Photo courtesy of author
“So, what do you think?”
My friend, Nathan, from NYC called me last week. He is a lawyer “who never settles for less.” The money-grabbing, ambulance-chasing type who works for a big firm with a grand-sounding name and plush Manhattan offices.
He is the kind of person no one likes or wants anything to do with. Until they dig you out of a massive legal hole. Then, he must seem like a super-hero — a morally righteous character that uses extraordinary powers to fight evil.
I first met him in law school in the nineties. We had an instant connection, even though we often had different opinions about the world. And although we don’t talk regularly, we remain close.
Anyway, Nathan called me last week. He had a “problem” and wanted to get my take.
“A trusted, independent point of view,” he called it.
But like many people asking for advice, I suspect he had already made his “life-changing decision.” He just needed to hear himself say it out loud to give himself the courage to act.
The Big Reset
“It feels right.”
Nathan was thinking about quitting the firm.
“It’s time to break up The Avengers and have a crack at a solo career. A big reset.”
I didn’t see that coming. “I thought you loved the firm. What triggered that idea?”
“It isn’t the same anymore. The job has changed. And definitely not in a good way.”
He then listed off all of the ways that his work life had got worse over the last decade.
But there was one complaint that resonated. Something that I think anyone who works in an office or for any large organization can understand and relate to.
“I spent most of my day adding information to a stupid client portal that our firm’s consultant sent me. It was a total waste of time. And a distraction from what I should be doing. Trying to gain the largest settlement for my clients.”
“And then there are these bull**** ‘goal-setting tools’ that need continuously updating. Employee satisfaction tools. All kinds of project and process tracking tools. Tools that help you prioritize. Tools that track your work pattern. Tools that remind you continuously about a list of tasks that you have to complete. These tools are like a weed. They are relentless and destroy everything.”
Now, he was on a roll.
“Imagine asking Iron Man to complete a spreadsheet. I long for the good old days when I could focus on actually helping people.”
Nathan recalled the pre-digital days of not being connected. The days when he had time to properly prepare for a case — when he could retreat to his office and get work done.
“It was just more fun to work. The expectation that I must be constantly available and digitally update stuff is driving me insane.
“Digitization or digitalization — whatever you call it — is killing my creativity and sucking the joy out of my life. The importance of just having a quiet moment to myself to consider a problem carefully has gone. Instead, I am drowning in digital solutions that are forced on me by people who don’t understand ****.
“Our minds have been invaded. We are corrupted by the constant demand to explain ourselves, and to continually justify our existence. The machine demands to know, and we are compelled to answer in order to survive.
“Look at me! I am worthy. I have earned my right to exist. I have given all of myself to my corporate overload. But our time, our happiness, and — ultimately — our identity are eaten up and sacrificed. We have become slaves to the machine.
“We need to learn to appreciate low-tech solutions again. And the only way to do that is to quit the firm and do things my way. A low-tech life. So, from now on, I’ll only allow digital solutions that make sense.”
Revival
And — as one often does with old friends — we started talking about a shared experience from the past.
We recalled a trip to Colombia we had taken around 2000 to visit our classmate. He had a finca (farm) in the mountains — a two-hour drive from Bogota. It was the perfect place to recharge and disconnect from law school. Nature. No television. Unreliable electricity supply.
Classic low-tech living.
We stayed there several weeks with our friend and his family.
When we first arrived our Colombian friend had given us an unexpected warning.
“In the mountains, at more than 8000 ft, it can get pretty cold in the evening. The fact that there is no insulation — it isn’t uncommon to have a bird in the finca as a visitor — you need to take care. So, you’ll be needing these.”
He gave us both a ruana — a poncho-style garment. A woolen, square cloth with an opening in the center for the head. It worked like magic. The poncho allowed us to move freely but also kept us very warm.
The fact it made us look like the anti-hero in a Sergio Leone movie added to the effect.
We spent the summer helping out on the farm and perfecting our Clint Eastwood impressions.
“Every gun makes its own tune.”
“The way I figure, there’s really not too much future with a sawed-off runt like you.”
Low-Tech Living
“I dug out my ruana, recently. I started wearing it around the apartment. It puts me in touch with a simpler way of life. And gives me the courage to know that there is something better than a life spent drowning in digital tools.”
I wasn’t sure if he was kidding. The thought of a $500 to $1,000 an hour lawyer wandering around his Manhattan apartment in a Colombian poncho made me smile.
But, perhaps, it is the perfect response to our crazy world. Maybe, we should reset our lives and get back to basics.
I thought about this conversation for a couple of days and then — inspired by my friend’s example — went down into the basement and dug around to see if I could find my ruana.
A couple of hours of searching later and there it was. The perfect symbol of a low-tech life. A life far removed from technology and all the nonsense of the modern world.
And as summer turns to fall, I can see the appeal of wearing it around the house.
“You see in this world there’s two kinds of people, my friend. Those with loaded guns, and those who dig. You dig.”