“You know you can have that conversation with AI setting any parameters you like.”
This was a reply to one of my recent articles in which I tried my hand at using a fictional discussion to make a point rather than my standard essay format. I’m honestly not sure what the intention was. When I first saw it, I thought it was intended to be dismissive of my efforts. As I look at it now, I think “maybe it’s a helpful suggestion about how I can use AI.” Either way, I can’t help but read it as “why bother? Why do you put in all that effort when you can simply ask ChatGPT or Grok to do it for you?”
Most people have hobbies, mine just happens to be writing. I used to run marathons (before my body rebelled) and not once did anyone say to me, “you know, you can do the entire course faster in a car.” My brother has spent what must be a decade rebuilding an old car. It never occurred to me to say, “you know you can just buy a new one, why bother?” People paint. Most not very well. Are they not aware that a camera can do what they do in a fraction of the time? “Why bother?” The closest I’ve come to this question is when I went back to school in my 40s to get an MA in US history. It did nothing for my career as an IT manager. Some admired me for doing it, but many others looked at me like I was crazy. “Why bother?” Why indeed?
Honestly, it’s not as if I haven’t thought it myself. Late at night when insomnia hits and I start thinking about what I’m doing with my life a little voice says to me “why are you doing this? What exactly do you think you’re accomplishing? Is anything you write any good? Are you reaching anyone? Why bother?” And then the night passes and I remember why, because I like to. I write to organize my thoughts, to determine what I think and why. It’s also a form of therapy at times. It helps me deal with my frustrations with the world, to put my opinion out there and to find out occasionally, that I’m not alone in what I think. Writing also gives me a sense of accomplishment. Writing is hard work and there is a sense of pride in completing a post, regardless of how many people it reaches or what they think. “I did this!”
This should not surprise people. Every year 700 to 1000 people climb Mount Everest risking life and limb when it would be safer and easier to just book a sightseeing flight. Why bother? Why climb the mountain? George Mallory said it best, “because it’s there.”
Why train for a marathon when you will never be an Olympic athlete? Why learn to cook when you’ll never be a chef? Why try new things when there will always be someone (or something) that can do it better than you? Why do difficult things when there’s always an easier path?
“We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard…”
— John F. Kennedy
Why not test yourself? Why not take a chance and try? Sure, you might fail, but how is that better than not trying at all?
"Everything you want is on the other side of fear."
-- Jack Canfield
“Why bother?” Not exactly an encouraging question. I’ve never been accused of being an optimist and yet even I refuse to entertain this thought except during moments of weakness. It’s inherently negative and fatalistic. Why make your bed, you’re just going to mess it up again in the evening when you go to bed? Why go to a restaurant when it’s less expensive to eat at home? Why have a glass of wine with a beautifully prepared meal when it would be much easier to drink flat water and eat nutrient paste? “Why bother” when taken to its logical end state ultimately concludes with “we’re all going to die anyway.”
“Why bother?”
Because failure leads to growth.
“Why bother?”
Because if I try, I might succeed.
“Why bother?”
Because it’s the journey not the destination.
We all have a choice.
“Do you want to take a leap of faith, or become an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone?”
“Why bother?”
Because it’s better than the alternative.
Can you imagine the lives of the people who said that to you? What dull-witted, boring, uncurious, unaccomplished creatures they must be!
This was so perfect:
‘I used to run marathons (before my body rebelled) and not once did anyone say to me, “you know, you can do the entire course faster in a car.”’
Yes. That encapsulates perfectly the mindset which values the end result over the process taken to achieve that result. Of course, the whole essay expands on this delightfully - but that thumbnail sketch truly was a thing of beauty.
As an aside, I miss running too. Osteoarthritis is a bastard.