Examining @rseholes & Embracing Ignorance

Fangirling on Tim Minchin

Tim Minchin has long been a hero of mine.  Never more so than when I heard him utter the words: ‘Opinions are like arseholes in that everyone has one. There is great wisdom in this, but I would add that opinions differ significantly from arseholes, in that yours should be constantly and thoroughly examined’.  My kind of philosophy.  

Source

Minchin is a true polymath: comedian, social commentator, talented musician and composer (indeed his genius Matilda score has been ringing out around our house for the last few months given my daughter’s role in her school production).  I saw him in London some years back and it was one of the most wonderful, if discombobulating evenings - part gig, part comedy, part philosophy - hilarious, tear-jerking, uncomfortable and mind-expanding in turn. 

His ten-minute long ‘9 Life Lessons’ commencement speech at the University of Western Australia is one of my favourite speeches, providing beautiful, humorous articulation to so many of my own life philosophies.  e.g.

On meaning: 

Arts degrees are awesome. And they help you find meaning where there is none. And let me assure you, there is none. Don’t go looking for it. Searching for meaning is like searching for a rhyme scheme in a cookbook: you won’t find it and you’ll bugger up your soufflé.

On happiness: 

Happiness is like an orgasm: if you think about it too much, it goes away. Keep busy and aim to make someone else happy, and you might find you get some as a side effect. We didn’t evolve to be constantly content. Contented Homo Erectus got eaten before passing on their genes.

On exercise: 

I’m sorry, you pasty, pale, smoking philosophy grads, arching your eyebrows into a Cartesian curve as you watch the Human Movement mob winding their way through the miniature traffic cones of their existence: you are wrong and they are right. Well, you’re half right – you think, therefore you are… but also: you jog, therefore you sleep well, therefore you’re not overwhelmed by existential angst. You can’t be Kant, and you don’t want to be

On nuance: 

Most of society’s arguments are kept alive by a failure to acknowledge nuance. We tend to generate false dichotomies, then try to argue one point using two entirely different sets of assumptions, like two tennis players trying to win a match by hitting beautifully executed shots from either end of separate tennis courts.

I see it all the time online, people whose idea of being part of a subculture is to hate Coldplay or football or feminists or the Liberal Party. We have a tendency to define ourselves in opposition to stuff; as a comedian, I make a living out of it. But try to also express your passion for things you love. Be demonstrative and generous in your praise of those you admire. Send thank-you cards and give standing ovations. Be pro-stuff, not just anti-stuff.

Just watch it as the joy is as much in the delivery as it is the words - especially when he winces apologetically at the university Chancellor on uttering the arsehole line.  You’re welcome (incidentally, that’s why i haven’t done an audio version of this post. It will never do his quotes justice). 

This week, I stumbled across another gem from him that resonated given the current news cycle and the digital over-exposure rabbit hole I’ve been tumbling down in recent years.  He recently commented: 

‘I don’t think it’s a moral good to know about the suffering of everyone in the world...  beyond what you’re going to be able to act on and positively impact.   All the world’s grief is coming through this little thing that we can’t even put away from our beds for God’s sake… we’re lying in bed and we’re reading the distress of someone here and someone there and getting fed an agitating story.  And that makes you a worse mother. And a worse partner.  And a worse friend. And a worse member of your community…  

We need to curate our circle of concern…. The news is not the world.  It’s an algorithm and a bunch of people trying to get you agitated.  If all the news that distresses me… makes me less effective, less kind, less able to smile in the morning and help my kids who have problems… surely it’s an ethical evil to let your capacity to help.. be damaged by being distressed all the time by everyone’s pain… you can’t possibly shoulder everyone else’s pain.  

Ignorance is, as they say,  bliss, once forced upon us by lack of access to information, but could it now be a conscious, mental-health choice?  Might no (or at least ‘less’) information be better for all of us than mis/ disinformation or one-sided information by firehose?   Cue confused internal monologue:  Who would seriously advocate for ignorance?  Surely being informed is always better than being ignorant… people-power is democracy…  we can effect change by what we advocate for…  we, the people, do have influence.   

But do we?  Is public opinion the tail that wags the policy dog?  And if so, who or what is influencing public opinion? And with what motivation? The head spins = must consume more = more depressed about the state of the world.  More, more, more. 

Minchin is saying that we need to put our own life vests on before we can give attention, love or support to those around us, let alone wider society.  Closer family and friendship units build closer connections within more cohesive communities which have the power to impact society a lot more positively and profoundly than an angry, divided population shouting despondently at the powers that be.  A 24-7 panic-inducing diet of doom, outrage and commentary can only lead to the latter.   

I have a close friend who doesn’t have a single social media account and she is the most centred, optimistic person I know.  She chooses books over scrolling, curious conversations over debate and phone calls over texts. She frequently makes spontaneous phone calls for hour-long catch-ups with friends and is considered a ‘best friend’ to over 10 (for whom she’s bridesmaided).  Whilst I might have been guilty in the past of believing she’s become ignorant of the extent to which tech and social media now impacts cultural narratives, politics and world affairs, I’m increasingly now questioning whether the luddite who chooses not to sail the content sea of chaos is the fool here.  Maybe they’re the sages who retain their peace and sanity. (Bit of a stretch possibly for a mum of 3 under 7s). 

For my own part, this summer, I’ve once again rediscovered fiction and ploughed through eight gorgeous and/or gripping novels in four weeks.  Desperate to return and find out what happens within these imaginary worlds, I’ve been checking in less regularly on the news or my social feeds and experiencing more of my friend’s way of living.  And yes, whilst definitely less well-informed, I’ve felt lighter and started processing my thoughts more deeply.  I’m more present, more relaxed and am sleeping more deeply.  I’ve tuned into the lives around me more deeply.  Lesson learnt.

Countless products are now marketed at us to hack this feeling, using buzzy, therapeutic terms like ‘finding flow’ or ‘digital detox’ via meditation, yoga and more.  Even a walk to the local park has been rebranded a ‘mindfulness’ time-box within the uber-productive day.  I suspect that reading novels will soon be promoted as a digital detox strategy.  Certainly I’ve found it an effective one and if we need a shiny new label for a psychological nudge… all power to it.  Less ‘Blinkist’ please (an app that summarises books in 5 mins), more ‘War & Peace’. 

A final Mighty Minchin note of caution:  If you open your mind too much, your brains will fall out. 

(And if my husband’s made it this far,  please add his new book out in September to my birthday list).