Category: Book review

When widespread coronavirus restrictions first began to take effect last month, I was in an airport.

I suddenly became acutely aware of people around me serving food, cleaning tables, maintaining equipment, and many more. Clearly, I thought, I have not appreciated such people enough or sufficiently expressed my thanks. They (along with other more obvious examples of first responders and medical staff) were putting their health on the line to serve me and others, to keep society functioning, even if it was at a reduced level.

What they were doing was courageous, putting their own well being at risk for the sake of others. I also realized, however, that some of them had no choice. They could not afford to stay at home without pay for weeks or months. They had no savings, no family safety net to fall on. They could not do their jobs virtually via laptop and Zoom.

One grocery store worker feels the label of hero is misplaced for her and others. And she raises good questions. At least hazard pay should be a consideration for such workers.

Heroes, nonetheless, may not always look like what we expect. They do not always arrive with a uniform, a cape, a superpower, magical abilities, or exceptional cleverness.

In Louis Sachar’s novel, Holes, Stanley Yelnats is a wonderful, unexpected hero. He is a bit overweight, awkward, doesn’t seem particularly smart or charming, has little by way of leadership skills, and in fact often gets picked on by other kids. He is almost the definition of ordinary, if not forgettable. Yet the whole tale of injustice, bad luck, and obsession hangs on his steady, unflappable, and forgiving character.

How? Stanley does not take life too personally—the good or the bad. He also makes room to help those in need. Zero, for example, wanted to learn to read. Stanley helped him despite ridicule and potential punishment. Finally, Stanley has grit. He doesn’t give up. He undramatically keeps plodding ahead, moving forward, when others would have stopped.

Years ago I saw the movie based on this book. As I read it recently for the first time, I remembered some of the story. But I found it to be a splendid reminder that even ordinary people can be heroes by virtue of their ordinariness.

image credit: Pixabay Scottslm

“Be an adult. Quit your whining. Grow up.”

Jordan Peterson is the crusty, old coach who does not tolerate excuses, lack of effort, or stupid choices. He expects the best from you and won’t settle for anything less—not because he needs another victory but because he wants the best for you.

Listening to him read his book, 12 Rules for Life, you hear how he’s fed up with parents who coddle and refuse to correct their children, with people who won’t take care of their own health, with those who expect only good things in life and are surprised when bad things happen.

Judging by the sales of his books and views on YouTube, people seem to love his no-nonsense lectures—even when he’s shaking a finger at them. In an age when no one seems to know what’s right or wrong (or doesn’t believe in such things), how reassuring it is to hear from someone who confidently tells us exactly what to do.

Fortunately, Peterson has much wisdom to offer—yes, common sense.

• If friends are having a bad influence on you, break the relationship. Instead, find people who will help you in life.
• Tell the truth, even when it is hard, because if you don’t, the prevarication will come back to bite you.
• Listen, really listen, to other people. You might learn something.

Peterson illustrates his principles with compelling stories from his own life, and backs his thinking with research from psychology, brain science, evolutionary science, and religion. He takes the Bible seriously, viewing it through the lens of his Jungian perspective on myth. That is, he sees the Bible as a valuable source of truth about human nature and how life works, leaving aside whatever spiritual realities it might contain.

I don’t agree with everything the old coach says, but there is so much of value here that it well deserves five stars and the wide reading it is getting.

It’s not too early to think about that graduation speech you are going to give next May. David Brooks has some ideas about what you should not say.

Early in The Second Mountain, David Brooks delivers a devastating critique of the hyper-individualism one usually hears in commencement speeches: Be yourself. The future is limitless. Look inside for truth. Follow your passion. This, Brooks says, is the counsel of despair for most college students have no idea who they are, what they are passionate about, or how to go about making a future. Such advice rather than energizing them, puts the full responsibility for their lives on their own shoulders which cannot bear the weight.

The image of the second mountain suggests what Brooks has in mind instead. The first mountain is that of personal achievement, of individualism, and personal happiness. But this is often followed by a descent into a valley of moral, career, or financial failure—or just a vague depression. We ascend out of the valley to the second mountain via self-sacrifice, committing ourselves to something bigger than we are alone.

As the book progresses, we learn of Brooks’s own valley—divorce, children leaving the nest, living by himself in a small apartment, and his crushing loneliness. On his way out of the valley Brooks created Weave: The Social Fabric Project of the Aspen Institute. We thus hear a number of stories of people and organizations building community in a variety of ways, large and small, to repair or broken society. We also hear of his journey into a community of faith, and the people who walked this path with him such as John Stott and the woman he eventually married.

After his critique of individualism, the book focuses on major four commitments that are larger than ourselves—vocation, marriage, philosophy and faith, and community. Along with his introductory chapters, the last two sections are the strongest in the book.

In his opening to The Second Mountain, David Brooks says he is correcting his previous book, The Road to Character. I think, however, the two are simply companion volumes. While the earlier book focuses on the valid and important work of character development that each of us is responsible for, Brooks’s newest book highlights the importance of community for who we are.

I also found a kinship between this book and Ben Sasse’s, Them. Our increasing isolation from one another has led us to gravitate toward twisted forms of connection. As Brooks says, tribalism is the evil twin of community. The first is defined by who is our foe. The second by who is our friend. Both Brooks and Sasse emphasize the need to renew community and social networks (to actually get to know people face to face) to break down the hate that unnecessarily divides Americans from Americans.

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Photo credit: Alan Sun

Talent is overrated. Hard work is undervalued. (Writers, take note.)

That’s the message psychology researcher Angela Duckworth argues throughout her book Grit, a message she illuminates with varied stories and interviews. The combination of passion and perseverance (her definition of grit) is a much greater predictor of success than any innate ability.

High school students who stick with an extracurricular activity—any activity—for at least two years are much more likely to graduate from college and succeed in life than those who don’t.

She also argues that grit is not itself a talent, just something we are born with. Rather we can grow in grittiness through practice and by becoming part of a gritty culture. Parents and coaches who offer loving support and high expectations can help their children and athletes not just improve in skills but grow in their stick-to-it-tive-ness.

Duckworth’s perspective is much like that of psychologist Carol Dweck in her book Mindset (which I reviewed here). For Dweck, the fixed mindset believes talent, ability, brains are God-given and there is nothing we can do to improve. The growth mindset focuses on improving, on learning. The outcome is secondary. The result? Those with the growth mindset tend to do better than those with a fixed mindset.

Duckworth gives a nod to the fact (as research shows) that our environment (society, family, culture) can profoundly affect our grit. The culture of Finland, as one example, can train a whole country to be tough in adversity. So grit is not merely a matter of pulling oneself up.

In fact, our environment can also have a profoundly negative effect and train us in helplessness. More research is needed in this area than Duckworth provides. Our background doesn’t doom us, but she says little about how it makes emerging from this handicap infrequent and a major challenge. Exceptional people from difficult backgrounds don’t invalidate the rule. They prove the rule.

One other helpful bit I’ll mention: While “Follow your passion” is good advice, we don’t always know what our passion is right away. It takes trying many different things, sometimes over a period of years. But, she advises, while experimenting, don’t quit in the middle of a season or a semester even when you realize it is not for you. See it through to a logical stopping point—another way to grow in grit.

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photo: Lapland Winter Snow (adege, Pixabay)