In week 15 of the humanities crash course, we started making our way out of classical antiquity and into the Middle Ages. The reading for this week was Boethius’s The Consolation of Philosophy, a book perhaps second only to the Bible in influencing Medieval thinking. I used the beautiful edition from Standard Ebooks. Readings Boethius was a philosopher, senator, and Christian born shortly after the fall of the Western Roman Empire. After a long, fruitful, and respectable life, he fell out of favor with the Ostrogothic king Theodoric and was imprisoned and executed without a trial. He wrote The Consolation while awaiting execution. Boethius imagines being visited in prison by a mysterious woman, Lady Philosophy, who helps him put his situation in perspective. He bemoans his luck. Lady Philosophy explains that he can’t expect to have good fortune without bad fortune. She evokes the popular image of the Wheel of Fortune, whose turns sometimes bring benefits and sometimes curses. She argues that rather than focusing on fortune, Boethius should focus on the highest good: happiness. She identifies true happiness with God, who transcends worldly goods and standards. They then discuss free will — does it exist? Lady Philosophy argues that it does and that it doesn’t conflict with God’s eternal knowledge since God exists outside of time. And how does one square God’s goodness with the presence of evil in the world? Lady Philosophy redefines power and punishment, arguing that the wicked are punished by their evil deeds: what may seem to us like a blessing may actually be a curse. God transcends human categories, including being in time. We can’t know God’s mind with our limited capabilities — an answer that echos the Book of Job. Audiovisual Music: classical works related to death: Schubert’s String Quartet No. 14 and Mozart’s Requiem. I hadn’t heard the Schubert quartet before; reading about it before listening helped me contextualize the music. I first heard Mozart’s Requiem in one of my favorite movies, Miloš Forman’s AMADEUS. It’s long been one of my favorite pieces of classical music. A fascinating discovery: while re-visiting this piece in Apple’s Classical Music app, I learned that the app presents in-line annotations for some popular pieces as the music plays. Listening while reading these notes helped me understand this work better. It’s a great example of how digital media can aid understandability. Art: Hieronymus Bosch, Albrecht Dürer, and Pieter Bruegel the Elder. I knew all three’s work, but was more familiar with Bosch and Dürer than with Bruegel. These videos helped: Cinema: among films possibly related to Boethius, Perplexity recommended Fred Zinnemann’s A MAN OF ALL SEASONS (1966), which won six Academy Awards including best picture. It’s a biopic of Sir Thomas More (1478—1535). While well-shot, scripted, and acted I found it uneven — but relevant. Reflections I can see why Perplexity would suggest pairing this movie with this week’s reading. Both Boethius and More were upstanding and influential members of society unfairly imprisoned and executed for crossing their despotic rulers. (Theodoric and Henry VIII, respectively.) The Consolation of Philosophy had parallels with the Book of Job: both grapple with God’s agency in a world where evil exists. Job’s answer is that we’re incapable of comprehending the mind of God. Boethius refines the argument by proposing that God exists outside of time entirely, viewing all events in a single, eternal act of knowing. While less philosophically abstract, the movie casts these themes in more urgent light. More’s crime is being principled and refusing to allow pressure from an authoritarian regime to compromise his integrity. At one point, he says I believe, when statesmen forsake their own private conscience for the sake of their public duties… they lead their country by a short route to chaos. Would that more people in leadership today had More’s integrity. That said, learning about the film’s historical context makes me think it paints him as more saintly than he likely was. Still, it offers a powerful portrayal of a man willing to pay the ultimate price for staying true to his beliefs. Notes on Note-taking ChatGPT failed me for the first time in the course. As I’ve done throughout, I asked the LLM for summaries and explanations as I read. I soon realized ChatGPT was giving me information for a different chapter than the one I was reading. The problem was with the book’s structure. The Consolation is divided into five books; each includes a prose chapter followed by a verse poem. ChatGPT was likely trained on a version that numbered these sections differently than the one I was reading. It took considerable back and forth to get the LLM on track. At least it suggested useful steps to do so. Specifically, it asked me to copy the beginning sentence of each chapter so it could orient itself. After three or so chapters of this, it started providing accurate responses. The lesson: as good as LLMs are, we can’t take their responses at face value. In a context like this — i.e., using it to learn about books I’m reading — it helps keep me on my toes, which helps me retain more of what I’m reading. But I’m wary of using AI for subjects where I have less competency. (E.g., medical advice.) Also new this week: I’ve started capturing Obsidian notes for the movies I’m watching. I created a new template based on the one I use for literature notes, replacing the metadata fields for the author and publisher with director and studio respectively. Up Next Gioia recommends Sun Tzu and Lao Tzu. I’ve read both a couple of times; I’ll only revisit The Art of War at this time. (I read Ursula Le Guin’s translation of the Tao Te Ching last year, so I’ll skip it to make space for other stuff.) Again, there’s a YouTube playlist for the videos I’m sharing here. I’m also sharing these posts via Substack if you’d like to subscribe and comment. See you next week!

Masters of Uncertainty: The Navy SEAL Way to Turn Stress into Success for You and Your Team By Rich Diviney  Amplify Publishing, 2025 We’re dealing with unprecedented levels of uncertainty. But that shouldn’t disempower us. Diviney, a former Navy SEAL, provides insights for becoming a “Master of Uncertainty” — i.e., adept at acting skillfully even in trying circumstances. The book is divided into three parts. The first explains how our bodies react to uncertain, fast-changing circumstances (e.g., with stress) and offers practical means for making the most of such conditions. For example, we can reframe our contexts (or “horizons”) to include only that which is in our immediate awareness and control and focus on small, near-term wins. We can also ask ourselves better questions and apply physical techniques (e.g., breathing patterns) to modulate stress. Reframing is an important component of the strategic design toolbox, so this section resonated with me. The second part of the book explores how our internal narratives — what we believe about ourselves and our goals — shape our behavior under uncertainty. Our attributes set natural constraints: for example, my physiology simply doesn’t allow me to be a pro basketball player. Self-identity is also powerful; it’s easier to quit smoking if you see yourself as a nonsmoker. And of course, having clear objectives is essential: you need to know what direction to move towards. Diviney echoes an idea we saw in On Grand Strategy: that you must keep the general direction in mind while paying attention to local conditions; if you encounter a swamp while traveling south, you may need to walk east for a while. Part three explains how to use these skills to develop teams that handle uncertainty effectively. Diviney proposes a leadership approach called dynamic subordination: Team members remain present and move in unison, working seamlessly to enhance one another’s strengths and buttress weaknesses. When one team member’s specific skills or attributes are needed, they step up and lead. The others then automatically move to support them fully. This requires deep trust and alignment, which is why there’s a chapter devoted to each. (The one on alignment focuses on developing a particular culture for your team.) Dynamic subordination offers a promising model for combining top-down direction with bottom-up adaptation to real-world conditions. Parts one and two echo Stoic ideas — especially around focus and self-regulation. Dynamic subordination was new to me. It sounds like a genuinely useful approach, albeit one that calls for 1) a very particular org culture and 2) a carefully vetted team. The SEALs meet both conditions; business teams less so. In our podcast, Harry said Masters of Uncertainty is in the running for his 2025 book of the year. I can see why: it’s a practical, short, and well-grounded guide for anyone designing teams or systems meant to thrive in fast-changing, unpredictable environments. (Aren’t they all?) Masters of Uncertainty by Rich Diviney

Alas, it’s time once again to revisit VUCA. Early in the pandemic, I gave two presentations about dealing with uncertainty. Institutions were struggling to respond to COVID. Many people were freaking out. But not me: I had a conceptual framework that helped me make sense of what was going on. Now that we’re again living through uncertainty, I wanted to share what I said at the time. Turns out, I never wrote about the framework itself. Let’s correct that. When contexts shift, it’s harder to act skillfully. The end of the Cold War was such a time. The tense order that emerged after World War II had ended; military leaders had to make decisions in unfamiliar territory. In response, the U.S. Army War College produced VUCA, a framework for describing unsettling contexts. It’s an acronym of their four main characteristics: Volatility: things are changing fast and often. You may understand what’s happening, but the pace of change makes it hard to respond skillfully. Uncertainty: you may understand the challenge’s basic cause and effect, but not much else. Key knowledge might be missing, but you don’t know. Complexity: the challenge has too many factors and components to grok. You have access to information — perhaps too much to connect the dots. Ambiguity: the situation is unclear, even if you have information. Causal relationships aren’t obvious, and past experiences may not apply. These four characteristics are often rendered in a 2x2 matrix. One dimension measures the degree to which we can predict the results of our actions. The other measures how much we know. For example, if we can’t predict outcomes and lack reliable knowledge, we’re in ambiguity. If we understand the situation but things are changing rapidly, we’re facing volatility. Adapted from a diagram by Nate Bennett and G. James Lemoine in the Harvard Business Review As you may expect, different characteristics call for different responses. My understanding comes from Bob Johansen’s VUCA Prime framework, which I paraphrase here: Volatility calls for vision. Draw a clear, compelling picture of where you’re heading beyond the current turmoil. Uncertainty calls for understanding. Look past headlines to the deeper forces driving change. Complexity calls for clarity. Map the system; get a grip on the entities and relationships driving change. Ambiguity calls for agility. Take the next small step; get your bearings; correct course quickly. Keeping cool isn’t easy, but it can be done. It requires some detachment. Tune out the news and take a longer-term view. Read the Stoics. Ask yourself: what’s the worst that could happen? How much is actually under your control? How can you take care of yourself, your family, and your community? Managing and structuring information flows is crucial. You need systems that surface the right information — clear, trustworthy, timely, and aligned with your goals. Information architects can help, since our focus is designing environments that support insight and skillful action. Above all, don’t panic. Nobody guaranteed this would be an easy ride. Change is the nature of things. If you panic, you’ll freeze or thrash about; either response makes things worse. Business as usual isn’t in the cards for us, but acting skillfully can be. If you found these ideas useful, check out Johansen’s Leaders Make the Future, which offers ten skills leaders can develop to thrive in a VUCA world. Much of what I know about the subject comes from this practical, well-grounded book. (Aaand… I just realized there’s a new edition — time to re-visit!)

During week 14 of the humanities crash course, I explored foundational myths of Western Culture — written during the Roman Empire when decadence was setting in. I paired them with a classic film about social decadence set in mid-20th century Rome. Readings Gioa’s recommendations were a bit more open-ended this week: books 1 and 2 of the Aeneid, book 1 of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and “selected Roman poems and aphorisms.” Rather than read a whole book, I sought out some of these latter shorter works online. I also read the most famous section of the Satyricon. The Aeneid is one of the classic epic poems of antiquity. Written by Virgil between 29 and 19 BCE, it aimed to formalize founding myths for the Roman Empire. It’s a sort of sequel to the Iliad and explicitly echoes the Odyssey’s structure. Fortunately, I only had read the first two books: Book 1: As Aeneas sails toward Italy after the events of the Trojan war; the gods conjure a storm that scatters the fleet. Aeneas and his crew are shipwrecked on the coast of Libya. The goddess Venus guides them to nearby Carthage, where Queen Dido is building a new city. She asks Aeneas to tell his story. Book 2: Aeneas recounts the fall of Troy, focusing on the Trojan horse episode. Despite warnings, the Trojans bring the gift horse into the city, only to be overwhelmed by the Greek soldiers hiding inside. King Priam is killed in the ensuing fight; Aeneas is about to kill himself in despair but the ghost of Hector urges him to flee instead. I said “fortunately” because these poems were the least pleasant reading I’ve done so far in the course. Perhaps it’s due to the translation I used, but it might also be because this work was created to glorify the Roman emperor. Like most ideological art, I found it pompous and tedious. In many ways, Metamorphoses was its opposite. Written later, (2-8 CE,) its focus is mythology drawn from the classic Greek pantheon, but parsed through Roman sensibilities. The theme is transformation: gods, demigods, and humans shapeshift, becoming plants, animals, constellations, etc. to change the trajectory of events or escape suffering Like the Aeneid, Metamorphoses also explores the foundations of Roman imperial rule, but it comes to the subject from a more ironic and irreverent POV. By focusing on change, the poem has interesting parallels with Buddhist teachings and the I Ching. Given its tone, cadence, and subject matter, I enjoyed it more than the Aeneid. The third major work this week was Petronius’s Satyricon, arguably the first Western novel. It was written during the reign of emperor Nero (mid 1st-century CE,) and only fragments survive. They present the misadventures of Encolpius and his companions Giton (a former slave and teenage lover) and Ascyltus, a friend, antagonist, and former lover. The novel portrays a morally chaotic and decadent society reveling in excess, deception, and sensuous pleasures. I read the most famous section, Trimalchio’s feast, which provides vivid descriptions of Roman excesses during this time. Characters come across as tone-deaf — especially the nouveau riche, whose vulgarity and self-importance must have seemed outrageous even to people with moral standards very different from ours. I was surprised at how richly these characters were portrayed — and how little people have changed in two millennia. Audiovisual Music: Arias by Puccini and Verdi. This is the second time during the course I’ve listened to opera: a medium I love but don’t include much in my regular rotation. This was a good opportunity to revisit some of these magnificent works. Art: Gioia recommended looking at cave paintings. I punted. Several years ago, I saw Werner Herzog’s CAVE OF FORGOTTEN DREAMS, and had my fill for cave paintings. Cinema: I read the Satyricon this week because I saw Fellini’s adaptation in college. At the time, I also saw his LA DOLCE VITA. Even though LDV is the more famous of the two, my memory of it was fuzzier, so I chose to revisit it now. Marcello Mastroianni plays Marcello, a womanizing gossip journalist drifting through postwar Rome. He has serious aspirations as a novelist, but allows himself to be swept along by the seductive currents of Roman nightlife and celebrity culture. Like the Satyricon, we get story fragments rather than a unified plot. The fragments loosely echo the seven deadly sins and seven sacraments of the Catholic Church, framing the film as a kind of spiritual inventory of modern life. I was surprised this classic film was only available to stream through Plex. It was a poor experience, riddled with ads and useless subtitles. My Italian is rusty, but I got most of the film anyway. (I may start seeing other Italian and French movies without subtitles as practice.) Reflections The common thread this week was social decadence — especially the kind that takes hold when a society grows too wealthy and powerful for its own good. I read the Aeneid as a puff piece intended to instill a false sense of pride through a constructed continuity with the Greek civilization Romans admired — and supplanted. Metamorphoses took a more lighthearted approach, suggesting all things pass and that change is the only constant. Both the Satyricon and LA DOLCE VITA illuminated the vulgarity and moral emptiness at the core of decadence, turning it into ironic — and sometimes painful — entertainment. Can we see our own time with such detachment? Can we recognize the Virgils trying to enshrine the inexcusable? The Ovids who myth-make more lightly and playfully? Or the Petroniuses and Fellinis who nudge us to laugh — and maybe cry — at the foolishness and pain of living adrift in a sensuous world? Notes on Note-taking Given my difficulties with the Aeneid, I found its Wikipedia page insightful. The summary of books 1 and 2 gave me an outline to better understand the work. As with previous weeks, I also bounced reflections off ChatGPT and summarized using the Obsidian Text Generator plugin. Both helped me grok the readings and how they relate to each other. A realization on process: writing these posts helps me focus and power through even when readings get tedious. If I hadn’t committed to sharing publicly, I likely would’ve bailed on the Aeneid. I read with more focus and attention when knowing I’ll publish these little “book reports” at the end of the week. Up Next From Gioia’s description, I expect next week’s reading — Boethius’s On the Consolation of Philosophy — will be highly relevant to our current predicament. Again, there’s a YouTube playlist for the videos I’m sharing here. I’m also sharing these posts via Substack if you’d like to subscribe and comment. See you next week!