Is Kafka’s “Metamorphosis” about burnout?

Like a lot of people, I read Kafka’s “The Metamorphosis” in high school. The book has one of the most memorable first sentences in literature:

AS GREGOR SAMSA awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.

The reader is pulled through the rest of the story because Samsa and all the other characters react so strangely to this transformation. In our world, the appearance of a giant insect in a bedroom would more likely be treated as an invasion from the outside (perhaps the bug ate poor Samsa) than a metamorphosis. Instead, they treat it like an illness, and for much of the tale, the protagonist and his family seem to expect him to recover soon.

One can be temporarily incapacitated, but that’s just the moment for remembering former services and bearing in mind that later on, when the incapacity has been got over, one will certainly work with all the more industry and concentration.

There is also the lingering question of whether Samsa is insane and only believes he’s an insect or literally has become a bug. Clearly, the metamorphosis is a metaphor for alienation and/or mental illness, and at that level, it doesn’t really matter whether it is “real” or not—in fact, the story intrigues us by leaving this question open. It can be read either way: Samsa is a bug, or Samsa is crazy and thinks he’s a bug.

On this second read, as an adult, what I found interesting was, “Why did Samsa turn into a bug?”

Kafka gives us a clue on the very first page:

Oh God, he thought, what an exhausting job I’ve picked

And:

Well, there’s still hope; once I’ve saved enough money to pay back my parents’ debts to him—that should take another five or six years—I’ll do it without fail. I’ll cut myself completely loose then. For the moment, though, I’d better get up, since my train goes at five.

At this point, Samsa realizes his alarm clock did not wake him, and he’s going to be late for work. He struggles to get his insect body out of bed, all while thinking about how he needs to get to the office before they send someone for him.

Were all employees in a body nothing but scoundrels, was there not among them one single loyal devoted man who, had he wasted only an hour or so of the firm’s time in a morning, was so tormented by conscience as to be driven out of his mind and actually incapable of leaving his bed?

Personally, if I had been turned into a bug, these aren’t the first things I’d be worried about. But notice, too, the hint Kafka leaves–the suggestion that the metamorphosis is mental, and explicable. Of course, his worries come about: the chief clerk shows up looking for him, and he and the family discover what has happened to Samsa.

The middle part of the story is about how his family takes care of him in his new incapacitated condition. Samsa learns to crawl around his room, including on the ceiling, which seems to be a metaphor for being free from the worries of work. But he still comes back repeatedly to his responsibility to his family and how only he can save them:

Now his father was still hale enough but an old man, and he had done no work for the past five years and could not be expected to do much; during these five years, the first years of leisure in his laborious though unsuccessful life, he had grown rather fat and become sluggish. And Gregor’s old mother, how was she to earn a living with her asthma, which troubled her even when she walked through the flat and kept her lying on a sofa every other day panting for breath beside an open window? And was his sister to earn her bread, she who was still a child of seventeen and whose life hitherto had been so pleasant, consisting as it did in dressing herself nicely, sleeping long, helping in the housekeeping, going out to a few modest entertainments, and above all playing the violin?

Finally, Samsa declines and dies. The story ends with some surprising revelations: the family is relieved and optimistic about the future. Anyone who has dealt with a loved one’s long illness can understand that feeling, but it goes further than that. We find out that after all of Samsa’s worries, the family is just fine:

Leaning comfortably back in their seats they canvassed their prospects for the future, and it appeared on closer inspection that these were not at all bad, for the jobs they had got, which so far they had never really discussed with each other, were all three admirable and likely to lead to better things later on. The greatest immediate improvement in their condition would of course arise from moving to another house; they wanted to take a smaller and cheaper but also better situated and more easily run apartment than the one they had, which Gregor had selected.

Clearly, “The Metamorphosis” fascinates readers because the main character turned into a bug, not because it’s about not wanting to go to work in the morning. But I think it’s clear that Kafka was writing about not just alienation from life and family but specifically about the pressures of work. The Samsa character has had a psychotic break brought on by that stress, and it turns out a lot of that stress was self-inflicted: his family was not as reliant on him as he believed.

Worth thinking about.

All quotes are taken from The Schocken Kafka Library edition of “Franz Kafka: The Complete Stories”

Postscript on Mornings

Kafka himself had a series of office jobs that he did not like. He complained in his letters that work kept him from his writing and other activities (he was also ill with Tuberculosis that eventually killed him at age 40). “The Trial” also starts with the main character waking up in bed and worried about work, as does “The Judgement” and Dostoyevsky’s “The Double” which Kafka apparently admired. Kafka clearly didn’t like getting up in the morning, and it’s interesting how this feeling resonates with readers.

The story of my mid-career gap year

TL;DR

In 2010, I took 12 months off from my job at Microsoft

It had no discernible effect on my career; arguably I was refreshed and did better afterward

In that year, I learned a lot about myself: what I wanted to do, and who I was compared to the 19-year-old I was when I started working full-time

I also had a lot of great adventures and stories for a lifetime

Highly recommended to find the time to do something similar

Background

I started working full-time in tech when I was 19. I did three unsuccessful startups, and at age 30 realized I had barely taken a vacation in all those years. I loved to travel, but I hated re-integrating into work so much that I skipped vacations. I loved the challenge of working but put a lot of pressure on myself and had a lot of symptoms of stress, including panic attacks, severe gastro distress, and years of depression where I was either working or sleeping.

After I met my wife, we started traveling more and I was away from the office for longer spells. We did a 3-week honeymoon and another trip last a full month. I found that every week I was away from the office, the way I thought changed. I read more. Slept better. Started writing and thinking about things I hadn’t thought about since college. When I went back to work, I quickly flipped back to “work brain”. I was curious what a longer break would mean.  

The 40 plus-or-minus 2 plan

At age 30, I thought I needed to do something different. But I couldn’t afford to take time off and given my skill-set and the payscale in tech, changing careers didn’t make much sense either. I decided that 30 was too young (your situation may be very different), but I also wanted to make sure I didn’t just drift through a career on inertia. I made a vow to myself that at 40, I would make a big change or radical move. Then, not wanting to put too much pressure on an abrupt deadline, I amended it to “+/- 2 years”. The ”40+-2 plan” became something I thought about and discussed with my wife regularly.

As that deadline approached, we decided that travel was our top priority, and so we decided to take a gap year and travel around the world. The target year became 2008, when I would be 42, thus just sliding in under the +/- 2 benchmark. As you may recall, 2008 turned out to be the year of the subprime mortgage crisis, and over 50% of our savings disappeared. As the market rebounded, we started looking at 2009.

This seemed like a big decision at the time. I got a big promotion in 2007 and had interesting projects. On the other hand, my big project was a political hairball and it seemed more and more likely it would get cancelled and/or the team broken up. Given the chance, I thought being away during that drama wouldn’t hurt.

We also both had aging parents who were starting to show signs they would need more care and help from us. We became worried that if we didn’t get away soon, we wouldn’t be able to for many years.

Final preparations

The Microsoft review system runs on an annual cadence. When you add it all up, there is a lot of incentive to stay until September to get bonus and other rewards. I calculated that if I left in the middle of this cadence, it would hurt my bonus for 2 years instead of 1, so I targeted September for starting leave: also a good time to start travel. As I will explain, this concern about aligning my time off with bonus season proved to be unfounded.

As 2009 approached, I realized I was also close to qualifying for a sabbatical. At Microsoft this is a 2-month paid leave for folks with a good track record (review scores), seniority (level), and VP approval. My plan did not require the sabbatical, but getting paid for 2 months of it didn’t hurt. I also considered just taking the sabbatical, but a friend who had done so told me two months is too short. I decided on 12 months, which would require taking 10 months unpaid leave on top of the 2 months sabbatical.

Getting permission

This was important enough to us that I decided that if the company was not supportive, I would just quit. Even coming out of the financial crisis, it seemed likely given the industry that I could find another good-paying job if necessary.

Fortunately, my immediate manager was completely supportive. I was not surprised: I’d known and worked for him (and we remain friends) and I was pretty sure he would support and like the idea. However, when I told him, he said I had to ask his boss, who was a particularly hard-working Vice President. I knew and liked this person too but was a little nervous because of his intense approach to the job.

I set up a 1-1 to deliver the news. Some readers will know or guess this person’s identity. Typically, he was walking back and forth as we talked. We covered some work topics briefly and then I told him my plans: “I want to take a year off and travel”.

The VP stopped dead in his tracks and stared at his feet. I was a little startled. The body language was ambiguous and I wasn’t sure what his next reaction would be. He looked up and said, “I think that is a great idea. I think you should do it.” And then “Are you going to go to Africa?”. We spent several minutes talking about itinerary and he lobbied hard for Africa. He approved my time off, including the paid sabbatical.

The VP then asked me if I could stay until December instead of September to help meet a planning deadline. As I said above, our project was on the cusp: it was either going to become a company priority or be de-prioritized completely. This blew my plan of avoiding two years of bonus disruption, but I immediately said “Yes” since both my managers were otherwise so supportive.

Final days at work

My wife and I decided since we couldn’t leave in September to target February. This gave us time with family during the holidays and some leeway on preparations. I continued working on the planning process at work. Late in the year, the main project suddenly got tentative approval as a company priority. I called my wife and said “We might be staying another year”, which made both of us a little queasy, but the opportunity really seemed ideal (and potentially lucrative) for me. A few weeks later, the company changed its mind and my project was back-burnered. That made leaving easy.

The gap year

My last meeting at Microsoft was on a Friday. On Tuesday the next week, we got on a plane for New York, then went on to Lisbon and were in Europe for almost six months. The same friend who had told me two months sabbatical was too short advised “make a clean break…its too easy to waste your time at home”.

We also visited Australia (6 weeks), the Galapagos (10 days), and Africa during the gap year. Africa, inspired by my Vice President’s question, turned out to be the highlight of the year (if you can take a Safari, do it).

I have memories for a lifetime: I walked in the snow by Dali’s home; visited the Sistine Chapel, Tiberius’s house on Capri, and Pompei; I saw marine Iguanas and watched an Albatross dance; I saw Lions hunting and dung beetles rolling their homes; our land rover was charged by an angry bull elephant; and saw elephants swim across the Zambezi at sunset. We took my mother to Paris for her 82nd birthday, her dream trip, and one she still talks about.

I read a ton of books. I lost weight and got used to walking many miles every day.

What I learned about myself

It took about six months for “work brain” to fade and me to settle into a new rhythm of thought and life. I read 4-6 hours a day, more deep stuff (non-fiction and literary fiction), and thought more about what I read and what I wanted to do with myself. Time itself moves differently when you are working versus not working. I lost track of the hour and day.

For the first few months, I completely avoided thinking about computers, which had been both my vocation and my favorite hobby since I was 15. At about nine months, I found my passion for computers came back and I wrote several programs for fun, as well as teaching myself a new programming language.

While I had put off the gap year idea fearing that I would never want to go back to work, after nine months I was ready. I was enjoying myself and could have kept going. But I was also refreshed and looking forward to the people at work and the work itself.

Returning

When I came back, it seemed to me I had been gone a long time. The people I worked with were surprised at how quickly I was back. Many of them seemed shocked “Really? It’s been a year?”. Time moves differently for working and non-working people on an annual basis too.

To my disappointment, I had avoided none of the drama. The political status of my projects was just where I left them. Ironically, the big re-org and re-prioritization I was expecting finally occurred about six weeks after I got back to work.

I got a bonus for the year I mostly didn’t work. I still find that a little surprising, so let me say it again: “I got a bonus for the year I mostly didn’t work”.  It was prorated for the time I missed, but my “performance rating” did not suffer. I had good supportive management who watched out for me. I cannot guarantee this same thing will happen to you, but I have talked with others at Microsoft and elsewhere that had the same experience. Which is simply to say that fear is overblown.

Also overblown was my concern about career momentum. Yes, I took a year off. Out of 30+ years, one doesn’t matter that much. The busy working people don’t miss you as much as you think they will. On the other hand, I was refreshed and had a lot of new ideas. I finished one ongoing project and moved on to Azure, which turned out to be the best job of my life.

In the years after we got back, both sets of parents started to have serious health issues. Even one year later, we might not have been able to take the trip we did.

My wife and I after that year regularly discussed what we would do “next time”. It helped us plan for what we would do in retirement. I worked eleven more years before retiring (a retirement that could always turn out to be an extended gap year). I think the transition has been easier because of that gap year experience. I talk to others who are thinking about retiring regularly, and often hear “I don’t know what I would do with myself”. I knew.

Conclusions and advice

Being able to take a gap year is a privilege. If you are in mid-career in Big Tech or anywhere in the tech field, you probably have that privilege: tech salaries being what they are, you can lose a year of income and still make far more than average over the course of your career. You’ll be able to afford to retire, probably quite comfortably.

Overall, the effect on your career is likely to be far less than you might think. People take a year off and more all the time for all sorts of reasons.

Whether it is travel or something else that you love, it can be hard to find the time while you’re working. Taking a gap year can allow to scratch that itch and find out if it’s really what you dream about.

If you are thinking about taking such time off, consider why you’re delaying. Consider whether you’ll have the chance again. In our case, it would have been very difficult even a year later.

It is useful to know how you think, and how you live, without work. It causes you to reflect on things you do while working. And eventually, most of us hope to retire—a gap year is a great audition.

Tiny tip: sending status reports to yourself

From my own experience and talking to many of my peers, as you get more senior your weekly work output gets harder and harder to evaluate. Often senior people have more long-term goals, sometimes multi-year goals. You have weeks where you accomplish major milestones and other weeks where it seems like you do nothing but sit in meetings and delete e-mail.

I may be particularly bad, as I tend to forget things I’ve accomplished once they’re done. I rarely could remember how I fixed a bug a week after it was fixed. My last few managers regularly had to remind me of things I forgot to tell them I had done (not always good come annual review).

One Friday, as I reflected on the end of a week, I decided to write down everything I had done since Monday. To my surprise, the list was much larger than I remembered casually.

I realized I had written a status report to myself. As a manager, I liked weekly written status reports because I could quickly tell what people were doing. I found it the easiest (laziest) way to keep track of my team. But as a team member, I often hated writing up weekly status, especially in down weeks. Those weeks I struggled with what to write, and with imposter syndrome.

Self-status reports have all the advantages and none of the disadvantages of team status. They can be written quickly and informally, since only you must understand them. It is easy to be frank about your failures because you’re not sharing them. When work starts up again, the self-status report allowed me to quickly get up to speed on the new week: setting priorities and orienting myself. I also could sometimes see where my previous priorities were wrong…where I was spending too much time in meetings, or too much time on a task that wasn’t that important. But the most powerful thing was how it made me feel. There was rarely a week that I wasn’t surprised at how much I had accomplished, how much more progress I had made on my long-term projects than I remembered.

Finally, the self-status report is an invaluable tool come review season. I kept a private e-mail folder full of them, and they were a great reference for writing up my work at the end of the year.

Ps – Quick note on status reports. Under Wernher von Braun, NASA engineering had a variation of status reports called “Monday Notes”. That is worth another blog post, but it’s already been written by someone else: Monday Notes.

The best advice I ever got

Over the years, I’ve had some advice that stuck with me for long periods of time. Most of it I’ve been able to pass on. So here are those pieces of advice, in the general order where I received them:

Worry about it in the morning

I got this from my mom when I was under 10. I was lying awake worrying (I have no idea about what). She said, “Don’t worry about it now, you’re tired. Worry about it in the morning”. The standard advice, especially for trivial items, is “Don’t worry.” But that doesn’t work. You are worried about an issue. How can you stop worrying about it when it is still unresolved. However, postponing worry is easier to do: you will resolve the issue, but first, you’re going to wait, learn, rest, whatever this other thing is that will help you resolve it. Waiting until morning (sleep on it) is particularly good advice, based on how the brain works. Your pre-frontal cortex is where emotional control and rationality are centered, and it is one of the most expensive parts of the brain to operate. Thus, when tired, sick, or hungry, our body tries to shut down the PFC in favor of parts of the brain in charge of essential functions like respiration. This also explains why hungry children (or adults) throw tantrums, why it’s a bad idea to get into an argument with your spouse at bedtime or send the angry late-night e-mail. So, by waiting until morning, when the pre-frontal cortex is functioning better again, you increase the chances of resolving your worry…or it just goes away because it wasn’t rational in the first place.

Logic isn’t enough

At about the same young age, I loved Star Trek and admired Mr. Spock. I told my father I wanted to live by logic. He replied, “Logic isn’t enough. Logic doesn’t tell you what you want to do. If we were logical, we wouldn’t own cats.” We had several cats at the time, and he knew I loved them.

There are many books about how we don’t think rationally and often use logic and reason to justify our decisions after the fact. I find it’s useful always to question whether I’m being logical when I make a decision or just explaining what I want to do. But dad’s comment about the cats points out that even doing something illogical may still be a good idea.

Stay in school; you’ll be working a long time

My brother is 16 years older than me and gave me this advice when I decided whether to go to graduate school or get a job. He pointed out that the additional degree would only take 2-4 years, which, once I was working, wouldn’t seem like a long time for what I might get out of it. I wish I had taken the advice. Instead, I went for a quarter and then got a job and never found the time to go back. 35 years later, I don’t think the few extra years would have been a big deal.

You can do any job for a year, and you don’t know what a job is like in less than a year

I also got this from my brother, and he caveated it with, “I had one job that was so bad I quit in less than a year.” At the time, I was trying to decide whether to stay at a job I had just started. I stuck it out, and though I did quit, it was four years later, and I learned a ton, had many opportunities, and made a bit of money in those years. Sure enough, many of the issues I had with the job those early weeks were illusory, others changed. I’m definitely not advocating sticking out an abusive manager or terrible job, but changing jobs is costly in time, emotional energy and can set back your career (or not). However, very often, jobs change, and a lousy job usually only changes for the better.

Pick your boss

I got this several times, and it’s one of my favorite pieces of advice to give out. Your boss is the most important single factor in your enjoyment or your job and has influence on your compensation, promotion, assignment, and ability to succeed and flourish. We all know a terrible boss can be ruinous, and a great boss can fix so many other things about the job. Obviously, you can’t always pick your boss, but it should be a (the?) top criteria when you are changing jobs. You should be interviewing your potential boss just as they are interviewing you. Having the boss from hell is the best reason to disregard the previous advice and leave a job in less than a year. Having a great boss is a good reason to consider sticking with your current job rather than jumping for the greener-looking grass on the other side of the fence. Venture capitalists fund companies primarily on trust in the leadership, not the idea or the demo. You should do the same when looking for a job: pick the boss, the leaders, and trust that they’ll fix the rest of the issues.

Have an adventure

I got this from my old boss Tyler Brooks. Several years after he was my boss, I was working at Visio, and we were acquired by Microsoft. I did not like many things about Microsoft at the time. I stuck through the first couple of years while getting a retention bonus but was thinking about leaving. Tyler said: “Microsoft is one of the greatest companies ever. I know it’s got issues, but you haven’t really worked there: Visio is still mostly independent. You should have an adventure, learn what you can from working at Microsoft before you leave”.

At the time, I liked reading about explorers and mountain climbers…adventurers. Often (usually), they weren’t having a good time on these adventures. They were often freezing their toes and miserable, even risking death. But they were having adventures, learning, and collecting stories for later. I chose to get a job in the core of Microsoft, learned a ton, eventually leading to a series of the best jobs I ever had. And occasionally, I was unhappy, but I persevered by thinking, “it’s an adventure; it isn’t always going to be fun.”

Funnily enough, years later, I told Tyler how much this advice helped, and he said, “I don’t remember saying that.”

Take the job where you will learn the most…you’ll be more engaged and do better work

I got this from Burton Smith, a technical fellow at Microsoft and the inventor of the GPU. I went to ask him about jobs in GPU programming, but he gave me this general piece of advice: “Take the job where you will learn the most.” I’ve heard this sort of advice before, especially for engineers: “Always be improving your job skills.”. But the second part was the insight: “As long as you are learning, you will be more engaged and do better work.” Even better in some cases than more experienced people. I took his advice and made a big leap into a completely new area where I knew very little (cloud computing). For six months, I thought I’d made a mistake: I was learning because I was drowning in my ignorance and worried that I was wasting everyone’s time. I worked really hard, just reading and studying. After that first six months, I started to know a few things. After a year, I was leading an exciting new project and an expert on a few things. It ended up being the best move I ever made, but it was tough. I actually recommend moving to a job where you are learning a lot but bring along with some skill you already are comfortable with. My old area was graphics and UI…if I’d moved to “graphics in the cloud” or “UI in the cloud,” it would have been easier, though in my case, the payoff might have been less. I got lucky because my boss and my team were patient with me, and it helped that cloud computing was so new that most people were still learning (or inventing it).

The book “Range” (https://howtolivetherestofyourlife.wordpress.com/2021/09/22/notes-on-range-by-david-epstein/) also touches on this subject of learning new stuff.

Try lots of career options

I got this from the book “Range.” To quote from my notes on Chapter 7 of that book:

Studies of highly successful people find that they are more likely to have gone through various different careers and non-traditional paths rather than sticking to one track, company, or role. Instead of making long-term plans, these very successful people say they think short-term or without any plan at all but are willing to try new things. Broader studies of personal preferences and tastes over 10+ years show that people change much more than they expect or remember later. Even personality traits like introversion tend to change over time. Thus choosing a career path early may lock one into a direction that makes no sense for the person as they change.

I wish I had gotten this advice earlier in my career, like maybe in high school.

Have a plan for retirement

This is common advice, though it usually focuses on finances: have a financial plan for retirement. Another piece of this advice I got when I was in my 20s: think about what you want your life to be like when you’re 75. I already wrote about this in another blog post:

That is an age that most of us aspire to reach and still be healthy. By that time, most of us assume we will be retired, our children will be launched, and we should be looking back on the majority of our lives while still looking forward to more. It’s a good question because the answer can clarify a lot of things about the path. My answer at the time was something like “I want to live in a city, have a small place with lots of books, get up in the morning to read the paper, visit some friends and in the evening have a nice meal and perhaps see a show.” That answer made me realize I didn’t have to have a huge amount of money, power, or possessions to be happy, and those realizations have helped me make many career, locale, and relationship decisions.

I got the next insight when I took 2010 off for a sabbatical. My friend Craig Symonds had already taken a leave and told me that because he was so busy at work, he didn’t plan what he would do with the time. So, when it came, he didn’t jump immediately in, then realized much of the time was gone, and he hadn’t completely taken advantage of it. So, when I took my time off, I had my last meeting on Friday and left on a plane the following Monday. I didn’t come back for five months. I really maximized the time before I went back to work.

After that, my wife and I talked about “next time,” whether that was another leave or retirement. I made lists of things I wanted to do, places I wanted to travel, classes I wanted to take. I revisited the piece of advice about age 75. We talked about time and money tradeoffs, where we wanted to live, how our relationship would change, and I got some DNA tests to help me think about how long I was likely to live and what medical issues I might face. I started thinking about the ideas for this blog, “How to live the rest of your life.”

When recently I did retire, I had very few anxieties about it because I knew what I was going to do in the short and long-term and had many other optional backup ideas. My lists of travel and projects are more than enough to take up the rest of my life.

When people started finding out I was retiring, many came and asked me about my thoughts. Many of them were thinking about retirement too. Very few of them had a plan, and as a result, many of them were worried about the future or had already postponed retirement because they just weren’t sure what they would do.

Conclusion

I’ve tried to pass on these pieces of advice, and many people have told me they found them helpful. I hope this blog expands on these and offers other practical ideas.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

If you don’t know where you are going, any path will take you there

This blog is about how to live the rest of your life. But you can’t figure out how to do something until you know what. Simply living, doing the minimum necessary to extend your life day by day, is probably not your goal.

But in my experience, most people haven’t thought about the goals of their life. They are too busy just making it through the day or are on a path set by their parents or the expectations of their culture or social class and have not thought about what they really want out of life.

In my professional life, I’ve interviewed many hundreds of people and mentored many hundreds more. My first question is always “what do you want to do?” or to be funny and relax people; I ask, “what do you want to be when you grow up?”

Often the answers given are incomplete or too short-term. “I want this job because I like working X technology in Y language and your company is a great employer” is okay, but better is “I want to be an individual developer working on graphics because I love the immediate feedback I get from seeing my code create visual images.” Either of these answers is okay in a job interview, but the longer-term answer is better for ensuring a match between the job and the candidate or the employer and the employee.

In terms of how to live your life, an answer to “what do you want?” could be “I want to be rich.” But that answer is incomplete. Better is “I want to have enough money to be financially independent and have a choice whether to work or not.” But answers can be even broader. I think the important thing is not the specific answer, but to have thought about it.

At the highest level, people’s goals in life today tend to fall into broad categories: make money, have a set of family relationships (partner, kids), be happy, and for many, at least some sort of spiritual life. Historically and across cultures, the range of these answers has been even greater.

We tend to think people are ultimately seeking happiness. But in the Iliad, Achilles was told to choose between a long life but to be unremembered or a short life, but followed by eternal glory, and chose the latter. Early Christian ascetics left their families and friends, withdrew to the desert, and often physically tortured themselves in order to purify their souls for the next life. Monks talked about years of torture in this life to avoid eternal torment in the next. Some religions do not believe in a personal afterlife but teach people to sacrifice their happiness to better their descendants or their tribe.

One of the best pieces of advice I was ever given (sometime in my 20s) was to think about what I wanted my life to be like when I was 75. That is an age that most of us aspire to reach and still be healthy. By that time, most of us assume we will be retired, our children will be launched, and we should be looking back on the majority of our lives while still looking forward to more. It’s a good question because the answer can clarify a lot of things about the path. My answer at the time was something like “I want to live in a city, have a small place with lots of books, get up in the morning to read the paper, visit some friends and in the evening have a nice meal and perhaps see a show.” That answer made me realize I didn’t have to have a huge amount of money, power, or possessions to be happy, and those realizations have helped me make many career, locale, and relationship decisions. You (and Achilles and the ancient monks) will answer differently, but the process of answering the question will probably be worthwhile, and the answer may surprise you.

Notes on “Range” by David Epstein

Note: this is an update of a blog I wrote a couple of years ago on another site. Other than some grammatical fixes, none of the content has changed. Reading this book was a major inspiration for starting this blog on how to live the rest of your life.

The theme of “Range” is simply that generalists often do better than specialists, even in niche topics like sports, musical performance, or research and development. It resuscitates old ideas that original thinking comes from inspiration, not just perspiration; that too much (deep) education can be a bad thing, while just reading broadly is enormously valuable even when not directed.

I found it highly relevant to my own life, and to working at Microsoft, and in the cloud industry. Many people I know have read and talked about this book: from colleagues at work to one of my online guitar instructors. Many of them have said something like, “this is a flawed book that could use editing, but it spoke to me and made me feel better about my chaotic, disorganized approach to life and learning”. Or at least, that’s how I feel about it, and I’ve interpreted the feedback of others based on that.

I almost didn’t finish reading the first time through because I thought it bogged down and became repetitive after chapter 7. But I plowed through to Chapter 11, which is about how data-driven organizations full of deep technical expertise and using rigorous processes can fail spectacularly. Suddenly I found myself questioning the entire tech industry and how these ideas can be applied. It was enough that I read the book again and started recommending it widely. The second time through, I noticed even more flaws: the anecdotes often can be interpreted the opposite of the author’s intent completely. But I also more deeply understood its message about the complexity of the real world and how context is good, even when it increases ambiguity. I also think the book itself may reflect the theme of Chapter 4, that we learn better when we struggle with the material.

If you can’t get through all of it, read to 7, and then read chapter 11 if you work at any large organization.

I also highly recommend Chapters 6 and 7 to anyone thinking about changing jobs or starting a new part of their education. I wish I had read this when I was about 16 years old. The premise of these chapters is that many successful people try many different things before they settle into their career, and often even then, they change into completely different fields late in life.

A shorter review is here: https://www.npr.org/2019/05/28/725755061/range-argues-that-specialization-should-not-be-the-goal-for-most

Murat’s view here: http://muratbuffalo.blogspot.com/2019/06/book-review-range-why-generalists.html

Introduction: Roger vs Tiger

Tiger Woods started golfing before he could speak, and his father kept him entirely focused on that sport growing up. Roger Federer played a wide variety of sports growing up and only started focusing on Tennis fairly late. Contrary to intuition or common lore, it turns out that Roger’s path is the more common. Studies show that most elite athletes start by playing many different sports and only specialize later.
Comment: the book ignores the obvious conclusion that truly elite athletes are simply more naturally athletic and thus find it easier to play many different sports than the rest of us. I kept coming back to this thought as I read the rest of the book.
Epstein’s path to “Range” started with looking at athletes for his earlier book “The Sports Gene” and learning about “Roger vs Tiger” and the advantages of late specialization and then found out the same was true in many areas. It seems that people do best who sample many different specializations, genres, college majors, or careers and then pick one where they have a particular affinity, skill, or just like. Going further, Epstein started to find out about the dangers of specialization, including the “if all you have is a hammer…” problem and local optimizations.

Chapter 1: The Cult of the Head Start

This section talks about Laszlo Polgar’s successful experiment raising three daughters to be chess prodigies, including his daughter Judit, the strongest female chess player in history and the only woman ever in the top 10 among all players. This story and that of Tiger Woods seem to demonstrate that supreme talent can simply be trained from an early age and suggests that any other path will tend to mediocrity. The study of savants also indicates that single-minded focus can have spectacular results. AI research shows that general intelligence is not necessary in games like chess, go, and even RTSes.
Not everything in the real world is a closed game with carefully defined rules and deterministic outcomes. Real-life (the wicked world) often involves unclear, changing rules, and in these cases, expertise is of less use. Studies have shown that experts do worse than amateurs in games where the rules are suddenly changed: they are misled by their own expertise. No savant, no matter how impressive their skills in arithmetic or music, has ever been a Big-C creator: a great composer or award-winning mathematician. In fact, Nobel Prize winners have been shown to be at least 20 times more likely to spend considerable time at other hobbies, skills, or fields outside their award specialty than the general scientific population.
Research shows that top performers use analogies and draw inspiration from a wide range of areas.

Chapter 2: How the Wicked World was made

The Flynn Effect (Flynn is a New Zealand Political Scientist) is that average IQ has been rising for over a century. IQ scores always average to 100 because, over time, researchers have made the test harder. Given the same test from 100 years earlier, an average IQ 100 woman today would score in the 98th percentile. Controlling for nutrition and education explains some of this, but not all. Tests of general knowledge have hardly budged in this time, but abstract tests about “similarities” and tests designed to be culturally neutral about problem solving showed the biggest improvement.
In the 20s and 30s, the Soviet Union reached into illiterate peasant communities and introduced education, collective farms, and industrial development. Psychologist Alexander Luria decided to test how these changes also changed the minds of the people. He found that their ability to organize things (colors, thread, animals) in abstract groupings increased (aside: reading is an abstraction; does reading itself change the mind’s ability to handle abstraction?). In turn, pre-modern people seem to be less susceptible to optical illusions.
The modern world is full of abstractions and requires conceptual thinking that can jump from one particular to another. But Flynn observes that modern education is increasingly specialized: pushing people early into studying facts and specifics rather than transferable abstract thinking. And his studies have shown that students in deep majors often are unable to apply scientific thinking outside of their own domain.
To counter this, some universities are introducing broad interdisciplinary majors. For example, the University of Washington has a course called “Calling Bullshit” focused on critical thinking and broadly applying philosophy and scientific processes.

Chapter 3: When Less of the Same is More

17th century Venice saw a revolution in music performance, and composers like Vivaldi took advantage of this to create new, more complex concertos and solos. These performers were foundling women abandoned at the Hospital of Mercy in Venice and trained their whole lives to play a wide range of musical instruments (as well as reading, writing, other vocational talents).
Like with sports, in the modern world. It is often assumed musical talent must be developed early, and kids must choose their instrument as young as possible. But studies have shown that the best musicians come from less musical families and spend less time practicing and less on a single instrument at first. Likewise, students who play more instruments do better playing their primary. However, classical musicians indeed seem to do better with focus and early start, while Jazz musicians start much later and are less likely to specialize in one instrument.
It turns out to be rare for musicians to be world-class in both jazz and classical music. Moreover, classical musicians, no matter how talented, often find it difficult or impossible to improvise, while many jazz musicians have no musical training and often cannot read music. As a result, for many (most?) learning music seems to be like learning a language: where children do it simply by imitation.
“Breadth of training leads to breadth of transfer.” The more contexts in which things are learned, the easier it is to abstract the principles and apply them elsewhere.

Chapter 4: Learning, Fast and Slow

Studies of education around the world show that students do better when they struggle to learn. Teachers who guide the students may help them complete their homework and score well on tests, but it has been shown the students retain less later. Standard measures of teacher quality, including test scores and student assessments, seem to contraindicate long-term learning (I was reminded that I learned the most from the college professor who flunked almost everyone out of numerical methods).
“Spacing” is the technique of leaving time between bouts of deliberate practice. Students who study straight through do worse than students who study less, with breaks where they think about something else: sometimes these differences are spectacular. But spacing, testing without hints and guidance, and using “making-connections” questions are shown to improve long-term results but make short-term learning harder. Blocked practice is another example, where focus on a single subject does better over the short term but worse over the long term than Mixed practice where different types of problems are studied together.
Head Start and other early education programs show great short-term results. But students tested later in life do no better and sometimes worse. So it may be that early education programs are teaching things kids will learn anyway naturally later.

Chapter 5: Thinking outside experience

Kepler struggled for years to understand the motions of the planets, why further planets moved more slowly than nearer, or why they even moved at all. Stuck with very little data, he used analogies to think about theories, eventually coming up with the idea of gravitation force based on thinking about magnetism. When faced with new situations, we reach out to analogous examples, and this hugely, other consciously and unconsciously influences our thinking. Furthermore, it has been shown experimentally that thinking too close inside the subject matter can be misleading: we tend to focus too much on deep experience when faced with a problem that may be much different. Kahneman and Tversky call this “the inside view.” When experts are asked to estimate how long a project will take or the expected outcome of an investment, they break it down into well-known sub-problems and chain these estimates together: and usually vastly underestimate the difficulties therein. Whereas when they are asked to step back and think generally about similar situations, ignoring the details, they make better estimates. Instead, algorithms like Netflix’s movie preference rating (what do people who liked similar movies like) work by general similarity or analogy.
Studies show groups with different experiences, working together and not focused too much on details do better than groups of experts at solving many tasks.

Chapter 6; The Trouble with Too Much Grit

Van Gogh tried many different careers and artistic pursuits for many years, failing at each, before trying painting. Then, when he found painting easier than expected, he still gyrated from one technique and subject to another, often spending only a few hours dashing out a painting that later turned out to be priceless. JK Rowling and Gaugin are other examples of people who failed spectacularly and repeatedly before finding a match of talent, interest, and work.
The US Army studied West Point students to guess which would pass through the incoming “Beast Barracks” of basic training and orientation. The Whole Candidate Score based on academic results and physical fitness measures failed to predict success, but a Grit test that asked students about their work ethic and singular focus did. However, there are two flaws with this: the Whole Candidate Score is only used against the relatively small group that has already chosen and been selected to attend West Point; and it isn’t clear whether the people who stuck through Beast out of pure grit really should have…some of them persevered at something that may not have been the right choice.
West Point graduates were dropping out of the military as soon as their mandatory service allowed. Attempts to entice young officers to stay in the military with higher pay backfired: the best officers left anyway, pocketing the extra income. While the knowledge economy in private industry encouraged fail-fast and quick career changes, recruiting these sort of people into the rigid military just led to them leaving for other opportunities. This trend was only reversed when candidates were given more choice on their career path: the branch and type of service and education they were allowed to pursue, improving the chance of finding a match to the kind of work they like.
A young person benefits from trying multiple different kinds of experiences, even though these may look like risky career moves until they find a great match.

Chapter 7: Flirting with Your Possible Selves

Studies of highly successful people find that they are more likely to have gone through various different careers and non-traditional paths rather than sticking to one track, company, or role. Instead of making long-term plans, these very successful people say they think short-term or without any plan at all but are willing to try new things. Broader studies of personal preferences and tastes over 10+ years show that people change much more than they expect or remember later. Even personality traits like introversion tend to change over time. Thus choosing a career path early may lock one into a direction that makes no sense for the person as they change.

Chapter 8: The Outsider Advantage

Eli Lilly had a list of molecules they were trying to synthesize unsuccessfully. Finally, they posted the problems openly on a website and asked for suggestions. The VP of research had realized that most hard problems were solved by “clever insights” rather than hard work. Outsiders from various fields, such as lawyers, solved chemistry problems that had eluded highly trained experts, usually by drawing from analogous problems and parallel solutions. This process was spun out of Ely Lilly into a startup called InnoCentive, and NASA and others have used it. Specialists look too closely at the details or try to fix minor problems in incorrect approaches, whereas outsiders can see broad solutions.
This problem can be even worse in academic research, where journals accept papers focused on narrow subspecialties and incremental improvements. As a result, problem-solving gets divided up into specialized areas with no obvious ways of connecting them.

Chapter 9: Lateral Thinking with Withered Technology

This chapter is primarily the story of Gunpei Yokoi, who was hired by Nintendo to service card-making machines but was a tinkerer in his spare time. One of these projects turned into a toy that was a massive seller. After designing a complex racing game that failed, he focused on designing simple toys and games based on older technology. Doing this made manufacturing easier and less expensive, and quicker to market where it could be tested. The NES and even earlier “Game and Watch” were fun, cheap, easily fit in a pocket, durable, and had good user experiences.
3M studied inventors and categorized them into two buckets: specialists and generalists. They found both types equally likely to get patents and innovation awards. But they found a rarer group of deep specialists in one area who were also broadly capable in many other areas. These polymaths were the most likely to be the most innovative, drawing on their knowledge of adjacent realms and applying it to their specialty.
In a study of comic book authors, neither long experience nor availability of resources predicted hit comics. The most successful authors were instead those with the broadest range of different genres on their resumes. They also found that individual superstars were more likely to come up with hits than teams.
Serial innovators often do not fit into the specialized roles found in large companies. They do not match job descriptions and often have resumes full of gaps and many switches. Overall, deep specialization is required in well-defined, deep problem areas, but generalists do just as well or better in undefined areas.

Chapter 10: Fooled by Experience

In his 1968 book “The Population Bomb,” Paul Ehrlich predicted resource shortages would cause 100s of millions, even billions of deaths by the end of the 1980s. Instead, commodity prices dropped, and the worldwide food supply per person is higher than ever in history. Research shows that such big idea pundits are usually wrong, even as they amass more and more information and expertise backing their cases. However, other groups have proven to be surprisingly adept at making predictions.
Phillip Tetlock studied a wide range of expert forecasters over 20 years and found they did poorly at all time scales and domains, regardless of expertise. However, “integrators” who based their forecasts on examining many ideas from a range of experts and non-experts and synthesizing their predictions were surprisingly capable. These integrators tended to reject simple “big” ideas and embrace ambiguity. Based on this research, the Intelligence Advanced Research Projects Activity (IARPA) organized a prediction tournament, where teams competed to predict economic measures and global events. Tetlock called openly for volunteers and people with wide-ranging interests and no specific deep expertise. This team so thoroughly beat the expert teams that the study was reorganized in year 2 to remove the experts. Small teams of generalists also beat crowd-sourced predictions and prediction markets. Tetlock calls these teams “superforecasters.” They are characterized by being open-minded, switching their views, and integrating ideas and perspectives from many sources (aside: I a reminded of Nassim Taleb, who, when he was a trader, read the Economist and poetry instead of watching his Bloomberg terminal).
While superforecasters remain open-minded, studies of the human population find that they are unwilling to read views contrary to their own, and scientifically literate adults are actually more likely to become dogmatic about scientific topics than the less educated, even when they are demonstrably wrong. Further studies found “scientific curiosity” to be more valuable than scientific knowledge. Research also shows that forecasters can get better by being trained to look for similar patterns in different domains, study failed predictions, and use other “foxy thinking” techniques.

Chapter 11: Learning to drop your familiar tools

This is a difficult chapter. It epitomizes the strengths and failures of the book: engaging, readable stories and anecdotes that don’t clearly support the thesis, inadequate citation, cherry-picking details, and contradictions in conclusions. Arguably, the book’s message is that the real world is messy and full of ambiguity, and this chapter reflects that. Or maybe it just needed an editor. However, the chapter makes valuable organizational insights about the dangers of conformity and congruence and the value of open communications, encouraging dissent, and breaking down hierarchy.
The first story is about NASA and the Challenger disaster. Engineers had a hunch that launching the shuttle on a cold day could lead to O-ring failure but, faced with insufficient data, went ahead with the launch. NASA had a long history of being data-driven, but without enough data, engineers could only follow procedure. In the next story, Epstein talks about forest firefighters who could have run to safety but instead died with their heavy packs and tools, even when ordered to drop them. Epstein makes the analogy that NASA could not give up on its process even when the data was lacking: a “mistake of conformity.”
NASA developed its data-driven culture under von Braun, who had listened to engineers at all levels of the organization and instituted the practice of “Monday Notes.” In this practice, every engineer submitted weekly single-page summaries of their top issues; von Braun wrote comments on these notes and circulated them back to the entire organization. This process informally spread information up and down the hierarchy and across the organization, alerted the organization early about problems, and allowed distant engineers to draw on similar solutions in other areas. After von Braun, the notes became formal status reports and only flowed upwards. Management no longer welcomed bad news or recognized the value of spotting problems before they became critical. The Columbia disaster showed the same sort of culture of conforming to process (some engineers asked the DoD for pictures of the shuttle to see if it was damaged, and management blocked the request and apologized for the violation of protocol). In contrast, Rex Geveden, the manager of Gravity Probe B, listened to engineers concerned about one potential problem and delayed their launch, despite administrative pressure. More problems were discovered while fixing the probe, which would have almost certainly failed.
The chapter concludes that data-driven organizations, full of smart experts, fail if they are too conformant to rigorous process because they do not acknowledge hunches or intuition when there is not enough data. Reporting upward simplifies complex situations and makes the problem seem more black and white. Instead, Geveden says, “The chain of communication has to be informal and completely different from the chain of command.” I think anyone who works in a large tech company can probably see the value of this idea.

Chapter 12: Deliberate Amateurs

In this chapter, Epstein tells the stories of a series of scientists and researchers who were successful by experimenting on crazy ideas, often outside their areas of expertise. These scientists and labs encourage playful experiments and interdisciplinary cross-fertilization. At John Hopkins, one program teaches courses about types of evidence and actively studies scientific errors (sounds like the “bullshit” course at UW). Researchers studying very creative projects found boundaries between teams were porous, allowing communications and allowing people to move between organizations and specialties. Papers that cite papers across a wider range of sources, especially journals not commonly cited, started out slowly but were more likely to be more influential 15 years later.

Conclusion: Expanding your range

In the conclusion, Epstein confirms my suspicion that he wrote Range based on his experience researching “the Sports Gene.” He wanted to advise athletes and their parents not to specialize in one sport too early and found this same advice applied across domains. Epstein leaves us with the advice to not feel left behind because you didn’t start early, try different things, and treat work and life as a series of experiments.

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