Columbine High School

The moral case for doing remarkable things Your greatest power lies in recognizing your inherent strength to navigate challenges. Growth happens one intentional step at a time, but it requires an admission that life is fundamentally difficult. Jordan Peterson argues that you are morally obligated to pursue remarkable things not out of vanity, but because the alternative is a slow descent into bitterness. When life presents itself as short and potentially brutal, you have two choices: hide in a state of avoidance or flip the terror on its head. Since you are "all in" regardless of the outcome, the most logical and adventurous path is to take risks that align with a higher purpose. This pursuit is not merely about achieving success in a material sense; it is a defensive maneuver against the darkness of the human heart. If you do not give everything you have to a meaningful endeavor, the vacuum is filled with cynicism and resentment. You become a force for darkness, jealous of those who are competent and working to destroy them. The moral obligation to be remarkable is, at its core, an obligation to stay human and avoid the psychological pathway to hell. This requires a shift from viewing challenges as obstacles to viewing them as the necessary fire that tempers the soul. Replacing naivity with courage and wisdom Many people begin their journey in a state of naivity, possessing an optimism that is fragile because it lacks an understanding of malevolence. When this naivity inevitably breaks—whether through personal betrayal or the realization of the world's cruelty—it often shards into cynicism. Jordan Peterson warns that while cynicism is an improvement over being sheltered and dependent, it is a dangerous place to end. Cynics believe they have seen the truth, but they are often just blind in a new way, using their doubt as a shield to avoid responsibility and justify short-term hedonic gains. To move beyond cynicism, you must substitute courage for your lost naivity. True wisdom is not the absence of doubt, but the ability to act despite it. This is the deepest meaning of faith: the willingness to act out the proposition that you can ride the wave no matter how big it becomes. It is a moral imperative to regain optimism, not because the world is perfect, but because you possess the agency to meet the future head-on. By questioning the validity of your own resentment, you begin to see that cynicism is often just a sophisticated way of letting yourself off the hook for the work you know you should be doing. The danger of the inner citadel and false maps When the road to fulfillment is blocked, there is a temptation to retreat into what is known as the "inner citadel." This is a spiritual retreat where you teach yourself not to want what you cannot get, effectively cutting off your own desires to avoid the pain of failure. While this might feel like protection, it often leads to a life lived in compensatory fantasies. Jordan Peterson notes that staying in a fantasy world for too long is the pathway to madness, citing extreme examples like the Columbine shooters who dwelt in dark fantasies for hundreds of hours before acting. The solution is not to abandon planning, but to ensure your map bears a relationship to the underlying territory. A strategy for the future is a provisional map; it becomes a delusion only when you ignore elements of your experience to avoid paying the price for your goals. If your plans collapse, the proper response is confession and atonement. You must sit down and ask: "What did I do that wasn't as good as it could have been?" This requires radical humility—the willingness to strip yourself down and discover where you are being "stupid" so that you can rectify the error and move forward with greater strength. Why you actually don't want to be Elon Musk In a culture obsessed with status, many compare themselves to high-performing icons like Elon Musk. However, Jordan Peterson and Chris Williamson explore the hidden cost of such genius. Musk describes his mind as a "storm," a state of hypermania that most people would find unbearable. High-level creativity often correlates with a verbal fluency and a rate of thought that allows no remission. When you see a figure like Musk, you are looking through a narrow aperture at a marketed slice of life, ignoring the baggage and the intense psychological pressure that accompanies that level of output. The only control group appropriate for you is who you were yesterday. Comparing yourself to a billionaire or a celebrity is a delusion because you don't know their tragedies or the specific limitations they face. Aiming at a target is healthy, but measuring your worth against it is paralyzing. If the gap between your current self and your ideal is so large that it stops you from moving, you must scale the "dragon" down to a size you are willing to face. This is the Matthew Principle in action: as you take even trivial uphill steps, your progress rolls in a geometric, rather than linear, fashion. The redemptive power of adversarial truth Truth is the most adventurous path because its consequences are unpredictable. Jordan Peterson argues that lying pathologizes your instincts, warping the very vision you need to navigate the world. If you lie to get what you want, you assume you know what you need, but most people are poor judges of their own requirements. By speaking what you believe to be true, you put the force of reality behind you. This is far more effective than "performative empathy" or the "devouring mother" archetype of compassion that prioritizes short-term comfort over long-term thriving. Even hostile encounters can be a gift if approached with the right mindset. Peterson reflects on his interviews with Kathy Newman and Helen Lewis, noting that their attempts to lay verbal traps forced him to step more carefully and refine his ideas. Loving your enemy means recognizing that your harshest critic may reveal flaws in your character that friends would overlook. When you are attacked, there is a massive opportunity nested within the conflict to reorient and emerge stronger. This is the essence of psychological alchemy—taking the lead of an unjust attack and turning it into the gold of a more refined character. Reclaiming the metaphysical substrate of sanity The modern world is experiencing a decline in mental health because we have attempted to define identity as a purely interior, subjective state. Sanity is not the proper structuring of the brain inside your skull; it is the concordance between the individual and the world. You are distributed into your relationships, your family, and your community. When you reduce identity to short-term sexual desires or hedonic whims, you become isolated and aimless. True mental health requires voluntarily adopting hierarchical responsibility—committing to a partner, raising children, and serving a community. This extends to the very foundations of Science, which Peterson argues is collapsing because it has been unmowed from its religious substrate. To be a scientist, you must believe that truth is understandable and that pursuing it is good. These are metaphysical, not scientific, claims. Without a belief in a "higher good," or God, the intellect becomes luciferian—it attempts to place itself in the highest position and eventually drowns in the desert of dead facts. By reclaiming humility and attending to our ignorance, we find the spirit that guides us toward a meaningful existence, ensuring that our progress is not just a collection of data points, but a genuine adventure toward the light.