The Pleasure Trap
The death of Anthony Bourdain: Thoughts on productivity, pleasure, and depression. A personal preface to JD Roth's memorializing of the late, great travel host.
Barry's Note: I too was devastated, a bit shocked, by Anthony Bourdain's death on Friday (June 8th 2018). We all have unmet heroes 'out there' (at a distance) seemingly living a grand, glorious life. From a 3000-foot view, all appears swimmingly well.
Or, we have them so close to us (a Father that decides to end life on his own terms, like mine did when I was 14), that the shockwaves are felt for years. Sometimes affecting our entire psyche and perceptions of Self for decades.
But, like so many who have disappointed and fooled us — the luminaries, mentors, leaders, and gurus in our life we simply presume have the resources to 'figure their shit out" (the Robin Williams', Kate Spade's, Bourdain's of the world), we have to step-back from the exalted podium we put them on and realize one truth:
Irrespective of wealth, status, or pedigree, everybody is going through something dark. There's a Shadow side to each one of us.
Just how far we're willing to face it head-on, and deal with the buried monster eye-to-eye… that is often the key to releasing what we never knew we had boiling so hot in the first place.
But, we're all human… not emotionless cyborgs running around this planet. We need help; we need support and encouragement. So, when you have a loved one in your life, anybody actually you come across, that looks dejected or depressed, stop and hug them. Ask them what's on their mind. And just simply listen.
And, if you find out they're having thoughts of suicide, don't try to be their savior on your own. Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 (TALK). You can also find a list of additional resources at SpeakingOfSuicide.com/resources.
by JD Roth
Anthony Bourdain killed himself Friday morning.
“So what?” you might be thinking. “He’s just another fucking celebrity who didn’t know how good he had it.” Maybe you’re right. But his death has weighed heavy on me all weekend.
On Friday morning, as I wrote the weekly Get Rich Slowly email, I thought about Anthony Bourdain. On Friday afternoon, as Kim and I worked in the yard, I thought about Anthony Bourdain.
On Friday evening, as we soaked in our new hot tub with a friend, I thought about Anthony Bourdain. Yesterday, I thought about Anthony Bourdain. Today, I thought about Anthony Bourdain.
Now I’m writing this article as an act of catharsis. Maybe it’ll help me to stop thinking about Anthony Bourdain.
The Depression Trap
I believe Anthony Bourdain’s death touched me deeply for a couple of reasons.
I was a huge fan. Since listening him read the audio version of Kitchen Confidential a decade ago, I’ve loved his work. Parts Unknown was probably my favorite travel show: raw and real — and filled with food. Bourdain connected with everyone he met. His joy for life was contagious and his mind was sharp.
Like Bourdain did, I struggle with depression. All my life, I’ve experienced periodic descents into darkness. The first time this happened, I missed five weeks of sixth grade. In the nearly forty years since then, I’ve developed a variety of coping mechanisms, but they don’t always work. In recent months — since the middle of March — the darkness has deepened, and I don’t know why. (And just as I missed five weeks of school back then, I’ve been unable to get my work done in the present.)
Let me make it clear that I am not suicidal. Right now, the biggest symptom of my depression is my inability to get shit done. But whereas suicide seems strange and senseless to almost everyone else, depressives understand the appeal — even if we’d never consider it personally.
One of the many stupid things about depression is that the condition doesn’t care how awesome your life is. It doesn’t care how successful you are. It doesn’t care how much money you have. Depression is not rational. If it were, it’d be easy to think your way out of it.
Paula Froelich, one of Bourdain’s ex-girlfriends, put it like this:
Bourdain’s death didn’t just make me introspective. It also led to a couple of interesting conversations about pleasure and productivity — and about what really matters in life.
The Productivity Trap
Friday afternoon, I received an email from a GRS reader, we’ll call Michael:
I’m sure you saw Anthony Bourdain killed himself. This to me was a telling quote:
“When asked during a recent interview with The Wall Street Journal whether he ever thought about stepping back from the breakneck pace of a job that kept him on the road 250 days a year, he replied, ‘Too late for that. I think about it. I aspired to it. I feel guilty about it. I yearn for it. Balance? I fucking wish.'”
Obviously I didn’t know Bourdain personally, or even know much about him as a public figure, but I think that mentality is common: Once you’ve become successful, the thought of ever ratcheting back seems unthinkable. Obviously, suicide is rare, but I think this mentality is common among successful people — they stay in an unhappy status quo simply because they have so much invested in their self-image and public perception of themselves as successful people.
I think Michael is onto something. I’ve seen this in my own life, in the lives of friends and family, and the lives of colleagues. They fall into what you might call the productivity trap. (Here’s an article I almost linked to the other day about the productivity trap: If you’re so successful, why are you still working 70 hours a week?)
I have one friend, for instance, with an enormously successful career. He has a popular blog, a popular podcast, best-selling books, and even an annual conference that attracts attendees from across the planet. Yet he’s never satisfied — not with himself nor with anybody else.
He’s always looking for ways to make things “bigger and better”. He seems unhappy with who he is and what he has. He’s written publicly about his struggles with mental illness, but he hasn’t revealed its full effects.
It’s not just my friend. It’s me too. I see this pattern in my own life, and it’s something I’ve deliberately decided to approach more mindfully. Why do I want to have a hot tub or travel to Ecuador? Why did I repurchase Get Rich Slowly — and how often should I publish here?
Why do I keep agreeing to public speaking gigs? Do I really want these things? Are they aligned with my personal mission statement? Will they really make me happy? (Sometimes the answer is yes. Sometimes the answer is no.)
In his email, Michael continued:
I think this is really the key to personal finance and early retirement — actually stepping back and figure out what is important to you, and doing it, even if it seems like you’re turning your back on a great career, or a nice house or whatever.That is the hardest part, which keeps most people in a life they don’t want. They think “I went to school X or work at company Y, so therefore I must live in this city or have that job or have that wardrobe” and never ask themselves what, as individuals, makes them happy.
The Pleasure Trap
As our email conversation continued, Michael brought up another interesting point. He noted that our culture — and this is especially true in the world of financial independence blogs — is obsessed with “experiences”, such as travel. Yet in many ways, collecting experiences is no better (nor any different) than collecting things.
Here’s Michael again.. [continue with the post over at GetRickSlowly.org's site)
- JD Roth
Founder, Get Rich Slowly (‘06)