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The idea that evil, liberal, atheist professors are forcing their students to renounce their faith is an extremely longstanding and pervasive fear among conservative evangelical Christians here in the United States. Right-wing evangelicals have been blaming universities and their supposedly evil, liberal, atheist professors for increasing secularization in society since at least the late nineteenth century.The trope of the atheist professor forcing his students to renounce God can be found in political speeches, cartoons, internet memes, and even films. Despite the longstanding prevalence of this idea, however, it is, for the most part, entirely unsupported by evidence.The atheist professor stereotype in the early twentieth centuryTo give an amusing image of just how far back this goes, I have a book in my personal collection titled The Photo-Drama of Creation that was printed in 1914. That book has this illustration on page 89, depicting a college professor as the literal Devil himself, teaching a student one-on-one, with the caption “COLLEGES TEACHING HIGHER CRITICISM”:ABOVE: A striking image from an old book I have in my collection (Note: This particular image of the illustration was taken from the version of the book on Archive, not from my personal copy.)In a speech at the University of Wisconsin–Madison on 5 May 1921, the Democratic politician and orator William Jennings Bryan (lived 1860 – 1925), a progressive populist who was regarded at the time as a member of the far left, famously denounced public universities for taking public funds and teaching evolution, which Bryan considered to be a vile, atheistic doctrine, to their students, thereby indoctrinating students into atheism against their own parents’ wishes. He proclaimed:“Our classrooms furnish an arena in which a brutish doctrine tears the pieces the religious faith of young men and young women; parents of the children are cordially invited to witness the spectacle.”In the speech, Bryan went on to demand that professors must stop teaching evolution and return to traditional Protestant theology as the basis of all higher education. Bryan also demanded that President Edward A. Birge of the University of Wisconsin be required to sign a statement specifically affirming that he did indeed believe that the Earth was created by God in seven days exactly as described in the Book of Genesis, that Jesus Christ was born of a virgin, and that all the miracles described in the Bible were historically true, in order to prove that he was not an atheist and that he was indeed morally qualified to serve as the president of a university.Ironically, President Birge was not at all an atheist in any sense, but rather a devout Protestant who simply believed that science and religion could coexist. Birge actually accused Bryan of inadvertently promoting atheism by promoting the idea that science contradicted traditional Protestantism.ABOVE: Photograph of Edward A. Birge, the president of the University of Wisconsin whom William Jennings Bryan said needed to sign a paper saying he believed in the Genesis creation story and all the miracles recorded in the Bible in order to prove himself morally qualified to be president of a universityModern examples of the atheist professor memeThere are countless memes and urban legends that have circulated on the internet about atheist professors supposedly forcing their beliefs on their students. For instance, here is one version of the urban legend from the internet:“This is a true story of something that happened just a few years ago at USC. There was a professor of philosophy there who was a deeply committed atheist. His primary goal for one required class was to spend the entire semester attempting to prove that God couldn’t exist. His students were always afraid to argue with him because of his impeccable logic. For twenty years, he had taught this class and no one had ever had the courage to go against him. Sure, some had argued in class at times, but no one had ever ‘really gone against him’ (you’ll see what I mean later).”“Nobody would go against him because he had a reputation. At the end of every semester, on the last day, he would say to his class of 300 students, ‘If there anyone here who still believes in Jesus, stand up!’ In twenty years, no one had ever stood up. They knew what he was going to do next. He would say, “because anyone who does believe in God is a fool. If God existed, he could stop this piece of chalk from hitting the ground and breaking. Such a simple task to prove that he is God, and yet he can’t do it.” And every year, he would drop the chalk onto the tile floor of the classroom and it would shatter into a hundred pieces. The students could do nothing but stop and stare. Most of the students were convinced that God couldn’t exist. Certainly, a number of Christians had slipped through, but for 20 years, they had been too afraid to stand up.”“Well, a few years ago, there was a freshman who happened to get enrolled in the class. He was a Christian, and had heard the stories about this professor. He had to take the class because it was one of the required classes for his major and he was afraid. But for 3 months that semester, he prayed every morning that he would have the courage to stand up no matter what the professor said or what the class thought. Nothing they said or did could ever shatter his faith, he hoped.”“Finally the day came. The professor said, ‘If there is anyone here who still believes in God, stand up!’ The professor and the class of 300 people looked at him, shocked, as he stood up at the back of the classroom. The professor shouted, ‘You FOOL!! If God existed, he could keep this piece of chalk from breaking when it hit the ground!’ He proceeded to drop the chalk, but as he did, it slipped out of his fingers, off his shirt cuff, onto the pleats of his pants, down his leg, and off his shoe. As it hit the ground, it simply rolled away, unbroken.”“The professor’s jaw dropped as he stared at the chalk. He looked up at the young man and then ran out of the lecture hall. The young man who had stood up proceeded to walk to the front of the room and share his faith in Jesus for the next half hour. 300 students stayed and listened as he told of God’s love for them and of his power through Jesus.”To be very clear, this story is an internet urban legend; it is not true at all and the story itself is wildly implausible. (For instance, a real atheist philosophy professor would consider the idea of spending an entire semester trying to disprove the existence of God a complete waste of time and he would not be so stupid as to propose a dropped piece of chalk as a test of God’s existence.)There are many other versions of this same legend found on the internet. In some versions of the story, the brave Christian student who stands up to the evil atheist professor turns out to be the young Albert Einstein. (No, really! I am not joking! Here is the article from Snopes debunking it.)ABOVE: Photograph of the famous physicist Albert Einstein. According to a popular internet urban legend, one of Albert Einstein’s hobbies as a young man was apparently humiliating atheist professors.The atheist professor myth in moviesIn 2014, Pure Flix Entertainment, a conservative, evangelical Christian film company, adapted the popular internet urban legend about the brave Christian student standing up to the evil atheist professor into a film, God’s Not Dead, about a heroic undergraduate student who stands up to his evil atheist philosophy professor.In the film, Professor Radisson demands that all students in his class must sign a paper saying that there is no God in order to pass the class. Then, Josh Wheaton, a student, refuses to sign the paper. Professor Radisson gives Josh twenty minutes at the end of the first three lectures to argue for the existence of God. In the last session, Josh confronts Professor Radisson and asks him “Why do you hate God?” Radisson goes totally ballistic, admitting that he hates God because God let his mother die. The class goes over to Josh’s side. The movie ends with Radisson dying in a car crash and converting to Christianity with his dying breath.It is an objectively horrible film in every way. Its portrayal of academia is totally wrong. The acting is terrible, but the writing is even worse. It was universally panned by critics, but it was hugely financially successful nonetheless because it appealed to many conservative Christians on an ideological basis. That summary of the film I just gave should hopefully give you an impression of what many American conservatives think about higher education.ABOVE: Image of Kevin Sorbo as the evil atheist Professor Radisson in the 2014 Christian film God’s Not Dead, which was universally panned by critics, but was wildly financially successful nonethelessParodying the evil atheist professor memesThe memes about the evil atheist professor are so pervasive that they have even been parodied. The most famous parody is one that apparently originated on 4chan in around 2011 that reads as follows:“A liberal Muslim homosexual ACLU lawyer professor and abortion doctor was teaching a class on Karl Marx, a known atheist.”“’Before the class begins, you must get on your knees and worship Marx and accept that he was the most highly-evolved being the world has ever known, even greater than Jesus Christ!’”“At this moment, a brave, patriotic, pro-life Navy SEAL champion who had served 1500 tours of duty and understood the necessity of war and fully supported all military decision made by the United States stood up and held up a rock.”“’How old is this rock?’”“The arrogant professor smirked quite Jewishly and smugly replied ‘4.6 billion years, you stupid Christian’”“‘Wrong. It’s been 5,000 years since God created it. If it was 4.6 billion years old and evolution, as you say, is real… then it should be an animal now’”“The professor was visibly shaken, and dropped his chalk and copy of Origin of the Species [sic]. He stormed out of the room crying those liberal crocodile tears. The same tears liberals cry for the ‘poor’ (who today live in such luxury that most own refrigerators) when they jealously try to claw justly earned wealth from the deserving job creators. There is no doubt that at this point our professor, DeShawn Washington, wished he had pulled himself up by his bootstraps and become more than a sophist liberal professor. He wished so much that he had a gun to shoot himself from embarrassment, but he himself had petitioned against them!”“The students applauded and all registered Republican that day and accepted Jesus as their lord and savior. An eagle named ‘Small Government’ flew into the room and perched atop the American Flag and shed a tear on the chalk. The pledge of allegiance was read several times, and God himself showed up and enacted a flat tax rate across the country.”“The professor lost his tenure and was fired the next day. He died of the gay plague AIDS and was tossed into the lake of fire for all eternity.”“Semper Fi”Many other parodies based on this template have also been created. My personal favorite is the “Christian philosopher” version that originated on r/RoughRomanMemes, but I won’t quote that version here.ABOVE: Image of the original parody version of the atheist professor storyDebunking the atheist professor mythDespite how obsessed right-wing conservatives seem to be with it, this whole notion that atheist professors are constantly trying to destroy young people’s faith is a pure urban legend. As far as I am aware, there has never been a single reliably documented case of a college professor ordering all his students to sign a paper saying they do not believe in God in order to pass his class. In fact, the idea that a professor would demand such a thing is frankly ridiculous for several reasons.First of all, atheists generally don’t tend to care very much about what other people believe. Very few atheists are at all interested in converting other people to atheism. Furthermore, most people who become professors do it because they are genuinely obsessed with the subject they teach—not because they think it would be fun to use their position as a professor to impose atheism on their students.In other words, a real atheist philosophy professor would most likely see trying to convert their students to atheism as a waste of valuable class time that could be better spent teaching their students about philosophy.Secondly, if, for some reason, an atheist professor did order all their students to sign a statement that they do not believe in the existence of God, that would be in complete violation of the laws governing public state universities. Most notably, Title IX explicitly protects students from discrimination on the basis of religion. A professor forcing students to say that God is dead would definitely qualify as a form of religious discrimination. Any professor who ordered all their students to sign a statement saying that they did not believe in God would be immediately fired.Third and finally, believe it or not, a large plurality of university professors are actually theists. Here’s excerpt from an article published in summer 2007 in Harvard Magazine discussing a study that was conducted on faculty beliefs on religion:“Last spring, in a survey of 1,500 professors (from dozens of fields, working at community colleges, four-year colleges, and elite research universities, denominational and otherwise), Gross and a colleague, Solon Simmons of George Mason University, asked about their respondents’ political and social views. They found that more than half of the academics believe in God and less than a quarter are either atheist or agnostic.”“The numbers surprised them, ‘particularly given that religion is not something that most professors talk about too much with their peers,’ says Gross. ‘I think it’s something that most academicians think of as a private matter, something that doesn’t have much of a place in departmental discussions, or in research.’ (Though comparatively low, the percentage of nonbelievers in academia is still much higher than the percentage of self-described nonbelievers found among the general public. That figure is only about 7 percent, according to the nationwide General Social Survey, issued by the National Opinion Research Center at the University of Chicago.)”“Just as surprising to the researchers was the range of belief across institutions and fields of research. Although nearly 37 percent of professors at elite research schools like Harvard are atheist or agnostic, about 20 percent of their colleagues have ‘no doubt that God exists.’ At community colleges, in contrast, 15 percent of professors are atheist or agnostic, and 40 percent believe in God. These differences exist because of professors’ backgrounds and inclinations, says Gross. Professors who come from higher socioeconomic classes and are drawn to research over teaching or service—characteristics more common among academics at elite institutions—tend to be less religious.”“A professor’s field of research or discipline is also predictive, he adds: psychologists and biologists are most likely to be nonbelievers (61 percent are atheist or agnostic), followed by mechanical engineers, economists, and political scientists. The most likely believers are professors of accounting (63 percent have no doubt that God exists), followed by professors of elementary education, finance, art, criminal justice, and nursing.”The study described in this article is not an aberration. Surveys consistently find that a significant plurality of college and university professors are theists.Even among scientists, surveys consistently find that belief in God is surprisingly high. A survey conducted by Pew Research Center in 2009 found that 33% of scientists said they believed in the existence of God. Eighteen percent of scientists said they didn’t believe in God, but they did believe in “a universal spirit or higher power.” Finally, only 41% of scientists said they did not believe in God or “a universal spirit or higher power.”Surveys like the ones described above clearly demonstrate that the popular stereotype of professors and other intellectuals as militant atheists who hate Christians is not accurate at all.ABOVE: Chart from Pew Research Center showing that, in 2009, roughly 33% of scientists said that they believed in the existence of GodMy personal experience as a university studentI am currently a student at Indiana University Bloomington, which is one of those public state universities that conservative evangelicals seem to be so terrified of. Not once have I ever heard of a real professor at my university trying to force anyone to give up their religious beliefs. Indeed, I genuinely have no idea what religious beliefs most of the professors I have had have held, since almost none of them have talked about their own religious beliefs at all.Here is an detailed overview of everything all my professors have said about religion over the course of my time in college that I can remember:[Edit 4/25/2020: For the sake of anonymity, I have removed all professors’ names and replaced them with numbers.]Professor 1 was the instructor for a mathematics class I took the first semester of my freshman year. He never mentioned religion at all.Professor 2 was the instructor for both semesters of Ancient Greek that I took my freshman year. One day before class early on in the first semester, he made fun of Indiana laws prohibiting the sale of alcohol during certain hours on Sundays. On this same occasion, he mentioned that he was “raised in a fairly nondenominational Baptist home.” At another point later on in the semester, he joked that the passage in Greek that we were reading in our workbooks sounded “like a Baptist sermon.” He later mentioned during a casual conversation towards the beginning of the second semester that he currently attended the Unitarian Universalist Church with his wife and children.Professor 3 was the instructor for both semesters of Latin that I took my freshman year. She sometimes talked about ancient Roman religion, but she never mentioned contemporary religion at all.Professor 4 was the professor for a linguistics class I took the first semester of my freshman year. He mentioned on one occasion that he was Jewish. On a separate occasion, he mentioned singing Hanukkah songs with his mother. On another occasion, while we were learning about the relationship between psychology and linguistics, he gave a lecture in which he quoted the Book of Psalms 137:5–6, claiming (rather tendentiously in my opinion) that it was an accurate description of the effects of a stroke on the left side of the brain.Professor 5 was the professor for an anthropology class I took the first semester of my freshman year. During a lecture about Charles Darwin and the development of modern understanding of evolution, she described herself as an agnostic, but emphasized that many people of faith accept evolution and that accepting evolution does not require a person to be irreligious. She also mentioned that her younger brother is a minister.Professor 6 was the professor for a psychology class I took the second semester of my freshman year. She never mentioned religion at all.Professor 7 was the professor for an ancient Greek culture class I took the second semester of my freshman year. During the first lecture, he briefly mentioned that one of the issues dealt with in ancient Greek literary works that is still relevant today is “the role of the Divine in our lives.” He never mentioned contemporary religion after that. To this day, I still have no idea what his religious affiliation is.Professor 8 was the professor for a philosophy class I took the second semester of my freshman year. After explicitly being asked by a student why we had not talked more about souls in class, she replied, “Well, in order to really entertain the idea of a soul, you first have to accept substance dualism and there aren’t many substance dualists nowadays, so souls don’t usually get talked about much among contemporary philosophers.” This was the only time she really talked about religion that I can recall.Professor 9 was a professor for a history class I took the first semester of my sophomore year. During a conversation in class in which we were talking about how historians need to put aside their own opinions and be as objective as possible, he mentioned that, while he was working on his book The Unfinished Bombing: Oklahoma City in American Memory, which was about the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing, he came across “some religious materials” that he personally found “really distasteful.” He said that there were a lot of people saying that the children who had survived the bombing had been spared by God for a special purpose. He responded to this by saying, “What about the children who didn’t survive? Is that supposed to mean that God didn’t care about them?” Nonetheless, he said that he put these objections aside, because he knew it was his job to faithfully record what had happened without passing judgement. I still don’t know what his own religious affiliation is.Professor 10 was a professor for a classical drama class I took the first semester of my sophomore year and an ancient Greek literature class I took the second semester of my sophomore year. At one point in my classical drama class, we were having a discussion that dealt with ancient Greek religion and he happened to mention that certain aspects of ancient Greek religion have survived in contemporary Greek Orthodoxy, noting that, when he went to Greece, he saw that, when you walk into a church, it is just filled with icons of saints and other holy figures and there are all these people venerating them—just like the ancient Greeks worshipped images of their gods. He also mentioned that he was told when he was studying archaeology, “If you want to find an ancient temple, the best place to look is underneath a church.” (Incidentally, these are both subjects that I wrote about in this article from April 2020.) He never said anything about his personal views on religion in class.Professor 11 was the instructor for both semesters of Latin that I took during my sophomore year. She sometimes talked about ancient Roman religion, but she never mentioned contemporary religion at all.Professor 12 was a professor for an Ancient Greek class I took the first semester of my sophomore year. He sometimes talked about ancient Greek religion, but he never mentioned contemporary religion at all. I have no idea what religious affiliations he may or may not have.Professor 13 was a professor for a class about classical art and archaeology that I took the first semester of my sophomore year. She talked fairly extensively about ancient Greek and Roman religions and how ancient peoples’ religious ideas were reflected in their art, but I don’t remember her ever talking about contemporary religion. She certainly did not talk about her own religious affiliations (or any lack thereof).Professor 14 was the professor for an American history class I took the first semester of my sophomore year. During a lecture towards the very beginning of the semester about western European culture prior to the discovery of the Americas, she described western Europe during the Early Modern Period as “Christian, sometimes ferociously so.” She went on to note that, in many places in western Europe during many time periods, if you were not a Christian, you had to ask permission from the government to live there.Professor 15 was a professor for a class about the history of the Roman Empire that I took the second semester of my sophomore year. He talked extensively about ancient Roman religions, including Judaism and Christianity in the Roman Empire. He sometimes made fairly neutral comparisons between ancient religions and present-day religions. He said that, in the earlier Roman Empire, Christians were persecuted, often quite brutally, but, in later times, they themselves became the persecutors. In a video lecture about early Christianity in the Roman Principate late in the semester he happened to mention offhand that he was a Christian himself.Professor 16 was the professor for a class about the Byzantine Empire I took the second semester of my sophomore year. He talked extensively about Christianity in the Byzantine Empire. He also talked about the Arab conquests of the large parts of the Byzantine Empire in the seventh century AD and interactions between the Byzantine Empire and various Islamic societies. He at one point assigned us to have an in-class debate about whether the use of icons is compatible with Christianity, using the arguments that were made in the Byzantine Empire during the period of iconoclasm. Students were assigned to argue for one side or the other. The purpose of the debate was to help students understand the arguments that were posed both in favor of and in opposition to the iconoclast movement during this period of Byzantine history.Professor 17 was the professor for a class about the history of ancient Sparta that I took the second semester of my sophomore year. He talked extensively about the role of religion in ancient Sparta. The only time he ever talked about contemporary religion that I can recall was when we were talking about the inaccuracies in the portrayal of ancient Sparta in the movie 300. He talked about how the film inaccurately portrays the Spartans and Leonidas in particular as being irreligious when, in fact, the ancient Spartans were known for their religious piety. He seemed rather annoyed by this decision by the filmmakers to portray the Spartans in this manner and he said, “I think this may be because in our own society, most people either aren’t religious at all or, if they are religious, they don’t believe in the Greek deities, so the filmmakers decided this would be a way to portray ancient Sparta that would give it a more contemporary resonance.”Professor 18 was a professor for an Ancient Greek class I took the second semester of my sophomore year. At one point towards the beginning of the semester he referenced the Biblical quotation “Consider the lilies of the field how they grow” as an example of grammatical prolepsis. He obviously got this example, though, from page 683 of Herbert Weir Smyth’s standard work on Ancient Greek grammar, A Greek Grammar for Colleges. He commented immediately after using this example, “Don’t ask me anything about the Bible because I don’t know anything about the Bible.” He never said whether he had any religious affiliation, but I would guess from his comment about not knowing much about the Bible that he probably isn’t a Christian.Again, this is a complete list of all the public statements pertaining to religion that I can remember any of the professors that I have had so far having made in class. A couple of the professors on this list have made offhand remarks about their religious beliefs to me in private conversations, but I have not included those statements on this list because they were made in private to me personally and they were not made during class.Not once have I ever had an instructor say that anyone had to sign a piece of paper saying that God did not exist in order to pass a class. Indeed, not once have I ever had an instructor say that God objectively does not exist, that anyone who believes in God is stupid, or anything even remotely along those lines.In fact, of the instructors I have had so far, only four have explicitly stated their religious identities in class at all. Of those four, three of them were theists. Only one professor openly admitted to being irreligious in class, but the one who did admit to being irreligious explicitly made a point to tell us that we did not have to agree with her about religion.Clearly, in my experience at least, professors at public state universities are not in any way compelling students to abandon their religious beliefs.(NOTE: I have also published a version of this article on my website titled “No, Public Universities Aren’t Dominated by Evil Atheist Professors Seeking to Destroy Students’ Faith.” Here is a link to the version of the article on my website.)

# Thinking- I spent a year forcing myself to write exclusively in e-prime, which is a variant of English in which you're not allowed to use any form of the verb 'to be,' so this sentence is forbidden (because I've used 'is' twice). I allowed myself to use to-be when quoting other people. And my rule was that my writing couldn't seem awkward. If readers could sense something clumsy in my prose, I was doing it wrong.This was very hard at first, but it gradually got easier, and more than any other thinking tool, it profoundly changed my mindset. It also improved my writing, making me better at choosing more descriptive verbs.There's a lot of philosophical literature about e-prime, but, briefly, it forces you to make a mental distinction between things that actually exist (physical traits, people performing actions) and invented human categorizations. "Fred is gay" is an example of the latter. Even if you examine him with a powerful electron microscope, you won't find any gay. What's actually true is that Fred feels attraction to men. Fred has sex with men. Fred calls himself "gay." Etc. E-Prime - Wikipedia- My goal in discussions about ideas is to be as clear-thinking as possible. Over the years, I've kept a journal of the biases, blunders, and conversational habits that muddle me up: Marcus's Rules Of Order For Himself.The there are two "hacks" here. One is to read through my list or rules and apply any that are helpful to you. The other is to make your own list--one aligned with your conversational goals.- I socialize ideas: I'm convince that all sorts of processes in my brain--processes crucial for learning--come online when I socialize. And that's true even though I'm a shy introvert on the autism spectrum. So I don't assume I understand something unless I've explained it--or talked it through--with someone else.If I can't do that, I will often write an email to a friend, explaining the idea. I won't actually send the email, but just going through the process of mentally explaining the idea to an actual person helps clarify it in my mind (often exposing the gaps in my understanding).Who I'm writing to seems to have an effect. It's different explaining things to a co-worker than to my mom. Both can be useful. If I have time, I explain the same idea to someone in the field and someone outside it.- Along the same lines, if I'm trying to learn a complex idea, I try to hear it from three different sources, e.g. a book, a blog, and a youtube video. Or even three different books. The key is that they must each be written by a different person. When my brain realizes that multiple people are telling me the same thing, it tags the information as "important."- Psychology books are never about "people." They're always about me. I am a human. I have a human brain. I am not an exception. If I read a book like "Thinking Fast and Slow" and say "Ah! That explains why everyone around me is so stupid," I'm doing it wrong. If I read about a cognitive bias, I'm reading about my cognitive bias.- I dispense with "they should..." and "why should I be the one who has to ...?" thinking. It's always a waste of my time. "They're the ones who should be cleaning up around here!" "Why should I be the one who talks to management?" The real question is am I the one who has to talk to management? If so, then I need to do it. If not, then I need to get someone else to do it. "Should" is just noise.The word "should" is useful in ethics and problem-solving, but I consider it a code smell. I try to examine all casual uses of it, to make sure they're coherent and practical.If, for instance, a long conversation centers on how people "should" respond to accusations of sexual harassment, I ask myself what we're actually talking about. Do we personally know anyone who has been accused? Are we in a position to advise him how to respond? If not, why are we discussing this using "should" language?I'm not saying it's a pointless discussion. But it may be worth clarifying what, exactly, we're talking about and examining the language we're using. Maybe there's a way we could be clearer, both in thought and expression. Are we displaying our ethical stances to each other? Are we trying to work out how we feel? Are we suggesting some sort of practical action, like boycotting a certain actor's films if he doesn't respond in the right way? What will be the result of us all agreeing on how he "should" respond?(This Spockish examination of words isn't always welcome in casual conversations. That's fine. It can be an internal thought process, just to help me clarify things for myself. I don't need to impose it on others.)- I never try to push through mental fatigue. When the fog descends, it's time to take a break, even if you "can't spare the time." You simply must. It seems counter-intuitive, but a break will help you get things done faster, because you will resume with a recharged brain, not one running at reduced capacity. I've learned to quit the moment I feel fog coming on.I say "quit," not "take a break," because the idea of a break implies a temporary pause, with the idea of resumption hovering on the horizon. I find it useful to mentally come to a complete halt and switch to doing something radically different. That fact that I'll resume in ten minutes is, for now, immaterial.- I mentally play beyond all reasonable boundaries: "One way we could solve the problem is to build a star ship..." This keeps my mind limber, playful, and open to off-the-wall ideas that might actually be useful. If I'm in change of a brainstorming session, I encourage this sort of nuttiness, and if I'm not hearing absurd ideas from people, I take it as a sign that the group is being too mentally conservative.- I ask "What is my one goal?" I ask myself that in a variety of situations, because it's easy to unconsciously have multiple goals, and they tend to conflict with each other or blunt each other's effectiveness.When I introspect, I usually discover that I have a practical/mechanical goal and a social goal, e.g. I want to get the application coded and I also want to impress my boss. The latter is messing up the former, because, knowing my boss likes things done fast is compelling me to rush. Which is the most important goal? To code things correctly or to get it done fast? I need to pick one. When I say I can do both, I am almost always wrong.If I can't pick one (and this conflict comes up all the time), it may be a sign that I need to make some life changes (talk to my boss, look for another job, etc).Part of this is about making a life decision to be the sort of person who works on one goal and sees it through. That will lead to certain negative consequences, but it will also open a lot of doors.Another example: I'm arguing with a Facebook friend about politics. What is my goal? To convince him of something? To learn from him? To show off my knowledge? To virtue signal? To vent my anger?Trying to serve all of these goals at once creates a tangle of incoherence and, generally, a lack of satisfaction.In arguments, goals can unconsciously shift very fast. (You can start off wanting to learn and then slip into wanting to win.) So I find it useful to continually step back and ask "What is my one goal?" It's okay for it to change, but if it has, that's worth knowing. What's interesting is when I realize "I don't really have a goal." That can radically shift my behavior. "Oh, good. I don't need to argue any more." I was just operating on autopilot.- I've learned to be skeptical about my memories and the feeling of knowing. I mean "skeptical" literally. I don't discount memories or confidence. I just assume they might be erroneous or irrational.Just because I remember something--even clearly or strongly remember it--that doesn't mean it's true. And just because I'm sure something is true, that also doesn't mean it's true. The only way I can be sure is to reason through it and/or collect evidence.A ramification of this is that in an argument, I am not allowed to say "No! You're wrong. I remember clearly what happened..." It's hard to give that up, but I find it useful to do so if my goal is honesty and clear-thinking.- After reading a lot of books about cognitive bias (like "Predictably Irrational") I started wondering how many mistakes I made each day. My focus was on any blunders more profound than a typo or mislaying my keys for ten seconds.So I started keeping what I call a "Mistake Diary." Whenever I blunder (inadvertently starts an argument, miscommunicate, create a non-syntactical bug in code, forget to turn the stove off, etc), I make a note of it.I was surprised to discover that I make dozens--sometimes hundreds--of mistakes every day. And I assume this is the tip of the iceberg. These are just the ones I notice, though keeping the journal has made me notice more than I used to.This might be a bad idea for someone with low self-esteem, but for me it's been really useful. I've uncovered all sorts of patterns in my thinking and have been able to correct for some biases and common errors. I never look at it with an eye of blaming or berating myself (I assume that if everyone kept such lists, they'd be as long as mine). It's a to-do for self-improvement.- I stole this from Penn Jillette: once each week, for one hour, I sit by myself with only a pen and a notebook and no distractions. No Internet! I also have no agenda. If I just sit there the whole hour, that's fine. (I don't even start with the notebook open. It's just on the table next to me.) If something occurs to me, I write it down. Whatever mentally happens, happens. It's extraordinary what bubbles up from the depths of my unconscious when I've given it permission to just be.- Once a month or so, I grab a sample of my writing and circle anything that is an assumption--anything that's not reasoned through or based on evidence. This isn't with the goal of eliminating assumptions. It's just to notice them. Here's an example using text from above, with double-brackets used as circles:"I can imagine this being [[a psychologically bad idea for people with low self-esteem]], but for me [[it's been really useful]]. I've uncovered all sorts of patterns in my thinking and [[have been able to correct for some biases]] and common errors. I [[never]] look at it with an eye of blaming or berating myself (I assume that [[if everyone kept such lists, they'd be as long as mine]]). It's a to-do list for self-improvement."Some of that stuff may be reasoned or partially reasoned, but I'm liberal with my circles. If I suspect something might be just a hunch, I circle it. I'm often surprised by how many things I think of as established facts are surmises.- I assume all aesthetics are subjective. All. There's no point in my arguing that Book A as better than Book B. I may be grappling towards a meaningful idea (maybe the first book has been more influential than the second), but "better" is sloppy. Better to whom? Why is that person, group, or tradition the boss of everyone? Better for what purpose?- At least once a week, I take one of my ideas and try to examine all its foundations until I reach a bedrock of axioms. "It's wrong to kill. Why? Because killing harms people. Okay, but why is it wrong to harm people? ..." Eventually, I will reach "It just is!" "Because I say so!" or "I don't know."- I repeatedly ask myself "What is the context?" and I look for missing contexts."History matters!" Matters to whom? For what?"We need to try harder to get along?" Why? What's the goal? How will life be different if we do get along? What problems are being caused by us not getting along.I avoid pinning ideas on vague groups of people: "Everyone is watching 'Game of Thrones.'" Who is "everyone"? Not everyone on Earth. Who I am talking about? Most Americans? Most HBO subscribers?- My number-one question about all my ideologies and systems is "What are the negative side effects?" If I can't say what they are--or at least puzzle over what they might be--I'm not thinking clearly, and I'm in danger of dogmatism.For instance, if I'm a liberal, what are the pitfalls or downsides to liberalism? It doesn't count to say "Well, there are always bad apples--there are corrupt liberal politician and there are opportunists..." What are the downsides to liberalism when it's practiced as perfectly as possible? What problems does liberalism itself cause? It also doesn't count to say "Of course it's not perfect, but compared to the alternatives..." Obviously, since I'm a liberal, I think it's better than the alternatives, but what are the problems with my ideology?If I can't list any--or even think clearly about what they might be--I've probably fallen into dogmatic thinking. If I really think liberalism is perfect, that it will cause no serious problems, then I need to explain how it's possible to apply a relatively simple system to a complex world and only produce goodness, with no tradeoff.By the way, it also doesn't count to say "Well, I guess a few bigots will be out of luck and a bunch of rich white guys might lose some of their privileges." What are the real risks and downsides, not the sarcastic pseudo ones?- I avoid most discussions about ranking things. I find they have little utility. "Who are the five best filmmakers of all time?" "What is Shakespeare's best play?" "What is the worst programming language?" "Who is the most most overrated actor?" Almost any idea about a subject is more likely to be fruitful than ranking. Ranking tends to close mental doors. ("Good. He's overrated. That's settled!")And I have an absolute rule against saying "Yes, but the alternative is worse" if someone criticizes something I'm affiliated with. "The alternative is worse" can often be a good point. It may be the primary reason for my affiliation. That's fine. But I need to seriously grapple with the criticism, not just shrug it away.If I insist on saying "it's better than the alternative," I must use this template: [Long examination of the criticism...] followed by a full stop. Then, finally, "but it's better than the alternative."- Platonism (Idealism) is wrong and leads to a tremendous number of confused and bad ideas. So I continually pushing against it and reject it."I am only attracted to women, but I one time kissed another guy. Does that mean I'm gay"?No. What you are is a man who is only attracted to women but who one time kissed another guy. That's what actually exists.If we call you "gay," you will still be a man who is only attracted to women but who one time kissed another guy.And if we call you "straight" or bisexual, you will still be a man who is only attracted to women but who one time kissed another guy.There might be a meaningful question here, and maybe "am I gay?" is a shorthand for it, e.g. "Will my friends call me gay?" or "Is it likely I'll want to kiss more men in the future?" But it's useful to get that actual question as clear as possible.In short, there's a big difference between arrangements of matter and human-invented categories. Categories are very useful (and unavoidable), but it's worth mentally distinguishing them from things and behaviors.- I work to make a mental distinction between observations and explanations (or theory and law, as they say in Science). The cookies are missing is an observation. My wife ate them is an explanation. Observations are usually more trustworthy than explanations.# Relationships- My wife (of 24 years) and I keep separate bank accounts. Years ago, I made a throwaway comment about this on Quora and was flabbergasted when it started a firestorm. People accused me of not really being committed to the marriage, having one foot out the door, not trusting my wife, etc. Which is funny to me, because we have the happiest marriage I know of. If anything, we're too co-dependent. We're one of those disgusting joined-at-the-hip couples.I would never suggest that what works for my marriage will work for everyone else's marriage. It's just something worth considering, especially people--like me--who are neurotic about money.If my wife spent "our" money on a $300 dress, I would freak out. But she doesn't. She spends her money on it--or on whatever she wants. And I spent my money on whatever I want. In over two decades, we have yet to have a single fight about money, which seems to be a source of tension in lots of our friends' marriages.We have some simple setups for shared expenses, e.g. she deposits half of our mortgage payment in my account and then I write the actual check to the lien holder. She pays certain utility bills. I pay others.- Whenever possible, I follow the "one-thing" rule. Each email I send (or instruction I give) is about just one thing. I don't write "The meeting is at five today, and please remember to bring your ideas for the holiday party..." because people will come to the meeting and forget the party ideas.Or they'll remember the ideas but forget when the meeting starts. I can rant and rave about people's poor reading skills, but the outcome will be the same.One-thing isn't always possible, but I've found it's possible more-often than not. If there really are two things, I often send two emails, with a delay between them. I let people mentally commit to a five-o'clock meeting. Then, later, I ask them to bring their holiday ideas to it.- In any debate, argument, or discussion of ideas, my first goal should be to fully understand what the other person is saying. I need to repeat it to him, in my own words, and make sure he agrees that my version of it fully expresses his views. I'm not allowed to argue with him until we are in perfect agreement about what he's saying. And if all that happens in the discussion is that we get his ideas clear, it was a discussion worth having- I avoid debates. Rigorous discussions are ideal, and I love them, but the goal must be to figure out the truth. Debates are about winning. And while that can help to some extent zero in on the truth, inevitably, after a while, it comes into conflict with that goal and one wants to win (or avoid losing) at all costs. I’m skeptical that anyone can avoid that goal, once a conversation is framed as a debate.- I don’t apply shortcuts to people. I need to start over with each one. If someone says he's against abortion, I am not allowed to assume he's also immigration unless he says so (though I can ask).If I can't stop myself from "typing" the other person, I should back out of the conversation, because I won't be able to participate in good faith.# Writing- I read everything I write out loud before posting it or publishing it. By doing this, I will countless errors and instantly find places where my writing doesn't flow like natural speech.If I'm somewhere where I can't read out loud (e.g. a quiet office), I read while moving my lips. Just going through that process activates the "out loud" parts of my brain, and I get most of the same benefits.This has become so habitual with me, not reading out loud feels like not putting a period on the end of a sentence. I do it with everything I write, even shopping lists.- There's no such thing as writer's block. I can always write. If I'm out of ideas, I can write about what I ate for lunch yesterday. Which I actually do. Rather than stare at a blank page, I'll write "Salad, and a sandwich," and then I'll start to describe my day. I'll keep doing this--writing about anything, no matter how mundane, until the ideas come or my time is up. Either way, at least I've kept on writing.- When I need to take a break from writing, I leave a sentence unfinished. It's much easier to resume by finishing the sentence than by having to start cold with a new- As I write, I keep an idea bullet list at the bottom of the page, pushing the list down and down as I write more above it. I find this to be the easiest way to record ideas that hit me as I'm writing. I don't have to change documents. I just jot down the idea below where I'm writing and then continue writing.- If I can't think of a word, I just write XXX and keep on writing. Later, I can search for XXX and replace all the instances of it, using a thesaurus if necessary. I'll also do this for multi-word ideas: "She was shorter than XXX, so I had look down to meet her eyes."# General life- I solve low-hanging annoyances as quickly as possible, and I give myself permission to spend money on them. For instance, I constantly lose pens. It's really irritating to not have something to write with and to have to spend time searching for a something to write with. So once every couple of months, I buy a bunch of cheap pens. Problem solved.I don't berate myself for being wasteful. I just buy pens, so there are always some close at hand.If a faucet is dripping--and the sound is driving me crazy--I drop what I'm doing and spend five-minutes fixing it. Etc. If there's something simple and cheap I can do to give myself a small boost in happiness or efficiency, I make it my highest priority.- Most of what I do should be in service of something. This is the best hack I know of for taking ego out of the equation. When I write, I try to serve the reader, the idea, or even the English language. When I code, I try to serve the end-user, the development team, the company, or the code base. I can serve anything except me.If I'm writing to impress you with my intelligence or originality, my writing will inevitably be boring. Of course, I don't start out thinking "My goal is to impress," but ego creeps in. "I can't write that. It's too unoriginal." Or "I can't write that. People will think I'm stupid."When I find myself having these thoughts, I ask myself "What will best serve the writing?" If the writing is best served by being unoriginal, then I need to be unoriginal.I am always on the look out for what people, institution, ritual, craft, discipline or principle I can serve. If I get hung-up or confused while working on a project, I ask "Who or what am I serving?"If the answer is me, that might be fine and legitimate, but then it's probably something I should wrap up as fast as possible, so that I can more on to serving something more interesting and important than I am. This is even useful with household chores. See if you can morph "I need to get washing-the-dishes over with" (which is about ego--it's about pushing through a task that bores you) to "I need to make these dishes look good."- There's no such thing as an existential crisis. That's not literally true, but I find it useful to explore every nuts-and-bolts alternative before assuming I'm depressed because "life is meaningless" or "God is dead."Do I have a fulfilling sex life? Do I have strong friendships? Am I in good physical and mental health? Am I stimulated (challenged without being over-stimulated)? Am I financially stable? Am I socially well-connected and respected? Do I enjoy my job? Do I feel physically safe? Etc.I don't need to answer "Yes" to all of these questions--it would be amazing if I could--but I need to examine each of them before concluding that my angst is because "The Universe is expanding."That line comes from "Annie Hall." When I was a kid, and I watched that movie, I used to think "Yeah! That's how I feel, too!" As an adult, re-watching it, I realized that the kid saying it was living in poverty and his parents were fighting all the time. That was his problem. "The Universe is expanding" was an avoidance tactic.- "I'm doomed" is an excuse. Until I was nearly 30, I was "the nerd who couldn't get a girlfriend." At my wits end, I went to therapy and asked for help dealing with the "fact" that I was going to be single forever. My therapist refused to help me in that way. She refused to agree that it was fact and told me I was making excuses.I was enraged. Did she think I liked being lonely? It wasn't an excuse! It was me having the courage to face an extremely painful fact! Why would I use something painful be an excuse?Well, I did. It was painful, but it let me off the hook. If I'm fated to be alone, then it's not my fault, there's nothing I can do about it, and that gives me a platform from which I can make decisions. Since it's my fate, I just need to learn how to live life as a happy single person...My therapist's point wasn't that I would definitely find a girlfriend. It was that I didn't know. I couldn't know. I couldn't see into the future, unless I created a self-fulfilling prophesy, which is what I was trying to so.My issue--which is so many people's issue--was fear of uncertainty. What if I wasted my life trying and trying and hoping to get a girlfriend and it never happened? It's easier to just believe that it will never happen. (Before coming to this pessimistic conclusion, I believed it one day would happen. Then I vacillated between the optimistic and pessimistic beliefs. Both were less scary than "I don't know what will happen.")What I've learned from this is a form of honesty. I no longer say things like "I can never learn to play the piano. I'm hopeless at it." I either stick with it no matter how long I keep failing. Or I quit, and, when I do, I say "I don't feel like doing this any more, so I'm choosing to quit." By taking responsibility, I gain a sense of agency and control over my life.By the way, a year after I quit making excuses and started working on those aspects of myself that were keeping me single, I met the woman I've been married to for 24 years.- "On the morning of your hanging, put on a your best suit." I'm not sure who said it, but it's great advice. When life shits all over me, I can very quickly feel powerless. That's an illusion. If my wife leaves me, I lose my job, and I become homeless, that's will be terrible. But I don't have to compound the terribleness my modeling myself as a trapped animal. Whenever I feel trapped, I must look for my latitudes of control, no matter how small they are, even if it's just "I can choose to sleep on this park bench or that one." Always look for latitudes of control.- Aesthetic experiences are 100% hedonistic and 100% mine. And that's what's great about them. I need to do everything I can to preserve my aesthetic selfishness. If I want to be selfless, I should do it in other ways: help a coworker, volunteer at a soup kitchen, babysit for friends...And if I need to read a book for work, then that's what I need to do. But if I'm reading it for pleasure, then I get to be as selfish with it as I want. If I get bored, I can quit reading it. I am no longer in school. There's no test. I have nothing to prove to anyone. I don't owe the author anything. And it's silly to mix aesthetic pleasures with things like reputation. ("I should be reading something more intellectual" "People will think I'm stupid...")I avoid anything that mixes aesthetic pleasure and self-improvement. "I feel a little guilty reading this fantasy novel, but at least it has a good message." There's no need to feel guilty. Aesthetics is a playground. It's sex, not school. All good art is porn. Color porn, plot porn, character porn, porn porn. Homework isn't porn. Art should never be a spoon full of sugar to help the medicine go down. It should just be a spoon full of sugar. And medicine doesn't justify the sugar. Sugar justifies the sugar.- When I read something, look at a painting, watching a movie, eat a new dish ... my first question should be "What is my reaction?" "Confused" is a reaction. It's just as much a reaction as angry, joyful, or thoughtful. So is "I don't know what to think," and "I feel nothing." If you are confused, you're confused. If you fell nothing, you feel nothing.All sorts of other things rush in fast ("What should I be feeling?" "Is my feeling appropriate?" "Am I smart enough to get this?"), so it's worth noting one's honest, initial reaction before it vanishes. This is a skill you can become better at over time.When I'm at a museum, I either avoid reading the cards next to the paintings or only read them after first looking at the art. I also avoid blurbs on the backs of books. I want to be hit with things, have reactions to them, and fully feel those reactions.Post childhood, it's sadly easy to lose touch with one's reactions, which is unfortunate, because our reactions are some of our biggest assets. Mine are unique to me. Yours are unique to you. "What should I be feeling?" is unique to no one.- Experiences are almost always better than things. Given a choice between a trip to Africa and an expensive collectable, I should choose Africa. In five years--if not five months--the collectable will be gathering dust. In 20 years, I'll still be remembering the Africa trip.- I quit non-essential habits that bore me. For instance, sometimes I get into this cycle where I keep surfing the web out of inertia. I'm no longer having fun. I'm just visiting the same sites over and over, or endlessly scrolling down Facebook, bored to death but hoping to come across something--anything--diverting.I've made an absolute rule that when this happens, I need to switch to a different activity. It can be anything: doodling, reading, tossing a ball around, playing with my cats, cleaning the kitchen, watching TV. Life is too short to be stuck in a boredom rut.I never tell myself things like "Stop spending so much time on social media." I can spend time anywhere, as long as it feels exciting or interesting. What I'm forbidden to do is just spin my wheels.- I continually work to optimize my life so that I can fully and honestly express myself. So often, I have to hide parts of who I am: at work, around certain people who are easily offended, and so on. That's just part of being a grownup.But it's also inhibiting and unhealthy. So I make it my business to befriend non-judgmental people (in person or online) around whom I can be myself without pretense and without walking on eggshells. This isn't always easy, but it's my #1 concern in life. If I have to be constrained a lot of my time, I need regular doses of freedom.- I ignore or rethink sunk costs. If I wasted $100 on a gadget that I regret buying (but can't return), I try not to think of myself as someone who wasted $100. Wasted was in the past, and the past doesn't exist.I am someone with however much money I have today--even if that's none. It's important to learn from mistakes, but one must balance that with forward momentum. My reality is whatever is in existence right now. Money that's no longer in my bank account can be factored out of my present reality. I only need to concern myself with the money in my account.The same is true of relationships, jobs, and so on. I am not a guy who got fired. "Got fired" doesn't exist. I'm a guy who currently is looking for work. I am not a guy who got dumped. "Got dumped" doesn't exit. I am a guy who is lonely and single.- I take vacations from melodramatic thinking. The world is so complicated, we caricature it in order to create actionable mental models. And the most common (and potent) caricature is melodrama--which is also the most popular from of storytelling and always has been. Its reinforced over and over. Virtually every TV show, novel, and anecdote we see, read, and hear is a melodrama.It can be helpful to think of yourself as the good guy (or even the bad guy: "It's all my fault"), the victim, and so on, but this is also an addictive form of thinking that can lead to depression, confusion, and a dishonest relationship with the world. It's unavoidable, so you don't need to worry that you'll lose your capacity for it. But there's value in setting it aside for a while.Start by asking "Where's the melodrama?" and you'll probably find it. Look for signs that you're thinking in terms of good guys, bad guys, victims, saviors, and endings.My boss is the bad guy. Trump is the bad guy. My friend Joe is the victim and I need to save him. The story will end happily when Trump gets impeached. The story will become a tragedy when I get fired...I try to remember that melodrama is a template that I'm laying on top of reality. What happens when I remove it? Joe isn't a victim. He's a guy who has cancer.I can often shake off the story by thinking outside of its temporal boundaries. "The story doesn't end the day Trump gets impeached. That's just Chapter One. What happens after that?" It's also useful to think historically, which is another way of saying "What happened before that?"- Fear of death, for a secular person, is a result (at least in part) of bad ideas.Death is not nothingness, because nothingness sounds like a thing. Death isn't a thing. It's not a noun. You can't be dead, because there's no "you" to be anything after your brain stops functioning.Death is not not (spoiler alert) like the end of the "Sopranos" where everything turns black. It's not blackness or "floating in a void." The problem is, English makes it really hard to talk about: nothingness still seems like something, like a huge empty space. And when this "empty void" concept creeps into one's thinking, it can lead to a huge amount of anxiety.Whenever I find myself lapsing into "death will be like nothingness" thoughts, I remind myself that it won't "be" like anything. The concept of "be" only makes sense for conscious minds, and, after death, there will be no consciousness.Can a dead person be pissed off about the weather? No. Can a dead person be sick with a cold? No. Dead people can't be anything. And, in fact, there can't be such a thing a a dead "person." Our language is full these subtle mistakes."I will be dead" is incoherent, because there won't be an "I." It also doesn't make sense to say "I hope I'm not forgotten." What's happening is we're thinking about how shitty it feels--when we're alive--to be discounted or ignored. We're worried that death might be like us getting passed over for a promotion. But that requires an "us." No one can forget "us" after we die, because, after we die, there will be no "us" to be forgotten.You can approach the concept by imagining how it feels to be potential fictional character that no author has ever thought of. Is that non-existent fictional character sad because he doesn't exist? Or think of a person who won't be born for a thousand years. Or a rock. What's it like to be a rock? It's like nothing. The words "be" and "like" don't even apply.Eternity is also false. It won't be like anything "for eternity," because time can only be experienced by conscious minds. It won't be like something for eternity, a thousand years, or even a second.If you can't stop yourself from thinking of death as a thing--as an experience--consider that all the usual metaphors (blackness, a void, nothingness) are arbitrary. Say to yourself "It will be horrible spend eternity a sea of orange, purple, paisley!" That makes just as much (or just as little) sense. (Why is nothingness black?) Or say "It will be horrible to spend eternity in a rectangular area with the exact dimensions of Macy's." That's no more arbitrary than "an endless void." Both imply space, and there won't be any space, so why preference the endless void.If you're scared of dying, it's worth running these thought experiments over and over. It's also worth holding on to the "experience" of a total blackout, if you ever have one. They're different from being asleep. When you wake up, you have some sense of time having elapsed while you were sleeping. Maybe that's because you wake up slowly, flirting for a while between unconsciousness and consciousness; maybe it's because you dream, so there's mental activity going on.A few years ago, I had major dental surgery. I was lying in the dentist chair, waiting for anesthesia to take effect. And then in my bed at home. The time in between was simply gone. It didn't exist. That's what death will be "like." That time in-between.