I like the framework you developed for this analysis, Barry. I like the idea of accomplishments plotted over time, and the contrast between the additive view (all that matters is area under the curve) and the narrative view (the shape is important too).
I object to the move towards “all else equal” thinking though, essentially of viewing narrative as a tie-breaker. In general I don’t like this form of reasoning, because it seems like deliberately evading the most interesting issue. (This has come up recently in discussions, including on Facebook, of affirmative action too: the question of whether race and gender can serve as legitimate tie-breakers has always struck me as uninteresting and evasive.)
The most interesting issue seems to be to what extent we are or should be willing to sacrifice area for shape. I.e., are we willing to trade off some accomplishments to ensure that the shape is better, and if so how much? For example, would it ever make sense to hold back on potential easy accomplishments now, so that they instead happen later in life? E.g., I am about to publish a book which I know will be brilliant, would it ever be rational for me to think it’s too early, and I should wait and do it later? Framed that way, the desire to ensure a good shape to one’s accomplishments seems less appealing.
A related issue, illustrated beautifully by many of your examples, is that there’s a lot of luck involved, both in the overall amount of accomplishment and in its shape over time. If so, maybe even if, all else equal, the better career has a better shape, it still might be true that the best thing to do at any given moment is to accomplish as much as possible in that moment. You never know what luck you will have, so you should just always be trying to accomplish as much as possible at any given present moment, and ignore shape. If so, maybe the narrative view is, in an important sense, self-effacing. Echoing Alec Baldwin in Glengarry Glen Ross, we should follow something like ABA: Always Be Accomplishing.
On the other hand, what if the satisfaction you get from your accomplishments lessens over time? More precisely, if I accomplish something at T1, I might get a lot of satisfaction out of that at T1, but less and less as time wears on. If so, the best shape might be to spread out my accomplishments somewhat evenly, maybe a bit like how it can be rational to spread out lottery winnings into regular payments rather than one lump sum.
Anyway, this essay was provocative, and I liked the framework. It made me think through interesting issues in a new way. 👍
It's interesting to me that the bulk of your examples are male actors. Compare this to female actors who traditionally have had an extremely difficult time getting work after age 45. This is changing some now, and it's wonderful to see more middle-aged women doing really good work in Film and Television, but it's still worth noting that there might be gender differences here (and other differences that arise due to forms of systemic and structural discrimination). Women also tend to have less "linear" career narrative arcs, due to things like childrearing and caretaking, not getting the "good" (permanent) jobs, etc. (See also this recent book on why women are fed up: https://share.google/ISFuaYnrcpx81v2EH)
That being said, I take my inspiration from Dr. Ruth, whose long career talking about sex didn't even begin until she was in her 50s.
You're 100% right that if you graphed the career arcs of the totality of male actors and female actors, I'd bet a lot of money that male actors peak later than female actors, for lots of discriminatory reasons. But I also cut out an entire section of this post about athletes peaking, mathematicians peaking, following the curve of bodily development, maturity, and vulnerability to injury, and probably the segment of the brain responsible for abstract mathematics. So there really are careers whose peaks are predictable and earlier in life....there's no reason acting should be that way insofar as there it is not just a beauty contest, I think that's really changing, but it is true that historically, women in far more oppressed eras than today had far later peaks precisely for the reasons you describe, and those also tell great stories, like Laura Ingalls Wilder. Emily Dickinson peaked after she died!
Barry, your framing of “When Should You Peak?” feels too close to the celebrity arc — the rise, the flashbulb moment, and the inevitable fade. But most lives are not lived in that theatre. For we the people, happiness is not a public coronation; it is a private and continuous ascent. The milestones are often unseen by crowds, but no less profound: acts of honor, the pursuit of understanding, love given and received, work done with integrity.
In my seventy years, I have never peaked. Every so-called summit has been only a saddle between higher ranges. Everest still waits, and beyond 珠穆朗玛峰 (Zhūmùlǎngmǎ Fēng) lie horizons we cannot yet imagine. To measure life by a single public climax is to mistake the mountain for the view from one of its ledges.
You, through Hi-Phi Nation, have created a form that marries thought and story — work of a seeker, not a peaker. And the seeker knows there is no final ascent. The optimism of life is life longing for itself, the journey richer than any single view from the top.
So I say: leave celebrity arcs to those who need applause. The rest of us seek. And seek, as it is written, and ye shall find.
I'm not sure I understand the case that you want to peak in your mid-late 50s. Let's grant the point that people in their 40s are too unhappy to make it work (raising teenagers or whatever). Assuming you don't want to die at your peak, then you don't want to peak in your 80s or probably even in your late 70s. But what's wrong with peaking in your 60s or early 70s, like Cruise and Streep?
Very intriguing article! I’ve never been a fan of the ‘mountaineering’ (accomplishment based) view of life, but still think it’s possible to consider interestingness an important value, even without being too concerned about peaks or arcs or even total area under the curve.
Life narratives seem like such slippery things. If they’re created by someone else, they almost inevitably rely on quasi-objective factors like career accomplishments, which may or may not reflect how the person feels about them at the time (as your example with Moby suggests). And if they’re created from the inside, well my life story can vary widely depending on how I choose to spin things. As you say, it’s just one part of the puzzle.
Even so, I think it’s possible to lead a fulfilling and contributory life focused on process rather than goals and ‘satisficing’ rather than maximizing. Perhaps the shape of a life is like happiness, in that it can be thought of as a consequence of pursuing other values, rather than an explicit goal to be sought out in itself. However it’s conceived of, though, good luck in your quest!
Something seems a bit ridiculous about this. Just doing good work that will influence the next generation is rare and satisfying; there is zero reason to care about when it is done.
I like the framework you developed for this analysis, Barry. I like the idea of accomplishments plotted over time, and the contrast between the additive view (all that matters is area under the curve) and the narrative view (the shape is important too).
I object to the move towards “all else equal” thinking though, essentially of viewing narrative as a tie-breaker. In general I don’t like this form of reasoning, because it seems like deliberately evading the most interesting issue. (This has come up recently in discussions, including on Facebook, of affirmative action too: the question of whether race and gender can serve as legitimate tie-breakers has always struck me as uninteresting and evasive.)
The most interesting issue seems to be to what extent we are or should be willing to sacrifice area for shape. I.e., are we willing to trade off some accomplishments to ensure that the shape is better, and if so how much? For example, would it ever make sense to hold back on potential easy accomplishments now, so that they instead happen later in life? E.g., I am about to publish a book which I know will be brilliant, would it ever be rational for me to think it’s too early, and I should wait and do it later? Framed that way, the desire to ensure a good shape to one’s accomplishments seems less appealing.
A related issue, illustrated beautifully by many of your examples, is that there’s a lot of luck involved, both in the overall amount of accomplishment and in its shape over time. If so, maybe even if, all else equal, the better career has a better shape, it still might be true that the best thing to do at any given moment is to accomplish as much as possible in that moment. You never know what luck you will have, so you should just always be trying to accomplish as much as possible at any given present moment, and ignore shape. If so, maybe the narrative view is, in an important sense, self-effacing. Echoing Alec Baldwin in Glengarry Glen Ross, we should follow something like ABA: Always Be Accomplishing.
On the other hand, what if the satisfaction you get from your accomplishments lessens over time? More precisely, if I accomplish something at T1, I might get a lot of satisfaction out of that at T1, but less and less as time wears on. If so, the best shape might be to spread out my accomplishments somewhat evenly, maybe a bit like how it can be rational to spread out lottery winnings into regular payments rather than one lump sum.
Anyway, this essay was provocative, and I liked the framework. It made me think through interesting issues in a new way. 👍
Love this response, so much for me to think about!
Loved this post Barry. Giving us middle aged folks hope 😂
It's interesting to me that the bulk of your examples are male actors. Compare this to female actors who traditionally have had an extremely difficult time getting work after age 45. This is changing some now, and it's wonderful to see more middle-aged women doing really good work in Film and Television, but it's still worth noting that there might be gender differences here (and other differences that arise due to forms of systemic and structural discrimination). Women also tend to have less "linear" career narrative arcs, due to things like childrearing and caretaking, not getting the "good" (permanent) jobs, etc. (See also this recent book on why women are fed up: https://share.google/ISFuaYnrcpx81v2EH)
That being said, I take my inspiration from Dr. Ruth, whose long career talking about sex didn't even begin until she was in her 50s.
You're 100% right that if you graphed the career arcs of the totality of male actors and female actors, I'd bet a lot of money that male actors peak later than female actors, for lots of discriminatory reasons. But I also cut out an entire section of this post about athletes peaking, mathematicians peaking, following the curve of bodily development, maturity, and vulnerability to injury, and probably the segment of the brain responsible for abstract mathematics. So there really are careers whose peaks are predictable and earlier in life....there's no reason acting should be that way insofar as there it is not just a beauty contest, I think that's really changing, but it is true that historically, women in far more oppressed eras than today had far later peaks precisely for the reasons you describe, and those also tell great stories, like Laura Ingalls Wilder. Emily Dickinson peaked after she died!
Barry, your framing of “When Should You Peak?” feels too close to the celebrity arc — the rise, the flashbulb moment, and the inevitable fade. But most lives are not lived in that theatre. For we the people, happiness is not a public coronation; it is a private and continuous ascent. The milestones are often unseen by crowds, but no less profound: acts of honor, the pursuit of understanding, love given and received, work done with integrity.
In my seventy years, I have never peaked. Every so-called summit has been only a saddle between higher ranges. Everest still waits, and beyond 珠穆朗玛峰 (Zhūmùlǎngmǎ Fēng) lie horizons we cannot yet imagine. To measure life by a single public climax is to mistake the mountain for the view from one of its ledges.
You, through Hi-Phi Nation, have created a form that marries thought and story — work of a seeker, not a peaker. And the seeker knows there is no final ascent. The optimism of life is life longing for itself, the journey richer than any single view from the top.
So I say: leave celebrity arcs to those who need applause. The rest of us seek. And seek, as it is written, and ye shall find.
I'm not sure I understand the case that you want to peak in your mid-late 50s. Let's grant the point that people in their 40s are too unhappy to make it work (raising teenagers or whatever). Assuming you don't want to die at your peak, then you don't want to peak in your 80s or probably even in your late 70s. But what's wrong with peaking in your 60s or early 70s, like Cruise and Streep?
Very intriguing article! I’ve never been a fan of the ‘mountaineering’ (accomplishment based) view of life, but still think it’s possible to consider interestingness an important value, even without being too concerned about peaks or arcs or even total area under the curve.
Life narratives seem like such slippery things. If they’re created by someone else, they almost inevitably rely on quasi-objective factors like career accomplishments, which may or may not reflect how the person feels about them at the time (as your example with Moby suggests). And if they’re created from the inside, well my life story can vary widely depending on how I choose to spin things. As you say, it’s just one part of the puzzle.
Even so, I think it’s possible to lead a fulfilling and contributory life focused on process rather than goals and ‘satisficing’ rather than maximizing. Perhaps the shape of a life is like happiness, in that it can be thought of as a consequence of pursuing other values, rather than an explicit goal to be sought out in itself. However it’s conceived of, though, good luck in your quest!
Dr Ruth! She started her call in show in her 50s. Her life before that was also quite remarkable. I highly recommend the Hulu doc about her.
Ah. Someone beat me to it. Well, another cheer for Dr Ruth.
great read - but I will say that perhaps I am not a disinterested reader!
Fwiw, Kant was 57 when the First Critique was published.
The Bryan Cranston of philosophy.
Something seems a bit ridiculous about this. Just doing good work that will influence the next generation is rare and satisfying; there is zero reason to care about when it is done.