Life became clearer when it was explained to me (gradually I think, rather than in one particular conversation or interview) that there are two types of fun humans can have: the bad kind and the good kind.
On the “bad” list (of course it’s not quite that simple - there’s a place for most of these activities in life unless you choose to live in a nunnery) are the things that provide instant, addiction-forming pleasure: gambling, pornography, cocaine and getting likes on Facebook. They make you happy in the moment but provide no lasting satisfaction: the only way to extend that good feeling is to have a little more.
On the good list are the things that provide lasting contentment: reading a good book, walking on the beach and patting your dog. They are sufficient in themselves - you don’t try to intensify the beach buzz by diving into a sand dune and writhing amongst the spinifex plants - and if you were asked at the end of your life to name a time when you were truly happy, it’s likely that these moments would rank higher than, say, the Saturday afternoon you spent playing Candy Crush.
So if the first sort of fun leads to empty cravings, and the second sort of fun leads to lasting contentment, why don’t we spend more time seeking out the latter? I think part of the reason is that (JK Rowling aside) nobody makes much money out of Type Two fun. No company is financially incentivised to have you spend the afternoon exploring rockpools with your children, but plenty have a business model that relies on you eating more chocolate biscuits. To choose a walk in the forest instead of an afternoon on Instagram requires you to ignore the constant notifications telling you who has commented on your post. The forest is abstract - occupying an almost imaginary place within your brain until you get there; Instagram is in your pocket begging, with the help of sounds and vibrations, for attention.
I was thinking about all of this yesterday, at dawn, as I cast my fishing line into the dark waters of coastal Northland.
I think fishing might be a rare activity that combines both sorts of fun. Sure, I was out connected to nature, on nobody’s timeline, listening to the water lap against the kayak and the seagulls squawking in the distance.
But every cast is like scratching an Instant Kiwi. Every nibble makes you want a little more, and when you catch a fish, it’s not long before you’re thinking about the next one. A couple of years into my hobby I wondered “why do I always get tangled up on my last cast of the day?”, then I realised that there are about 20 “last casts of the day”, and a hopelessly tangled fishing line is one of the only things that could force me to end a session on the water.
I’m sure there are other “combination” activities. A great TV show leaves you feeling moved, even contented, but it does so by giving you sexy actors to look at along the way. I feel contented when I’m cooking, but the sugar and spice makes my brain light up in different ways afterwards when I’m eating. There’s a moment when a romantic relationship transforms from infatuation to contentment and probably lots of times it offers a little of both.
As adults we have the power to identify these distinctions and make (often very difficult) choices around how we will spend our time accordingly. We also have the advantage of remembering a childhood where Type Two fun had a higher profile, and Type One fun was harder to find. I do think parents need to aggressively restrict addictive fun and leave space in their children’s world to discover the other sort. No corporation is going to carve that time out for you - they’re going to spend every marketing dollar they have offering irresistible Type One fun (via the device you conveniently purchased) direct to your child, all day long.
For me that’s one of the biggest risks of screen time for kids: that it sucks up the thousands of formative hours a developing brain would otherwise spend learning what true happiness feels like. If you don’t learn how to focus your attention on a book when you’re a child, will you ever get a second chance?
Loved reading this Jesse and you are intuitively hitting on something very well known in psychological circles! You are describing the two different kinds of happiness: hedonic happiness (the instant kiwi-candy crush-porn / momentary pleasure) and eudaimonic happiness which comes from authenticity, meaning, and growth and is often connected to our values. The combo deal is the dream right?!
👍🏾💯Perfect! No "notes" 👏🏾 - it was simpler/easier when I was growing up relatively poor & the internet & "devices" weren't a thing. "Type two" was going down the street to play with friends, going with Dad fishing & sitting on the river bank while he had his own "type two" break (if the children behaved!), or going to visit family & playing with cousins, and of course reading books. Probably why I grew up choosing nature as recreation & employment, and take my devices to the beach or camping so I can READ on them while being in the fresh air!