True For You

I listened to the recent conversation between Brian Koppelman and Seth Godin during my evening run, and I finally put my finger on the part of their pragmatic approach to getting work done that I can’t hang with.

Early in their discussion, they debate the relative merits of believing Bob Dylan is a genius.

Godin thinks Dylan is a high-level practitioner who got really lucky.

Koppelman thinks Dylan is an artist who operates on a higher-level: a generational talent.

Their conclusion? Believe the truth that works for you. Why?

Because you can hide from doing your own work by telling yourself you’ll never write a song as good as Dylan.

Or because you can hide from your work by getting indignant that Dylan got so lucky and you, who are just as talented, will never get all those breaks.

From their perspective it’s an existential dilemma. We’re confronted with what “is” (Dylan’s voluminous output and public acclaim) and then we have to imbue it with meaning. If that’s the case, the argument goes, why not make sure that the meaning we give it is something that helps us?

The reason I have listened to and read Godin so frequently is because there are elements of truth here: namely that our hearts tend to produce what St. Paul calls “vain imaginations” that further obscure the things we know to be true. We would do well to pay attention to the stories we tell ourselves about the world.

But that’s not the entire story…

  1. Godin and Koppelman relativize the “what helps you” part of their pragmatism in a way that’s difficult to justify. It appears so wise to say, “Well, I got more work done as a result of listening to this guy” but it begs the question: was the work worth doing in the first place? How do you know? Godin and Koppelman leave that work up to the listener too (they’re not advocating that everybody try to become Bob Dylan or even become an “artist” in that sense), but “the see if it works” has an implicit standard (empirical and psychological) that they’re not copping to.
  2. When we get down to “what is”, we confront the truth that St. Paul says we all know: we are creatures made in God’s image. God’s existence is unavoidable, and that means that creation is meaningful. Any narrative we tell ourselves that abandons this truth in the name of “what works” is only another deceitful story, one that doesn’t get better because you produced five movie scripts or manuscripts because you jettisoned the hangups of someone who believes in God.

There are methods for getting work done that are individual. God’s triune nature displays unity and diversity, so I can see the ways in which different approaches

We are all working towards the same goal, however. We were made to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. That’s the standard, not some tally of the work we put out in the world or even our psychological health.

I’m thankful for the conversations Koppelman and Godin have had. They’ve helped me make true distinctions about the world and helped me think with more clarity about the decisions I make as a teacher and writer. Reducing the world to a series of gambits that I judge by what helped me produce my “best work” is ultimately solipsistic. If I want to see reality and do work that matters, that starts by acknowledging God.