Discipline and consistency are undeniably important. Discipline is an exercise of free will because it is the act of detachment from the whim of our emotions. It is a choice to work out, brush our teeth, and take a shower tomorrow not because we feel like it, but because it’s tomorrow. It is the act of liberating ourselves of the decision of whether or not to do something in the heat of the moment because we’ve *already made that decision—*because we’ve already found the resolution to commit to a certain path weeks, months, or years ago. Indeed, as Seth Godin would teach us with The Practice, or Jocko Willink would admonish us with Extreme Ownership, how we act determines the way we feel far more often than how we feel determines the way we act.
But all too often neglected in this pursuit of discipline and consistency is the courage to ask why. Discipline and consistency only exist in regard to a specific course of action, and deciding which course of action to take may be just as difficult or more difficult than actually undertaking it on a day to day basis. When we live in a society where complex systems are nested in even more complex systems, and when these systems are solely designed to serve other systems, we can so easily lose sight of what actually matters to us as human beings. Perhaps the most important question we have to constantly ask ourselves in this intricate modern day society is: what is it for? Only when we understand the root purpose of a given endeavor can we begin to answer what it is worth having discipline for.
What is school for? Is it meant for me to cultivate my understanding of the world and its people and to make better decisions as a member of society? Or is it merely a means for me to get a job?
Then what is work for? Is it merely to attain financial security or status? What role does your work play within a particular system? How does it serve society as a whole? How does it serve you as a member of that society?
What are those systems and innovations even for? Is it meant to grant us convenience and save us time? Then what is the time for? What are we doing with all the time that we saved?
If we choose to suppress these questions, we choose not to truly live. If we blindly choose to have discipline in doing anything, we not only end up being slaves to these systems, but we perpetuate these abhorrent, oppressive constructs that take advantage of the human propensity towards cultural conformity. There is no shortage of people with discipline. There is no shortage of consistency. The truth is, discipline doesn’t matter if we don't take the time to ask why we choose to do what we do; in fact, from a certain perspective it can even be pernicious.
We understand the circumstances people need to fall into depression, suicide, and resort to crime. We understand the dynamics that have directly led to the death of hundreds of millions because of war, disease, poverty, and the unbridled growth of technology. We understand the factors that cause the deterioration of mental health and the overwhelming sense of purposelessness that is so pervasive. What we don’t understand is the deeper why—why these systems exist, why these cultural norms exist, what purpose we want them to serve, and what we really value as human beings—and we cease to have the courage to fight the status quo, even if we know it’s wrong.
We have plenty of people that are doing a very fine job maintaining these seemingly innumerable, infinitely complex systems within our society. We have plenty of people that clearly believe in the current cultural status quo—a certain path of life and a certain way of life—and are very dedicated to ensure that our future generations persist with it. What there is a shortage of is people with discipline and the courage to ask why.
Why do we chastise those who quit for having a lack of discipline? The people that quit are often just trying to ask why. If we haven’t already sorted out the why, the discipline will never stand the test of time. It needs to be forged with self-doubt, with failure, and with the anguish of uncertainty. Quitting allows room for us to explore. It allows us to constantly recalibrate our outlook on life—what matters to us, what brings us joy or contentment, what makes life even worth living.
The path of life is inexact; there are no easy answers. Constantly quitting and an endless pursuit of a perfect opportunity can be just as detrimental to the course of your life as maintaining discipline and consistency in something that you might realize is ultimately not worth the cost. What we can do is decide to promulgate a culture where instead of chastising those who give up, we can learn to encourage others to ask the right questions. We can promote a form of discipline that is not necessarily constrained to a specific task or line of work, but is linked to our unending quest to understand ourselves and the people around us, to play our part in formulating a culture we can be proud to share, and to know what truly brings us fulfillment and happiness as human beings.