Хэнк Грин - A Beautifully Foolish Endeavor

I sat there and thought about that for a moment before I said, “It sounds like you’ve worked with a lot of people like that.”

“Miranda, I’ve been a person like that. And I could be again if I let myself.”

That was a lot of raw Constance Lundgren. It was amazing—it felt almost historic, to hear her open up like this. I wanted to write down every word of it, but I also wanted more information about this lab.

“Do you know anyone who’s working there?” I asked.

“You know I do, why are you asking?”

I didn’t have a good answer.

“Do you really want to do this?” she asked. “You have a lot … a LOT to do in the next few months if you want to defend in the spring, and obsessing over billionaires futzing around in the Caribbean is not going to help that work get done. Plus, I want to see you socializing more. You never come out. We’re doing Grizzly Peak this Friday.”

She was right, I hadn’t been spending time with anyone, and the topic change was uncomfortable for me. I had a hard time reconnecting with my labmates after I’d gotten back. They went out for drinks or karaoke or met up for board games, and I told them “Next time!” every time. I had had friends here before the Carls. But somehow, after I’d come back, I just didn’t feel like I had anything in common with them anymore. It was a kind of culture shock. I felt like I was living some old version of my life.

“You’re right, forget I said anything. Thank you for talking through this with me.”

I absolutely was not going to drop my interest in Peter’s lab, and I think we both knew that. But I let the lie out because it felt like the safest thing to do. And Dr. Lundgren accepted it because what else was she supposed to do?

“It really isn’t any trouble. I know you aren’t wired to recognize it, but your research could be world-changing, and your ambition is being put to great use here. We’re proud to have you.”

She was right: I wasn’t wired to recognize praise. The only thing I could feel was that she was lying to protect my feelings and that nothing I did would matter ever again.

Unless I figured out what they were doing at that lab.

PARTIAL TRANSCRIPT: T HE W ARM S EAT PODCAST WITH BLAKE WOLFF

Blake Wolff:Andy, I talk to a lot of people on this podcast, and I hope you don’t mind if I say something here … A lot of people listen to you, and you have a way of getting to the root of things really fast and, OK, you just do not seem like a twenty-four-year-old.

Andy Skampt:Yeah, you feel like I’m more of a teenager?

BW: You know what I mean.

AS:I guess I had to grow up. I know this isn’t how it actually works, but I think people, if you give them a chance, they grow to fit their fishbowl.

BW:I’m not going to let you get away with that. That’s too easy. There has to be something more to it. Give me something … How did a twenty-four-year-old get the kind of insight you have on other people?

AS:Do you know Hamilton ?

BW:The musical or the founding father?

AS: Both, I guess. There’s a song about halfway through called “The Room Where It Happens.”

BW: “I wanna be in the room where it happens, the room where it happens …”

AS:Exactly. Well, I was in the middle of all of the madness last year, and I mean really … in the middle of it. And I was listening to Hamilton and I heard that song and I realized that, well, not everyone is ambitious enough to want to be the one making the thing happen, but everyone, I think, to some extent wants to be in the room where it happens. They might not want to write their favorite book, or paint their favorite painting, or vote the bill into law, but everyone wants to be in the room. We want to witness it. We want to feel like we are part of these things that, like, really matter.

BW:Hmm.

AS:And I realized that I was in the room . So many people wanted to be me. But it wasn’t really special to me because the room just felt like my room. But that wasn’t the big insight. The real insight was that I still wanted to be in the room where it happens, it was just a different “it.” We all want to be in the room where it happens, we want to be part of the things that matter to us, but no two people have the exact same collection of things that matter. Nowadays, I don’t so much want to be in the room where it happens, but I do really want to help other people choose the right rooms, and help them realize that they really are a part of things that matter. Because when we feel like none of the rooms we are in matter, that’s when we’re really lost.

ANDY

April dying was the best thing that could have happened to my ca reer .

Was it the worst thing that ever happened to me? Yes. Was it the thing in my life that I regretted more than anything else? Also yes.

But!

I also got to be massively respected, well paid, and powerful, and, yes, I liked it. It was also annoying. I felt boxed in by my own brand, and I hated watching people who were more reactionary or radical getting traction with ideas that would totally get me in trouble. And, yeah, I worked a lot. But also I didn’t want to take breaks. I wanted to feel good, and having the world listen to me felt good.

I did everything I could to say useful things without getting myself in hot water. It resulted in tweets like these:

Andy Skampt

@AndySkampt

If you can do it in one human lifetime, it’s not a big enough goal.

293 replies 3.4K retweets 9.3K likes

@AndySkampt

Nothing has ever been done alone, or, if it was, it was immediately forgotten. We’re only here for each other.

104 replies 6.9K retweets 14.8K likes

@AndySkampt

Watching “Pose” on Netflix and it’s amazing. I’m done with antiheroes, I love watching families love each other.

1.3K replies 1.4K retweets 4.7K likes

I was getting comfortable with this persona. But I was also noticing that it worked less and less as time went on. I knew what was getting the most attention on Twitter, and it was angry stuff. But I couldn’t do angry stuff because my audience expected me to make them feel better, not worse.

At the same time, there was plenty to be angry about. The Carls hadn’t ended the housing crisis, or student loans, or medical debt. America still had mass shootings. In fact, with people losing a clear path and the economy losing steam, all of these things seemed worse than ever. I wanted to make things better, and sometimes that meant I wanted to shout hot takes into the void. But I also had no idea if that would actually help.

If I was at the top of my game, I probably would have resented The Book of Good Times coming in to take over my life, but I wasn’t.

My new mass was nothing compared to the gravitational pull of that book. I think I knew that, once I opened it, I was going to lose my agency. There was a part of me that wanted nothing more than that—the simplicity of tumbling down April’s gravity well again, not the complexity of real, important decisions, constant uncertainty, and existential dread.

Down I tumbled! Why not buy $100,000 in a stock I had never heard of?! If you get tens of billions of views, you make tens of millions of dollars. So a hundred grand was a lot, but bizarrely enough, it was no longer a lot .

I did what any self-respecting twenty-something would do. I called my dad, and he told me that I absolutely should not invest in strange unknown stocks. He was appalled at the entire idea. I think he felt a little like he’d failed as a father if I thought that buying stock in a random tiny company was a good idea. I hadn’t even told him the tip was delivered by a book I found in the trash.