One good idea could cost you thousands of your daysJeffery Lewis, Time Trades
Richard Feynman kept a list of questions in his mind throughout his life. He called these “open problems.” Here are some of them:
- How can I write a sentence in perfect handwritten Chinese script?
- What is the unifying principle underlying light, radio, magnetism, and electricity?
- How can I sustain a two-handed polyrhythm on the drums?
- What are the most effective ways of teaching introductory physics concepts?
- What is the smallest working machine that can be constructed?
- How can I compute the emission of light from an excited atom?
- What was the root cause of the Challenger Space Shuttle disaster?
- How could the discoveries of nuclear physics be used to promote peace instead of war?
- How can I keep doing important research with all the fame brought by the Nobel Prize?
Questions, open problems, are attention machines. Our minds are drawn to them, like a moth to light. Questions determine what we think about. A question can cost you “thousands of your days.” And if we choose good questions, I can think of no better use for our time.
A crappy question, however, can rob you of thousands of your days. For instance, for too many years, I was working on the question:
- How can I be cool?
This led me to abandon my organic interests and become a workaholic in high school. If I’m not careful, I can catch my mind re-opening this “coolness” question, even now.
Clowning has been a way for me to nip this question in the bud. Clowns are not cool. When I put on the clown nose, I focus on play and connection, and automatically give up the pursuit of coolness and conformity.
Another terrible questions, that have cost me way too many days:
- How can I pass my genes on to as many offspring as possible?
This question was put in my mind by reading The Selfish Gene, by Richard Dawkins. It put in my mind the idea of nature as a competition, and the way you “win” at the game is to have as many children as possible, like Ghenghis Khan.
Lately, I’ve supplanted this question with a much better one:
- What is a good life?
Is a guy who goes to a spermbank and fathers thousands of kids he doesn’t know leading a good life? From the Darwinian lens, he is very “fit.” But is that enough?
Father Greg Boyle fathered no kids, but acts as the father figure to thousands of folks in gangs. These gang members had sperm donors, but very often, no fathers. Father Greg fills their cup with unconditional love, and in doing so, he makes the world a better place.
As a thought experiment, compare a person who has many children, but is an absent or abusive parent and Father Greg, who has no genetic children, but is improving the lives of thousands. Who has a better life? I would say Father Greg. Who is more “fit” from an evolutionary perspective? The abusive parent.
Questions reveal our values. Better questions are based on better values, and make for better lives. When I think narrowly about winning at the game of evolution, I feel tight and on edge. When I think about having a life that contributes the world around me, I feel expansive and warm in my heart. I’d rather be Father Greg than Ghenghis Khan.
Today, in the midst of meditation, I realized that three central questions have been driving the three substack newsletters I write:
- What brings me wonder? (The wonder project)
- How can I help the environment and keep my sanity? (Environ/mental health)
- What is a good life? (The biography project)
These, I think, are good questions. I like them. In addition, during my meditation, another question came to me:
- How can I bring a sense of friendship into the relationshipships of my life?
Yesterday, I met a guy who came from a traumatic family situation. His dad was a convict and mother was an alcoholic. He told me about how when his dad died, all he left the man was a bill for the funeral.
The man left his broken family at an early age. Over many years, through hard work, he amassed a significant sum of money. He intends to give this money to his children after he dies.
“That’s amazing,” I said.
“Thanks, but it doesn’t matter what you think of me. What matters is what I think of me.”
After talking to this man for a while, it seemed to me that he was living by the questions:
- How can I leave a good legacy for my children?
- How can I live in such a way that I’m proud of myself?
About a year ago, driving in a car at night after a moonlit hike up tall rocky mountains, my friend Ethan asked me: what is your blog about? I didn’t have an answer.
It seems to me that sometimes we don’t realize the questions driving us until we’ve spent many years hard at work on them. I still don’t know what this blog is about. But I do have a little more insight into some of the questions driving me.
How do we find our questions?
There can be no definitive guide, but try following both your interest and your sense of what’s good and right, your moral compass. Both, I think, are formidable tools for discovering the questions that will create the best versions of ourselves.