The Philosopher

Of course, lots of businesspeople have more than they "need." Yet they remain dissatisfied -- not just because of their out-of-control lives, but because they don't have even more. How do you make sense of that tendency?

There are two kinds of dissatisfaction in life: One is what I call the "dissatisfaction of acquisition." The other is the "dissatisfaction of aspiration." The dissatisfaction of acquisition centers on the drive to have more things. We live in a competitive culture -- a culture of more. And in such a culture, it's hard to set limits. I know people who own so many clothes that they've had to build extra closets to store everything they've bought. The dissatisfaction of acquisition is an unhealthy dissatisfaction; it's caused by a void that can never be filled.

The dissatisfaction of aspiration is a healthy dissatisfaction. It's not about what you want to acquire; it's about who you want to become. How much wisdom is enough? How many interesting ideas and experiences are enough? These are questions -- unlike, say, the question "How much money is enough?" -- for which there are no absolute answers. This form of dissatisfaction prompts you to grow, to expand your horizons, to be more loving, to be more effective at what you do. I don't know many people who can say, "I've done enough interesting things. I've learned enough. I've had enough compelling conversations." You can never have enough wisdom.

That's different from trading your Big Bertha golf clubs for a set of Great Big Berthas and then for a set of Biggest Big Berthas. The most elusive key to satisfaction is not getting what you want -- it's wanting what you get.

How can people find that "elusive" key?

One way to figure out what's worth striving for in the future is to assess your satisfaction with the present. One technique I use is a simple exercise that I call a "satisfaction audit." I ask people to write a heading on a piece of paper: "What I Do Not Like About My Life Right Now." And then I have them make a list. I also ask them to write down a second heading: "What I Do Like About My Life Right Now." Under that heading, they might include something about their friends, or their relationship with their children, or the work they're doing for a company that they really believe in. Then there's a third heading: "What I Do Not Like About My Job Right Now." And a fourth: "What I Do Like About My Job Right Now."

You can create these kinds of lists for any aspect of your life. They underscore the idea that improvement always involves preserving and enhancing the good while getting rid of, or changing, the bad.

Why do so many of us define success in ways that push us to excess?

Success should never be confused with wealth or power. Rather, success should be linked to excellence and fulfillment. Success is about who you are, not what you have. Successful people work to discover their talents, to develop those talents, and then to use those talents to benefit others as well as themselves.

Cicero, Socrates, and Sophocles would have had a field day with the "success literature" of the 20th century. It's all about how to get what you want. You want a big house? You want a nice car? You want a promotion? Then memorize the name of every person you meet. Shake hands firmly, and use people's names in conversation. The goal is to create a good image. But what people really need help with is understanding reality, not inventing an appearance. It was Heraclitus who said, "Character is destiny." We don't need to develop our personality. We need to cultivate our character.

Why is this misdefinition of success so widespread?

Our cultural models of success tend to be models of excess -- people like Bill Gates and Donald Trump: people with a monomaniacal devotion to one thing, rather than people who pursue excellence in many things. We notice the person who stands out, the person who runs a little faster, who jumps a little higher, who works a little harder than everyone else. And we admire such people: "I want to be like Mike." It's an imprinting phenomenon. (Think of the baby duck that walks just like its mother.) We emulate forms of success that look good, without ever asking this very important question: "What did these people sacrifice in the rest of their lives in order to excel at this one thing? Do I want to make that sacrifice?"

One of the most interesting philosophers in the ancient world was the Greek thinker known as Diogenes the Cynic. Diogenes uttered some profound pieces of wisdom: "He has the most who is most content with the least," and "Dogs and philosophers do the greatest good and get the fewest rewards."

One day, Alexander the Great visited Diogenes. Alexander was Diogenes's biggest fan and had dropped by to pay his respects. At the end of the visit, Diogenes asked Alexander what his plans were. Alexander answered that he planned to conquer and subjugate Greece. Then what? Diogenes asked. Alexander said that he planned to conquer and subjugate Asia Minor. And then? Alexander said that he planned to conquer and subjugate the world.