isomorphismes

I’m bored of #ff meaning follow Fridays. Let’s do Failure Friday instead and talk about things we’e failed at.

• I failed an arithmetic test.
• I failed judo class.
• I failed to attract interest with my CV.
• I failed to be married or have a stable job by my 30th birthday.
• I failed an entrance exam.
• I failed most of my writing assignments.
• I lost an important contest.
• I lost a race. Badly.
• I lost a client I thought I had secured.
• I failed a client I thought I could help.
• I failed to get paid what I thought I was worth.
• I failed to be honest in a romantic relationship.
• I failed to do anything cool for a few years.
• I couldn’t walk on a mountain because I was so out of shape.
• I failed to wear sunscreen.
• I failed to read the prospectus.
• I failed to get into my preferred university.
• I failed to get someone to fall for me.
• I didn’t know what I wanted or how to get it.
• I failed to keep in touch with old friends.
• I failed to impress people.
• I failed to advocate for myself.
• I failed to do things on time.
• I lost Other People’s Money.
• I failed to come up with good ideas.
• I failed to give it my all.
• I failed to lose weight.
• I failed to meet expectations.
• I failed to look “put together”.
• I failed to stay organised.
• I failed to Get Things Done.
• I failed to cook a good dinner.
• I failed to recognise the obvious signs.
• I failed to learn what I was trying to learn.
• Things did not go according to plan.

NB: I don’t intend Failure Friday as a pity party. It just bugs me when people try to act flawless and successful. Infinitely wise with inerrant self-command. Even apparent failures are successes in disguise. Sorry stories modulate into major key as the lessons learned were invaluable rungs on the ladder of upward progress so in the end it all worked out for the best.

What is that? You’ll probably just make people who are already down feel worse by doing that. And not make anyone feel better.

This was a rhetorical question our chess teacher used to ask us. It’s a reminder that even though materiel, position, and tempo are worthwhile achievements that advance your interests, the goal is to check-mate the King.

For example the Blitzkrieg or “Scholar’s Mate” doesn’t capture materiel or obtain an advantageous position. It just goes directly for the kill.

It’s worth asking this question whether you’re just out the gate or mid-game. Is there a way within a few moves that you could mate early? Never forget to look for that in the quest for materiel or position.

I use the question now in my life as a shorthand for

• why am I doing this?

. Getting money, obeying authority, learning things, obtaining credentials (résumé builders”), maintaining a low weight—all are “good” goals which advance my interests. But why? What is it aiming towards? What am I really trying to do?

In chess the goal is well-defined, whereas in life one can choose one’s own goals. In particular they can be

• continual (“Go for walks”)
• or circular (“Raise kids, so they can raise kids, so they can raise kids, …”)
• rather than once-and-done (“Get thin”, “Mate the King”).
• (And they needn’t be zero-sum.)

I think that makes the question What is the object of the game of chess? even more important.

That’s something that helps me and I hope it helps you. I’m going to pause now for some quiet reflection.

• copy editor
• anti-trust economist
• “international development” (anti-poverty, microfinance)
• fair-trade certifier
• logistician
• bookie
• statistical data analyst
• (web) venture-capital business development / strategy
• assistant domain-specific language (DSL) programmer
• research potential new markets for industrial petroleum products
• novelist
• bank analyst
• government statistician
• (financial) trading assistant
• (oil rig) roughneck
• musician
• casino attendant
• distressed debt investor | liquidator | manage companies temporarily in receivership
• miner
• dockworker
• OTC derivative synthesiser
• computer engineer
• (oil-drilling) mud log analyst
• machine-learning quant

I cringe whenever an old person asks a young person “What do you want to do in life?” As if the answer could ever be simple. I’m sure I can’t remember everything I ever thought I might want to do but failed to. (And I’d guess it’s the same for most people.) Each of the above represents a potential alternative history now, and at the time, a superposition.