi, Nagasawa's fiancée, embodies the ideal partner Toru desires. She is the only one he doesn’t sleep with, because he does not respect what he desires. It’s remarkably poignant that Toru’s inability to save Hatsumi—whether from Nagasawa’s disdain —leads to the loss of his feminine ideal forever. Reiko, a much older woman and a recluse from society, symbolizes maturity—or the lack thereof. As Naoko’s close companion, she represents the memory of his troubled youth. His intimate encounter with her at the end is symbolic of holding onto the past. Storm Trooper, his quirky roommate, represents discipline and routine, which Toru mostly treats as a joke before it disappears from his life.

What left me uneasy was how unrealistic the characters feel when taken at face value as part of a conventional story—until the realization dawns that Norwegian Wood is really about Toru interacting with different parts of himself. This, to me, is the masterstroke of Murakami’s writing in this book, and left with the need to read more of his work.

Give me more!

BOOK NOTE - The Pillars of Hercules: A Grand Tour of the Mediterranean - Paul Theroux

 

A good travelogue is always a good companion, especially when you are not travelling. Paul Theroux's The Pillars of Hercules: A Grand Tour of the Mediterranean is a book about a journey that is a journey in itself. I started reading it in December 2021, and while I usually finish books fast, this one has been a slow read. I completed it in October 2024. The reason is as follows: I have been distracted and have a mild case of reading too many books at the same time.

It is a typical Theroux book, but at the same time, a bit of a pessimistic ramble. I read it with the same love-hate relationship Theroux seems to have with the places he is visiting. Theroux starts in Gibraltar and, instead of crossing the Straits to hop over to Morocco, takes the long route along the interior of the Mediterranean by road and by boat, making an epic journey to the two pillars of Hercules. He does this in the 1990s, when the whole region is going through a lot of transition but is also the Mediterranean of the romantic era, unspoiled by Instagram and travel apps.

In typical Theroux fashion, he documents the idiosyncrasies of the coastal towns and villages through the interactions he has with people there. The best among them are the meetings he has with other authors based in the region—some local, some expat, and some long dead. Along the way, he encounters Salvador Dalí's estate in Figueres, Spain, and reminisces about Hemingway's love of fiestas. In Antibes, he visits Graham Greene's home and has many such encounters with the literati of the past, all of whom found themselves and their writing inspired by the Mediterranean.

Some of the best parts of the book come when he visits notable living authors. He visits Naguib Mahfouz in Egypt and Paul Bowles in Morocco. But why I struggled with this book, only able to read it in bursts and in between finishing many other books, is because Theroux is rather caustic and utterly shreds the romantic experience one has of places like the French Riviera and the Adriatic Coast, revealing their true grunginess. I was reminded of the time I was in Naples back in 2009 and was left uninspired by it.

What kept me going was the Theroux magic of weaving history, anthropology, tragedy, and humour in his writing about the place. On reflection, this is a great book, which feels like an ugly piece of graffiti on an ancient Greek marble column.

BOOK NOTE - Why We Sleep - Matthew Walker

 

Every so often, a book changes your life. Matthew Walker’s Why We Sleep is one such book. Reading about sleep and Walker’s passionate advocacy for a good night’s rest was, ironically, the wake-up call I needed.

Society is deeply misguided when it puts hustle culture on a pedestal, and burning the midnight oil is seen as an achievement, when in fact, it endangers our lives. Walker eloquently explains how modern life has lost the essential wisdom that guided humanity long before we became Homo sapiens. Sleep, the essential ingredient of life, has unfortunately been twisted into something grotesque. By discussing the science of sleep and its importance for our physical, mental, emotional, and behavioral health, Walker hopes to reconnect us with this life-giving force.

I’ve been fortunate to have mentors who stressed not burning the midnight oil. I vividly recall April 2015, during a client workshop I was leading as a market research consultant. I was unable to clearly present data and insights to senior clients who had paid me to do so. Like many consultants, I had stayed up late perfecting the slides, only to struggle the next day. Thanks to my boss, we managed to get through it. Later, a senior colleague shared how avoiding all-nighters had made him more successful. Not everyone is as lucky as I was. I write this at a time when glorified busy lives have claimed young consultants and bankers.

Walker’s book could offer these type-A personalities a pause, reshaping their views on the life-enhancing power of sleep.

Despite knowing the dangers, this book was a wake-up call. Lack of sleep makes us hypersensitive to experience-seeking, which leads to addiction. In today’s world, where phones feed us a constant stream of junk content, addiction is easy, making our minds obese. No wonder people doom-scroll their lives away. Sleep breaks this cycle and is the antidote to anhedonia—losing pleasure in life.

As E. Joseph Cossman said,

"The best bridge between despair and hope is a good night’s sleep."

Should to could; trading one burden with another

I have a hypothesis: The fundamental schism that has emerged in society over the last 30 years, driving both hypergrowth and hyperpolarization, is the shift from the “burden of shoulds” to the “burden of coulds.”

We once lived in a world largely bound by the “burden of shoulds” – we should pray to God, we should obey our parents, we should respect our elders, we should be kind, we should set limits. While there were pockets where these rules were relaxed, society as a whole was still deeply rooted in what one should do. There was change, but it was superficial, leaving the foundational "burden of shoulds" intact.

Somewhere in the last 30 years, this has tipped. Now, society is beholden to a different burden: the “burden of coulds.” I could do whatever I want. Previously, for the last couple of centuries, this agency of “what I could do” peaked during adolescence and middle age, as autonomy and financial independence grew. But after this hype of autonomy wore off, individuals reverted to the societal norm of the “burden of shoulds”. Some were trailblazers, but most were not. And this was normal.

If we go back further into history, the possibilities for defining one’s life were extremely limited. Most people didn’t have the capability or context to pursue a life defined by “coulds.” Inter- and intra-generational sameness was common. Most people followed their fathers’ and grandfathers’ professions. For generations, people adhered to the same philosophical and spiritual beliefs, doing what they should do to remain relevant.

Challenges to the “burden of shoulds” existed, of course. When Nietzsche, for instance, ponders the source of one's habits, he was challenging the dominance of the “burden of shoulds,” but this was not mainstream thought

“Is the source of one's habits coming from innumerable cowardice and laziness, or courage and inventive reasons?”

Recently, the scales have tipped, and the majority now operate within the realm of what could be – the Art of the Possible. This, to me, explains many of the happenings in society. The hypergrowth of Silicon Valley is driven by this burden of “could” – how could we make things faster and frictionless? How could we enable endless buying on credit? How could we replace traditional currency with digital assets? How could we make overconsumption sustainable?

The entire consulting industry, in my view, peddles these possibilities – constantly advocating for change and transformation, fueled by the “coulds.” As a sidebar, Ashley Goodall, a former consulting veteran, writes in his book The Problem with Change about how the cult of disruption has taken hold among executives. He notes:

While we were all busily disrupting ourselves hither and yon, we somehow lost sight of the fact that change and improvement are two different things. In the beginning, executives thought, ‘We need to fix this problem; therefore, we need to change.’ Now, too many believe, ‘We need to change, because then all the problems will be fixed.’

Earlier, I suggested that part of the work malaise we’re seeing today is due to this burden shift. The modern professional, especially in the last 30 years, is constantly navigating between the "burden of shoulds" (what is expected of us, what we believe we must do) and the "burden of coulds" (what we can do, what seems possible). This frequent switching between the two creates a mental tax, contributing to anxiety.

On a societal level, the hyperpolarization and the widening gap between rich and poor are also products of this schism. Political hyperpolarization is a manifestation of this desire for change and the exploration of possibilities. For example, the increasingly negative rhetoric in elections, and the abandonment of common decency, are acceptable to large segments of society because it could be okay to some group of hyperpolarized people. The same can be said for cancel culture and wokeism – extreme manifestations of the “burden of coulds,” where everyone could identify with any gender they choose, disregarding biological norms.

Nietzsche, while advocating for a challenge to certain "shoulds," also warned of the dangers of abandoning them. When he said “God is dead,” he wasn’t celebrating the demise of God, but rather warning of the consequences of a society that abandons universal moral truths. He wrote this in 1882, when the long arc of this change had already started.

Many modern philosophers in the 20th century argued for the benefits of “coulds” and accelerated this change. In the world of shoulds, saving oneself was seen as something external, requiring one to follow specific rules – religious or societal. In the modern world, salvation is often considered internal – you could do whatever you want to save yourself. This shift fully tipped into the “burden of coulds” in the early 21st century.

It’s crucial to note that “could” is considered to be better than “should” in the modern world. And while there is no denying that we are better off today than anytime in history, there are some problems with this schism. “Could”  is only better than “should” if it’s not a burden. But as a society, we’ve simply replaced one burden with another.

This replacement of the certainty of “shoulds” with the uncertainty of “coulds” presents the latest challenge. We have traded one authority figure for a new one. Psychologically, humans need authority figures. So now we idolize those who appear to live freely, doing whatever they could do. 

But it binds us to this new shallow, narcissistic authority figure – the mediocre self which is eternally trapped in the burden of what could be – instead of ever being content or feeling contentment. This is why we spend hours doom-scrolling on Instagram for example, living vicariously through others' curated lives, burdened by thoughts like, “I could travel there,” “I could be perfectly healthy,” “I could be perfectly productive,” etc.

In Book of Longing (2007), Leonard Cohen offers a timeless observation:

“We are moving into a period of bewilderment, a curious moment in which people find light in the midst of despair, and vertigo at the summit of their hopes. It is a religious moment also, and here is the danger. People will want to obey the voice of Authority, and many strange constructs of just what Authority is will arise in every mind… The public yearning for Order will invite many stubborn uncompromising persons to impose it. The sadness of the zoo will fall upon society.”

The sadness of the zoo has fallen upon society.

Trapped inside the cage, burdened by what could be, we are all looking out with longing eyes.