Influence - 030

Hey {First Name},

 

Early Influences

Earlier this month, Golda (who is adamant that she's "two AND A HALF, not just regular two") dropped a toy on the floor. It hit the tile and the loud noise startled us all.

She took a step back and yelled, "JEEEEEE-zus!"

Golda is at an age where she's incredibly impressionable. It's hilarious and adorable, but we also have to be a little careful. Nearly everything she sees and hears, she apes.

This month I'm exploring our influences–what molds who we are and when. For example, in researching, I read that the music we listened to when we were 13-16 years old is the music we remember most fondly. (What bands come to mind?)

While it might be easier to notice it with Golda because her world is so small, we are all a product of our environments– the people, and the culture we engage with. We are influenced every day.

Let's talk about influence.

Join me.

 
 

Influencers?

One of the things I loved about college was the unintentional relationships between classes. I'd be taking art history, Earth science, linguistics, and a writing class in the same semester and somehow they'd all reference Joseph Campbell or The Bauhaus; cognitive dissonance or Murphy's law or whatever else.

That experience has made a lasting impression on what I remember from those classes. But these days, I don't get that feeling of interconnected ideas and depth of learning.  

I mostly blame Twitter.

Or scrolling in general, for that matter.

With the endless feed of thousands of short bits of unrelated content, I might think that my brains, as a pattern-seeking and meaning-making machine, would make these incredible connections and discover hidden insights. But the opposite usually happens.

Social media leaves me oddly undernourished. Sifting through 600 Tweets leaves little or no mark. As if the experiences have not taken root. I'm not making connections at all. I'm glossing over a stream of blurgh, hoping for something, anything, that will make me crack a smile or resemble inspiration.

Shallow content rarely, if ever, makes an impact.

(A big reason why these emails are not 2-minute reads.)

Maybe I just don't buy into the whole "influencers" thing. I believe a social media influencer is like a billboard on a desert highway. It might make me realize that McDonald's is nearby or the local diner is open 24/7. I might be convinced to pull over and order a milkshake in 10 miles. But that influence is fleeting. I've already forgotten the billboard, the message, the exit. It told me one thing that may be relevant for a moment, and then it's left my mind.

So much of our consumption of media has little effect on our lives in the long term. Beyond just models and socialites, even the blogs and articles that aim to influence us mostly just wash innocuously over our brain, forgotten in a shallow pool of ever-generating content.

We want to believe that influence is about making an impression. But lasting impact– like from our best teacher, book, or experience– is the result of strong emotion, surprising intellectual connections, and depth of engagement. Usually over time.

Ok, influencers might have an effect on us.

But influence is not the same as impact.

 
 

Conflicting Influences

A year ago this week, George Floyd was murdered. In the aftermath of his death, I, along with so many others, began a journey to learn more about white supremacy and do our part to become antiracist. And what a privilege it is to learn about racism from a book, article, or conversation, instead of from experience.

As a Jew, I've spent much of my life learning about our history of being persecuted. Since ancient Greece and Rome through the Holocaust where 60% of all European Jews were murdered (the global number of Jews still sits below that peak in 1939). My grandfather fled anti-Semitism in Ukraine to help establish Israel, and my grandmother was 4th generation Jerusalemite. I have experienced anti-Semitism in the states and abroad in various degrees of violence.

I am deeply influenced by my upbringing, experiences, and cultural heritage. And I am also influenced by my more recent awakenings of antiracism. Those two influences in my life are in conflict right now. I don't know how to reconcile them.

In the wake of recent Israeli aggression, the country and our people are facing more widespread public criticism and hatred. It's hard to watch Palestinian solidarity protests of 400k people in London, Detroit, and NYC especially when they get violent because I feel personally threatened. And language matters too. Simply stating "Palestine" instead of "Palestinians" can also imply the erasure of Israel and the Jews.

Some of these marches display strong anti-Semitic rhetoric: equating Zionism with racism, calling Israel Nazis. Even worse, holding a sign saying "death to all Jews" while un-ironically claiming that Israel is committing genocide.

That kind of hyperbole reinforces a lack of understanding, promotes oversimplifying, and fuels Antisemitism.

To be fair, I disapprove of Israel uprooting Palestinian families. I condemn the aggression and the formal annexing of Palestinian land. I think that eliminates any possible negotiation towards a mutually beneficial two-state solution.

But I still love Israel and believe in its right to exist. Peacefully.

I'm finding it incredibly hard to truly understand the other side... and still disagree.

The Jewish people have battled our entire history being an oppressed people. We still feel threatened and hated all over the world. Except now, Israel is being portrayed as the oppressor.

I truly want a Free Palestine– an end to Hamas rule, Israeli imprisonment, and discriminatory policies including expanding settlements.

I want Israel and the Jewish people to thrive.

And I want to believe they can both exist.

I'm just not sure how.

 
 

The River

In 2013, I was working at an ad agency, feeling burned out. After working 90 hour weeks for months at a time, I finally quit. 8 years ago this month actually.

When resigning, I had an hour-long conversation with the founders, feeling confident that my feedback would change their culture and help prevent other people from leaving. In retrospect, I think they were just being nice. Nothing much changed after I left. Sharing this story with a friend recently, he reflected, "we can't change the course of the river once we've stepped out of it."

I've been thinking about that a lot. When I think about the kinds of people and the agency culture I left, many people were happy to be riding the river's flow. Wherever the current went, they would go along, just happy not to drown.

There are parts of our lives that we can control. But sometimes our team, work culture, bosses, and jobs are not in our control. In that case, it's futile to try. The smartest thing to do is just grab an innertube and float downstream.

I wanted to believe I could redirect the river to flow in a new direction. But even building a dam takes time, tools, and a team. Trying to change the course of the river does not happen quickly or easily.

The river inevitably changes course on its own– slowly, sometimes imperceptibly, and always on the edges. Pushing on the weak spots, drying up where there's no support. The pressure and the environment dictate the direction. Movement happens from within.

As individuals, the further we move away from the river, the less we control it.

Our influence starts in the water.

 
 

A Lineage of Influence

I've been thinking a lot lately about why I love being a designer so much. Much of it boils down to influence. Design is not just pushing pixels and making things pretty.

To design is to influence.

Design is influencing how someone thinks about a brand or behaves in a space. Design is creating a desired path and inviting people to walk on it. Design has power in its ability to influence.

And we are all designers.

We are designing our lives– our careers, our families, our friends, who we follow, where we live, and what we read. Including this email.

What's most interesting to me is the lineage of influence that the Email Refrigerator comes from. The articles and books I read. Notes I took. Drafts written. The calls with friends.

And now, all packaged for you. You will pass this on in some form–maybe not forwarding this email per se– the ideas or the questions or feelings that came up while reading this. That's the amazing thing about being connected to other people: being a part of a lineage of influence.

We are all influencers.

We are designing our lives and the worlds around us.

We have more influence than we think.

We only have to choose to speak up to use it.

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{Firstname}, Thanks for reading, as always, and replying with your thoughts. I'm grateful for you continuing to extend the lineage of influence that The Email Refrigerator is a part of.

-Jake

Hey it’s me again. One last thing. In case you don’t want to get these emails anymore, no hard feelings. Just click here to change your settings.

 
Jake Kahana