Nobody’s Reading This (And I’m Trying Hard Not to Care)

Validation is a bitch.

Like refined sugar, complex carbs, or nicotine, it exists only to provide short-term satisfaction, all the while fostering a detrimental, long-term dependency on the chemical reaction it triggers in my brain.

In the film Searching for Bobby Fischer, a fierce chess grand master, Bruce, has created a validation system for his child-prodigy student, Josh, to inspire him to solve difficult problems. The instructor rewards the seven-year-old with “master-class points” — which he claims are “a mysterious and powerful thing” that have only been given out “a few times in history.” To Bruce’s stoic delight, it works, and Josh begins making brilliant moves with the promise of the “master-class” paper certificate.

But then something happens: Josh suddenly can’t move without the promise of reward. In this pivotal scene, the student, playing white, refuses even open the game:

Josh: How many points is it worth?

Bruce: To make the opening move?

Josh: Yes.

Bruce: Forget the points.

Josh: How much is it worth if I do it?

Bruce: Do it for its own sake.

Josh: I want to know how close I am to getting the certificate.

Bruce: Forget that. […] It’s white’s move.

Josh: I want the certificate.

Bruce — the closest thing the film has to a villain — responds by pulling a stack of photocopied “certificates” from his bag and tossing them at the student. “Here’s your certificate. Fill it out. Doesn’t mean anything. It’s a piece of paper.”

The ensuing drama unfortunately subsumes the most important message: forget the meaningless external validation, make the move because you’re a chess player, and that’s what players do.

Psychologists have published this phenomenon to death — possibly even to the detriment of the general public. Products today are made to form habits. They’re designed with the understanding of the human psychological need for validation, and they leverage the myriad ways of tricking us into valuing this simulacrum of reward.

The fact is, Validation has waged guerrilla warfare against me. It’s hard to define, and therefore harder to combat. It disguises itself as everyday actions and lurks among the seemingly inert.

Don’t believe me?

Listen for the quaver in the voice of a friend who’s asked, after seeing himself in a mirror, “How do I look?”

Watch a colleague’s attention snap to her iPhone when its haptic response signals a flurry of incoming messages.

Observe the muted delight of the strap-hanger whose tablet has exploded into a frenzy of light and color upon the lining up of three like bananas.

Try to resist the throbbing red badge of an app or an incoming push notification.

Or — perhaps validation at its most insidious — observe someone turn a discussion into an argument to thwart the oncoming threat of being wrong. (This is a complicated one, of which I’ve been guilty too many times. I plan to dive deeper into it some other time.)

Each of these are cheap ways of feeling temporarily smart, powerful, beautiful, important, accomplished, needed. None outlast the moment, and each creates an unhealthy, long-term dependency (NB: endorphins can be addicting). Worse yet, it builds up a tolerance for validation the more I’m exposed to it.

While several of these are designed (perhaps even nefariously) to create dependencies on validation, others spawn from how naturally screwed up we are. The person telling me that I look great is no more objective than I am, and they receive no reward for honesty. No one is texting me because I’m important — they’re seeking validation of their own. Push notifications and badges were invented by people with their own, me-less agenda.

And those three bananas? They don’t even fucking exist.

We each build our own version of the Skinner Box and curl up inside it, waiting for some signal to tell us to tap, swipe, jump our way to feeling proud, sated, euphoric.

The good news is, I have a choice: succumb to the dependency-building whims of external validation, or identify that which is superficially validating and reject it.

To the point: I’m choosing to write this without the promise of any affirmation I’ve been read, liked, retweeted, shared, or commented upon. I’m leaving this tree to fall in the woods.

(Then why post it on a public site? External validation isn’t my only problem: I’m simultaneously struggling with introversion, solitude, restlessness, identity, social anxiety, The Resistance, and other issues helped by just putting thoughts out there. Contradictory? Maybe. I never promised to make sense.)

The bottom line: I’ve made this my first post because I need do something for reasons more important to me than the saccharine reward of external validation.

It’s important to me that I start here, with something that was mine, to remember what it’s like to just write and accept that as its own, intrinsic reward.

I needed to follow the chess grand master’s advice: do it for its own sake.