The problem is, those who seek wealth unmitigated have personalities and character that a) don’t really understand other people‘s feelings or maybe care and b) have already shown a gobsmacking lack of community or charitable intentions. We got what we got. Y’all will be remembered for this.
Linda — you're right that revealed behavior is the real test, and I won't defend anyone who locks a gate. But I'd push back gently on one thing: I'm not sure it's character so much as perspective. I spent years building the addictive tech I now write about, and I watched myself drift. The barista became scenery, the contractor's name went unlearned, the people using our products quietly turned into "users" to optimize. That drift isn't a missing empathy gene — it's what enough wealth and distance do to almost anyone. Which is actually the hopeful part, because a drift can be resisted, and reversed. A character flaw can't. Remember the park in my story, Windy Hill? Forty-five years ago developers were planning to turn it into private subdivision. Then people formed a nonprofit, bought it, and gave it to everyone — the exact opposite of Martin's Beach. So I don't think "we got what we got." I think we get to decide, one unlocked gate and one remembered name at a time.
A footnote from me, since this story has kept me thinking since I sent it to Ricky.
I was surprised at how good I felt after Paco and I refused to obey a billionaire's rules. The psychologist Martin Seligman — the man who, decades ago, gave us the phrase "learned helplessness" — later wrote a book called The Hope Circuit. Its argument, roughly, is that the original theory had it backwards. Helplessness isn't learned; it's the default. What gets learned, when we're fortunate, is the opposite: the discovery that what we do can matter. Hope is the part that has to be wired in.
That, in the end, is what the stick on the beach was about. Letting Paco off the leash changed not one fact of the litigation. Khosla still owns the road. But it was a small exercise of agency in a place built to make you feel you have none. And I've come to think that's how the circuit gets wired. You don't reason your way out of helplessness. You act your way out, one unremarkable act at a time.
I'd like to know what readers think: where do you still feel a sense of agency these days — and where has it quietly slipped away?
I’m taking a road trip with family this week (including Paco), but I’ll definitely be back with more! Perhaps some observations from the road next time….
The problem is, those who seek wealth unmitigated have personalities and character that a) don’t really understand other people‘s feelings or maybe care and b) have already shown a gobsmacking lack of community or charitable intentions. We got what we got. Y’all will be remembered for this.
Linda — you're right that revealed behavior is the real test, and I won't defend anyone who locks a gate. But I'd push back gently on one thing: I'm not sure it's character so much as perspective. I spent years building the addictive tech I now write about, and I watched myself drift. The barista became scenery, the contractor's name went unlearned, the people using our products quietly turned into "users" to optimize. That drift isn't a missing empathy gene — it's what enough wealth and distance do to almost anyone. Which is actually the hopeful part, because a drift can be resisted, and reversed. A character flaw can't. Remember the park in my story, Windy Hill? Forty-five years ago developers were planning to turn it into private subdivision. Then people formed a nonprofit, bought it, and gave it to everyone — the exact opposite of Martin's Beach. So I don't think "we got what we got." I think we get to decide, one unlocked gate and one remembered name at a time.
A footnote from me, since this story has kept me thinking since I sent it to Ricky.
I was surprised at how good I felt after Paco and I refused to obey a billionaire's rules. The psychologist Martin Seligman — the man who, decades ago, gave us the phrase "learned helplessness" — later wrote a book called The Hope Circuit. Its argument, roughly, is that the original theory had it backwards. Helplessness isn't learned; it's the default. What gets learned, when we're fortunate, is the opposite: the discovery that what we do can matter. Hope is the part that has to be wired in.
That, in the end, is what the stick on the beach was about. Letting Paco off the leash changed not one fact of the litigation. Khosla still owns the road. But it was a small exercise of agency in a place built to make you feel you have none. And I've come to think that's how the circuit gets wired. You don't reason your way out of helplessness. You act your way out, one unremarkable act at a time.
I'd like to know what readers think: where do you still feel a sense of agency these days — and where has it quietly slipped away?
When's your next post coming :)
I’m taking a road trip with family this week (including Paco), but I’ll definitely be back with more! Perhaps some observations from the road next time….