Leads to: Extrovert Critic: “You Read Too Much”
The acquisition of knowledge has a very different meaning to introverts and extroverts.
Extroverts: Learning is a means to an ends
Introverts: Learning is an end unto itself.
Extroverts learn something so they can get something. They usually have a very precise goal for pursuing information. What is their goal? It is almost always to get some kind of socially recognized title or certificate. Without some kind of tangible end result that manifests in one’s social relationships, there is no reason at all to learn. It is a very typical pattern for an extrovert to plow through countless dry textbooks in order to be awarded some crucial social distinction and then be perfectly happy never again reading another book. After all books are a waste of time once one has ‘punched the ticket.’ Thereafter, from the Loud perspective, it’s the water cooler interactions and the networking that matters. For an extrovert, learning is something that is done to you by others. To teach oneself would be unthinkable, and well, even if it could be done, it would be boring. Most importantly, one would go through endless hours of trouble without even a promised social stamp of approval at the end.
Introverts learn something because it is fun. There may not be any immediate or tangible goal. Or rather, there are multiple goals, some of them tangible and others more in the realm of dream. Learning is the lifeblood and life purpose of the true introvert. They will acquire whatever knowledge is necessary to make it in society, but will continue to both broaden and augment their knowledge throughout their lives. Or often, the recreational accumulation of knowledge and skills gives an introvert everything they need to succeed. It is a very typical pattern for an introvert to get the skills they need and then keep on learning and expanding just as before. They read books to get where they are, they keep on reading until the grave. For the true introvert, all learning starts with the personal volition to learn and love of knowledge. Learning starts with the self and not with society and social institutions. An introvert gets formal instruction because they too need formal stamps of approval and because they genuinely enjoy social interaction that revolves around the exchange of information. However, the instruction of others is just a tool that facilitates the process of self-learning. From the Subtle perspective learning is not done to us. Rather we do it to ourselves out of love of knowledge and get help from others along the way. Social stamps of approval are nice, but they never were the source of motivation. There is no end to learning. Instead, it is a personal lifelong journey.
The Insanity of Defining the Self By Society
Very recently, I found myself on one of Southern California’s mega highways in the company of a highly extroverted friend of mine.
3 PM had just hit and we were desperately struggling to get free of the LA area before it was too late.
‘We’ll be fine once we get past the 605′ he said. On his cell phone roadmap, we could see red zones of congestion spreading by the minute.
Almost by the minute, traffic was moving slower and slower. Without a guardian spirit on our side, we would soon be gridlocked.
In these type of Calfornian conditions, one is looking down four enormous completely packed lanes. One can see thousands upon thousands of cars stretching into the distance. There’s plenty of time to look around and take stock of everyone else’s hummers, luxury SUVs, audis, and lexuses. All of these high end vehicles as far as the eye can see. Thousands upon thousands stretching into the distance. The remarkable and respectable becomes banal and vulgar. The bar of competition rises that much higher. Late on a cloudy afternoon, people’s headlights start to come on. Countless pairs of glowing insectoid eyes fill the view of every driver.
Suddenly the whole place and its sheer excess made sense to me. I turned to my friend and goaded him. “I think I get SoCal now.” I told him. “You all are in your little car among millions and have to tell yourselves, ‘I’m not just another drone like all those people I see around me.’ You have to be able to tell yourselves that you are better. It drives all of you to your famous levels of ambition.”
My friend has run for political office, has the social graces to charm an entire room full of people and become the life of the party. He is highly intelligent and can engage people at a cocktail party on nearly any subject. He can speak fluent Spanish and is as comfortable deer hunting in the mountains as he is sipping port and taking a fine cigar at his favorite watering hole. In short, he is a very electable person.
He had to concede that indeed he had to believe that he was not just another drone. That he was a unique SoCal overachiever, not just the regular kind. He chuckled at these existential dilemmas because it’s kind of a game between us. Yet he will continue his life’s task toward recognition regardless.
Earlier, that day in L.A., I had noticed the exact same phenomenon we experienced on that highway. It was just like Ancient Rome with its seven hills or even an ancient Mesopotomian city with ziggurats towering over the common hovels. In every day life, there was no escaping the life-defining fact of social competition. The richest and poorest of a nation are there in the same place at the same time. On the heights are the palaces of the winners. In the flatland gaps between hills are places where even the city’s 13,000 cops don’t dare to go. Never before had I seen such stark contrast.
I saw one winner’s balcony in particular jutting out over a crowded shambles below. “They must come out and give Benediction to the Masses,” I joked. My friend had cracked up as I raised my arms in imitation of the Pope. Surprise, surprise, more than one person has called me a cynic and condemned the dark nature of my humor.
The whole place was spectacular in its glorious decadence and inconceivable squalor. Each one was all the more striking for the other. I saw hordes of people without a penny within sight of the famous Hollywood sign.
L.A. is an excess even for my friend. He much prefers the more moderate and austere character of San Diego. Once we had gotten past the 605 we were free to zoom wherever we pleased through the Californian countryside.
It was dark outside and quiet as we drove along. “It’s completely insane.” I said, still stunned by the day’s experience.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Insane.”
It was more evident to me than ever that it is pure folly to allow society to define oneself. It is foolishness and futility to judge oneself by the masses. Without self-definition first one becomes lost in a cruel and elemental jungle of arbitrary social distinctions.
So long as I self-define, I could live in peace even sleeping on a bus bench at the foot of a hill slathered with the homes of famous actors. The famous actors on high are no doubt busily competing amongst one another. No matter their luxurious trappings, the character of their existence could not be said to be essentially different from that in the slums below. No matter who you are, there are always bigger fish, and if no bigger fish, life’s purpose has come to an end.