Full Title: The Looking Glass: Our Souls Need Proof of Work
Highlights
What I want to suggest instead is that hard workis necessary for our happiness and well-being.
As it turns out, our souls needs proof of work. (View Highlight)
I’m going to go with the simplest definition: hard work is whatever you personally feel is hard for you.
Hard means effortful; hard means discomfort; it takes something out of you to do it.
Hard is deeply personal.
For some people, the repetitive labor of digging weeds under the hot sun would be considered hard. For others, gardening is a relaxing hobby. For some, being in front of a crowd feels like chewing glass. For others, it’s as effortless as breathing.
You know what’s hard for you. (View Highlight)
It is a tale as old as time: loving parents who have suffered want nothing more than to shield their children from pain.
Those who labor tirelessly to put food on the table and push their kids to be a doctor, lawyer, or engineer pursue the North Star of be comfortable. (View Highlight)
Comfort is our religion. We hear its seductive whisper everywhere: Isn’t your life stressful enough? Why keep talking to people you disagree with? Why endure inconvenience when groceries, meals, and weed can come straight to your door? Why brave the hassle of your car when you can Zoom from home, fuzzy bunny slippers and all? (View Highlight)
And if you must travel, why not let a car drive you? And if you want intimacy, why expose yourself to awkward introductions when you can effortlessly swipe? And if even swiping feels tedious, why not dig into the infinite carousel of graphic videos just a few clicks away? (View Highlight)
And let’s not forget our new friend, AI. Humanity is about to be made over by the power of intelligence. Why should only the privileged have assistants? AI will plan your week, do your shopping, write your emails, curate your movies, gather your research.
This is just the start. Soon, AI-driven robots will tackle our cleaning, dishes, and childcare. AI therapists will say exactly what we crave to hear. AI will craft films tailored precisely to our personal tastes, and write novels so perfectly attuned to our desires that disappointment becomes obsolete.
Every new technology, service, and business promises to sweep away life’s inconveniences. With a magician’s sleight of hand, they dangle attractive people and catchy jingles at every turn, beckoning you towards an endless buffet of fulfilled wants. (View Highlight)
The siren song of the world’s largest corporations echoes the enduring message of devoted parents throughout history: to be comfortable is to be happy. (View Highlight)
Wanting has a mascot, and its name is dopamine—those tiny carriers of motivational signals zipping around our brains.
When dopamine first captured scientific attention, it was dubbed the chemical of pleasure. We believed that more dopamine equaled more happiness, but that’s only partly true. Dopamine is less about experiencing pleasure and more about driving us to seek future rewards. It’s the thrill of anticipation rather than satisfaction itself. (View Highlight)
Soon enough, however, that sensation fades. Dopamine levels return to baseline, leaving behind a lingering whisper in your brain: Didn’t that feel great? Do it again! And so you do. (View Highlight)
Yet each subsequent reward tends to deliver a slightly weaker dopamine spike—a phenomenon economists call diminishing marginal utility, explaining why the tenth bite never tastes as delicious as the first. (View Highlight)
But dopamine has another, darker trick up its sleeve. Repeated dopamine surges alters the brain’s wiring, reducing sensitivity to natural rewards. Each surge, like a crooked accountant skimming profits, subtly changes the way your brain responds, reducing your ability to feel pleasure and increasing your craving for more.
When dopamine hits are few and far between, your brain has time to reset. But constant dopamine stimulation starts changing your brain’s chemistry, lowering its sensitivity to rewards. You begin to feel worse by default, craving increasingly intense stimulation just to achieve your original baseline of pleasure. (View Highlight)
This destructive cycle is at the core of addiction, explaining why addicts become increasingly irritable and desperate without their fix. Their brain chemistry now needs the addictive substance or behavior just to feel “normal.” Feeling pleasure demands ever-higher stakes.
Even if we’re not talking about heroin or slot machines, this pattern is everywhere. Remember when 12 likes on social media felt amazing? But then you posted a puppy hugging a koala—10,000 likes! You’re ecstatic! Yet future posts garner just 300 likes, leaving you disappointed, even though 12 once thrilled you. (View Highlight)
vi.
In Japan, often seen as a harbinger of the future, birth rates are declining sharply. Family units are unraveling, and there is the troubling rising of hikikomori—people who choose to no longer leave their homes.
These individuals, ensconced in the womb of modern conveniences—limitless internet, endless food deliveries, on-demand entertainment—have relinquished real-world connections. Yet this group is six times more likely to experience mood disorders than the general population. (View Highlight)
This is the hidden trap of comfort: the easier and quicker our desires are fulfilled, the more our brains recalibrate. Getting what we want, without struggle or delay, numbs our ability to experience real joy and satisfaction.
In short, being too comfortable actually makes us miserable. (View Highlight)
Have you heard of the Ikea effect?
In one study, subjects were willing to pay 63% more for furniture they assembled with their own hands than for an identical pre-assembled piece.
We tend to love what we pour effort into. (View Highlight)
Comfort and convenience are valuable for the time it frees up. But how we use that time matters. We need voluntary challenge, not the empty victory of quick dopamine hits. Research into discomfort—like ice baths or cold showers—shows these short bursts of voluntary hardship boost mood, reduce stress, and build greater resilience.
Similarly, intermittent fasting — voluntarily making yourself hungry – has been linked to better emotional stability. Individuals experienced in fasting show greater resilience to negative events than non-fasters. (View Highlight)
Paradoxically, doing hard things makes us happier. Putting ourselves through struggle makes us better equipped to enjoy life. (View Highlight)
We’re going to have to have to change something of ourselves. And this capacity for change is rooted in the extraordinary plasticity of the human brain. Can you guess what it takes for our brains to learn new skills?
Yep—effort and strain. Growth demands focus, alertness, and perseverance. We must embrace mistakes and grind through the hard. Only through discomfort can we feel the pride of accomplishment. (View Highlight)
Don’t work hard for the money, or the promotion, or the accolades. All of that fades.
Ignore the whispers that beckon you towards the easy wins. The deepest human relationships come from accepting the best and worst of one another. The greatest love for a craft comes from discovering all the endless ways to be humbled by it.
Work hard for yourself, for the pride you feel when you’re one step closer to the person you’ve always wanted to be. (View Highlight)
