The Antidoters Mission: ‘Spray Optimism. Stoke Curiosity’:

Welcome. What's going on here then..?

Welcome to Antidoters.  Mission as above (with more at ‘about’)

Firstly - a huge thank you to the handful of subscribers who miraculously signed up to an empty substack page with nothing but a title. You evidently already live by the second part of the mission.  

Secondly - this is a very quick introductory holding post to kick things off - for your context - but also for the benefit of the few hundred people who are about to be migrated here from a pretty dormant personal blog account they signed up to years ago so they won’t be too confused.  I’ve moved house.

The post I migrated them with, as below:  

Recently I came across a fantastic graph that seems to explain why I and many of my contemporaries might have been feeling the weight of a decaying world on our shoulders.  Yes, I’m probably in the wrong echo chambers (I fight a daily battle to confound the algorithms), but I’m also at the very bottom of this smile by age and life-stage, so… it’s not me, it’s science. 

As one of my favourite X-commentators, Gurwinder writes (who shared this chart)

‘The optimism of youth becomes cynicism as responsibilities mount & dreams collide with reality’.  

Over the last few years, shit got real.  Three under 10s, a mortgage + c.40 standing orders a month, a tech scale-up exec team role, a controversy-mired government board role, 4 laundry loads a day, crumbs in my keyboard, a family g-calendar that looks like a tetris game and a bedside table piled with smart-thinkers that I can only manage a page of each night.  

Thankfully - Gurwinder goes on to note,

‘But after midlife, happiness rises again as people accept reality and learn to enjoy the small things’. 

And I can genuinely feel myself moving in that upward direction after the sleep deprivation of the last decade.  

I’m coming out of auto-pilot and these days, I find I more frequently enjoy feeling present and appreciate the small things:  the little hand that slips unconsciously into mine walking down the high street; a beautiful lyric or musical performance; an amused eye-roll shared with a stranger on the train; the frost in the fields on a sunny, wintery morning.  I increasingly see nuance and recognise that most people - even those I disagree ardently with - generally act with the best of intentions, just from different perspectives and life experiences.  Cue less irritation, more curiosity and greater comfort with uncertainty. 

I’ve mused previously in irregular blog-flurries on why optimism and curiosity seem in decline population-wide and not just for those at the bottom of the smile.  Poor mental health rates are now soaring amongst the young.  I penned a trilogy of posts in ‘21 around my ‘Antidoters’ theme (here) but I’ve struggled with how I might apply myself professionally to any possible solutions.

‘Spray optimism; stoke curiosity’ is the current answer.  Whilst it’s not the most elegant or actionable of career goals I’ve ever set for myself, it’s an interesting journey I’m keen to go on and one that also enables me to explore the related problem I care deeply about - how tech and the attention economy fuel polarisation, rewarding outrage and simplistic good-evil narratives despite our complicated, nuanced world.  When we lose optimism and allow ourselves to be polarised, cynicism and nihilism are far worse byproducts than mere pessimism.  They stifle imagination, our will to collaborate across divides and perhaps most worryingly, suppress our humanity. 

It’s easy to point at something and angrily condemn it to signal our progressive credentials.  Or to embrace a quick hack or two from smart entrepreneurs who capitalise on the zeitgeist:  a gratitude journal, a supplement pill, a get-rich-quick scheme or mindfulness app.  I should stress, these are all very valid contributions that evidently help a huge number of people - (created by many of the most impressive, creative optimists within my network) - so long as they are not perceived as the solution in and of themselves.

They can’t generate the sort of oxytocin that genuine altruism and optimism can instil - telling someone, unprompted, how awesome you think they are;  recommending the talents of a struggling ex-colleague to your network; popping round to make a cup of tea for a lonely OAP neighbour or volunteering an hour somewhere to mix with people from different backgrounds or demographics.  On my birthday last year, a colleague rang for no other purpose than to tell me how much they enjoyed working with me and I literally bounced into my next catch up with friends, inspired to tell them all how much I appreciated them. The ripple effects of the smallest thoughtful act stretch far beyond a social media post.  They’re infectious.  

‘Antidoters’ is a bastardised term I (may or may not) have come up with for people I follow, read or watch who I think personify optimism and this attitude.  Those who are the opposite of doomsayers:  positive inspirers; curious thinkers-out-loud who don’t self-censor; people who trigger curiosity or surprise and challenge perceptions.  They are ideas-catalysts for positive change.  

I’d love to invite you to meet some of these Antidoters.  As such, I’m moving my blog to a new one under this title (edit: *this one*) if you’d be so kind as to stick with me on the .csv upload of your email addresses to it.  The reason for this is that every bone in my body wants to resist the ‘cult of personal brand’ despite all the gurus telling me that’s what I should do.  I’m not the storyteller or brand.  I’ve learnt throughout my career that I’m an aggregator, a dot-connector and an amplifier of smarter people.   I’d love this umbrella-term blog (and its various iterations - whether audio, video, or social) to potentially welcome in other Antidoter voices should it gain any momentum.  Of course, feel free to unsubscribe, but please know I’ll file you under ‘enjoys misery’. 

A very happy, optimistic and curious new year to you all.  

Antidoters assemble! 

Jess

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