In the fall of 2012, I entered college an aspiring journalist and a bright-eyed environmental activist. Despite an intense interest in STEM, I lacked the patience to make it into a career — whereas I found flow states easier to enter with writing, and I’d received sufficient praise from teachers over the years to consider writing a legitimate and realistic career focus. In college, I figured, I’d devote myself to the craft through journalism. Over the first two years of undergrad however, the once-dreamy prospect of my becoming a journalist at somewhere like The New York Times or The Washington Post vanished from my mind’s horizon.
This was not just because the economics of digital media were in rough shape (they still are and certainly were then). It was also the then-inarticulatable realization that, in the Information Age, the profession of a journalist has been disrupted, leading the press to be increasingly competitive; over time, this encourages a tendency to appeal to base impulses in their reporting, facilitating what seemed like a toxic dynamic for journalists, with questionable cultural implications as well. That so many journalism professors and guest speakers admonished students about the difficulties of becoming a professional journalist today only heightened my circumspection.
Most importantly though, there seemed to be a suffocating cognitive dissonance at the intersection of objective reporting versus editorialization and analysis that seemed entirely intractable under our disrupted media landscape — a development that journalism professors, at least for me, could not adequately address. It seemed that there was an individual-driven style of journalism emerging that older media institutions were structurally disadvantaged to compete with. People like Nate Silver most closely represented this then, but today Ben Thompson,
This was a mode of journalism at odds with both (a) what I was learning at journalism school and (b) what I wanted to do at that stage in my career. I was a college student — who was I to think I have enough perspective at this early stage in my life to write about the big topics that interest me? (Climate change, artificial intelligence, religion, political economy, the history of ideas, etc.) Surely my time would be better spend cultivating my own sense of understanding the world, which I can then in turn share?
I decided I’d probably be better off learning all I could about the world — and if I wanted, I could write along the way. Taking a holistic path toward self-development—through a diverse assortment of books, podcasts, travel, fitness, diverse work experiences—I’d be able to cultivate the richest and most vibrant version of myself. I’d be able to develop the strongest, clearest, and most fine-tuned lens for how to understand the world. And in time, I’d be able to share whatever wisdom I’ve gained with the rest of the society.
Recently, I’ve realized that it’s time for me to begin sharing this perspective with a broader audience.
And so I’ve decided to start this blog. Because most non-fiction books are irrelevant the day the are published, I’ll be doing my best to update this blog regularly with things that have been occupying my noggin.
Note: That’s not to say I’m not actually writing a book — rather that it aspires to be timeless while this blog aims to be more timely.