Do they not have one available? Did they want to feel the wind in their hair?
Plausible. But more likely:
It says something about their status and affiliation.
It’s the same reason people smoke, have tattoos, or wear suits to work.
People like us do stuff like this.
Not having a lot of work doesn’t necessarily mean we have a fulfilling career. We should care about the quality of work, which may mean a lot of work. All good projects have a price tag. When we don’t see a purpose, impact, or reason, we become despondent, and quiet quitting takes over. People are not afraid to work hard. The monotonous assembly line work makes us scared to get our hands dirty.
It’s tempting to believe something is wrong with individual actors who don’t handle their business. But competence isn’t usually the problem. It’s only one part of the equation. It’s time. Energy. Choices. Resources. Security. Safety. And so on. All that weighs heavily in our decision-making. When someone isn’t doing the thing you would do, a better way to think is, what is that person in short supply of? And perhaps, we create an opportunity to contribute with this lens.
The speed of work matters. But urgent isn’t necessarily the same as necessary. And when the default setting is “Go, go!” we are setting ourselves up for long-term failure. Every day can feel like a race; the question is: a race against whom? In a world where we have sold our time for money, psychologically, it can ruin us to think the clock is against us, changing the quality of our work.
The amygdala is so powerful that we can create emergencies that are simply not there. Work isn’t always an emergency. But when the boss says “take care of this,” we act like the job is on the line. Perhaps, it’s best to check if the sky is falling before acting. Something interesting about our news cycles is that they create an emergency that isn’t there.
The most uneven part of our culture is how a crisis is felt amongst different groups of people. Everyone felt COVID-19, but some thought it more than others. The same is true about the 2008 financial downturn. A tsunami doesn’t have the same effects as someone in Iowa. If we are fortunate to be shielded from these disasters, we must find other contributing ways. Life is an unequal distribution of suffering. And when we see it, we choose to ignore it or act.
Centuries ago, the justice system relied on character and reputation before forensic evidence was ever invented, chasing rumors to catch a criminal. Today, in theory, we try to have some evidence to reach a conclusion that is closer to the truth of what happened. But reputation still matters. It shows up in job interviews and background checks for an apartment. And maybe, the problem isn’t the blemishes on every ones reputation (we all have them), but perhaps we shouldn’t put so much stock in our assessment in people. People prove us wrong all the time. They defy the odds, challenge the status quo, and raise the bar. Sure, many behave like people do. But we do no favors in ignoring the potential in someone because we saw something in a resume that rubbed us the wrong way.
“I don’t give a damn about my bad reputation.” — Joan Jett
Sometimes, the most courageous act is to stand firm in one’s beliefs in the face of scrutiny. Just as it is essential to change our minds, it is equally important to stand firm and not be swayed by the wind. Adult trees are much better at holding their position than a young sapling.
In our culture, we are expected to control our emotions, and for good reason. To have order, you have to create a standard. “People like us do things like this.”
Yet, at the same time, we know that it is impossible to stop these emotions from happening. I don’t control when I’m hungry, and yet I get hungry. We know sleep is critical to health, well-being, and productivity, but we don’t build the culture around taking naps. Instead, we build around results, not the process.
It makes me curious what would happen if we shifted into outlets for emotions (and impulses) that are seemingly out of control. Emotions are powerful. Everyone experiences them, and yet they are the most difficult to be empathetic about—because, hey, I got feelings, too!
Jason Schwartzman didn’t see himself as an actor. He saw himself as a musician. As a result, he and Wes Anderson created a masterpiece in Rushmore. The music, however, influenced the work of acting. Jason and Wes would sit there listening to the soundtrack, prepping for scenes. The lesson here is that just because you took up acting doesn’t mean you stop being a musician. The best musicians find a way to express themselves regardless of whether they are behind a drum kit or in front of a camera.
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