On Resolutions
We are what we do. This is the lesson from Aristotle. At least, this is pretty much all that I can remember from reading the Nicomachean Ethics in a reading group several years ago. But truth be told, one does not need to read ancient Greek philosophy to understand this axiom of human behavior: no doubt that any line of inquiry in science, anecdotal observation, or moral philosophy will conclude something similar. What is unique is the equally ubiquitous observation that so many people fail at their new year’s resolutions. I have no hard data to verify this claim, but I don’t need any because the claim is so widely accepted as to be common sense.
What does interest me is the reason why we can’t follow through with our resolutions. My own best guess is that we fail to follow through because we fail to make clear, actionable, goals to pursue. For example, the number one news year’s resolution is to lose weight, just google it. But this number one goal demonstrates why people fail. They cannot act on it. What do I mean? Simply put, “lose weight” says nothing meaningful to the person who makes this goal because the goal itself is too vague and abstract. It is kind of like a politician saying they will “build the economy” without giving explicitly clear policies and actions that will work toward that end. If you want to achieve a goal, you can’t work toward that goal unless you first state the actions that are related to that goal.
This brings me back to Aristotle and my new year’s resolutions. I have a list of personal and professional goals that I want to accomplish this year. [Before you ask, no “losing weight” is not included; but I do specific physical activities like rock climbing and surfing.] On this blog I only want to list my professional goals and then perhaps explain the underlining logic behind them:
- Write 1000 every weekday
- Complete a writing course
- Read the following books:
- William Zinsser’s On Writing Well
- Steven King’s On Writing
- Leo Strauss’s City and Man
- Deleuze’s Kafka & Strauss’s Persecution and the Art of Writing (read them together)
- Gilson’s Christian Philosophy of Saint Augustine
- Octavio Paz’s The Labryinth of Solitude
It isn’t hard to see the two main themes, writing and philosophy. Even the philosophy of Deleuze, for example serves the purpose of writing because that work is Deleuze’s treatise on “minor literature,” something that Strauss called esoteric writing. I’m interested in exploring how these two seemingly unrelated, disparate philosophers have a theory of writing that, on first impression, seem to converge. Related to this theory of writing is my own effort to improve however much that I can, my own writing skill. Dedicating time every day to writing at least a 1000 words will aid this effort, as will a focused course on professional academic writing. The thing about writing is that it is hard work. Just as a professional athlete has to engage in deliberate practice over a range of skills and then bring them together in sport, so too must a professional writer work on the craft by breaking down the various parts and practice each of those skills.
As for the other books on the reading list, they all touch on various themes of future research projects that I have in mind. I don’t know where I am going for a Ph.D. this fall, and if I did know, it would be foolish to attempt to game my preparation by reading what I think will make me a better student. Instead, I want to read a small collection of works that I have been meaning to read for my own self-edification and consider what research agendas I can pursue in my future. That’s why I have what looks like a random set of unrelated works, because I do.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering why I don’t have Aristotle in my list if I opened with him. I listed him in my “personal” list of new year’s resolutions. But that is a different piece of writing for a different day.
