YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT your future self will want. This is the tantalizing hypothesis of Hidden Brain podcast host Shankar Vedantam, who argues that we’re constantly becoming new people.
Vedantam offers the example of a hospice nurse who, having witnessed so much misery in her dying patients, made her husband promise never to extend her life if she became terminally ill. Yet, when her body was ravaged by ALS, often called Lou Gehrig’s disease, she ultimately chose to exist miserably on a ventilator to prolong her final months. In trading discomfort for more time at the end of her life, the nurse was not the person she had been before.
In my own life, I’ve come to conclude that Vedantam’s hypothesis is entirely accurate. As a high school student in Washington, D.C., I was fascinated by politics and our country’s leaders. In my senior year, I interned on Capitol Hill, which only strengthened my resolve to run for office one day.
For about 20 years, I studied policy and began planning my eventual try for elected office. By the time I turned age 36, however, I started to have serious doubts.
The older I got, the more I realized that politics is “a bag of rats,” as the actor Matthew McConaughey described it when explaining why he wouldn’t run for governor of Texas. As a kid, I thought our politicians were the greatest among us. As an adult, I’ve come to realize they’re typically merely the greatest egos among us.
Warren Buffett once said, “It’s better to hang out with people better than you. Pick out associates whose behavior is better than yours, and you’ll drift in that direction.” It slowly dawned on me that this couldn’t work for me if I wanted to hang out with politicians.
In retrospect, I feel lucky that my life’s journey thus far has included incredible adventures in the U.S. Army and as an attorney—as I prepared for a political career that never materialized.
What if this weren’t the case? What if I’d trained for a decade to become a professional athlete only to blow out my knee? Or studied to become an engineer only to decide I hated it? Wouldn’t I resent my earlier self?
To me, nothing typifies this conundrum more than the financial independence-retire early (FIRE) movement. While the “financial independence” piece is undoubtedly a worthy pursuit, the “retire early” part suggests that the profession of these folks is so miserable that they’d rather not work. I pity those in search of “RE.”
How can we plan our lives so that, in 20 or 30 years, we don’t look back with bewilderment or resentment at the career, relationship, wealth-building or health choices we now make? Here again, Vedantam offers some wonderful advice.
First, stay curious and be the curator of your future self. If we accept that we will be a different person in the future, we should play an active role in crafting the person we will become. Spend time with friends and family, and expand our horizons by pursuing new hobbies or avocations outside our current employment.
Second, as we make pronouncements about politics and policy on social media or at the dinner table, let’s remember that among the people likely to disagree with us are our own future selves. In other words, when we express views with great conviction, let’s remember to add a touch of humility.
Finally, our future selves may be physically weaker than we are today, but our future selves will also have wisdom that we don’t currently possess. When we tell ourselves that we can’t quit our jobs to start our own company, or become fluent in a new language or learn to play a musical instrument, that may be true—for now.
To close the gap between this current reality and our desired state, we must be brave enough to take the first steps to start that new business, learn our first words in that new language or string together the first few notes on that instrument.
Roughly halfway through my life, I find myself preparing for the back nine, and I want to make sure I don’t end up permanently in a sand trap. Remaining curious, staying humble and being brave seem like the best recipe to ensure that our future selves aren’t resentful of our current selves.
John Goodell is deputy director of policy and general counsel at the Texas Pension Review Board. Currently an Army Reservist, he previously served 14 years on active duty before leaving to become the general counsel at the Texas Veterans Commission. John has spent much of his career working with public sector employees on tax, investment, estate planning and retirement issues. His biggest passion is spending time with his wife and kids. Follow John on Twitter @HighGroundPlan and check out his earlier articles.
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John, the only part I take issue with is your comment regarding FIRE that “the ‘retire early’ part suggests that the profession of these folks is so miserable that they’d rather not work.” Instead, at least in my case, I’d posit simply that although work is not miserable, there are other things I’d rather do than work (I’m age 46). If given the choice of working 50 hours per week or doing other things, I’d choose the latter. It doesn’t mean work is “miserable”, but rather there are simply better things to do if given a choice and am financially independent and not in need of more dollars. Similarly, if I have a free hour, I’d typically rather read a book than mow my lawn. I don’t find mowing miserable, but there are other things I’d rather do. No need to pity me for desiring the RE part of FIRE.
Very thought provoking article. Thank you!
John – this was an exceptionally thoughtful and well-crafted piece. Thanks for making the time and using reflections on your own professional journey as an example. More than a few of us have aspired to climb the ladder of “success” professionally, only to discover as we approached the top rungs that our ladder was leaning on the wrong wall the whole time!
My first instinct is that some, but not all, FIRE movement devotees have an inborn phobia of being judged / evaluated by others in a position of authority.
The persistent fear of not being “good enough” in the eyes of a parent, boss, or other figurehead in a position to judge our actions can (if left unchecked) sometimes result in distorted sense of self-worth. For some, it creates a Sisyphean-like workaholic mindset in a never-ending attempt to prove oneself worthy of praise by an authority figure. In others, it can manifest in a “fight, then flight” type mindset that says they can suck it up and grind it out professionally for a finite period, then get the hell away from anyone professionally who they were once accountable to for outcomes.
I’ve admittedly been guilty of both of these tendencies during various phases of my professional journey. I think Eddie Vedder / Pearl Jam may have had it right in the lyrics to “Jeremy” – it likely ties way back to childhood, when for many folks “daddy didn’t give attention, or mommy didn’t care”.
So much for my pop psychology rant. Again, I really enjoy your “think piece” approach to HD posts, John!
This is awesome and really well written. I especially liked the point about staying humble—so easy to forget, especially as you get older and wiser (and can act like a know-it-all because you DO know a lot).
Good article, and your comment that we will be different in the future should never be overlooked. Making future plans is fine, but reality has a way with surprises, so be prepared but not shocked.
I was shocked by your opinion of politicians. I disagree strongly because I have known many idealistic people holding public office.
I’m glad to read that. I certainly hope there are some. In fact, we are counting on it!
While I didn’t retire very early, working until age 60, its unfair to assume that those wanting to retire early must have such a miserable career they want to escape it. I think most of the time they want time autonomy, something work interferes greatly with. I enjoyed my job a lot and mentored and helped a lot of people doing it. I can’t count the number of coworkers who have told me I was the best boss they ever worked for. But retirement is even better than work. It just is. I still help people through a large amount of volunteer work. But I control my time, and I have more time for leisure and travel. If work is your only hobby then you may not want to retire, but if that’s the case you’re missing a lot.
I’m talking about folks retiring in their 30s.
Couldn’t agree more. I retired at 53, after 30 years with one company, specifically so I could travel while I was still healthy enough to enjoy it. Seventeen years later I was grounded by ill-health, but while I enjoyed my job (at least until the last couple of years) I am very thankful for those seventeen years.
Agreed. Not to take away from worthy advice in the article in other respects, the view of the motivation toward early retirement is way too narrow. My guess is many retire for the autonomy, others because they have to for whatever reason, and a minority because they’re miserable in their job. Admittedly for me it was certainly the former and that may color my perspective.
Being miserable in your job only shortens your life expectancy…stress kills you physically and mentally.
John – don’t worry as you nailed it in your bio – “biggest passion is spending time with his wife and kids.”