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So, I'm going to skip the platitudes, OK? I want this to be a practical commencement address. And I'm going to do my best to tell the truth -- even when it's uncomfortable to say, even when I probably shouldn't say it. Because you're already swimming in half-truths, in people telling you what they think you want to hear. And in this next phase of your life, I promise you, you will encounter more.
I should preface this by saying that the problem I am going to describe involves a bad word -- not the worst word, but a bad word -- though I've made sure that I only have to say it now and then one more time at the end. So if you want to distract any little kids for a second, please do so. One of the greatest threats we face is, simply put, bullshit. We are drowning in it. We are drowning in partisan rhetoric that is just true enough not to be a lie; in industry-sponsored research; in social media's imitation of human connection; in legalese and corporate double-speak. It infects every facet of public life, corrupting our discourse, wrecking our trust in major institutions, lowering our standards for the truth, making it harder to achieve anything.
And it wends its way into our private lives as well, changing even how we interact with one another: the way casual acquaintances will say "I love you"; the way we describe whatever thing as "the best thing ever"; the way we are blurring the lines between friends and strangers. And we know that. There have been books written about the proliferation of malarkey, empty talk, baloney, claptrap, hot air, balderdash, bunk. One book was aptly named "Your Call is Important to Us."
But this is not only a challenge to our society; it's a challenge we all face as individuals. Life tests our willingness, in ways large and small, to tell the truth. And I believe that so much of your future and our collective future depends on your doing so. So I'm going to give you three honest, practical lessons about cutting the BS.
Number one: Don't cover for your inexperience. You are smart, talented, educated, conscientious, untainted by the mistakes and conventional wisdom of the past. But you are also very annoying. Because there is a lot that you don't know that you don't know. Your parents are nodding. You've been annoying them for years. Why do you think they paid for college? So that you might finally, at long last, annoy someone else. And now your professors are nodding.
F. Scott Fitzgerald once said, "Yeah, this should definitely be in 3D."
No, what he said was, "[T]he test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function." That's what you have to do: you have to be confident in your potential, and aware of your inexperience. And that's really tough. There are moments when you'll have a different point of view because you're a fresh set of eyes; because you don't care how it's been done before; because you're sharp and creative; because there is another way, a better way. But there will also be moments when you have a different point of view because you're wrong, because you're 23 and you should shut up and listen to somebody who's been around the block.
The old people are nodding again.
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I'll always cringe remembering those little embarrassing moments when I said something dumb on a conference call, when my inexperience poked through, when I should have been more solicitous of the judgment of those around me. They're a reminder that it's not mutually exclusive to be confident and humble; to be skeptical and eager to learn.
But there is another side to this coin, which brings me to lesson number two: Sometimes you're going to be inexperienced, naïve, untested and totally right. And then, in those moments, you have to make a choice: is this a time to speak up, or hang back?
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Now, lessons one and two can be in tension. And I can't tell you how to strike the balance every time. Though it helps to be very charming. And from my point of view, I'd rather be wrong and cringe than right and regret not speaking up. But the good news is, as long as you aren't stubbornly wrong so frequently that they kick you out of the building, or so meek that everyone forgets you're in the building you'll learn and grow and get better at striking that balance, until your inexperience becomes experience. So it's a dilemma that solves itself. How awesome is that?
Finally, number three: Know that being honest -- both about what you do know, and what you don't -- can and will pay off.
Up until recently, I would have said that the only proper response to our culture of BS is cynicism; that it would just get worse and worse. But I don't believe that any more, and I think this matters for what comes next for you. I think we may have reached a critical turning point.
I'm going to say that word one last time. I believe we may have reached "peak bullshit." And that increasingly, those who push back against the noise and nonsense; those who refuse to accept the untruths of politics and commerce and entertainment and government will be rewarded. That we are at the beginning of something important.
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