Addicted to Idols
Addicted to Idols
The Dangerous Comfort of Outsourcing Your Life
"The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, and wiser people so full of doubts." — Bertrand Russell
Have you found yourself hanging on every word of a charismatic leader, feeling euphoric when your team wins, or finding solace in a religious doctrine? We've all had these experiences at one time or another.
We're still living in a world of idol worship, a phenomenon that transcends individual experiences. We're seeking figures and idols to give our lives meaning, direction, and, most dangerously, certainty.
As someone who often finds himself on the outside looking in—an agnostic in a world of believers, a non-politician surrounded by partisans, and more likely to be found with my nose in a book than cheering at a stadium—I've been fascinated by observing this phenomenon. It intrigues and scares me; I'm sure many of you can relate.
Since humans are humans, we've been addicted to idols. Whether it's a political figurehead promising to solve all our problems, a sports star embodying our dreams of greatness, or a religious leader offering the comfort of eternal salvation, we're outsourcing the hard work of living our lives.
But this addiction comes at a cost. Whenever we blindly place our faith in an external figure or ideology, we give away a piece of our autonomy, critical thinking, and, ultimately, our responsibility for our lives.
I've had my doses of idols, all with bad results. Although I'm not anti-religion, anti-politics, or anti-sports, in recent years, I’ve become anti-idolizing.
Are you willing to confront the ways you might be outsourcing your life?
The Allure of Certainty
Is it any wonder we're drawn to pockets of seeming certainty? Religion, politics, and sports offer us just that - islands of predictability in an ocean of chaos.
Let's start with religion. It's the ultimate certainty provider. Consider the allure of a belief system that promises eternal salvation for following a set of rules. The comfort in thinking that life's complexities can be reduced to simple directives from a higher power. These faiths offer moral guidelines and a complete worldview that supposedly explains everything.
They whisper, "Don't worry about the big questions. We have all the answers." The promise of heavenly reward or cosmic justice can be incredibly seductive. It's a bargain many find irresistible: surrender your doubts, follow the rules, and be pardoned for all eternity. There's no need to grapple with ethical dilemmas or existential questions - it's all been figured out for you. This certainty, this absolution of responsibility for figuring things out on your own, can feel like a warm blanket.
Politics, while often messy, sells us another form of certainty. It promises structure, change, and solutions to society's ills. Political campaigns are masterful at crafting slogans and narratives that offer a vision of a better future, often playing on our hopes and fears. These catchy phrases aren't just clever marketing; they're selling a promise of transformation.
Whether it's a pledge to return to a romanticized past or a call to build a utopian future, political movements offer a clear, simple path forward. They present complex societal issues as straightforward problems with easy solutions. All you need to do is vote right and support the right policies, and everything will be fixed. This simplified worldview is incredibly appealing. It tells us, "You don't need to worry about the intricacies of governance or economics. Just follow our lead, and we'll create the perfect society." It's a seductive offer – the chance to solve all society's problems without grappling with their complexity just by voting for X or Y person.
And sports? They're the most brilliant purveyors of certainty. In a game, unlike in life, there are clear rules, defined boundaries, and undisputed winners and losers. When your team wins the Super Bowl or the World Cup, everything feels right with the world for those fleeting moments. The euphoria of victory (or even the clarity of defeat) temporarily escapes life's ambiguities.
These certainties we cling to—be it in religion, politics, or sports—create comforting narratives. They tell us that the world makes sense, that there's a clear right and wrong, and that we're on the right side. They assure us that everything will be ok if we believe hard enough, cheer loudly, or vote the right way. Is that so?
"I have never met a man so ignorant that I couldn't learn something from him."
—Galileo Galilei
The Cult of Personality
Why are we so quick to put people on pedestals?
Our tendency to idolize people isn't just a quirk of modern celebrity culture - it's deeply rooted in our psychology and history.
Think about it.
Religious prophets, political leaders, and star athletes aren't just admired but often venerated to a godlike status. They become avatars of our hopes, dreams, and ideals.
But why?
In religion, figures like Jesus, Buddha, or Muhammad aren't just teachers but perfect embodiments of virtue and wisdom. Their followers don't just agree with their teachings; they try to emulate every aspect of their lives.
Leaders like John F. Kennedy and Nelson Mandela and even more controversial figures like Che Guevara have inspired cult-like political devotion. They're not just politicians; they become symbols of hope, change, or revolution.
And in sports? Just mention names like Muhammad Ali, Michael Jordan, Cristiano Ronaldo, and Lionel Messi. These athletes transcend their games to become cultural icons, embodying excellence, determination, and the triumph of human will.
But what's going on here? Why do we elevate these figures to such lofty heights?
Part of it is our deep-seated psychological need for heroes and saviors. We long for figures who seem to have it all figured out. They become our North Stars, guiding us through life.
Consider the phenomenon of Steve Jobs. He wasn't just a successful businessman; he became a guru-like figure for many. People didn't just buy Apple products; they bought into Jobs' vision of a sleek, creative, and innovative future. His black turtleneck became as iconic as a religious garment.
This hero worship reflects our deeper desires and insecurities. When we idolize a political leader who promises to solve all our problems, aren't we expressing our feelings of powerlessness? When we hang on to every word of a spiritual guru, aren't we revealing our fear of confronting ourselves and life's uncertainties?
The cult of personality serves another function, too: it simplifies our world. Instead of grappling with complex ideas or nuanced views, we can ask, "What would they do?" It's a mental shortcut that saves us from the hard work of critical thinking.
But no human is infallible.
Every leader, athlete, or religious guru has flaws, makes mistakes, and sometimes spectacularly fails. When we put all our faith in these figures, we set ourselves up for disappointment - or worse, we refuse to see their failings, clinging to our idealized version of them even in the face of contradictory evidence.
The Escape from Personal Responsibility
Taking responsibility for our lives is hard. It's much easier to hand over the reins to someone else. This is where our tendency to idolize figures becomes a double-edged sword.
When we outsource our problems to a deity, politician, or sports team, we say, "It's not up to me." How often have you heard someone say, "It's in God's hands now," or "If only we elect the right person, everything will be better," or even "This is our year to win it all!"? These statements might seem harmless, even optimistic, but they reveal a subtle abdication of personal responsibility.
This avoidance of responsibility has serious consequences, both personally and societally. On a personal level, it stunts our growth. When we're always looking for saviors, we miss opportunities to develop our strengths and resilience. We become passive observers, waiting for someone else to solve our problems.
Societally, this mindset leads to stagnation. When citizens always look to leaders for solutions, they stop innovating at the grassroots level. When followers unquestioningly accept the words of religious figures, intellectual and moral progress can grind to a halt. And when sports fans tie their emotional well-being to their team's performance, they ride a roller coaster of highs and lows they have no control over.
But here's the thing: life doesn't work that way.
No god, politician, or athlete can live your life for you.
They can't make you healthier, wealthier, or wiser. They can inspire, sure. They can create environments that are more or less conducive to success. But ultimately, the hard work of personal growth and societal progress comes down to individual actions and choices.
I'm not saying faith, political engagement, or sports fandom are bad; far from it. They can provide community, inspiration, and joy. The problem arises when we use them as crutches, as excuses for inaction, and turn them into something they are not.
"It is not the answer that enlightens, but the question." — Eugene Ionesco
Breaking Free from the Cycle
Where do we go from here? How do we break free from this cycle and cultivate a mindset of self-reliance?
Taking personal responsibility isn't about going alone or rejecting all external influences. It's about recognizing that while others can inspire and support us, the ultimate power to change our lives lies within ourselves.
Imagine you're at the helm of a ship. You can't control the wind or the waves, but you can adjust your sails and steer your course. That's personal responsibility in a nutshell.
When you take charge of your life, you gain a sense of autonomy that's both liberating and empowering. You're no longer at the mercy of external forces or waiting for a savior. This change of mindset is profound.
When individuals acknowledge responsibility, communities improve. A neighborhood of proactive, self-reliant people is likely to be more vibrant and resilient than one where everyone's waiting for someone else to solve their problems.
But how do we do this? Here are some practical tips to get you started:
Set personal goals: Instead of waiting for external circumstances to change, decide what you want and plan to achieve it. Start small if you need to, but start.
Practice self-reflection: Regular introspection helps you understand your motivations and behaviors. Try journaling or meditation to develop this habit.
Embrace failure as a teacher: When things go wrong, resist blaming others. Ask yourself, "What can I learn from this? How can I do better next time?"
Develop critical thinking: Don't accept information at face value, even (especially) from those you admire. Question, research, and form your own opinions.
Invest in self-improvement: Read books, take courses, and learn new skills. Your growth is your responsibility.
Practice stoicism: Focus on what you can control and accept what you can't. This ancient philosophy is remarkably relevant.
Seek inspiration, not salvation: It's ok to admire leaders or gurus but see them as fellow humans who've achieved great things, not infallible saviors.
This shift towards personal responsibility can be challenging. It means facing uncomfortable things about ourselves and taking on challenges we might prefer to avoid. But the payoff is immeasurable.
Reclaiming Responsibility
It's time to face a paradox: uncertainty is the only certainty in life.
Our quest for absolutes – whether through religion, politics, or sports – is understandable but limiting. By clinging to the illusion of certainty and placing our faith entirely in external figures, we risk becoming spectators in our lives.
We sacrifice personal growth, critical thinking, and the ability to adapt. We trade the richness of nuanced understanding for the comfort of simplistic answers.
There's immense power in embracing uncertainty. We open ourselves to new possibilities when we accept that life is unpredictable. We become more resilient, curious, and compassionate toward ourselves and others.
Acknowledging personal responsibility doesn't mean having all the answers or never making mistakes. It means being willing to grapple with difficult questions, to learn from failures, and to evolve. It means recognizing that while we can draw inspiration from others, the ultimate responsibility for our lives rests with us.
This shift in mindset – from seeking certainty to embracing personal responsibility – isn't about individual growth. It's about creating a society of engaged, thoughtful citizens who actively shape their communities. The goal is to find a balance—to draw inspiration and support from others while recognizing one's power and responsibility.
The next time you find yourself placing all your hopes in an external figure or institution, ask yourself, "What can I do about this situation? What's my responsibility here?" You might be surprised at how empowering this shift in perspective can be.
So, are you ready to let go of the addiction and cult of idols and certainty? Are you prepared to reclaim your power and responsibility?
The choice, as always, is yours. And that's the beauty of it.
Recommended Readings for Further Exploration
"Thinking, Fast and Slow" by Daniel Kahneman. This book explores the two systems that drive the way we think—the fast, intuitive, and emotional system and the slower, more deliberative, and more logical system. It helps readers understand cognitive biases and how to think more critically.
"The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark" by Carl Sagan argues for critical thinking, skepticism, and the scientific method as tools for understanding the world around us.
"Stumbling on Happiness" by Daniel Gilbert. This book examines how our beliefs about the future impact our decision-making and happiness, challenging our assumptions about certainty and prediction.
"The True Believer: Thoughts on the Nature of Mass Movements" by Eric Hoffer explores the psychological appeal of mass movements and fanaticism, providing insight into why people might abdicate personal responsibility to ideologies.
"The Road to Character" by David Brooks explores character development and personal responsibility, offering a counterpoint to the cult of personality.
"The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion" by Jonathan Haidt. This book delves into the psychological foundations of morality and why people hold different political and religious beliefs.
"Factfulness: Ten Reasons We're Wrong About the World – and Why Things Are Better Than You Think" by Hans Rosling challenges our tendency to dramatize world events and offers tools for thinking more critically about global trends and statistics.