Navigating the Treacherous Waters of "Good Enough"
: Combating the Inertia Default in Midlife
Alright, sit yourselves down, gentlemen. Let’s talk about the elephant in the room, or perhaps more accurately, the rather sluggish beast currently residing on your collective sofas. We've discussed the merits of embracing the unconventional, the guerrilla tactics needed to fight the creeping apathy of middle age. But before you even think about launching your personal insurgency, we need to address the primary obstacle standing in your way, a cunning and insidious foe: Inertia.
As the esteemed Edward L. Bernays, the father of public relations himself, put it, "The great enemy of any attempt to change men's habits is inertia. Civilisation is limited by inertia." He wasn’t wrong. Look around, not just at the broader strokes of society, but closer to home. How many of us are stuck in a rut, perfectly aware that it's a rut, yet seemingly incapable of climbing out? This, my friends, is the insidious power of the inertia default.
Consider my own rather uncomfortable experience with a restaurant chain investment in the mid-2000s. A seemingly brilliant opportunity, led by a CEO who initially did all the right things. I plunged a significant chunk of my hard-earned dosh into it. Over time, though, the subtle shifts began. A fair partnership soured into a dictatorship, like a pot of water slowly coming to the boil – barely noticeable until it’s overflowing and scalding you.
I'd made a decent return, believed in the company's future, and was therefore hesitant to pull the plug. Each transgression by the CEO was minor, easy to rationalise away. "He's under pressure," I’d tell myself. "It's just a one-off." It was only when I finally extracted myself from the situation, gained some much-needed perspective, that the sheer scale of his behavioural shift became clear. I came perilously close to losing a substantial amount of money simply because I was slow to act, pushed along by the inertia default.
This default pushes us to maintain the status quo. Starting something new is bloody hard work, no doubt about it. But stopping something–even something detrimental–can feel equally monumental. We resist change even when, deep down, we know it's the best course of action. The Latin root of "inertia" means "inertness," which in plain English translates to laziness or idleness. In physics, it’s about an object’s resistance to changes in its state of motion. Newton's first law tells us that a body in motion tends to stay in motion, and a body at rest tends to stay at rest. Unless an external force acts upon it, nothing changes.
This isn't just about physics; it's a bloody accurate description of human behaviour. As the physicist Leonard Mlodinow notes, "Once our minds are set in a direction, they tend to continue in that direction unless acted upon by some outside force." This "cognitive inertia" explains why changing our minds, even in the face of overwhelming evidence, is so difficult.
Inertia keeps us in jobs we despise and in relationships that drain our energy, not because they're inherently good, but because they're predictable. Our expectations, however low they might be, are reliably met, and there's a perverse comfort in that. Change, on the other hand, is a leap into the unknown, a potential for discomfort and even failure.
One of the primary drivers of this inertia is the sheer lack of effort required to maintain the status quo. Building momentum in life – starting a new habit, tackling a challenging project, revitalising a relationship – takes a considerable amount of effort. But once something is "good enough," the effort often stops, and we simply Coast along, relying on old techniques and standards, even when they’re woefully suboptimal. The inertia default leverages our instinctive desire to remain firmly within our comfort zone.
Another reason we resist change is the inherent asymmetry of outcomes. We tend to feel the sting of negative results far more acutely than the triumph of positive ones. Doing something different carries the risk of looking like a complete bloody idiot, of landing somewhere below average. Why risk that when you can comfortably reside in the "zone of average"?
We see this inertia in countless daily habits. Sticking to the same brand of biscuits at the supermarket, even if a potentially superior one is sitting right next door. It requires effort to evaluate the newcomer, and there’s the risk of disappointment. This is why companies give out free samples – a low-risk way to get you to overcome that initial inertia and try something new.
We flatter ourselves with the notion that we’re open-minded, that we’ll readily change our beliefs when presented with new facts. History, however, suggests otherwise. The initial scepticism towards the automobile, the aeroplane, radio, television, and the internet – all faced similar resistance before irrevocably transforming our lives. This wasn't a rational assessment of the technology; it was inertia at play, clinging to the comfortably familiar horse and carriage.
The "zone of average" is a particularly dangerous bog when it comes to inertia. It’s that point where things aren't terrible, but they’re certainly not thriving. We are "too good to leave, too bad to stay," as the saying goes. We hope, passively, that things will magically improve. They rarely do. We are stuck in this stagnant pond because the prospect of the effort and uncertainty required to make a change feels too daunting.
This inertia also makes us "double down" when we’re demonstrably wrong. The famous, albeit misattributed, quote about adaptability – "It is the one that is most adaptable to change" – rings true regardless of its origin. When circumstances shift, we must adapt. But inertia, a powerful closing of the mind, stifles the motivation to change our approach. It makes it harder to imagine alternative methods, discouraging experimentation and course correction.
Public statements, for example, can create their own form of inertia. Putting something on the record establishes expectations, both for others and ourselves. When new information emerges that contradicts our declared position, our instinct is often to dismiss it, to cling to the old information that supported our original statement. We want to appear consistent, even if it means being consistently wrong. The fear of being labelled a "flip-flopper" often trumps the intellectual honesty of changing our minds in the face of new facts.
Inertia also prevents us from undertaking hard but necessary tasks. The longer we avoid that difficult conversation, that challenging project, that much-needed change in habit, the harder it becomes to even contemplate it. What begins as avoiding a small, slightly uncomfortable conversation can quickly snowball into the avoidance of a large, seemingly impossible one. The weight of what we avoid becomes a crushing burden, impacting our relationships, our careers, our very sense of self.
Groups, too, are fertile ground for inertia. They often prioritise conformity over effectiveness, rewarding adherence to the status quo and subtly punishing deviation. The threat of standing out from the crowd, of being seen as different or challenging the norm, is a powerful force that keeps people in line. This group inertia is, frankly, why some friends of mine ended up getting married in the first place. As one rather sheepishly admitted, "All the signs were there that it might not work out, but it seemed like a lot to start over with someone new, and everyone around us was getting engaged, so that's what we did."
This isn't just about careers and relationships; inertia can have genuinely harmful consequences for our health and well-being. Alice Hamilton, a brilliant industrial toxicologist in the early 20th century, provided irrefutable evidence of the dangers of lead exposure. Yet, despite this clear evidence, powerful corporations like General Motors continued to produce lead-fueled vehicles for decades. Inertia, driven by vested interests and a resistance to change, costs lives and causes untold harm. Even today, lead persists in some applications despite readily available, safer alternatives simply because of the weight of inertia.
Inertia keeps us doing things that simply aren't working, things that don’t get us what we truly want. It operates largely in our subconscious, a hidden current pulling us towards the path of least resistance, until its effects are so deeply entrenched they are nigh on impossible to counter.
So, be on your guard, gentlemen. If you find yourself biting your tongue in group settings, if you see yourself or your team resisting change simply because "that's how we've always done it," if you're stuck in that comfortable-but-stifling "zone of average" – understand that the inertia default is almost certainly at work. Recognising it is the first, and arguably most crucial, step in overcoming it. We'll delve into how to actually combat this beast in future dispatches. For now, simply acknowledge its power and be prepared to fight back. This is a battle you cannot afford to lose.
Life is a constant evolution, a dance with change that shapes who we are and where we’re headed. And just like life, this site is transforming once more. I don’t yet know where this journey will lead, but that’s the beauty of it—each shift brings us closer to where we’re meant to be.
Change is not a sign of uncertainty, but of growth. It’s the path we must take to uncover our true purpose. And while we may not always understand where life is guiding us, it’s in the act of seeking, of embracing the flow, that we discover our direction.
Imagine life as a river, with its tides, currents, and eddies. If we fight against the current, we tire and falter. But if we surrender to it, letting it guide us, we might just find ourselves exactly where we’re meant to be.
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