How to build a barn
💰Gimme $2 for ice cream.💰
This week’s question comes to us from Rod Begbie:
I love being right. Probably more than being popular. How do you keep your desire to say "I told you so" at bay?
No one’s life has ever been improved by saying “I told you so.” No one’s life has ever been improved by hearing “I told you so.”
Our desire to say “I told you so” is driven by our bruised ego, and we’re not at our best when we let our bruised ego do the driving. Generally because our bruised ego tends to drive us in a circle leading us right back to where we were before: about to give advice to someone who has no intention of following it, and possibly didn’t even ask for it. And as satisfying as it may be to tell someone “I told you so,” it’s the connecting link in a repeating cycle. The minute you admonish someone for not taking your advice, you’re climbing right back into the crab barrel. Possibly because you’re (subconsciously?) excited about getting to tell them “I told you so” yet one more time.
Here’s why: It feels so good!
Seriously. The human body has about 25,000 nerves triggered by pettiness. (This may or may not be true, but once I post this on the internet, and you share it on the internet, it’s gonna get gobbled up by some AI LLM knowledge-sucking reverse-sphincter, then pulled into a google summary, and before you know it RFK Jr will be giving some idiotic speech mentioning that the human body has 25,000 nerves triggered by pettiness, which I’ll gleefully repost to social media, along with the message: I told you so.) We love being right. But even more than we love being right, we love it when someone doesn’t agree that we’re right, and then falls flat on their face. It feels so good.
Sadly, things that feel good might not always be a good idea. Especially when those things are driven by pettiness. And while you might not be able to control whether “I told you so” pops into your head at such moments, you can absolutely control whether it comes out of your mouth.
Let me give you a totally made up example of a thing that absolutely didn’t happen. Let’s say it’s Sunday evening and you and your partner are watching TV. One of you, who is definitely not me because this isn’t a true story, goes into the kitchen and comes back with a pint of ice cream, with the idea to just sit there and eat the whole pint, mentally justifying it because the state of the world is what it is.
“Last time you ate a whole pint you got really sick,” says your partner.
“I’ll be fine,” you—who is definitely not me—says in return.
Fifteen minutes later you’ve finished the pint, and you already feel like this wasn’t the smartest decision. Five minutes later you’re doubled over in pain. You look at your partner and you know what’s coming. But instead of playing the world’s most-deserved “I told you so” she kindly walks into the kitchen and comes back with a bottle of Pepto-Bismol.
Did she want to say it? Oh, child you know she did. Did I not me deserve it? One thousand percent. But as good as it would have felt to say it, and as deserved as it might have been, it wouldn’t have improved the situation for either party. One person would’ve still been in pain, and the other person would’ve been sitting next to an idiot in pain. Whereas the Pepto-Bismol eventually solved the problem and both people were able to get a good night’s sleep. Theoretically. This didn’t actually happen.
Looking at the current state of the world, the desire to say “I told you so” is incredibly strong, and even fair. For every terrible thing that’s currently happening, from ICE kidnappings, to the climate crisis, to the trans panic, to Silicon Valley’s right-wing turn, to the genocide in Gaza, to the fact that the US is now run by actual fascists, there’s hundreds and hundreds of people holding receipts that they did in fact tell us so. Emphatically!
Turns out we don’t listen to people when they’re telling us so. Which is absolutely infuriating, but if we actually want to change things, it’s worth exploring why.
For one, no one wants advice they didn’t ask for. This was a hard lesson for me to learn because I love giving people advice (also known as telling people what to do). And having done a lot of stupid things in my life, it’s really hard to see someone about to do a very stupid thing and not say “Hey, don’t do that stupid thing. Here’s what’ll happen…” Turns out what people hear when you say that is “Hey, I tried that once. But I didn’t do it right. You should show me that you’re better than me at it.” And then they do it, with the exact same consequences, because physics is physics.
Additionally, people who ask you for advice usually don’t want it either. And their thought process is exactly the same, but with an added question at the beginning: “Hey, should I do this stupid thing?” And again, you tell them why it won’t work, and again, they decide it didn’t work for you because you did it wrong. And then they do it, to the exact same consequences, because physics is physics.
People are more inclined to believe that they can defy physics than believe that physics exists.
Americans are more inclined to believe that their exceptionalism can protect them from consequences that much of the world has already faced—and in some cases triumphed over—but in most cases, just learned that it was a very bad idea, and they shouldn’t do it again. We’re speed running fascism because we feel like the other nations who tried it just did it wrong.
So what to do?
Well, the answer might be found in the New York City democratic primary. (Yes, I have been looking for a reason to write about Mamdani, thank you.) Where other candidates ran campaigns of fear—bad things will happen if you don’t vote for me!—Zohran Mamdani ran a campaign where he painted a picture of how things could be better. He didn’t attempt to warn you away from the scary thing, he pointed you towards a better thing, skillfully and charismatically pointing out the journey to get there. And while I’m a little skittish about using the word hope in a political context, I do think that people would rather listen to a story that paints a picture of a good thing we can all walk towards, more than they enjoy a story about a bad thing we should avoid. Mostly because the latter still begs the question “Well, what do we do instead?”
It’s easier to convince people to build a new barn than it is to convince them that the old barn is dangerous. Especially when half of them will run into the barn to prove you wrong.
Most people have an “I told you so” list in their heads, which is a fine place to keep it. It’s a fine replacement for counting sheep when you’re trying to fall asleep. Recite all the ways in which you were right, and someone else was wrong, as you slowly doze off to dreamland and perhaps the Sandman will reward you with a highlight reel of people falling on their face because they ignored your advice. What a magnificent night’s sleep that would be.
Meanwhile, who wants to help build a barn?
🙋 Got a question? Ask it! Rod did, and now it’s answered!
🖌️ So yeah, like I alluded to in the photo caption, I lost my art studio. I was done dirty. But here’s what I made in there. If you buy it I don’t have to pack it!
📣 I’ve got a couple of seats left in next week’s Presenting w/Confidence workshop. It’s a good thing to do if you’re looking for a job and/or if you have a job.
📚 Out of sheer pettiness, I TOLD YOU SO back in 2016.
🤼 Hulk Hogan died today. Fuck Hulk Hogan.
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