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This is: On saving the world by So8res, published by So8reson the LessWrong.
This is the final post in my productivity sequence.
The first post described what I achieved. The next three posts describe how. This post describes why, explaining the sources of my passion and the circumstances that convinced a young Nate to try and save the world. Within, you will find no suggestions, no techniques to emulate, no new ideas to ponder. This is a rationalist coming-of-age story. With luck, you may find it inspiring. Regardless, I hope you can learn from my mistakes.
Never fear, I'll be back to business soon — there's lots of studying to do. But before then, there's a story to tell, a memorial to what I left behind.
I was raised Catholic. On my eighth birthday, having received my first communion about a year prior, I casually asked my priest how to reaffirm my faith and do something for the Lord. The memory is fuzzy, but I think I donated a chunk of allowance money and made a public confession at the following mass.
A bunch of the grownups made a big deal out of it, as grownups are like to do. "Faith of a child", and all that. This confused me, especially when I realized that what I had done was rare. I wasn't trying to get pats on the head, I was appealing to the Lord of the Heavens and the Earth. Were we all on the same page, here? This was the creator. He was infinitely virtuous, and he had told us what to do.
And yet, everyone was content to recite hymns once a week and donate for the reconstruction of the church. What about the rest of the world, the sick, the dying? Where were the proselytizers, the missionary opportunities? Why was everyone just sitting around?
On that day, I became acquainted with civilizational inadequacy. I realized you could hand a room full of people the literal word of God, and they'd still struggle to pay attention for an hour every weekend.
This didn't shake my faith, mind you. It didn't even occur to me that the grownups might not actually believe their tales. No, what I learned that day was that there are a lot of people who hold beliefs they aren't willing to act upon.
Eventually, my faith faded. The distrust remained.
Gaining Confidence
I grew up in a small village, population ~1200. My early education took place in a one-room schoolhouse. The local towns eventually rolled all their school districts into one, but even then, my graduating class barely broke 50 people. It wasn't difficult to excel.
Ages twelve and thirteen were rough — that was right after they merged school districts, and those were the years I was first put a few grades ahead in math classes. I was awkward and underconfident. I felt estranged and lonely, and it was easy to get shoehorned into the "smart kid" stereotype by all the new students.
Eventually, though, I decided that the stereotype was bogus. Anyone intelligent should be able to escape such pigeonholing. In fact, I concluded that anyone with real smarts should be able to find their way out of any mess. I observed the confidence possessed by my peers, even those who seemed to have no reason for confidence. I noticed the ease with which they engaged in social interactions. I decided I could emulate these.
I faked confidence, and it soon became real. I found that my social limitations had been largely psychological, and that the majority of my classmates were more than willing to be friends. I learned how to get good grades without alienating my peers. It helped that I tended to buck authority (I was no "teacher's pet") and that I enjoyed teaching others. I had a knack for pinpointing misunderstandings and was often able to teach better than the teachers could — as a peer, I could communicate on a different level.
I started doing very well for myself. I got excellent grades with minimal effort. I overcame my social anxieties...
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