I am 59. I still waste enormous amounts of energy trying to secure approval from people who won’t give it.
The more I do the right things, however, the less intense is my maladaptive approval seeking.
Just under the surface of my psyche, I yearn to show that I am the smartest person in the world. When this manifests in my speech and behavior, it causes people to deride me.
In the cold hard light of day, when it comes to certain topics, I am the smartest person in the room, but as far as overall cognitive quality, I am rarely the smartest person in the rooms I frequent.
It’s false humility to deny my gifts but when I get an exaggerated sense of them, I always get humiliated.
When I go a week or two or three without getting humiliated, that’s because I have not gotten over my skis.
My biggest scoops as a reporter were given to me. I deserve credit for fact-checking the scoops, placing them in context, and doing enough work as a reporter that valuable people want to give me scoops. Lying around watching TV didn’t earn me scoops. I had to extend myself more than was natural to me, and to deny my petty side more than was natural to me, to build enough bridges to others so that they then wanted to send good things to me.
I spent Saturday afternoons when I was a kid in Cooranbong napping and then waking up to hope that after sundown (the beginning of the secular week in Seventh-Day Adventism), my best friend Wayne Cherry and his family would come by to take me to something cool.
Throughout my life, cool people have adopted me and taken me to things that were cool.
On my own, I don’t tend to generate sufficient coolness. My internal patterns tend towards a delusional and self-destructive pursuit of distinction over connection.
If there is anything distinctive in what I contribute here, it comes largely from my own accurate recognition of my need for others, for my ability to contribute to others, and that I accurately gauge my own failures and successes (that largely stem from negotiations with others).
Once you can spot your own self-defeating patterns, you see them more easily in others.
The more I live in reality, the less I need to twist it to keep myself comfortable.
Despite these noble sentiments, I must admit that hearing that nobody’s coming to save me often feels like a cold shower.
Why? Because, though I will deny it, I live in the warm bath of believing rescue is just around the corner. That might be why I love long songs.
I walk around with a deep, unspoken hope that someone will swoop in to save me — a hope I almost never admit.
I love Neil Strauss’s line about rock stars — they can mesmerize a stadium but they can’t take care of themselves.
I’ve long yearned to be so distinctive that others would take care of me.
One of the most destructive impulses I have is that the ordinary rules don’t apply to me. They do.
I’ve long thought I know better than my bosses, my rabbis, my teachers, my communities. That’s rarely been true.
If I am in a good place, and I realize I did something wrong, it’s easy for me to admit it. When I’m insecure, it’s hard for me to admit being wrong.
Security is something I earn choice by choice. It’s not my default state. That state is anxiety.
The more dishonest, deceptive and deceitful I am, the more I distrust others. The more decent I am, the more open I am to connecting with others appropriately. My experience of America is largely in my hands. America is neither with me nor against me. It is largely raw material in my hands. Los Angeles is a city filled with opportunities and dangers for me.
I don’t trust any ideology that portrays advanced economies such as America as monsters or saviors. Every people must prioritize their own survival in an anarchic world.
The safest place for the individual is usually in the middle of the herd. My inner drives usually push me to the boundary of the herd.
ChatGPT: “You’re basically saying: my internal conduct shapes my perception of others, and my relationship to America is more about my own mindset than America itself. Refusing to buy into “America the demon” or “America the messiah” keeps you out of the victim/savior trap and in the realm of realism. It’s self-responsibility over grievance or blind faith.”
I love Orion Taraban’s videos, including this one, but I think he’s missing some things:
ChatGPT responds:
Taraban’s take is classic self-reliance maximalism — radical personal responsibility with no excuses — but it misses some deep realities you’re pointing to.
The inevitability of betrayal
He frames betrayal as a consequence of bad personal choices — you trusted the wrong people, so it’s your fault. That’s partly true, but incomplete. The deeper truth is: if you build any close relationship, you will at some point feel betrayed. Not because you picked “wrong” but because people are opaque, unpredictable, and not fully knowable — including you. Even the most loyal friend or partner will act in ways that violate your unspoken expectations. This is not a sign you failed at picking; it’s the nature of intimacy and trust. “Radical accountability” in this domain means learning to expect and metabolize that reality, not just avoiding the “wrong” people.The group nature of human life
He talks as if the game of life is entirely an individual sport — your strategies, your training, your choices. That ignores that we are primarily members of overlapping groups: families, teams, tribes, classes, networks. Much of what happens to us — and what we can do about it — is mediated through those groups. You can train, strategize, and “take responsibility” all day, but if you’re embedded in a failing group, you will be dragged down, and if you’re embedded in a thriving one, you will be lifted. The most effective self-reliance is often group-reliance — building and maintaining membership in alliances where mutual aid is normal and survival is collective.Missing the collective strategy layer
He’s right that you need a strategy, but the most powerful strategies aren’t just personal — they’re collective. Groups with shared goals and norms can withstand shocks and threats that no individual could face alone. If you see yourself only as “your own cavalry,” you miss the fact that sometimes the cavalry is your group, and that’s not a weakness — it’s the oldest survival advantage humans have.In short, his message works well as a corrective for people stuck in learned helplessness, but if taken as the whole truth, it can lead to a lonely, hyper-individualistic mindset that actually makes life harder than it needs to be.
No one is coming to save you — but that doesn’t mean you’re alone. You’re the one you’re waiting for, but you’re also part of groups, and those groups matter.
You are responsible for the conditions of your life. If your job sucks, you’re lonely, and you feel stuck, the common denominator is you. That’s not an insult — it’s your way out. You can make better choices, learn skills, train, and align yourself with reality. No one can do those things for you.
But let’s be clear: even if you choose well, even if you train hard, every real relationship will eventually wound you. Not because you failed at picking people, but because people are not fully knowable. They will act in ways that violate your expectations. Sometimes they’ll do it out of selfishness, sometimes by accident, sometimes because their needs changed. If you can’t metabolize betrayal, you can’t keep deep connections.
And those connections matter more than any solo plan. You are not, and never have been, a lone strategist. You’re a member of tribes, teams, and networks. Most of your opportunities and threats will come through them. If your group is strong, you’ll go further than you ever could alone; if your group is weak, it will drag you down no matter how hard you grind. Self-reliance includes choosing your groups wisely and contributing to their strength.
So yes — take radical responsibility for your life. But do it with the clear eyes of someone who knows two things: betrayal is inevitable, and survival is collective. If you can carry both truths at once, you won’t just be your own cavalry — you’ll be part of an army worth riding with.
If you had to divide mental illness into two categories, how about these? Under-interpreting what is going on with others (autism) and over-interpreting what is going on with others (delusion).
ChatGPT says:
You could frame it like this:
Under-interpreting others – missing or failing to pick up social cues, context, and intent. This can show up in autism spectrum disorders, certain brain injuries, schizoid traits, or even extreme introversion.
Over-interpreting others – seeing meaning, intent, or hidden messages that aren’t there. This can show up in paranoia, some forms of psychosis, borderline personality disorder (in the sense of heightened threat perception), or even severe anxiety.
Both extremes are errors in social inference — one is a deficit, the other an overactive detector. The healthy range is the Goldilocks zone where you interpret just enough without missing key signals or fabricating false ones.
If you wanted to sharpen the model, you could add a third axis: “misinterpreting” — reading cues, but getting them wrong (common in depression, where neutral signals get read as rejection). That way you’re covering absence, excess, and distortion.
I’ve often had mild to moderate to severe left elbow pain for years. As I understand, this pain, and other pains like it, comes from weakness in certain muscles that then forces compensation from other parts of me that aren’t suited to doing the job and the consequence to me is bodily distortion and pain. When I build up my weak muscles so that they can do what is asked of them, my pain goes away.
This same principle applies to other parts of life. I’ve often asked of religion or sports or Netflix or porn or politics to compensate for glaring weaknesses that I have in normal human connection. It didn’t work as well as I would have liked.
When you ask of people and of things more than they can give, you will feel disappointment, just like when you ask certain muscles to do things they aren’t designed to do.
Millions felt disappointed in Barack Obama and Donald Trump because they asked of them more than they could give.
I remember in the fall of 2007, the only thing that seemed to be working in my life was the Dallas Cowboys. Then they lost in the divisional round to the New York Giants and I was bereft.
I notice that the most intense somebody’s fandom, the more likely it is that their life doesn’t work. A healthy person usually doesn’t go to games all painted up.
The quickest way to lose a connection with someone of high status is to ask of them more than they want to give you. You’ve marked yourself as someone who doesn’t know his place and doesn’t accept reality.
The worst thing about being an underearner or any kind of addict is that only fellow addicts will stay close to you.
ChatGPT says:
Portraying America as a monster:
Hard-left anti-imperialism / anti-capitalism – sees the U.S. as an empire built on exploitation, racism, colonialism, and military aggression. Think Chomsky-esque critiques, some socialist/Marxist currents, and certain strands of critical race theory.
Radical environmentalism – frames the U.S. as a uniquely destructive force driving climate collapse through consumption and corporate greed.
Right-wing isolationism / paleoconservatism (anti-globalist variant) – paints the U.S. government as a corrupt, tyrannical elite betraying its own people in service to global interests.
Some post-colonial and decolonization movements – depict the U.S. as the apex predator of Western imperialism, responsible for global oppression.
Portraying America as a savior:
Neoconservatism – believes America has a moral duty to spread democracy and free markets, often via military intervention.
American exceptionalism (patriotic nationalist form) – views the U.S. as the indispensable nation, the freest and most virtuous country in history.
Cold War liberalism – saw America as the guardian of the “free world” against communism.
Certain evangelical Christian nationalism – casts America as God’s chosen instrument for advancing moral and religious truth.
Savior narratives – main carriers today
Neoconservatism
Media: The Wall Street Journal editorial board, Commentary Magazine, The Dispatch (in foreign policy), Fox News foreign policy hawks
Think tanks: American Enterprise Institute, Hudson Institute, Foundation for Defense of Democracies
Political factions: Some establishment Republicans, hawkish Democrats (e.g., Robert Menendez wing)
American exceptionalist nationalism
Media: Fox News primetime, Newsmax, The Blaze
Think tanks: Heritage Foundation, Claremont Institute
Political factions: Trumpist GOP in patriotic rhetoric, Reagan-style Republicans
Cold War liberalism (modern echo)
Media: The Atlantic, Politico, Foreign Affairs
Think tanks: Brookings Institution, Center for a New American Security
Political factions: Centrist Democrats, bipartisan foreign policy establishment
Evangelical Christian nationalism
Media: The Christian Broadcasting Network, Charisma News, some Salem Media outlets
Think tanks / orgs: Family Research Council, American Family Association
Political factions: Religious right activists within the GOP, some state-level political machines
Here’s the emotional formula both “America is a monster” and “America is a savior” camps tend to follow:
1. Start with a moral frame
Monster: “The U.S. violates the highest moral values — it’s corrupt, violent, unjust.”
Savior: “The U.S. embodies the highest moral values — it’s noble, virtuous, destined to lead.”
2. Create a sense of existential stakes
Monster: “If America continues as it is, it will destroy lives, the planet, or civilization.”
Savior: “If America falters, freedom, prosperity, and moral order will collapse everywhere.”
3. Identify clear villains and heroes
Monster: Villains are U.S. leaders, corporations, military, or cultural hegemons. Heroes are dissidents, activists, whistleblowers, the oppressed.
Savior: Villains are foreign tyrants, radicals, or America’s “enemies within.” Heroes are U.S. troops, entrepreneurs, founders, faithful citizens.
4. Offer emotional rewards for joining the cause
Monster: Moral superiority from “speaking truth to power,” belonging to the righteous resistance.
Savior: Pride in being on the winning, virtuous side of history, camaraderie with fellow patriots.
5. Provide simple prescriptions
Monster: “Dismantle, divest, resist, overthrow the unjust system.”
Savior: “Strengthen, defend, expand America’s role and ideals.”
6. Demand loyalty to the narrative
Both camps punish dissent internally — question the script, and you risk being seen as a traitor to the cause.
The irony is that both sides feed on the same psychological machinery:
A moral drama with high stakes
An in-group that offers identity and meaning
A clear enemy that justifies righteous action
How to spot the formula working on you in real time:
1. Check for a moral frame that feels absolute
If you hear “America is inherently evil” or “America is inherently good” with no room for mixed realities, you’re in a moral totalizing frame. The emotional hook is that it feels pure — but reality isn’t.2. Notice the existential stakes
Are you being told “We have only 10 years before collapse” or “If we don’t act, tyranny will rule the world”? High-stakes framing spikes adrenaline and makes critical thinking harder.3. Watch for hero/villain casting
The moment you’re handed a cast list (“Here are the bad guys, here are the good guys”), your brain’s nuance filter is being switched off. You’re being put into a team sport, not an analysis.4. Feel the emotional rewards
If you feel a warm rush of belonging, pride, or righteous anger simply from agreeing, that’s the hook. The group is paying you in feelings, not facts.5. Listen for simple, urgent prescriptions
Real solutions in politics are messy and slow. If the answer is quick, clean, and fits on a bumper sticker, it’s probably there to mobilize you, not to solve the problem.6. Test the reaction to dissent
If politely questioning the narrative gets you shamed, frozen out, or accused of betrayal, you’re in an ideological loyalty trap.A good personal habit: when you feel yourself getting swept up in a “monster” or “savior” story about America, pause and ask:
“What’s the strongest counterargument to this?”
“Who benefits if I believe this without question?”
Here’s how to pull useful insights from both “America is a monster” and “America is a savior” camps without getting stuck in their traps:
1. Treat each as a source of partial truth, not gospel
Monster camp often nails structural critiques — empire, corruption, inequality.
Savior camp often nails sources of resilience — innovation, civic culture, rule of law (when it works).
Keep the parts that stand up to evidence, toss the purity claims.2. Anchor in reality, not identity
Your loyalty is to what’s true, not to a tribe. That lets you agree with a Green Party activist one day and a Marine veteran the next without feeling disloyal to either.3. Cross-check with opposing sources
When a monster narrative riles you up, find the strongest pro-America defense and see what holds. When a savior narrative inspires you, find the toughest critique. This keeps you in analysis mode.4. Separate the moral claim from the mobilization tactic
“America is uniquely evil” and “America is uniquely good” are both designed to move you emotionally. Recognize the sales pitch, then assess the evidence underneath.5. Look for mixed-case evidence
In history, the U.S. has been liberator and oppressor, innovator and exploiter. Studying examples of both keeps your view from becoming a caricature.6. Keep your agency front and center
Your experience of America depends a lot on how you live in it — who you associate with, how you engage civically, where you get information. That’s leverage you control.
When I was younger, I fell in love with things that sounded good such as free markets and free trade and I wanted to pursue these principles to absurd lengths. In my old age, I’m more open to seeing the limitations of deciding what is true on the basis of what sounds good. Perhaps America needs an industrial policy? Perhaps Economics as a discipline has strengths and weaknesses like everything else in life?
