The Virtue of Less Inputs
The Virtue of Less Inputs
Consuming too much content squashes the soul
“Do not seek so anxiously to be developed, to subject yourself to many influences to be played on; it is all dissipation.” — Henry David Thoreau
One message has changed my life most this year: less inputs.
For the past four years, my brain was flooded with content. Nine newsletters on tap with my morning espresso. A podcast playing whenever I drove my Jeep. A YouTube lecture loading next to my roast chicken dinner. I was so busy stuffing my eyes and ears that I forgot what my own opinion was.
But the past three months have been different. I’ve only touched one podcast. I deleted Instagram and YouTube on my phone. I don’t wear AirPods on walks or at the gym anymore. I still read books, yes. But when my eyes need to be somewhere else, like for chopping broccoli, I fill my ears with some sweet silence. It’s nice to catch up on missed thoughts.
Content is the infiltration of consciousness. When you consume content, you submit your mind to someone else. You sign a subconscious contract with terms and conditions that say, “I give you permission to reshape my inner and outer life.” It’s an act of voluntary slavery.
I know that the Internet can change lives. I wouldn’t have made it out to Austin or found many of my friends without it. But still, I’m worried. There’s an enormous number of people who think they’re “learning” online but don’t realize that they’re numbing themselves. I know this because I used to be one.
Clash of Content
“If you serve too many masters, you’ll soon suffer.” — Homer1
There’s an anxious amount of advice out there. The paradox of free coaching from 25 people is that their ideas clash. Alex Hormozi’s biceps say one thing. Jordan Peterson’s suit says another. Some agree. Most disagree. As Naval Ravikant once observed, “If you survey enough people, all of the advice will cancel to zero.”
By writing this, I’m not saying that you should read my stuff and trash everyone else’s. Nah. My only hope is that you’re aware that all content will change you. Even a 6-second TikTok of boobies bouncing up and down. Even your Spotify playlist. Even this essay.
In his 1891 novel The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde wrote:
“Because to influence a person is to give him one’s own soul. He does not think his natural thoughts, or burn with his natural passions. His virtues are not real to him. His sins, if there are such things as sins, are borrowed. He becomes an echo of some one else’s music, an actor of a part that has not been written for him. The aim of life is self-development. To realize one’s nature perfectly—that is what each of us is here for. People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. They have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owes to one’s self. Of course they are charitable. They feed the hungry, and clothe the beggar. But their own souls starve, and are naked. Courage has gone out of our race.”
Too many inputs not only squashes your intuition, but it makes you so numb that you forget you even have an opinion. The scary thing is that this soul-sucking is invisible. I’m still working on reversing it.
The coolest part of reading is that I get to grab my life by the balls and hand it over to the writer. But even with Homer and Huxley, I’m starting to wonder: where do I disagree? In a world bulging with Birkenstocks and Bass Pro hats, where could the herd be holding me back?
Remember: there’s nothing you must consume. As a rule of thumb, it’s probably wise to veer on the side of less inputs. Less is more, yes, but in a world where more is normal, less is barely enough for sanity.2
All content is the extension of someone’s soul. Next time you go on a walk outside, I challenge you to step into your own soul and take in nothing but the rich soundscape of reality. If you’re never gonna know everything, why even try to learn it all?
Links to This Essay
Notes
In this context, “serve” means to listen to. It’s from Book 21 of the Odyssey. The whole gang is at Penelope’s house. Telemachus, son of Odysseus, is talking to the swineherd Eumaeus. After her suitors fail to string Odysseus’ bow, Eumaeus starts walking the bow over to the beggar—Odysseus in disguise. The suitors all heckle him. Then Telemachus tells him this advice.
How much less? The exact number isn’t as relevant as consciousness, but probably less than what most people are doing. Imagine you invite one of your friends to live in your living room. He’s a chatterbox and only stops speaking when he sleeps. If media is the extension of man, how exhausting would it be to always have this psychopath living in your living room and never shutting up! Yet this is how most people live—never truly alone. It’s too much like Fahrenheit 451 to not pay attention to this.
Thanks to Danny Miranda and Cameron Hogan for inspiring this essay.
Great one! Thanks for that. Makes me think also about what Cal Newport would call 'The Deep Life'.
This piece resonates with me. I tend to just surrender myself to my external environment when on long walks around my neighborhood. Just soaking it all in, feels so good...