I have to confess that, despite not having a head for finance, I am a devotee of CNBC’s morning show, Squawk Box. Amidst a sea of cable news networks with more motives than a film noir plot, Squawk Box’s agenda is overt, namely “what does this news mean for financial markets?” The hosts are knowledgeable, balanced and likeable. But amidst the talk of market consolidation, options expirations, and relentless debate over AI, what I really love is when Arthur Brooks joins the show for a hefty 15 minute segment which seems to be about every other week. I have skipped breakfast, been late to work and in one unfortunate incident missed a call regarding one of my children’s educational challenges just to hear what Arthur Brooks has to say.
Brooks doesn’t so much have a resume as he has a journey. His background is well documented on his impressive website and manicured Wikipedia page. It’s the story of an interesting but unfocused youth, a pass through academia then politics, and into the broadest mission there is – a search for meaning. As a DC person myself, [shudder] I first heard his name as the head of the American Enterprise Institute (AEI), a conservative think tank that in the Pre-Trump times had a reputation for being modern and widely engaged. In the mid-aughts, word had spread to my colleagues that Brooks was looking to reinvent AEI for a world he saw as shifting rapidly and I started watching him more closely.
These days, Brooks has ascended to a rare and most important title, billing himself as a “thinker.” And it’s safe to say the world has endorsed it. He’s published at least 7 books and seems to have a non-stop schedule of speeches and media appearances. He’s Ram Dass for people who order Huckberry clothing. He’s Tach Nicht Han for people… well, for people who watch CNBC in the morning.
And when you hear Brooks speak, it’s easy to see how he’s achieved this status. He seems very in touch with the contradictions of modern life such as our ability to access all knowledge and entertainment at all times while still feeling like we’re missing something. Or how we’re achieving more but getting less fulfillment. Or how we feel we have a duty to serve a potentially dying world despite our inability to manage our own lives or emotions. He acknowledges these contradictions as things that are not just in our heads, and his recognition of this fact alone is helpful for lots of us. Sometimes, he cites research and historical precedent to explain why the emotional problems we have as adults in modern America are different from those experienced 2 or 3 generations ago. Other times, he draws on religion and myth to reveal how our problems are timeless. He makes you think about what you’re chasing in life and why. Though it’s worth noting that he’s been suspiciously quiet on how we’re to reconcile Bravo reality TV shows with the existence of a just and loving God.
But while Brooks confidently and affably holds forth on a news program, a bud of conflict grows in your mind. Here is a man who understands the need for simplicity in life and the futility of chasing fleeting rewards like status, material wealth or internet points. And he easily convinces you of the same. But your brain smells a disagreement: to see Brooks on this national TV program, he must spend so much of his energy chasing, as my kids say, that bag. Which somehow feels like the opposite of the advice he’s giving.
Dig into Brooks on the web and the conflict between guru and influencer gets deeper. He, like so many untrustworthy internet things, deals in superlatives, hyping his new book, The Meaning of Your Life as “the hardest book I’ve ever written.”
Earlier this year, his account on LinkedIn posted an opening on his team for an Operations Assistant to help with scheduling, travel, time management, etc. A section of the job listing is called, “why this role matters” and read, “You will directly enable the creative, intellectual, and mission-driven work of a nationally recognized thought leader and the CEO of a high-growth company…” It’s hard to articulate why, but that feels icky, right? It’s not just me?
Another LinkedIn post tells followers, “[Knowing your affect profile] helps you see where your happiness comes from, what drains it, and how you relate to other people whose emotional patterns may be very different from yours. I have a test called ‘The Happiness Scale’ that helps you understand your affect profile, by the way. If you’re interested in seeing what it can do for you and your teams, you can check it out here:” The post then links to Brooks’ website where you enter your credit card and, after a ten minute test, get results and guidance for a mere $14.99.
The conflict in your brain fully blossoms and becomes clear. Many of the things Brooks touts as the key to happiness seem to be at odds with the way he exists in the world. He eschews the same tools he uses to promote his work and himself. He suggests simplicity while living a complicated life.
As far as I can figure there are three assumptions we can make to resolve the contradiction of Arthur Brooks:
Option One – Arthur Brooks is at peace. It is you who is not. Let’s assume that Brooks is 100% the real deal. That he heeds most of his own guidance and has somehow reconciled the emptiness of the modern world with his utilization of that same world. In short, let’s assume that, from Brooks’ standpoint, there is no conflict. The problem with this assumption is that you know that behind the scenes he’s negotiating book deals, turning down speaking engagements that are too small, and scrapping to get higher and higher caliber media appearances. You can easily picture him second guessing decisions that have affected his status and/or personal wealth. And none of that sounds peaceful or like the life of man who understands true happiness.
Option Two – and this feels the least likely, Brooks is in it just for the money. Here, we assume that some combination of his life experience and his cognitive wiring has made Arthur Brooks a snake oil salesman. He and his team spend time crafting insights drawn from others’ research and historical knowledge. They draft speeches and talking points and are always, always, always working on the next book and the next media tour. When one insight is finalized and polished, Brooks or someone on his team strategizes ways to monetize it using, for example, website quizzes. There are two problems here. First, as simple and naive as this may seem, he just doesn’t seem like a person who would do that. But second, wouldn’t the act of doing the research, refining it all and putting out into the world actually be the thing he’s purporting to be? In other words, wouldn’t doing all the work it would take to be an effective fraud actually make him the real deal to some extent? And if so, is it ok for us to heed the advice of someone who is not what he appears to be?
Option Three – Brooks is a product that you can choose to buy or not buy. Maybe it doesn’t matter? Maybe whether Brooks is the real deal or isn’t the real deal is not relevant to the messages he delivers. You can find value in his work or not. Or you can just find value in some of it. Buy one book, but not another. Take inspiration from a speech, but don’t buy the personality test. Honestly, this seems like the best option. The only remaining problem here is that addressing the modern problems in life is hard. Very hard. So hard, in fact, that most of us question whether it’s possible at all to achieve a deeper peace on a day-to-day basis. And that it’s nearly impossible to trust even part of the guidance Brooks offers if we suspect that he – the human who has internalized it best – isn’t living it. It’s easy to see Brooks as an all-or-nothing offering. But what human, or human-built entity is purely all just one thing?
This mystery isn’t really about Arthur Brooks, of course. And it isn’t about the sphere of Ted Talkers, influencers and life coaches that do similar work. I think, as strange as it sounds, the thing that is curious about Brooks isn’t even about whether there’s hope for emotional and spiritual peace in the modern world. I think maybe it comes down to a simple and much older question: how much can you trust advice from someone who makes money off of it? And despite it all, I find myself wondering, “what would Arthur Brooks say about that?”