Success

Being a parent is no easy task. Once a child has been instilled with an ethical code (a monumental task in itself), the next primary objective is to teach one how to succeed in life. Ethics has been studied ad nauseam. I know this. I’ve taken so many philosophy courses that I too feel the pull to strip naked and babble incoherently in the street. But regardless the particular ethical practice one chooses, we’ve all kinda sorta agreed on what is and isn’t ethical behavior at a societal level. Being a good person doesn’t require the depth of study that professors and lawyers argue over. With a basic code of honor, learned early, we can interpret the rest.

Success, however, can be cruelly elusive. And how is success defined? Money? Power? Self-sufficiency? No. I would argue that success is defined by personal performance and overall enjoyment of life while also obtaining society’s acknowledgment. Much in the way that manhood can’t be entirely gifted to oneself, neither can success. Others must bestow the title too. Success requires prestige. And in this present society, our identities are tied primarily to our professions. Therefore, our success – and prestige – is defined by our professional achievements.

To quantify prestige, I’ll reference a set of survey data that I stumbled upon one day and held onto. It had an impact on me. By seeing how the general population ranks their perceived professional prestige, it gives meaningful insight into how we judge ourselves by what society values. They are the NORC scores for occupational prestige:

http://ibgwww.colorado.edu/~agross/NNSD/prestige%20scores.html

Our collective problem, however, is assigning prestige directly to success. How many times as kids were we asked “What do you want to be when you grow up?”? I hated that question, because there was no way to know with the limited experience I possessed at that point in my life. So I answered how most of us probably answered, with a prestigious occupation. A scientist. A teacher. A firefighter. A doctor. It all varied based on who was asking and how I was feeling that day, but the goal was the same: give the right answer and gain prestige. Giving the wrong answer, however, yielded disapproving looks and snide remarks.

And none of these answers took into account what I was suited for or enjoyed. I answered how I was expected, and even pursued some of these paths in my studies. Until the world collapsed around me.

It turns out that achieving success requires more than the prestige. It also requires aptitude for and enjoyment of its pursuit. Here is what I propose:

Aptitude + Enjoyment + Prestige, divided by 3 = Level of Societal Success

Variables defined as follows:

Aptitude = how good you are naturally at an action with relation to the Prestige.

Enjoyment = how much pleasure you derive from pursuing the Prestige.

Prestige = the achievement; the goal; the career.

Each variable, to remain consistent with the NORC scores, is assigned a value of 0-100. The formula is:

(A+E+P)/3 = Sc

Aptitude failure

Let’s look at an anecdotal example. A personal one. As a kid I was physically underdeveloped, malnourished, skinny, short, late to puberty, and almost a year younger than peers of my grade. This meant that for sports, despite me having some level of enjoyment with them, I possessed very little aptitude. Let’s say 10/100. Enjoyment, I’ll assign 70/100. Rounded up, NORC gives a professional athlete a prestige score of 65.

This equates to a Success Score of 48

That’s an F grade. Had I pursued a career playing sports, I would have had a low level of success in society’s eyes.

Note that each of these factors becomes a limiting variable. If any is assigned the minimal value, Success is reduced to a maximum of 67. I could be the greatest man alive to sample dog food, and enjoy dog food more than anyone in history, but I have yet to hear a positive story of people lauding such a profession, so societal success is limited.

Conversely, someone with no aptitude but high enjoyment will never achieve high success in a high-prestige pursuit. Enjoyment will never overcome inability. And aptitude will not overcome lack of enjoyment – that just causes burnout.

Enjoyment is a requirement

Why the equal treatment for enjoyment? Because willpower alone is not inexhaustible. It’s easy to apply oneself to a pursuit out of pure enjoyment. It’s no testament to hard work when the work itself is fun. Therefore, high achievers are lucky enough to enjoy a pursuit for which they have aptitude, in a field that is also high prestige. These are the names we know and worship as Capitalistic success stories, even though luck itself in how someone’s brain is wired had significant influence.

The lesson

My advice, then, is not to pursue a career based on aptitude and prestige alone. Nor should one blindly pursue their passion. We can’t be whatever we want to be. All factors must be equally weighed when considering the future.

So where do I rank today?

To assign numerical values to my present position, I looked to the American academic grading scale. Here’s what the internet provided me:

Letter GradePercentage RangeDescription
A+97-100%Excellent
A90-96%Excellent
A−87-89%Very Good
B+83-86%Good
B80-82%Good
B−77-79%Satisfactory
C+73-76%Satisfactory
C70-72%Satisfactory
C−67-69%Needs Improvement
D+63-66%Poor but Passing
D60-62%Poor but Passing
D−57-59%Minimum Passing Quality
F0-56%Failure

The description helps me identify a ranking by gut reaction. Here’s what I came up with:

Aptitude = 88. I’m very good at wrangling people and capturing project requirements, formulating process flows, and communicating proposals for tollgate approvals and developer intake. I don’t feel I’m excellent, however. There’s always the occasional mistake.

Enjoyment = 71. To be honest with myself, I’d consider my current work within the base tier of satisfactory. I’d prefer work that was more technical – with data, investigation, and coding. I can’t complain, but it’s not yet a perfect match. I miss these technical components from my former positions. Careers are a journey.

Prestige = 61. This is a predetermined value from the NORC survey results. Although it’s difficult to pinpoint the exact position. Plugging in my job title and LinkedIn experience, AI pairs me with “Management Analyst”:

Your work is primarily product/functional management of authentication capabilities, rather than actually performing systems analysis or software/computer science work. The old classification is based on occupation, not the prestige implied by an AVP title.

The closest matches on the Nakao–Treas list are:

1980 Census occupationPrestigeHow well it fits
Management analysts61Best functional match
Managers & administrators, n.e.c.51Good alternative if emphasizing your AVP/management role
Computer systems analyst/scientist73.70Too technically oriented
Financial managers59Banking fits, but your function isn’t primarily financial management

(88+71+61)/3=73

That’s a C+. Society sees me as a C student level of success, with potential for achieving the next grade. That’s fairly encouraging. I can’t do anything about the NORC score, but I could improve my work performance, find a better functional match, or seek out additional areas that benefit my work that I would enjoy more. I could cap out at this job with an 87 – an A-. Not bad.

In conclusion

I’ve suffered a lifetime of boomer BS. No one ever encouraged me to enjoy work. In fact, fun was interpreted by my elders to mean not learning or striving. Aptitude was an irrelevancy – hard work could overcome any deficiency. The only thing that mattered was that end career result. What kind of life is that?

We can’t escape the prestige ranking of a career. It may shift over time, but it’s primarily fixed by current societal values. What we can do is identify our aptitudes and be of present mind. It requires a lot of self-honesty, which can be uncomfortable, but only because we’ve been conditioned to embrace misery and disavow our weaknesses. Extreme suffering isn’t admirable. I’d even go so far as to claim that these false ideals are the underlying causes of American angst and violence (but this is already quite enough philosophy for one post (no naked ranting in the streets today)).

And remember, all values for the stated variables can, and probably will, change over time. This will require regular reassessment. Also remember that the prestige value may not yet be something obtained. It can simply be the goal. And just like the career, the goal’s pursuit may reveal a personal lack of aptitude or enjoyment which may not have been originally obvious. Trial and error is to be expected.

Find joy and personal strengths. You’ll achieve more success. And society will thank you. What’s not to like?

–Simon

Yew the Day: A Cutaneous Curiosity

Warning: Gore


Nothing drives home the fragility of the human body like a life-changing injury. Or from witnessing one. My old butcher shop job drove this point home with exceptional gravity, as all the equipment was specially designed to dismember and dissect mammalian bone and flesh. The band saw in particular terrified me. Half a second to cut through a cow femur. I remained on guard with that doomsday device. A coworker – not so much. His mishap involved reconstructive surgery.

The meat slicer was also a cruel machine. I never caught a finger on it while in operation, but dismantling it for cleaning was a constant potential for injury. Pulling a large circular blade out of a recessed mount was an awkward maneuver. The clumsy shape would have made the action difficult even if it wasn’t sharp – which it was. Very. I suffered many a nick. But ultimately it was freehanding a knife that finally did me in. A slip on lamb fat severed my fingertip. Nothing like getting that stitched back on without anesthetic, because injecting the wound site would have swollen it beyond stitchability.

Between that, a couple swordfighting mishaps, and a couple home knife-cleaning sessions; I’m no stranger to lacerations and sutures. It comes with the territory of my hobbies. However, these were all due to manual tools, not mechanical. My healthy fear has so far kept me from horrific injury.

But these lessons are learned. My daughter had not yet learned them. Until The Day of the Hedge Trimmer.

Warning: Gore


I was mowing. Liz was trimming the yew bush hedgerow at the front of the house. She enlisted the kid.

Oblivious to all this, I noticed The Coffee Bean making a hasty exodus. Then I received an explanation via this image:

Further assessment in the hospital revealed the extent of the injury: the hedge trimmer had sliced through skin, fat, and muscle. Threads of elastin hung from the wound:

If any of my own wounds had been that deep, I would not have been fully aware of it as mine were clean knife incisions. The hedge trimmer, however, was less surgical with its damage, leaving more of a gash than a cut.

Fortunately, no tendons or bones were damaged. She’s incredibly lucky, as this could have easily resulted in permanent loss of mobility. The attending nurse’s expertise was also encouraging, as she took a mangled scrap of human flesh and Frankensteined it back into a recognizable hand.

The kid’s lingering surrealism from the experience will hopefully remain as a lasting memory and cautionary tale. Pay attention, and use gloves. Man has built destructive machines, and they’re equally destructive to ourselves.

She’s since pointed out that we could all easily die at any moment from a multitude of body system failures. I think the lesson hit home. I didn’t even have to yell.

–Simon

AI on Quantitative Philosophy

I scoff at the idea of AI emulating human interaction. I totally get that it has the potential to replace it, but that’s very different. For example, if I need my ego crushed a little bit, I can talk to my old family. Always eager to play devil’s advocate for no reason other than to destroy someone’s ideas or life philosophy, it rarely matters what the topic of conversation is. Insert an opinion and, however grounded in logic it may be, one of them will think furiously for a rebuttal before I’ve even finished speaking. That’s a human experience that AI can’t emulate.

However, once properly instructed, AI can recreate a similar experience. Here’s my example: I asked ChatGPT to evaluate this site’s Quantitative Philosophy section – something I’m rather proud of. Here’s what it had to say:

Your style is less “academic philosophy” and more a systems-oriented observational philosophy focused on everyday modern life, infrastructure, incentives, and material reality—using practical evidence and comparison rather than abstract ideology.

I think it’s the quotations that annoy me. As if to say: “I know you think you’re being clever and all, but your ramblings are based on your own experiences and therefore flawed as objective truths, limiting your philosophy to the material rather than being scalable to the intangible.” It further went on to tell me that I didn’t coin the term.

Fuck you.

I did adjust the settings to be more direct, so I supposed I asked for it.

This part, at least, seems fair:

Amusingly so, in fact, since the entire bases for my “philosophy” was self-identified as satire built upon observed struggles by people to over-quantify the human experience. The big realization here is, therefore, that despite limitless data aggregation, AI still can’t create itself as a human facsimile with all the bizarre mental conditions that doing so would normally include.

I still win, and I managed to do so without causing an emotional meltdown.

I wonder if I could also direct it to sound more condescending?

–Simon

Perishable Skills and Overthinking

I haven’t shot my bow all winter. So on a whim, I fired some arrows off.

How about that?

I guess my muscle memory ultimately outlasts the mental aspects of a given task – not exactly a profound revelation. I mean, this is why training routines focus of repetition. It was just interesting to see firsthand. Stop thinking and just act. Go figure.

–Simon

Fish Most Foul

I am obviously not a very faithful practician of Christianity. That much should be inferred from this site. I employ more secular forms of ethics, which deviate from the religious system of absolutes.

So what is this edict of giving something up for a few weeks to demonstrate piety about? Is it a moral reset to prevent personal decadence? The practice doesn’t make me feel like a better person. Would I give up caffeine and explain to my coworkers that I’m incredibly cranky and late to meetings because I’m currently trying to appreciate Jesus’ suffering? I fail to see the net gain for anyone in that scenario.

But as it is, Christians eat fish on Friday during Lent for this reason – because it’s giving up “meat” for one day a week and therefore a personal sacrifice. I don’t think this lesson is very effective, given the ubiquitous excitement for Friday Fish Frys and the restaurant deals that run during this time. Eat a fillet of fried cod instead of a burger? Oh darn. Such a demonstration of faith! Such self-inflicted suffering!

Whatever the reason, it’s also tradition. I like fried fish, any my in-laws like Catholic customs. So here we can align on the end goal, if not the reasoning. Fish fry it is!

Plus onion rings. Yum!

But wait! It gets better.

If we’re going to eat fish and “suffer” for Jesus, let’s actually suffer. This can, gifted to my by my sister several years ago, contains Surströmming! Dun dun dunnnnnnnn. Frequenting the top of many a lazy blogger’s “stinkiest foods in the world list”, this funky fish hails from Sweden. What begins as an already stinky fish – herring – becomes enhanced through years of fermentation. I thought shrimp paste and fish sauce were bad. Oh no, Asians got nothin’ on the Scandinavians.

Having passed this can back and forth with my mother-in-law who talked a big game but then chickened out, it made a fitting appearance at our annual Catholic fish fry. And, ignoring cautions from my sister about opening it under water, I dug in a can opener with conviction and promptly sprayed the deck with primordial marinade. But at least I opened it outside.

Imagine a sweaty foot stepping on a washed up dead fish in a saltwater marsh. Apply that visual imagery to your sense of smell and you’d be close. Then think of that bag of greens you left sealed in the bag in the fridge until they got slimy, combined with a raw fillet of fish that you didn’t get to in time but wondered upon discovery if it wasn’t too late too cook and opened to find out. That would be how it tasted – as well as how it felt.

Traditionally, it’s meant to be served in very small portions upon other strong foods – somewhat in concept to a solid version of the aforementioned fish sauce and shrimp paste. Sensing a lack of group interest, however, I decided to dive right in and get the experience over with.

I could sort of comprehend a culinary use. My conclusion, however, was that this was invented by an old Swede who couldn’t taste anymore and kept yelling at his kids to feed him something nice and fishy like he remembered.

Points for bravery at least. Perhaps the Vikings of old, and Jesus, would be proud.

–Simon