Humans Will Literally Spend $1000s on Online Courses Instead of Going to Therapy
March 23, 2021
I’ve signed up for many online courses. I’ve paid one-time fees from $9.99 to $800 and paid monthly subscriptions for sites that only taught my bank account subtraction. I’ve participated in seminars on the philosophers Deleuze and Heidegger, tried multiple introductions to drawing, taken deep dives and brief overviews of programming topics. Reflecting on the courses I’ve enrolled in, started, partially completed, fully completed, abandoned, and am actively in now, I’ve come to better understand what motivated me to sign up in the first place.
Fighting Imposter Syndrome
Because I got into software engineering through a bootcamp (12-week learning-intensive compared to a traditional 4-year computer science degree), I registered for multiple coding courses. I’d often feel precarious when I compared myself to folks with technical degrees. Credentialism sucks. In place of getting a master’s, I thought I could plod hours into online courses and substitute a degree with grit. In reflection, I’d be far better off just building things with the skills I already had, and only turning to online courses when I found an actual need, like signing up for a comprehensive course on test writing, when I need to start writing tests.
F*ck you skillset
For those not familiar with the phrase “F*ck you money,” it means the amount of wealth one would need to say “F*ck you” to any individual or organization and not face repercussions. If you work a job you hate, because you have obligations (children/loans/lifestyle), it’s the amount you’d need to quit that job on a whim, burning bridges on your way out, and be fiscally okay. The number varies whether the only person you care to say “F*ck you” to is your employer, versus someone like Elon Musk who basically said it to the SEC.
As I passed on opportunities that were high earning, but personally soul-crushing (much love to my friends in finance), I instead found myself trying to get a “F*ck you skillset,” the assortment of skills that would ensure I could always provide for myself without a large drop in standard of living. What I’ve realized, is that I didn’t want “F*ck you” money or skills, I just wanted to be intellectually and emotionally vulnerable and thought I needed impenetrable economic security to do that.
Turns out you don’t, you just need two things. 1) The courage to be disliked. Not everyone will like you. Not everyone will be your audience. Accept that and unwarranted criticism will be a minor annoyance. 2) For some people to emotionally resonate when they read your work, even if the grammar/structure/sentences blow. You don’t need to be understood universally, understood by some is more than enough.
Technical Self-Expression as Vulnerability Protection
If you can’t just be vulnerable, why not hide your vulnerability through technical precision? For as much as art is talent and self-expression, it’s also a technical skill. The work of the artist was presented to me as an idle endeavor, the pursuit of those with financial means or those with more soul than sense. But there was an exception, mastery is undeniable. Examine a photo-realistic painting, even if it doesn’t trigger an emotional response, the skill and hard work it takes to create that is astounding.
The online Atelier, the drawing basics course I discovered through the book “Ultralearning”, the various digital art courses (pixel animation, Blender, Maya, Photoshop), all things purchased, intros watched and never revisited. I didn’t want to learn to draw or create 3D scenes, I wanted to express myself, and thought I could justify it as the pursuit of a difficult skill.
Takeaways
The title of this piece is both homage to the memes I’ve seen online and truthful. The insights I’ve gained are the kind of thing I expect you could get from working with a therapist. But I also know that I’ve kept a close guard when it comes to being vulnerable, and I’m not sure I would have been able to open up enough for it to have worked for me.
What I’d like for you to take from this piece, isn’t that you shouldn’t take online courses. I’ve only managed to write this piece because I’m enrolled in Write of Passage. I’d like you to pause whenever you want something. Want it enough to take action, to pay money, or to spend your time. Please, meditate on whether it is a substitution for something else.
I’ve spent much of my life wanting things because friends, family, marketing, media, all told me I should want or need them. I thought I needed to do more to compete with credentials. I thought I needed economic security to speak my mind. I thought I needed skill to justify self-expression. I don’t need any of those things.
If you have an image of who or where you want to be, check if that image is really what you want, and if it is, check if you need a long roadmap to get there, or if you can start being there today.
Written by Paul Mills who lives and works in San Francisco building useful things. You should follow him on Twitter