Dear Jon
In just a few short months I’ll be 45 and you’ll be 25, which means a whole generation has passed. I feel like now is the right time to write this - the business came to an abrupt end recently, the house is on the market and we lost Chili yesterday. Of course, you don’t yet know about the business, the house or Chili and I don’t want to spoil the surprise, so I won’t reveal any real details. The details aren’t really important to be honest - that’s why I wanted to write. You’re probably thinking that this all sounds horribly sad, but it’s not, it’s wonderful actually. Let me explain.
I don’t think it will come as any surprise when I tell you that you’ll lose a lot of people that you love over the next 20 years. It would be cruel of me to tell you who and when, but again, that’s not the important part. The thing to know is that death is always unexpected, even when all logic tells you its just around the corner. Don’t ignore it; know that people die and it’s never the right time and once it’s done its done. The absolute finality of death will catch you by surprise so many times and you’ll keep stubbornly ignoring or denying it. I want to tell you that you don’t get any second chances as far as the death of loved ones is concerned, so whatever you have to do, do it now. All the things you want to do with them, to say to them, the trips, the photos, the videos, the hugs and kisses must be done now, because one day you will wake up and they won’t be there and there’ll be nothing you can do about it but wish you’d done things differently and that’s a hard feeling to shake. Please read ‘Tuesdays with Morrie’ sooner rather than later.
By the way, I should remind you that you yourself are not immortal, even though right now, at 25, health and longevity are pretty much at the bottom of your list of priorities. Have fun, by all means, but try to take better care of yourself in general. Weightlifting (which you’ve stopped doing, why?) is not the be-all and end-all of exercise. Take better care of your heart. Running is great - you just need to learn to love it. Start by walking a bit, running a bit and build up from there - you’ll thank me later. Read ‘Born to Run’ for inspiration. Looking good is great, I won’t deny that, but in time you’ll come to understand that fitness is so much more.
You’ve already lived through some pretty traumatic experiences - the gulf wars, 9/11, dad’s financial woes, changing school, grandad’s illness and probably quite a few more I can’t recall right now. I’m afraid to say it keeps coming. There’ll be more wars, a massive global financial meltdown, extreme weather events, even a worldwide pandemic of epic proportions. Nobody really prepared you for just how harsh and unforgiving the world can be at times, so take this as a warning. You must maintain a ‘buffer’ at all times so that you are ready to act when needed. Disasters can be avoided and the impact of extreme events softened just by keeping a bit of gas in the tank at all times - that’s really the best advice I can give you. Put some money aside for emergencies right now - you’ve never been good at that. Have a good plan for when things go wrong, because they will. Be a ‘prepper’ even if people laugh at you - they’ll end up asking you for hand gel, you’ll see.
Honestly though, it’s not these black swans that end up having the biggest impact - it’s the slow drift, the gradual change in the world around you. That really adds up over 20 years. At your age, it’s easy to be enthused by it all, to keep on top, to be the bold explorer blazing a path in this new digital world. I’m not here to discourage you from that, but I think you should know that change is inevitable and that you too will get left behind, perhaps sooner than you think. You laugh at those who only listen to music that was popular in their twenties and show contempt for older folk who find themselves struggling in this new economic reality while you flex your newly found skills with CSS float and Paypal ‘Buy Now’ buttons. Know that you too will eventually tire of self-reinvention and the breakneck pace of development of the online world. Im sad to say that in just one generation, the internet you know right now will change - and sour - beyond all recognition. Enjoy it while it lasts, make your money and get out while you’re still afloat. Don’t let it absorb you into its dark recesses.
You’re quite good at knowing when to get out actually. I’m not sure I’m allowed to say this, but your gut instinct on when enough is enough turns out to be pretty good. You’ll do OK on those really bold decisions. Quitting whilst ahead is one of your strong points, so don’t be persuaded by others that ‘failure’ is to be avoided at all costs and don’t be swayed when others say you make big decisions too quickly and too flippantly. It’s your style and it turns out it works pretty well for you.
Which brings me to the house.
This is a tough one, because I’m still here at ‘the house’ but won’t be for long, so I feel I need to relate the thoughts I’ve been having lately. I’ve been in two minds whether to tell you this, because I don’t want it to put you off, but I think you’ll do better if you know. I’ll have a lot to say about the house, and houses in general, because they’re going to be an important thread in your life over the next 20 years.
This isn’t the first house you’ll buy or sell by the way, so let me talk a bit about the financial aspect first. Your working-class mentality that houses are always a good (or the only possible) investment and/or always go up in price is well meaning, but not accurate. In fact, you’d do well to improve your financial savvy now rather than leaving it for ten years. Read ‘Rich Dad, Poor Dad’ at least. Learn the basics of financial planning, portfolio theory and the relative merits of different financial instruments as investments. In general, Rolly is right, houses are too illiquid and the costs involved in buying, selling and maintaining them mean that even if the sticker price goes up, even considerably, the yield isn’t always good, or even positive, in real terms. Another thing Rolly is right about is that you can make mostly bad financial decisions as long as you get a few big ones right. That’s so, so important and turns out to be true not just for you but for almost everyone around you. I can’t elaborate on that any further without giving the game away, but keep it in mind and it will serve you better than almost any other financial advice anyone offers.
Here’s the thing though, house are not just financial investments. They are a prism for the light of your life to shine through. The best way I can describe it is that things that are only tangentially related have a way of getting entangled - businesses, people, dogs and houses - the way all the different colours of light blend together to make white. The significance of each tends to merge into the other until they become inseparable - not physically, but emotionally, spiritually. White light. I can’t tell you exactly how these things relate to each other; all I can say is that this house is, was, Chili, and is, was, the business, and Paco and the Israeli’s after some shit goes down that I won’t even go into now, and all the other things that happened here over the last decade. It somehow came to embody those things. The belly rubs in the sun on the daybed, the ambulance in the street, the picture of us all together with the suitcases and the kids just after they arrived, Nicola balancing on the swan in the pool, the joints and philosophical musings in the focus hut.
Without those things, it feels just like a pile of glass and concrete. I think that’s why we are selling it more than any other reason. Or perhaps my desire to sell it subconsciously caused some of these things to happen. Or perhaps karma pushed some of these things to happen so we’d sell it because some higher power knows that is the right thing to do. I don’t know which way the causality runs, but selling it we definitely are.
I won’t miss the pool. That might come as quite a surprise to you. I’ll miss the good times, the people and parties for sure, but the pool taught me a really important lesson. Some material things give a lot but take a lot from you too. Avoid those.
Back to money. The ethical code governing writing letters to one’s younger self forbids me from telling you to buy Amazon shares and just sit back and wait, so let me tell you what I’ve learnt. Carlos is basically right, you’ll always make ends meet. You won’t die from lack of money. So just quit the worrying, please. In general, try to develop a more positive relationship to it. It’s not inherently good or bad, it’s just money. Over the next 20 years you’ll see both ends of the spectrum - you’ll be bankrupt and at rock bottom and you’ll make stacks of cash. Don’t get too carried away, it never really makes that much difference to your happiness levels.
Oh, that’s a big one, happiness, let’s go down that sidetrack for a bit.
Somehow, somewhere along the line you will get labelled as an ‘entrepreneur’ and it will stick with you and encumber you. You are not an entrepreneur - you never were and you never will be. What you are is a good technical small solo business owner. Entrepreneurs embrace risk and know how to turn investment and human capital into profit. They are good managers. You are none of those things. Your technical skill, creativity and high-agency make you apt to earn money as an autonomous business operator, but try to shun the label ‘entrepreneur’ as soon as you can because it will end up causing you a lot of psychological pain. For example, you are useless with customers. I mean, you’re very good at dealing with them, obviously, but just like mum, you let them get to you, right into you. I wish, wish, wish I could just tell you not to let them get to you, to just say ‘fuck them’, but that’s not in your nature. So the biggest lesson I’ve learnt along the way is to stop dealing with customers as soon as you can - delegate that role. I can’t say exactly how without revealing too much - you’ll work it out.
Since we’re on the subject of personality, let’s jam on that for a bit. Another of my wishes is that I could spare you 20 years of anguish over the specialist/generalist question. Yes, I’m sorry to say that as it torments you now, it will continue to do so for two more decades. I’m happy to tell you though that I did eventually find the solution. I’ve actually written it up! I don’t think I would have found it without stewing on it for 20 years though, so I’m not going to give it away. I’ll keep it here safe for you to discover. But I will say this: you ARE a generalist. It will take you a long, long time to make your peace with that and during that time it will be both your downfall and your making many times over, but it’s the unavoidable, inescapable nature of you. No matter how hard you try, you will never be able to define yourself as anything specific. You are good, great even, at many things, but world class at none - it is your defining characteristic whether you like it or not. The crazy thing is that you’ll spend so much time and mental effort stewing over how to define yourself, when the definition is staring you in the face right now and will continue to do so until you finally see it. Being a generalist seems so imprecise and all-encompassing to you right now, but in time you’ll discover that the things that interested you five or even ten years ago (learning, knowledge, humanities, music, self development) are the ones that are still important to you now and remain important even when you are my age. In this you are remarkably consistent. Those are things that define you. Take comfort in that but keep growing.
What I’m about to say is hard hitting, but it doesn’t really change anything in my advice to you. Being a generalist will be your making because it will be the superpower that makes the projects you undertake largely very successful. The downside, however, is that there is a technology on the way that will usurp generalists like no other before it and will null and void a lot of the advantages you currently have over others. That sounds pretty frightening, and unfortunately I don’t think I’m exaggerating at all, although not everyone agrees with me on this right now. At some point you’ll need to make some bold moves because of this technology. Keep your eyes open and act decisively. Think deeply about what it means to be human and perhaps concentrate on some of those traits over raw technical skills over the next couple of decades - they will serve you well in a future where real human traits like compassion, generosity and agency become the most valuable.
You’re probably in Malaga at the moment right Jon? I think Phil wants you to head back soon and go to Brighton to study under a different supervisor for a bit. You should probably do that. Enjoy your time studying, but don’t obsess over it. I probably don’t need to tell you that you don’t end up making millions from your knowledge of amplitude modulation in voiced fricatives.
A few final words before I sign off. The important people around you now will largely be the exact same group that are with you when you’re twenty years older. They too will be twenty years older and be very different people, but the bonds you already have and will strengthen in years to come will end up being the most valuable thing you have. Some will save you from yourself, others will step up and protect you when the going is impossibly hard. You know that girl, Jessi, you met recently? Take care of her and mostly listen to her advice. Occasionally she’ll be off, but mostly, the decisions she guides you into will be the best you’ll ever make. Her stubbornness, consistency and conservatism are the perfect counterbalance to your sometimes unstable creative nature. I’m probably really pushing the rules by telling you this, but together you will make a formidable team.
It’s funny Jon, I know exactly what the next two decades hold for you. On the other hand, I don’t even know where I’ll be in a month’s time. I hope that I myself can heed some of the advice I’ve given you in this letter. I guess I’ll write you again in another 20 years with another load of advice. Perhaps you’ll write back and let me know how it went.
Lots of love
Jon