Slow Discipline
I wanted to post this entry today, January 20th, also known as Blue Monday, often referred to as the “most depressing day.” Apparently, there is no evidence to support this claim; the concept was introduced by a travel company in 2005, presumably to tempt people into purchasing flights. I can understand why this day might feel like a letdown, as it coincides with people abandoning their New Year’s resolutions. A study conducted by Strava, a social fitness platform that tracks physical exercise, found that January 19th—a day they dubbed “Quitter’s Day”—is when most people give up on their resolutions.
Even if no goals were explicitly set for the year, surely some were wished for. The “fresh start effect” refers to the phenomenon where a “temporal landmark,” such as a birthday or the beginning of a month or year, increases motivation toward new behavior. The notion of leaving something behind or starting anew on a temporal landmark is indeed a tempting prospect. However, it is easy to become overly reliant on motivation. Discipline, on the other hand, is harder to maintain, and its absence may be why Quitter’s Day precedes Blue Monday.
I wrote about discipline before, calling it the “most boring value.” In that entry, I argued that discipline (defined as “doing what is perceived to be necessary, even when it is unpleasant”) is a value, not a virtue (defined as “a value that is always good”), because applying discipline can sometimes be foolish. Here are some examples of foolish discipline:
Ego lifting: Lifting heavier weights beyond one’s current strength, which compromises form and increases the likelihood of injury.
Burnout culture: Working excessively long hours in ways that degrade one’s health, often leading to an emotional crash.
Spiritual bypassing: Engaging in meditative practices to reach non-ordinary states of consciousness as a way to avoid facing uncomfortable personal issues.
A wise application of discipline is good because doing what’s beneficial—whether it’s taking care of your body, watching what you eat, or resisting “The Pull” of the internet—requires discipline. It is especially necessary for those who want to be successful, which is why many male podcasters, whom I refer to as “hustle narcissists,” worship former Navy SEAL David Goggins, arguably the paragon of discipline.
I previously wrote favorably about Goggins, suggesting that his purpose is not to encourage others to replicate his incredible feats of discipline—such as running ultramarathons and completing three Hell Weeks—but to inspire people to see what’s possible with more discipline by asking themselves: “What would you do if you had Goggins-level discipline?”
Some may continue doing what they’re already doing, but most people would probably do more, following through on their commitments beyond Quitter’s Day. While I still agree with much of what I’ve written about discipline, I recently had a simple insight that modifies my position, which I think is worth sharing on Blue Monday: discipline is different from mental toughness.
I believe the hustle narcissists and those who foolishly apply discipline conflate the two, especially in their veneration of Goggins. Inarguably, Goggins possesses both discipline and mental toughness, the latter showcased in his various stories, such as his experience with the San Diego One Day.
Goggins, who was not a runner at the time, weighed 240 pounds—well overweight for a marathon runner. He decided to run Badwater 135, one of the toughest ultramarathons in the world. To qualify, he signed up for the San Diego One Day, a 24-hour race, with an unheard-of setup: a bottle of water and a pack of crackers.
Despite massive blisters, kidney failure, and urinating blood, Goggins finished the race, cementing his legend. While this was an obvious display of discipline, it is more so an example of mental toughness. In truth, most people just need more discipline to avoid Quitter’s Day, not more Goggins-tier mental toughness. Confusing the two not only leads to quitting but also adds unnecessary shame and feelings of inadequacy.
Mental toughness can be great, but increasing one’s discipline does not necessarily require tremendous amounts of it. The problem with confusing the two arises when someone leverages the fresh start effect to do something new and aims too high, believing that if they were just like Goggins—applying mind over matter—they could accomplish anything. Instead of setting a modest target, they go straight to the most ambitious one.
For example, let’s say someone’s resolution is to wake up earlier, engage in cardio, and start writing. They commit to the following practices:
5 am rising
30 minutes of HIIT
90 minutes of writing
If their average wake-up time is around 9 a.m., they haven’t done cardio in years, and they have no writing practice, it’s unlikely they’d continue beyond Quitter’s Day—unless they possess strong mental toughness, which most people lack. The good news is that they could reach these targets if they dropped the notion of mental toughness and allowed for a slower approach. For example, instead of jumping straight to the above desired targets, a person could follow this plan:
Week 1: 8:45 am rising, 5 mins of HIIT, 30 mins of writing
Week 2: 8:30 am rising, 8 mins of HIIT, 40 mins of writing,
Week 3: 8:15 am rising, 11 mins of HIIT, 50 mins of writing
…
Waking up just 15 minutes earlier, working out three minutes more, and writing an additional 10 minutes per week until reaching their target requires some discipline, less mental toughness, and is more likely to build and compound one’s discipline. This approach is much more sustainable and achievable for those who lack Goggins-level mental strength.
Choose a life practice, aim ideally, and implement changes incrementally at a pace that matches or slightly exceeds—rather than drastically surpasses—your current level of mental toughness. Before you know it, you’ll see yourself as a disciplined person. This isn’t to say that the goal of increasing one’s mental toughness isn’t a worthy pursuit, but for most people, consistency with the basics—exercise, diet, sleep, and a creative or spiritual practice—is more critical, and a slow, disciplined approach can achieve this.
I suspect the reason for the conflation and the tendency to reach too high too soon either stems from greed or a desire to mask deep insecurities, coupled with the false belief that fixing one’s life overnight will also heal the emotional wounds they are unwilling to address. The good news is that more discipline, wisely applied, offers the spaciousness to lovingly explore what remains unexamined.
If you have any questions, insights, feedback, or criticism on this entry or more generally, message me below (I read and respond on Saturdays) …