The first two chapters of David Brooks’ The Second Mountain: The Quest for a Moral Life (2019) were great. The rest had too much of an out-of-touch worldview to gain insights from, aside from a couple decent points here and there.
I heard about this book from a passing comment on LinkedIn and liked the premise: that the goals of a nice job, nice house, nice family, etc. might not be all there is to success. I was hoping to get something out of it. I’m not sure what exactly—something for my toolbox of ideas. But this didn’t happen. It mostly frustrated me as a reminder of how big the gap can be between different classes, genders, and perhaps generations.
Brooks begins by critiquing the “culture of individualism, authenticity, autonomy, and isolation” that emerged out of the 1960s in response to the previous reigning ethos of “We’re All in This Together” (pg 10). This “I’m Free to Be Myself” narrative has become hyper-individualism, he says, and made it harder for us (Americans) to “live bonded, communal lives” (pg 12).
Then he writes about how young people tend to finish college in a state of limbo, and drown in the freedom offered to them to be anything they want to be and not have anyone tell them what they have to do. They proceed from a life of school with structure and supervision into a world that doesn’t know who they are or care. This has certainly been the case for me and many of my fellow grads over the years. Each graduation brings a lack of transition into the next phase. One day you’re a student pursuing a degree, and the next you’re not, with no easing into the next phase unless you’re lucky enough to have lined up a job ahead of time. Not to mention the healthcare coverage gap…
Brooks’ argument then proceeds into dissecting how we need to turn aside from the individualistic pursuit we have been told will fulfill us, and instead search after a second mountain ethos, or a life pursuing meaning, moral joy, interdependence, relationships, and commitment.
It was in his discussion of making a commitment to a vocation that I started to question things. He celebrates George Orwell as a man who fulfilled his calling and committed himself to fighting fascism via his writing. Having recently heard about a book uncovering the untold story of Orwell’s spouse, Eileen, and her essential contributions to his success, I had trouble buying this story. Wasn’t Brooks playing into the very cult of individualism he had set out against? There was something missing: the means by which Orwell was able to support his vocation (see also Who Cooked Adam Smith’s Dinner? A Story about Women and Economics by Katrine Marçal).
But it was a few pages later when the story of William Wordsworth appeared that really brought on my frustration. Brooks discusses how Wordsworth was drifting through his mid-20s trying to find what to do with himself. He didn’t like university and bummed around London and France, abandoning the mother of his child along the way, then tried to get hired as a tutor in Ireland. But everything changed when his friend unexpectedly changed his will to include Wordsworth and then died young at age 21, and another friend let Wordsworth and his sister live at his country estate in exchange for tutoring services. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was supposed to take away from this. Following a vocation is only possible if you’re lucky enough get a big inheritance and free rent? We should celebrate another writer who left the burden of caring to women?
Of course, most people cannot expect to become a New York Times columnist and bestselling author like Brooks, or a famous writer like Orwell or Wordsworth. The message he presented in the opening chapters about how hard it was for young people to figure out what to do, was at odds with these celebrations of lone male writers. Yes, there were stories about others who have dedicated their lives to charitable endeavors, but the issue of financial compensation was curiously absent for a lot of the book.
Another point that sounded good but seemed hard to enact in the real world was from successful entrepreneur Fred Swaniker: “Those who have been fortunate to receive a good education, who are healthy, and have had great work experiences should not be solving small problems. If you were born lucky you should solve big problems” (pg 120). Even with a good education and good health, many people cannot find good jobs that use their skillsets and allow them to work on big problems. Just ask the thousands of people who have been sold on the idea that higher education is the ticket to making something of your life who find themselves working minimum-wage jobs or being un-/under-employed and wondering what it was all for.
I liked Brooks’ point about how philanthropy too often focuses on one program and wants impact from one intervention, rather than seeing the ecosystem of factors that could contribute to solving a problem. I wish he would have acknowledged the money issue rather than carefully sidestepping a discussion of changes in the economy and job market that have made it difficult to pursue a vocation or even just a job in one’s field of study.
The concept of the second mountain and not chasing after individualistic pursuits was good. But I’m not sure Brooks was the best writer to be exploring this topic in a way that would be relevant for everyday folks.