Take Romeo and Juliet for example, two lovers whose relationship ends with both dying, yet the play remains one of the most famous tragedies in the world.

Or Macbeth for that matter, a man who achieves everything he ever wanted, only to destroy everything that gave it value.

Titanic, we know the fate of the ship and the love story between the two companions but still seek its entertainment time and time again.

So why? Why do we purposely seek entertainment that makes us sad when sadness is, by definition, a negative emotion?

Tragedy makes us feel something

Humans are irrational creatures; not everything we do has to make sense. It’s the equivalent of watching a horror movie to be scared on purpose. We often want to feel emotion in its most powerful form. And that sometimes means being captivated by a tragedy and labelling it beautiful. We want the experience that transports our minds into the characters’ lives and places us within the story. Perhaps we simply want to feel.

Safe suffering

When an emotional event happens in a play, movie or another piece of art, we can explore mortality, grief, suffering or betrayal without the real-life consequences. Someone can die on stage and we feel their pain, a character can be deceived and we feel their betrayal, a heartbreak without having our hearts broken. The emotions are real, but the consequences aren’t. Perhaps there’s also an element of emotional bonding we enjoy when experiencing the sadness with others.

Curiosity

Take Macbeth again. He achieved everything, then lost it. In a way, we succeeded with him, but we also failed alongside him. Perhaps there is a morbid curiosity in seeing what happens when ambition is taken too far, letting us witness someone becoming the monster, rather than becoming the monster ourselves. It’s a curiosity beyond social norms, a desire to see what happens when the character crosses the line.

Feels human

We might be irrational creatures, but we’re deeply empathetic. In a way, this is why we enjoy safe suffering, as emotions create the bonds between us. Witnessing a tragedy makes us feel human because we share the same emotions with those around us. If we witness a tragedy in the theatre with a room full of strangers, we fall silent together, cry together. It feels like we’re being kind to our souls, even if it does bring tears to our eyes.

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Tragedies bring us into harmony with one another through a shared emotional experience, allowing us to feel comfort in times of sadness. Sadness is also a source of bonding, friendship and familiarity so perhaps there is an element of pleasure that arises through witnessing a tragedy in a crowd of people. Stories also seem to bring people together, so perhaps this is why we’re drawn to tragedies. It’s not that we’re lonely, it’s that it comforts the soul.

We tend to see the good in people, looking at their intentions as if they want the best for us, our situation and our friendships. We put our faith in them, send them birthday cards and donate to their favourite charities. We see the best in them because we’re emotional creatures who make decisions based on trust, trust that is built from the first impression.

But having knowledge of human history makes that difficult. We only need to open any old textbook to see examples of deceit, greed and selfishness. It’s absurd really. It begs the question of whether we’re a moral species that is occasionally violent or we’re a violent species who hides it behind a pretence of morality.

Either way, there’s a reason countries spend huge proportions of GDP on their military budgets as a hedge against the malevolence of human nature. It’s fundamental to our existence, whether the harm is caused through violence or deceit.

But malevolence isn’t always remembered as malevolence when a degree of victory is involved. In fact, the desire to do harm to others quickly becomes “benevolence” in retrospect when a tyrant causes suffering to a neighbouring nation that greatly benefits his own people.

Benevolence is the desire to do good to others.

Some of the greatest atrocities committed throughout history were committed by those convinced they were doing right by their people, that they were being good. It begs the question of whether the tyrant intends to cause harm for the sake of harm or whether they fundamentally believe they’re doing it for a higher purpose.

History is fundamentally written by the victors, so in their minds, their desire to harm becomes an act of benevolence, whereas the victim sees it as malevolence. It’s a strange case where the violence and deceit disappear when glory is produced.

A few examples:

• According to Roman mythology, Romulus killed his brother Remus over a disagreement between the two over their new city of Rome. If Rome collapsed 100 years later, perhaps Romulus would be known as the man who committed fratricide and not the man who brought glory to Rome.

• Julius Caesar defeated his political opponents, invaded Gaul with extraordinary violence, and eventually became a dictator. He is remembered as one of history’s greatest military figures. His assassination can either be interpreted as murder or the liberation of a republic from a dictator.

• Qin Shi Huang conquered other Chinese nations, imposed severe punishments, suppressed opposition, and imposed forced labour on state projects. His dynasty collapsed shortly after his death, but the political unification put him in the history books as the first Emperor of China.

• William the Conqueror invaded England, defeated Harold at Hastings, replaced much of its ruling class, and suppressed resistance. He brought destruction, displacement and famine to the North. He is remembered as a conqueror who reshaped England rather than the foreign tyrant that invaded the country.

• Napoleon seized power in a coup, crowned himself Emperor, censored the press, maintained extensive policing, and fought wars that engulfed Europe. His actions reformed European legal systems, administration and institutions, which survive today. Napoleon is remembered for both his military genius and reforms.

When malevolence fails, we remember the tyrant. When malevolence succeeds, we remember the conqueror.

We usually preserve history through those who conquered, not through those who suffered. And a decision on their legacy isn’t made until many years later after the effects of the tyranny have had years to settle.

Were their actions malevolent?

Or were their actions benevolent?

A tyrant can desire prosperity for his own people while desiring the destruction of another. But it’s difficult to consider that the starving family in northern England wouldn’t know what a reshaped England would look like a thousand years later, nor would someone forced onto construction projects in imperial China thousands of years later. It’s the immediate suffering that should be shocking; to us, it’s glory, to them, it’s life.

So humans will always commit harm, always have the capacity for malevolence, it’s just a matter of whether that harm can be justified through benevolence, and whether that justification is accepted by the people.

If it is, we might have a conqueror. If it’s not, we might be dealing with a tyrant.

And tyrannies often end with violence.

Can we justify malevolence to overthrow a tyrant? To fight fire with fire?

We’re a violent species.

But we don’t talk about the dark side of motivation. We talk about passion, happiness, joyful rewards and positive reinforcement; we neglect to talk about pride, lust, envy, greed and spite. Positive motivation can move us towards a better life, but so can dark motivation; one can be as powerful as the other.

Dark motivation is fuelled by impulses we condemn.

Pride

Without pride, without self-belief, how will we have the drive to remove ourselves from a situation we don’t love? Self-belief, or pride, is where heroes are born and losers die. If people around us tell us we’re destined for nothing, we believe them until we become like them. Pride gives us the drive to achieve something other people haven’t. We condemn pride as arrogance, but pride is where self-belief is born. And self-belief gives us the drive to change our circumstances.

Lust

Without lust, how will we pursue something with an obsessive passion? How can we achieve greatness without lusting after the very thing that gives us meaning? Lust is condemned because desire can become obsessive, but we’re also told to find something we’re passionate about. It is lust that gives us the drive to pursue. Lust is where change begins.

Envy

Envy is the dark emotion that tells us we’re inferior. It puts our name on the social ladder, forcing us to compare ourselves with the rest of society. Envy tells us we want another person’s qualities, possessions or success. It is discontent in its highest form. How can we have the drive to change our situation if we never look at someone else’s life and desire what they have? Envy drives discontent. Discontent drives change.

Greed

Without greed, how else can we drive success when the economy is based on monetary value? We condemn greed as excessive hoarding while money is associated with freedom, security and success. Greed gives us the drive to hoard resources, stabilise our future and give us the freedom to do as we please. Greed drives stability. The desire for stability drives change.

Spite

Spite is the desire that sets us on a journey when we’ve been wronged. It is fuelled by pride, lust, envy and greed. Spite encourages us to seek revenge when we’ve been laughed at, rejected, underestimated or judged. It is the drive to prove others wrong, to show them how far we have come. We condemn spite as petty and vindictive, but celebrate the success that can come from proving someone wrong. Spite is fuel, a dark fuel that takes its revenge through success.

We hear stories of motivation, often talking about financial gain for ourselves or our family, changing our bodies, pursuing our passions or creating a better life. These are the motivations we’re comfortable talking about as they’re considered positive. We’re less comfortable talking about where the initial motivation comes from. The question being: why do we want success in the first place?

There is a darker side to motivation that shouldn’t be ignored simply because we don’t like talking about it. Pride, lust, envy, greed and spite aren’t desirable qualities, but they are part of human nature. Perhaps social media is giving us a front-row seat to the darker forms of motivation that are normal in the status game.

We want to be successful, we want to have money, we want to beat our competition, even if that means being fuelled by pride, lust, envy, greed and spite. We condemn those behaviours, but we reward them when they produce success.

Motivation is both beautiful and ugly. Sometimes, dark motivation can be the rocket that takes us out of the stratosphere.

Is that a good thing?

If you consider the irony involved, then yes, I suppose. We’re afraid of our own death, always have been, like it’s something that’s been hard-wired deep into our consciousness. But the question I have is, why are we obsessed with it?

I suppose the fear of the unknown comes to mind, or a natural curiosity towards a problem that we can’t solve, perhaps can never solve so we become fascinated with it.

I mean, we know we’re eventually going to die, the conscious element of that makes us human, so we avoid immediate danger, as any other animal does, but when we remove the subjective element of it, the danger from ourselves, we become fascinated again. The observer, not the observed, perhaps.

I suppose it’s why we’re also obsessed with serial killers or plane crashes or any other similar documentary you might find on Netflix. Because death is fascinating, not in the sadistic, psychopathic type of way, but a natural curiosity as to what happens next and how someone, psychologically can go to such extremes despite also not knowing what is after death.

I suppose the obsession derives from a side-effect of being consciously aware that life will one day cease.

I don’t know, it’s interesting to me, so perhaps this is a bit of a morbid conversation.

I think we have a love/ hate relationship with death. Hate because of the unknown and love for the same reason.

And I think that’s why we’re morbidly curious.

Humans; the species that knows its existence is finite.

One of the biggest challenges I see today is the demands we place on ourselves. Yes, we need to have standards to grow and pursue something with excellence, but there is a negative aspect that seeps in when we don’t live up to our own expectations.

I realised that we give ourselves a hard time when we miss deadlines, don’t achieve the progress we thought we would and fail to maintain the daily goals we have set for ourselves.

This can lead to self-criticism, burnout and a complete loss of motivation.

My aim, therefore, is to look at consistency over a longer period of time rather than something in the short term.

If we look at consistency over the course of a year, we witness the progress we make regardless of whether we miss a few weekends or not.

I liken consistency to a painting, one that comes together with every brushstroke. The masterpiece isn’t ruined because we missed a few days, the masterpiece comes together because we kept painting.

My Experience

In 2025, I posted 20 articles on Substack over 45 weeks.

At the time, my intention was to post an article each week to grow my Substack into something I would be proud of by the end of the year. In my mind, consistency would prove to myself that I was a respectable writer who presented his ideas and took his craft seriously. But I missed weeks. And my writing confidence disappeared because of it.

It didn’t matter whether I was sick, on holiday or busy with professional work obligations. I missed the self-made deadline and beat myself up for it.

Looking back, it didn’t make sense - I was still producing the work, just at a pace that was healthier for me.

Fast forward to the end of the year and I realised that 20 articles is a strong achievement regardless of how many weeks I took off.

So I smiled, told myself I was proud and ended New Year’s Eve on a high note.

Progress should be measured by the finished painting, not by the days you didn’t pick up the brush.

It’s a lot more peaceful that way.

The human eats.

The animal sleeps.

The human sleeps.

The animal has mating rituals.

The human has mating rituals.

The animal’s body adapts.

The human’s body adapts.

The animal builds a home.

The human builds a home.

The animal learns.

The human learns.

The animal gathers.

The human gathers.

The animal lives in groups.

The human lives in groups.

The animal has hierarchy.

The human has hierarchy.

The animal travels.

The human travels.

The animal communicates.

The human communicates.

The animal solves problems.

The human solves problems.

The animal mourns.

The human mourns.

The animal protects its young.

The human protects its young.

The animal survives.

The human survives.

The animal grows old.

The human grows old.

The animal dies.

The human dies.

Human in mind, animal in body.

It’s the ego that tells us otherwise.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be human lately, and I keep coming back to the same topic:

Art

And the question of why we create it, even when we’re at our lowest.

My inspiration here was Vincent van Gogh and the paintings he created despite suffering deeply with psychological suffering.

Art defines us

Certain animals are known for creating dams, complex nests and ornaments to attract mates. Humans are known for our intelligence, upright posture and ability to share knowledge, but perhaps it is our ability to create and appreciate art that should be the defining characteristic.

Why we create art

Some argue we create art as a natural byproduct of our complex brains, as a form of communication to understand complex emotions, to leave a legacy beyond death, or for a search for meaning, perhaps unlocking philosophical answers to our existence through creativity.

Perhaps all those are true; art symbolises the creative need in humanity to go deeper, beyond our comprehension, to make sense of the world and transform thoughts into something tangible.

My art is writing - writing clarifies my thoughts and allows me to go deeper into a topic than my own thoughts will let me. Perhaps it’s seeing the art come together on the page that brings it alive.

Art at our lowest

Van Gogh

Vincent van Gogh, the Dutch painter who created around 900 paintings and over 1,200 sketches famously painted The Starry Night while at an asylum in Saint-Remy. In his letters, he talks about painting to find meaning through a love of the craft, “What is done in love is done well”, to express what words couldn’t, “Through my work I’d like to show what such an eccentric, such a nobody, has in his heart”, or perhaps for a legacy, “I’m working furiously, because of the very fact that I know that the opportunities to work don’t come back... a more violent crisis may destroy my ability to paint forever”.

Edvard Munch

Edvard Munch, the Norwegian painter famously known for The Scream. He viewed art as a way to understand life and meaning itself, “I do not believe in an art which is not forced into existence by a human being’s desire to open his heart. All art... must be born in your heart’s blood”. Perhaps painting became his way of communicating anxiety in a way others could understand in The Scream, “I stood there trembling with anxiety and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature”.

Francisco Goya

Francisco Goya, the Spanish painter, who through a period of isolation created some of history’s darkest works in The Black Paintings. His paintings reflect the darker side of humanity, perhaps becoming his way of confronting fear, anxiety and mortality, “Fantasy, abandoned by reason, produces impossible monsters; united with her, she is the mother of the arts”.

When we struggle, whether through poverty, a breakup or circumstances beyond our control, we turn to music, art, books, to search for our emotions in someone else, perhaps to gain a deeper level of understanding or connection. Art gave Van Gogh an expression, Munch understanding, and Goya an outlet. Centuries later, their work still allows strangers to feel and empathise with their pain. Perhaps art is the outlet that connects our species.

What art tells us about humanity

When I picture humanity, I see humans dancing to music, painting in the countryside, reading on a dark rainy night, and writing their next novel. I see humans sharing songs, communicating in museums or lying in the fields watching the clouds form shapes. I see humans laughing, crying. I see humans as curious creatures, ones that create to understand the world around them.

Art shows us humans are more than animals trying to survive. Humans are animals trying to understand what it means to be alive. And that’s the beauty of our species; one that creates to find meaning, one that communicates feelings on a deeper level, one that perhaps, creates art to leave a snippet of their personality behind for future generations to witness.

Thank you.

Remember how 2026 was going to be different?

Remember how proud of yourself you were going to be?

Where is that person from six months ago?

Where are you?

Honestly, I get it, I do, it’s hard, I feel the same.

At the start of every year, I demand greatness out of myself; I watch motivational videos, create a spreadsheet, and get to work. But it’s exhausting. I think I’m tired of it. I think everyone is.

I think everyone is burnt out and has too much pride to admit to themselves they need a break. Including myself.

Take the current Substack trends:

On one hand, we have the gurus of Substack telling us to grind our mental health into something productive so we might achieve status and be rewarded with currency.

On the other, we have the gurus of Substack telling us to slow down and find meaning through art, books, coffee and serenity.

I think more people are starting to side with the latter.

So I get it, it’s exhausting.

At the start of the year, like everyone, I was focused on the grind, burning out my mind, but it didn’t fulfil me. In retrospect, I was too focused on the metrics and not enough on the reason why I chose that goal in the first place.

So I burnt out, grew tired of progress and questioned why I do what I do, which naturally led to a hiatus.

During that time, I took time off, focused on the craft of writing and the fundamentals of exercise and fell back in love with my body and mind.

Now I feel at peace.

Now I feel free.

I should have taken a break earlier, but I was too focused on the hustle of getting ahead without really knowing where I was heading.

I have realised now that both grind culture and slow culture are needed to pursue your dreams. In fact, I realise it’s probably best to see them as a seesaw that bounces between both at different times of the year.

Or seasons for that matter.

I suppose this is more of a rambling post than anything, one that tells people it’s okay to take a break to focus on the body and mind.

I think I’ll close with:

I want to pursue something for the sake of being in love with it whilst also appreciating that it brings me one step closer to my childhood dreams.

It’s a lovable grind, one where you’re not focused on metrics, but one where you’re also proud of how far you have come.

Book recommendation for a similar topic:

Oliver Burkeman – Meditations for Mortals.

It’s a book about letting things happen organically rather than forcing it into existence.

New post next week.

The purpose of this article is to show how I set-up my own journal, to provide an example, to highlight benefits of journalling, and to provide tips for beginners.

My Methodology

Title (summary of the page). Date on the right.

Three points to discuss.
Write about each.
Finish the page.
Move on to the next day.

Example

Spring - new beginnings 30th April 2026

Spring. Substack. Sleep.
Spring. Spring is my favourite season; the birds chirping, the flowers blooming, the long-awaited kiss of warmth from the ball of fire in the sky. It is a time of hope, peace and new growth. Mother Nature blesses us with her beauty as the season of winter has come to it’s close. I shouldn’t, but I always look forward to Spring. I hate the winter, I hate the cold, I hate the short sunny days you have in the UK. It’s hard to stay motivated when the skies are cloudy and you haven’t seen the sun in three weeks. I can move countries, I can escape the winter, but would I want to? Probably not, I like the UK, I like the Spring, I like the Summer, just not Winter.

Substack. Subscriber count went from 11 in February to 35 in April. I’ve been focused on notes and comments, making sure to post a note a day and comment on a few people’s notes. Perhaps it’s paying off or perhaps my subscribers are bots. I’ll take anything at this point. I set a goal this year to achieve 100, so I’m just over a third of the way there. I don’t know why I set this goal. I do enjoy Substack but I hate social media. I think social media brings out the vanity in us, so why do I want subscribers on Substack? Will I be worthy of being a writer then? Does it brush my ego? I’m proud of the 35 subscribers though. Well done, Joe.

Sleep. Haven’t been sleeping well recently and I feel groggy today, like a sleep deprived Sim arching their back, lugging themselves around the room. That’s probably an accurate depiction of me. I perhaps made the mistake of having two double espressos today, hoping to relieve some of the sleep deprived symptoms. Did it work? Nope. I crashed in the afternoon. An early night is needed tonight. Hopefully I sleep like a baby. One that isn’t waking up every 10 minutes.

Journalling this way gives you three subheadings to talk about, which in my opinion, makes it easier. I don’t normally separate the paragraphs either as there can be restrictions depending on the size of the journal. I recently started writing these notes on my phone when I’m in bed at night before writing them in the journal the next day. That was a two week phase, but just an idea if you want to remove the tension of directly writing in the journal.

Benefits

Personal archive

You have a physical, historical archive of what you did, how you felt, what your worries were, that cat you stroked, the song you sang, all on a random Tuesday in 2022. You can look at old photos but the descriptions on the page are more special, in my opinion.

Worries disappear

I try to keep my journal positive but there are days when I want to write about something keeping me awake at night, and how this is affecting my mood. I notice when I have the worries on the page, my mind removes all immediate tension and kind of brings me back to reality. Obviously, there are certain stresses that are exceptions but it could be that I’m stressed with something that wasn’t worth being stressed about.

Achievement

It’s a daily effort, it’s hard. When we think of achievement, we think of work, cars, money, but these are all extrinsic to some extent. A consistent journal, in my mind, is intrinsic, something we tend not to tell others about but is one of them silent wins that can boost our confidence knowing we’re proud of something we’ve achieved.

Improved writing

They say to master a skill, you need to practice 10,000 hours. A journal is an act of consistent writing, which forces you to come up with new creative ways to better your craft. Overtime, I found myself using different writing styles, using more metaphors, focusing on grammar. It wasn’t an intentional change; it was where my passion led me.

Improved recall

Journalling forces you to recall what you did on that day, which strengthens the neural connections in the brain and strengthens the ability to recall information. In essence, the more you think and struggle to recall, the stronger the connections become, boosting memory.

Tips

Missing a day

My tip here is to keep writing regardless of how many days you have missed without feeling the need to catch up. Plus, if you miss a week or so, well, your first journal back could be about why you haven’t journalled for a week.

Struggling to find a topic

Treat journalling as a diary until you feel comfortable sharing your mind, your experience, or anything you want to talk about. If you treat journalling as, I did X on X date, you have a solid foundation for staying consistent and slowly building on top of it. Don’t be shy to write about washing the pots or brushing your teeth or playing with your cat, we’re human, our lives aren’t that exciting 90% of the time.

Use the same tools

Have a dedicated pen, journal and potentially a desk to remove any tension that would make it difficult to journal. I liken it to playing an instrument – if you must pull the instrument out before playing, it’s more cognitively challenging than if it was out in the same place already. Having a set pen means you only use that pen for journalling. In a way, it’s a kind of accountability.

Note from the author

I hope I have provided a little sense of guidance on how to begin your journalling adventure as I was just as confused as you before I started my journey. I’m sure you will eventually find your own method and that is perfectly fine as we all have our different traits and personalities.

I believe in you.

Thank you.

Tools I use

Pen: (Amazon) Scriveiner British Racing Green Fountain Pen (Fine Nib) - £47.99

Ink: (Pure Pens) J. Herbin ‘D’ Bottled Ink 10ml - £5.00

Journal: (Etsy store – AvocadoandSpiceUK) A5 Journals - £15.95

Ambitious: having or showing a strong desire and determination to succeed.

You’re ambitious. You set goals, make plans, and dream a future worth living. Meanwhile, your screen time has broken records, your games console finally feels the tips of your fingers, and you’ve put on weight. You look in the drawer, find the note you left to yourself last year, and read how different you’ll be. You haven’t changed; your life hasn’t changed.

You are lazy ambitious.

New Year’s Resolutions

At the start of every year, new resolutions are plastered over your walls. You tell people your goals - how you’ll make X amount of money, how you’ll lose X amount of weight, how you’ll write a 75k word book. You tell, tell, tell. Within weeks, the gym membership burns a hole in your wallet, the notebook stays blank, and the month is almost over. You call it burnout, soreness, impossible. But you’ve slipped. It’s not you. You weren’t meant to achieve anything. You set resolutions and always fail. Lazy ambitious.

Cheap dopamine

You tell people your plans to keep yourself accountable. Look at how excited they are for you. changed person you are. You’ve earned it. You’ve earned the dopamine. Your brain feels good, feels happy. You’ve earned it. That drive you had. Gone. You’ve run out of motivation. You must now disappoint the people you told. Congrats. Who’s the fool now? Lazy ambitious.

Self-help

You read the latest books, consume the podcasts, watch the reels on your phone. You put well-earned money into the $42.3 billion industry, making your favourite gurus rich while they sell you a dream. You love it, consume it, talk about it. You pick up a new strategy, a new morning routine, a new self-help addiction. You’ve fallen into the trap while your notebook gathers dust. Lazy ambitious.

A word of kindness

You spend your free time in guilt, never enjoying the TV show, never enjoying the food you eat, or the walk you just took. You’re not pushing yourself hard enough, and that’s okay. Society tells you to put down your free time and pick up a business idea to get rich. Society tells you you’re lazy, fat, poor. Fine, everyone can do something to better themselves, but it doesn’t need to be so direct or quick. You’re a human after all.

Take the Oliver Burkeman method

Oliver strips back exertion and focuses on the past rather than the future. His philosophy tells you to focus on what you have achieved rather than what you will achieve; releasing dopamine from what’s real rather than what could be. You take a leaf out of his book “Meditations for Mortals,” and you’re no longer lazy ambitious.

Oliver recognises the finitude of the human spirit - it’s okay to pick up the controller, or skip a day at the gym, or eat a takeout. You’ve set goals that you’re still achieving, just at a healthy, human pace that won’t break or belittle you.

They say that people with lazy ambition are the worst. They’re not. They’re still moving, still dreaming, still doing it at their own pace.

This post was written with an ironic edge toward the self-help industry.

Someone who doesn’t paint might not see its purpose, but the artist does. The artist knows that white paint makes the picture brighter, reflective even.

Humans are emotional creatures; we laugh, we cry, and somewhere between the two, we forget the light we carry inside us. We doubt ourselves, believing we have nothing to give in a colourful world. But underneath, behind the darker shades, the white paint still exists, waiting to be used once more.

An artist sees this in everything. He knows when someone else’s canvas needs a touch of light and uses his own paint to brighten their world in ways they never realised was missing.

Some paintings take a lifetime, some paintings a week. Don’t stop painting because today’s paint feels dim. White paint is one of your tools, something others will appreciate on their own canvas.

Make someone’s day, share the white paint and make the world a little brighter.

More than a thousand years later, we still struggle with the same impulses.

This essay looks at how meanings have shifted and whether we now live in an immoral society.

Pride

Old meaning: Self-exaltation that refuses subordination to God. Rebellion against divine order.

Rebellion against the divine order meant a cosmic hierarchy under God. Translated into the modern world, rejection of the conventional career path could still be a sin if the divine order is the social construct we live in. This would imply that entrepreneurship, if we’re basing the divine order as the social construction, would be a cardinal sin.

Pride implies a degree of narcissism, yet we’re told to be proud of our work and to love ourselves. Perhaps pride is only a sin when it doesn’t relate to the proud person.

Envy

Old meaning: Grieving another’s good fortune because it diminishes one’s own glory. Corruption of charity.

In early Christian thought, all glory belonged to God. To diminish one’s own glory, one’s own needs, meant to diminish God. To grieve at one’s fortune meant to resent, not to admire.

In the consumerist world, we see status and significance everywhere. This either blesses us with motivation or leaves us with jealousy. If we’re happy for others, we could argue this is a form of pride. If we resent their success, this would be deemed envy.

If social media encourages envy, is social media not a sin by design?

Wrath

Old meaning: Disorder desire for vengeance. Loss of peace.

Loss of peace implies an imbalance within the spirit. This could be hatred, anger, the thirst for violence. In the modern world, news cycles generate clicks, anger, revenue. This instils vengeance in society, who rightfully protest, who wrongly take it out on others. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, so why do we feel so angry at the world?

Does the media rob us of peace?

Sloth

Old meaning: Sadness or weariness toward spiritual good. Neglect of duty toward God.

Neglect of duty toward God meant the loss of meaning. The modern world has replaced faith in God with faith in productivity, and we no longer pursue spiritual good. Our faith has become our career, our bank, our friends. Our faith is to those we love most ourselves.

If faith has become a metric, can we still be good if we measure it?

Greed

Old meaning: Excessive love of worldly wealth. Distrust in Providence.

Excessive love of worldly wealth, the obsession with possession. Do pensions and savings not fall into the same category? In the modern world, wealth is safety; the ability to provide for our families, the ability to save our families health. We no longer trust providence or peace. We now trust hoarding wealth.

If greed keeps our families safe, is it still a sin?

Gluttony

Old meaning: Excess in eating or drinking beyond need. Overattachment to pleasure.

Eating beyond need, not being satisfied. Greed in its physical form. In the modern world, we no longer fear gluttony. We eat excessively, drink excessively. We eat when we’re bored, stressed, tired. We call it self-care; we call it a rest day. Is that not a sin?

If society produces processed food to feed us, is gluttony being encouraged?

Lust

Old meaning: Disordered desire for sensual pleasure. Misuse of the body’s appetite.

Reduction of purpose through emphasis on pleasure. The disconnection between the body and the mind. Without lust for goals, there is no pursuit. Without lust for partners, humanity dies. We’re told lust is bad yet told to direct it to healthy sources. We’re told lust is a problem but find it in our media.

How can lust be a sin when it is the core of our music industry?

Thoughts

The seven deadly sins were never about punishment, but about imbalance of the mind. Today, each sin hides behind other meanings. Pride becomes confidence, greed becomes safety, sloth becomes self-care.

Perhaps we haven’t become immoral, perhaps we’ve just renamed it.

This was written with the UK in mind, where the Christian Church is in decline.

Thinking through economics alone cannot tell you the answer, but thinking through psychology tells you that higher prices come with the illusion that quality must be better.

If we only focused on economics, the equation above becomes unsolvable. If we look beyond the discipline of economics, we solve the problem. That’s the beauty of thinking across multiple disciplines.

Throughout history, many great people were generalists – Leonardo da Vinci, Benjamin Franklin, Charlie Munger. They borrowed ideas from nature, art, history, philosophy. Yet today, we’re told to specialise in one subject, to master one craft, but also told to diversify our portfolios because one stock is too risky. Somehow, we don’t apply that logic to our thinking.

I see this narrow thinking in my work. On paper, my job is simple; look at numbers, calculate taxes, advise on ways to improve profit. But improving profit is never that simple. I can advise the client to increase prices or reduce labour costs, but what if prices are already high and labour costs are minimum wage? Simple accountancy cannot solve the issue.

This is where multidisciplinary thinking comes in. Take a client’s trucking business that’s struggling with high fuel costs:

Physics: poor tyre pressure and uneven weight distribution wasting fuel

Logistics: are they travelling the most efficient way

Psychology: are drivers rewarded for efficient driving?

Technology: Could statistics track wasted mileage?

When you break the problem into sections, it becomes deeper than just “fuel”. It becomes a web of systems, each that can be cross-checked against the next.

Take some ordinary problems for example:

Dying plants: chemistry (soil PH), meteorology (humidity), logistics (water schedule)

Morning stress: Neuroscience (decision fatigue), logistics (routine), biology (hunger)

Poor exercise: Geography (gym distance), neuroscience (peak hour stress), physiology (poor workout plan not allowing for rest – chest day before shoulders)

Every problem can be broken down into other areas if you’re willing to find it.

Charlie Munger, “No one can know everything, but you can work to understand the big important models in each discipline at a basic level so they can collectively add value in a decision-making process”. He followed that with, “To the man with a hammer, every problem looks like a nail”. And most of us still swing the same hammer.

That being said, humans are very good problem solvers, but we’re also creatures of habit. We glorify thinking outside the box, but we never do it. If we stick to the only area we know, we will never solve the problem. The world isn’t as straightforward as we think it is so we need to incorporate different models of thinking if we want to grow.

It’s the same way that setting long-term goals become more achievable if you break them down into smaller pieces. We learn to recognise patterns that help us move forward.

Book recommendation: Poor Charlie’s Almanack

I buried myself deep in data, self-help, philosophy, everything I thought would sharpen my mind. But the deeper I got, the more it felt like an exercise. Yet, I still pushed through, hoping the next book would solve my problems. In a way, I was searching for the Holy Grail.

But deep down, what I was really looking for was a shift in perspective. Not a perspective built on statistics, but one built through connection, feeling, and emotion. I wanted to feel human. And then I picked up fiction. It softened my mind and slowed me down. It put me in someone else’s shoes and made me feel a little alive.

That’s the contradiction I didn’t see before. One sharpened my mind, the other opened my heart.

Fiction is good for my soul. There’s no waste in that.

Read more fiction. Change your perspective.

Psychology. People want their needs met. Meet them, and they’ll often meet yours. Keep meeting their needs? Watch a relationship compound into a lasting, mutually beneficial relationship. This is particularly important for business.

Fitness. Work out once, you feel good. Work out a few times a week for a year and you witness the physical compounding effect. This also works in reverse - small unhealthy decisions compound over time.

Education. Every book you read, every note you write, every lecture you attend builds connections in the brain that compound across a lifetime. Over time, knowledge transforms into wisdom, revealing itself when you least expect it.

Ethics. Each time you have a moral dilemma and choose the better path, you strengthen your inner character. Over time, you become a person known for integrity in a world that supports convenience over principle. That character is contagious.

Culture. Culture doesn’t shift overnight. One person chooses to be different, someone else copies, and soon everyone else does. That’s compound interest on a societal scale. Society transforms into what you see and know today, all because one person stayed consistent with their actions. It’s true when they say only one person is needed to start a revolution.

These are just a few areas where compound interest applies. In a way, you can see the similarity between consistency and compound interest, almost as if consistency is the formula for transformation. The more consistent you’re being to yourself, your idea, or your goals, the more it compounds and blossoms into something much larger than yourself.

Compound interest shouldn’t just be a principle for economics; it should be a principle for all areas of life instead.

This contradiction is old as time, something those who raised us know all about. They tell us “don’t do as I did”, and criticise us when we don’t listen, labelling us as foolish or reckless. Is this just a part of the human experience? Even Plato recorded Socrates complaining that “children take their elders for fools".

So why do elders criticise the younger generation, despite raising them?

Because every generational clash is, at its core, a clash of contradictions.

The young adapt to change, the old stick to what they know. The old defend what they have built, the young fight for their share. Each generation defines itself against the one before. I was told to chase stability yet told to follow my passion. How can both be true? Maybe they can’t, maybe that’s the point. Contradictions force you to choose, and that choice shapes your inner character.

Contradictions between generations are inevitable. It is those contradictions, and our rebellious nature, that move society forward.

For those who fear standing out from the crowd, just know that people like you make change inevitable. People fear change, yet change is the only constant.

The elder generation will criticise you, but they criticised their own elders too. One day, you too will criticise the generation after. That is the cycle of contradictions.

I thought my goals were simple: write 6,355 words, go to the gym four times a week, and journal every day. But I missed all three targets.

I felt awful knowing I hadn’t hit my goals, but then it struck me, it’s okay to not hit them all at once.

Oliver Burkeman reiterates this in his fantastic book, Meditations for Mortals. Oliver understands that humans cannot fully achieve some of their goals as we simply set too many. He emphasises celebrating small wins instead of beating ourselves up for what we’ve missed. In a way, it’s the opposite to the overly productive mentality we seem to have accumulated in the 21^st century.

A poll by Forbes in 2023 asked how many New Year’s resolutions people were making - 66.5% had three or more goals. That’s more than most people can achieve, especially when you consider many of those goals often require lifestyle changes from day one. So we shouldn’t feel upset for missing targets when we’re still making progress.

Yes, they may take longer to achieve but at least you forget about targets for a little while and enjoy the ride along the way; if you’re too absorbed in deadlines, you may forget to enjoy the short time that we have on this Earth.

Now I can say that I’m proud of the small wins regardless of whether I hit every goal. Each month I grow a little closer to the person my past self wanted me to be.

And that’s all that matters.

To put it into context, the average screen time for an adult is 3 hours 21 minutes and nearly 5 hours for a young adult (15-24). That’s 50 full days, nearly two months of the year. Gone.

Fair enough, we might use our phones an hour a day communicating, on work apps, on emails. But if at least 2 hours of them are spent doom scrolling, then those are days gone forever.

“Well, my phone brings me happiness!” the boy said, feeling the volume buttons on his phone that’s too big to fit in his pocket.

But the happy cost of society looks like:

· Rising anxiety, sadness, stress

· Eroded attention and focus

· Falling productivity in businesses

· Increasing car accidents caused by phones

Days slip away, never to be recouped, all because we check social media and watch the latest videos. It’s a dopamine lottery - we scroll not knowing what’s coming next, eagerly waiting the next hit.

Yet, we don’t care. I, for one, have a goal to read more and that means cutting out screen time. I read for 30 minutes a day but when I compare that to the 3 hours a day spent on my phone, I honestly feel ashamed, which is not how society feels. In society, it’s normal to walk around with them in our hands like a fashion accessory, or stand with our neck arched downwards in public, or strain our pinky finger.

Until we recognise that mobile phones should be tools and not toys, progression as a species will slow down. We need to start reflecting on the society we’ve built and how having instant access to everything good and bad will impact future generations.

We already have the term iPad kid; how much worse can it get?

I would encourage everyone to turn their phone off for a day a week and remember how it feels to be human without technology again. Our brain spent thousands of years developing, only for its basic functions to be zapped by mobile phones.

We are living in a period of modern addiction, and I think there needs to be more awareness around it.

At first glance, it sounds ideal, but what if I told you that technology is already pushing us towards this?

We have food arrive with the click of a button, video games that simulate real life and have every answer we need from our phones. We work from home. We work out from home. Everything we need is at our doorstep. Why go anywhere?

We’re becoming what Nick Bostrom, author of Deep Utopia and Superintelligence, refers to as the “pleasure blob”, although in a more extreme form:

Imagine a world where money doesn’t exist, and our brains are uploaded to a simulation where we’ll live an eternity in computer heaven. Want a new car? Programme created. Want food? Ping. Want to go for a walk? VR in the countryside.

That’s great, right? No, not quite. Algorithms control what we watch as we scroll endlessly, we’ve stopped walking as shopping arrives at our doors, we don’t meet people anymore, as it’s more convenient to communicate through a screen.

We’re already becoming a pleasure blob through technology, and I’m concerned that relying on it too heavily is bad for humanity. They say that too much of anything is bad for you, so why isn’t technology at the forefront of that statement? Because everyone is addicted.

Our dopamine receptors are fried, our sleeping patterns disturbed, and our ability to simply interact with people is becoming worse than ever. We need to take time off and look at life through our own conscious lens instead of a screen that we call our phones. Yes, it’s convenient to have everything at the click of a button but it’s not how life should be lived.

Too much pleasure destroys our drive to find meaning and move humanity forward. Why spend time on something meaningful when we can scroll endlessly?

Every weekend, I turn my phone off and live life as it should be. I don’t need to look at my phone while I’m walking, shopping, in the gym, with my partner. I now spend more time on my hobbies and being present with those around me.

We still have the power to choose a path of meaning. Don’t be a pleasure blob.

Human morality operates like a metronome - it ticks back and forth between competing values. In moments of conflict, each tick represents the tension between personal morals and self-interest, while the pace reflects the pressures and stakes at play. It’s a reflection that our morals are never fixed but always ticking between two opposing values.

For example, imagine a dispute between your boss and a colleague you are close to. Your morals lie with your friend who has been unfairly treated but you are also desperately trying to win a promotion. Do you side with your friend or your boss? You know the right thing to do, but a promotion could improve your life at the cost of your friendship.

Every day, the moral metronome ticks back and forth – giving money to the homeless vs. buying a sandwich for yourself, siding with your boss vs. your friend, sharing mental-health awareness posts on social media vs. ignoring your struggling friend as you don’t want to pester. Life is full of moral contradictions, something that is tested each day.

I’m a firm believer that we should always do what society would deem right rather than ourselves. That could mean feeding the homeless and struggling ourselves for a few hours. If we listened to ourselves all the time, our moral metronome would cater to our self-interest, and self-interests are not always best for us.

The purpose of this essay is to highlight that every decision comes with two sides, and those two sides should be allowed to tick for a while before we draw our conclusion. If we jump straight to a conclusion, we might not be making the right decision.

The moral metronome ticks quietly in the background. Some days it swings fast, some days slow, and some days we need to let it pause, not because it’s broken, but because the stillness helps us decide what’s right and what’s wrong.

I decided to side with my friend and challenge my boss. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly but it was the one that would help me sleep at night. And while it may not lead to a promotion, I’ll always know that I did the right thing. That is what is important.

“Waste no more time arguing what a good man should be. Be one.” – Marcus Aurelius