George Orwell Predicted Cameras Would Watch Us in Our Homes; He Never Imagined We’d Gladly Buy and Install Them Ourselves

Normalization—the main­stream­ing of peo­ple and ideas pre­vi­ous­ly ban­ished from pub­lic life for good reason—has become the oper­a­tive descrip­tion of a mas­sive soci­etal shift toward some­thing awful. Whether it’s puff pieces on neo-Nazis in major nation­al news­pa­pers or elect­ed lead­ers who are also doc­u­ment­ed sex­u­al preda­tors, a good deal of work goes into mak­ing the pre­vi­ous­ly unthink­able seem mun­dane or appeal­ing.

I try not to imag­ine too often where these things might lead, but one pre­vi­ous­ly unthink­able sce­nario, the open­ly pub­lic mass sur­veil­lance appa­ra­tus of George Orwell’s 1984 has pret­ty much arrived, and has been thor­ough­ly nor­mal­ized and become both mun­dane and appeal­ing. Net­worked cam­eras and micro­phones are installed through­out mil­lions of homes, and mil­lions of us car­ry them with us wher­ev­er we go. The twist is that we are the ones who installed them.

As com­ic Kei­th Low­ell Jensen remarked on Twit­ter a few years ago, “What Orwell failed to pre­dict is that we’d buy the cam­eras our­selves, and that our biggest fear would be that nobody was watch­ing.” By appeal­ing to our basic human need for con­nec­tion, to van­i­ty, the desire for recog­ni­tion, and the seem­ing­ly instinc­tu­al dri­ve for con­ve­nience, tech­nol­o­gy com­pa­nies have per­suad­ed mil­lions of peo­ple to active­ly sur­veille them­selves and each oth­er. They inces­sant­ly gath­er our data, as Tim Wu shows in The Atten­tion Mer­chants, and as a byprod­uct have pro­vid­ed access to our pri­vate spaces to gov­ern­ment agents and who-knows-who-else.

Com­put­ers, smart­phones, and “smart” devices can near­ly all be hacked or com­man­deered. For­mer direc­tor of nation­al intel­li­gence James Clap­per report­ed as much last year, telling the U.S. Sen­ate that intel­li­gence agen­cies might make extend­ed use of con­sumer devices for gov­ern­ment sur­veil­lance. Web­cams and “oth­er inter­net-con­nect­ed cam­eras,” writes Eric Limer at Pop­u­lar Mechan­ics, “such as secu­ri­ty cams and high-tech baby mon­i­tors, are… noto­ri­ous­ly inse­cure.” James Comey and Mark Zucker­berg both cov­er the cam­eras on their com­put­ers with tape.

The prob­lem is far from lim­it­ed to cam­eras. “Any device that can respond to voice com­mands is, by its very nature, lis­ten­ing to you all the time.” Although we are assured that those devices only hear cer­tain trig­ger words “the micro­phone is def­i­nite­ly on regard­less” and “the extent to which this sort of audio is saved or shared is unclear.” (Record­ings on an Ama­zon Echo are pend­ing use as evi­dence in a mur­der tri­al in Arkansas.) Devices like head­phones have even been turned into micro­phones, Limer notes, which means that speak­ers could be as well, and “Lipread­ing soft­ware is only get­ting more and more impres­sive.”

I type these words on a Siri-enabled Mac, an iPad lies near­by and an iPhone in my pock­et… I won’t deny the appeal—or, for  many, the neces­si­ty of con­nec­tiv­i­ty. The always-on vari­ety, with mul­ti­ple devices respon­si­ble for con­trol­ling greater aspects of our lives may not be jus­ti­fi­able. Nonethe­less, 2017 could “final­ly be the year of the smart home.” Sales of the iPhone X may not meet Apple’s expec­ta­tions. But that could have more to do with price or poor reviews than with the creepy new facial recog­ni­tion technology—a fea­ture like­ly to remain part of lat­er designs, and one that makes users much less like­ly to cov­er or oth­er­wise dis­able their cam­eras.

The thing is, we most­ly know this, at least abstract­ly. Bland bul­let­ed how-to guides make the prob­lem seem so ordi­nary that it begins not to seem like a seri­ous prob­lem at all. As an indi­ca­tion of how mun­dane inse­cure net­worked tech­nol­o­gy has become in the con­sumer mar­ket, major pub­li­ca­tions rou­tine­ly run arti­cles offer­ing help­ful tips on how “stop your smart gad­gets from ‘spy­ing’ on you” and “how to keep your smart TV from spy­ing on you.” Your TV may be watch­ing you. Your smart­phone may be watch­ing you. Your refrig­er­a­tor may be watch­ing you. Your ther­mo­stat is most def­i­nite­ly watch­ing you.

Yes, the sit­u­a­tion isn’t strict­ly Orwellian: Oceana’s con­stant­ly sur­veilled cit­i­zens did not com­par­i­son shop, pur­chase, and cus­tomize their own devices vol­un­tar­i­ly. (It’s not strict­ly Fou­cauldian either, but has its close resem­blances.) Yet in prop­er Orwellian dou­ble­s­peak, “spy­ing” might have a very flex­i­ble def­i­n­i­tion depend­ing on who is on the oth­er end. We might stop “spy­ing” by enabling or dis­abling cer­tain fea­tures, but we might not stop “spy­ing,” if you know what I mean.

So who is watch­ing? CIA doc­u­ments released by a cer­tain unsa­vory orga­ni­za­tion show that the Agency might be, as the BBC seg­ment at the top reports. As might any num­ber of oth­er inter­est­ed par­ties from data-hoard­ing cor­po­rate bots to tech-savvy voyeurs look­ing to get off on your can­did moments. We might assume that some­one could have access at any time, even if we use the pri­va­cy con­trols. That so many peo­ple have become depen­dent on their devices, and will increas­ing­ly become so in the future, makes the ques­tion of what to do about it a trick­i­er propo­si­tion.

via Red­dit

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Read the CIA’s Sim­ple Sab­o­tage Field Man­u­al: A Time­less, Kafkaesque Guide to Sub­vert­ing Any Orga­ni­za­tion with “Pur­pose­ful Stu­pid­i­ty” (1944)

The Exis­ten­tial­ism Files: How the FBI Tar­get­ed Camus, and Then Sartre After the JFK Assas­si­na­tion

Lyn­da Bar­ry on How the Smart­phone Is Endan­ger­ing Three Ingre­di­ents of Cre­ativ­i­ty: Lone­li­ness, Uncer­tain­ty & Bore­dom

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Watch “Alike,” a Poignant Short Animated Film About the Enduring Conflict Between Creativity and Conformity

From Barcelona comes “Alike,” a short ani­mat­ed film by Daniel Martínez Lara and Rafa Cano Mén­dez. Made with Blender, an open-source 3D ren­der­ing pro­gram, “Alike” has won a heap of awards and clocked an impres­sive 10 mil­lion views on Youtube and Vimeo. A labor of love made over four years, the film revolves around this ques­tion: “In a busy life, Copi is a father who tries to teach the right way to his son, Paste. But … What is the cor­rect path?” To find the answer, they have to let a dra­ma play out. Which will pre­vail? Cre­ativ­i­ty? Or con­for­mi­ty? It’s an inter­nal con­flict we’re all famil­iar with. 

Watch the film when you’re not in a rush, when you have sev­en unbur­dened min­utes to take it in. “Alike” will be added to our list of Free Ani­ma­tions, a sub­set of our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

via Design Taxi

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Employ­ment: A Prize-Win­ning Ani­ma­tion About Why We’re So Dis­en­chant­ed with Work Today

Bertrand Rus­sell & Buck­min­ster Fuller on Why We Should Work Less, and Live & Learn More

Charles Bukows­ki Rails Against 9‑to‑5 Jobs in a Bru­tal­ly Hon­est Let­ter (1986)

William Faulkn­er Resigns From His Post Office Job With a Spec­tac­u­lar Let­ter (1924)

Nine Tips from Bill Murray & Cellist Jan Vogler on How to Study Intensely and Optimize Your Learning

Pho­to by Gage Skid­more, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

Would you take study tips from Bill Mur­ray? After high school, he did spend some time as a pre-med­ical stu­dent at Reg­is Uni­ver­si­ty in Den­ver — before drop­ping out to return to his home­town of Chica­go and get his start in com­e­dy with the famed improv group Sec­ond City. Still, Reg­is did even­tu­al­ly award him an hon­orary Doc­tor of Human­i­ties a decade ago, and you have to admit that the fame-and-for­tune path worked out for him. In fact, it worked out and then some: see­ing the mas­sive suc­cess of Ghost­busters (and the temp­ta­tions there­of) loom­ing in 1984, Mur­ray decid­ed to make his return to school, this time to study phi­los­o­phy, his­to­ry, and French — and at the Sor­bonne, no less.

The Spo­ti­fy playlist below offers brief selec­tions of spo­ken-word wis­dom relat­ed to study­ing and learn­ing in gen­er­al, part of the fruit of a project by Mur­ray and Ger­man cel­list Jan Vogler. (If you don’t have Spo­ti­fy’s free soft­ware, you can down­load it here.)

They recent­ly made an album togeth­er called New Worlds, where the sounds of Vogler’s clas­si­cal trio accom­pa­ny Mur­ray’s voice, singing and read­ing clas­sic works of Amer­i­can music and lit­er­a­ture from Mark Twain to Van Mor­ri­son. They also record­ed this selec­tion of mem­o­ries, gal­va­niz­ing mes­sages, and “intense study tips” briefly sum­ma­rized as fol­lows: “Don’t cram,” “Con­cen­trate,” “One prob­lem,” “Sleep on it,” “Take a bath,” “Focus on oth­ers,” “More is more,” “Take a break,” and “Build a rou­tine.”

Lis­ten to the playlist and you can hear Mur­ray expand on these sug­ges­tions, some of which will res­onate with mate­r­i­al we’ve pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture: the psy­cho­log­i­cal phe­nom­e­non that has us do our best think­ing in the show­er (or indeed the bath), for instance, or the intel­lec­tu­al foun­da­tions of Mur­ray’s comedic per­sona. If you find his advice use­ful, you might also look to the exam­ple he sets with how he runs his career, famous­ly tak­ing risks on untest­ed ideas or col­lab­o­ra­tors (includ­ing a cer­tain Wes Ander­son) and going to great lengths (up to and includ­ing replac­ing his agent with a voice­mail box) to avoid get­ting caught in the gears of his indus­try. Whether study­ing a sub­ject or becom­ing the most beloved com­ic actor of your gen­er­a­tion, in oth­er words, you’ve got to find a path that works for you and you alone. As one track of Mur­ray and Vogler’s help­ful playlist puts it, “Good luck.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Phi­los­o­phy of Bill Mur­ray: The Intel­lec­tu­al Foun­da­tions of His Comedic Per­sona

Lis­ten to Bill Mur­ray Lead a Guid­ed Medi­a­tion on How It Feels to Be Bill Mur­ray

Richard Feynman’s “Note­book Tech­nique” Will Help You Learn Any Subject–at School, at Work, or in Life

Why You Do Your Best Think­ing In The Show­er: Cre­ativ­i­ty & the “Incu­ba­tion Peri­od”

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

A Touching Animated Documentary About the Rise, Fall & Second Coming of the 60s Psych-Folk Musician Richard Atkins

One won­ders what might have become of Richard Atkins’ musi­cal career had he come of age in this mil­len­ni­um, when young­sters suf­fer­ing from acute stage fright reg­u­lar­ly attract sta­di­um-sized fol­low­ings on Youtube.

This was most def­i­nite­ly not the case in 1968, when Atkins, aged 19, took the stage in a small Hol­ly­wood club filled with music indus­try brass, there specif­i­cal­ly to see him.

Unfor­tu­nate­ly, tal­ent could only take him so far. Hav­ing learned to play gui­tar only a cou­ple of years ear­li­er in the wake of a dis­fig­ur­ing motor­cy­cle acci­dent, he and part­ner Richard Man­ning had record­ed an album, Richard Twice, for Mer­cury Records. The pres­ence on that record of sev­er­al mem­bers of the Wreck­ing Crew, an infor­mal, but leg­endary group of LA ses­sion musi­cians, con­ferred extra pop pedi­gree. The Acid Archives lat­er called it “a vir­tu­al­ly per­fect pop album, the kind of thing that would have ruled the charts if the wind had been blow­ing the right way that month.”

Alas, one tiny tech­ni­cal dif­fi­cul­ty at the start of the gig caused Man­ning to flee, leav­ing the freaked out and fright­en­ing­ly ill equipped Atkins to deal with the yawn­ing chasm that had opened between him and the audi­ence. The only fix that occurred to him was a Bugs Bun­ny-inspired soft shoe, a move that appar­ent­ly went over big with his Mom, pri­or to the acci­dent, when he had two legs and could bal­ance with­out a crutch.

As recount­ed in Matthew Salton’s ani­mat­ed doc­u­men­tary, above, this soul crush­ing moment is not with­out humor. Atkins, affa­bly nar­rat­ing his own sto­ry, has had 50 years to mull that night over, and real­izes that blown oppor­tu­ni­ties are prob­a­bly more uni­ver­sal than suc­cess­ful­ly snagged brass rings (Amer­i­can Idol, any­one?)

Over the ensu­ing years, Atkins found ful­fill­ment as a wood­work­er and fam­i­ly man, but music remained a painful what-if, addressed large­ly through avoid­ance.

Salton’s exu­ber­ant­ly scratchy ani­ma­tion comes as Atkins is tak­ing steps to con­quer his stage fright, per­form­ing out at small cafes, fes­ti­vals, and potluck sup­pers near his Pacif­ic North­west home.

He’s been post­ing old songs, gen­tly remind­ing lis­ten­ers, “before I’m judged too harsh­ly, remem­ber that I was 18 and liv­ing in North Hol­ly­wood, prob­a­bly rag­ing hor­mones and in the music busi­ness to boot!”

He’s also writ­ing and shar­ing new songs, includ­ing the touch­ing “Life Is A Roller­coast­er,” above.

Per­form­ing on Face­book Live in con­junc­tion with Salton’s New York Times Op-Doc essay, he tears up when the inter­view­er informs him that his daugh­ter has just post­ed an encour­ag­ing com­ment, and eager­ly con­firms his avail­abil­i­ty when anoth­er com­menter asks if he’d be up for a gig.

It’s only too late when you’re in the grave.

Trav­el back in time with a cou­ple more psych-folk cuts from Richard Twice, above, or buy the album in dig­i­tal form on Ama­zon.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Eve­lyn Glen­nie (a Musi­cian Who Hap­pens to Be Deaf) Shows How We Can Lis­ten to Music with Our Entire Bod­ies

Syd Barrett’s “Effer­vesc­ing Ele­phant” Comes to Life in a New Retro-Style Ani­ma­tion

A His­to­ry of Alter­na­tive Music Bril­liant­ly Mapped Out on a Tran­sis­tor Radio Cir­cuit Dia­gram: 300 Punk, Alt & Indie Artists

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Meet the 35-Year-Old British Man Who Lives Entirely in the Year 1946

Ben San­sum is some­thing of a young fogey. He’s only 35 years old, but he lives in the year 1946. Entire­ly. The pic­tures on his wall in his Cam­bridgeshire home, the sup­plies in his cup­board, the music played on his turntable, the clothes he wears–everything comes from 1946 and the post WWII era. His moti­va­tion is part­ly aes­thet­ic. He likes liv­ing in a peri­od home, he tells us. But it also goes deep­er than that. As he notes, our mod­ern world moves so quick­ly, it some­times pays to hang onto old world charms.

via Coudal

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

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Mona Lisa Selfie: A Montage of Social Media Photos Taken at the Louvre and Put on Instagram

“Over 6 mil­lion peo­ple vis­it the Mona Lisa at the Lou­vre each year. Many share their vis­it on social media.” Cre­at­ed by Daniel McK­ee, this dizzy­ing video gath­ers togeth­er hun­dreds of the pho­tos that get tak­en at the muse­um and then wind up on Insta­gram. Only a minute long, it’s a nice suc­cinct com­men­tary on our time…

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Leonar­do da Vinci’s Vision­ary Note­books Now Online: Browse 570 Dig­i­tized Pages

Leonar­do Da Vinci’s To Do List (Cir­ca 1490) Is Much Cool­er Than Yours

Take a Trip Through the His­to­ry of Mod­ern Art with the Oscar-Win­ning Ani­ma­tion Mona Lisa Descend­ing a Stair­case

Did Leonar­do da Vin­ci Paint a First Mona Lisa Before The Mona Lisa?

Orig­i­nal Por­trait of the Mona Lisa Found Beneath the Paint Lay­ers of da Vinci’s Mas­ter­piece

Interactive Map Lets You Take a Literary Journey Through the Historic Monuments of Rome

Arch­es on arch­es! as it were that Rome,

Col­lect­ing the chief tro­phies of her line,

Would build up all her tri­umphs in one dome,

Her Col­i­se­um stands; the moon­beams shine

As ’twere its nat­ur­al torch­es, for divine

Should be the light which streams here, to illume

This long-explored but still exhaust­less mine

Of con­tem­pla­tion; and the azure gloom

Of an Ital­ian night, where the deep skies assume

Hues which have words, and speak to ye of heav­en,

Floats o’er this vast and won­drous mon­u­ment,

And shad­ows forth its glo­ry.

—Lord Byron, Childe Harold’s Pil­grim­age (1818)

A mod­ern vis­i­tor to Rome, drawn to the Col­i­se­um on a moon­lit night, is unlike­ly to be so bewitched, sand­wiched between his or her fel­low tourists and an army of ven­dors aggres­sive­ly ped­dling light-up whirligigs, knock off design­er scarves, and acrylic columns etched with the Eter­nal City’s must-see attrac­tions.

These days, your best bet for tour­ing Rome’s best known land­marks in peace may be an inter­ac­tive map, com­pli­ments of the Mor­gan Library and Muse­um. Based on Paul-Marie Letarouil­ly’s pic­turesque 1841 city plan, each dig­i­tal pin can be expand­ed to reveal descrip­tions by nine­teenth-cen­tu­ry authors and side-by-side, then-and-now com­par­isons of the fea­tured mon­u­ments.

The endur­ing pop­u­lar­i­ty of the film Three Coins in the Foun­tain, cou­pled with the inven­tion of the self­ie stick has turned the area around the Tre­vi Foun­tain into a pickpocket’s dream and a claustrophobe’s worst night­mare.

Not so in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s day, though unlike Lord Byron, he cul­ti­vat­ed a cool remove, at least at first:

They and the rest of the par­ty descend­ed some steps to the water’s brim, and, after a sip or two, stood gaz­ing at the absurd design of the foun­tain, where some sculp­tor of Bernini’s school had gone absolute­ly mad in mar­ble. It was a great palace-front, with nich­es and many bas-reliefs, out of which looked Agrippa’s leg­endary vir­gin, and sev­er­al of the alle­goric sis­ter­hood; while, at the base, appeared Nep­tune, with his floun­der­ing steeds and Tri­tons blow­ing their horns about him, and twen­ty oth­er arti­fi­cial fan­tasies, which the calm moon­light soothed into bet­ter taste than was native to them. And, after all, it was as mag­nif­i­cent a piece of work as ever human skill con­trived. At the foot of the pala­tial façade was strown, with care­ful art and ordered irreg­u­lar­i­ty, a broad and bro­ken heap of mas­sive rock, look­ing as if it might have lain there since the del­uge. Over a cen­tral precipice fell the water, in a semi­cir­cu­lar cas­cade; and from a hun­dred crevices, on all sides, snowy jets gushed up, and streams spout­ed out of the mouths and nos­trils of stone mon­sters, and fell in glis­ten­ing drops; while oth­er rivulets, that had run wild, came leap­ing from one rude step to anoth­er, over stones that were mossy, slimy, and green with sedge, because in a cen­tu­ry of their wild play, Nature had adopt­ed the Foun­tain of Tre­vi, with all its elab­o­rate devices, for her own.

The human stat­ues garbed as glad­i­a­tors and char­i­o­teers spend hours in the blaz­ing sun at the foot of the Span­ish Stepsthe heirs to the artists and mod­els who pop­u­lat­ed William Wet­more Sto­ry’s Roba di Roma:

All day long, these steps are flood­ed with sun­shine in which, stretched at length, or gath­ered in pic­turesque groups, mod­els of every age and both sex­es bask away the hours when they are free from employ­ment in the stu­dios. … Some­times a group of artists, pass­ing by, will pause and steadi­ly exam­ine one of these mod­els, turn him about, pose him, point out his defects and excel­lences, give him a baioc­co, and pass on. It is, in fact, a mod­els’ exchange.

The Medici Vil­la hous­es the Académie de France, and its gar­dens remain a pleas­ant respite, even in 2017. Vis­i­tors who aren’t whol­ly con­sumed with find­ing a wifi sig­nal may find them­selves fan­ta­siz­ing about a dif­fer­ent life, much as Hen­ry James did in his Ital­ian Hours:

Such a dim light as of a fabled, haunt­ed place, such a soft suf­fu­sion of ten­der grey-green tones, such a com­pa­ny of gnarled and twist­ed lit­tle minia­ture trunks—dwarfs play­ing with each oth­er at being giants—and such a show­er of gold­en sparkles drift­ing in from the vivid West! … I should name for my own first wish that one didn’t have to be a French­man to come and live and dream and work at the Académie de France. Can there be for a while a hap­pi­er des­tiny than that of a young artist con­scious of tal­ent and of no errand but to edu­cate, pol­ish and per­fect it, trans­plant­ed to these sacred shades?…What morn­ings and after­noons one might spend there, brush in hand, unpre­oc­cu­pied, untor­ment­ed, pen­sioned, satisfied—either per­suad­ing one’s self that one would be “doing some­thing” in con­se­quence or not car­ing if one shouldn’t be.

The inter­ac­tive map was cre­at­ed to accom­pa­ny the Morgan’s 2016 exhi­bi­tion City of the Soul: Rome and the Roman­tics. Oth­er pit­stops include St. Peter’s, the Roman Forum, and The Eques­tri­an Mon­u­ment of Mar­cus Aure­lius on the Capi­tol. Begin your explo­rations here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

New Dig­i­tal Archive Puts Online 4,000 His­toric Images of Rome: The Eter­nal City from the 16th to 20th Cen­turies

Ancient Rome’s Sys­tem of Roads Visu­al­ized in the Style of Mod­ern Sub­way Maps

Rome Reborn: Take a Vir­tu­al Tour of Ancient Rome, Cir­ca 320 C.E.

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Bryan Cranston Gives Advice to the Young: Find Yourself by Traveling and Getting Lost

I don’t know what time you’re read­ing this post but “What do you real­ly want to do in life?” is a ques­tion that can wake you up right fast, or make you want to pack it in and sleep on it.

It’s also a ques­tion asked maybe a bit too ear­ly of our young peo­ple, which starts with fan­ta­sy (“What do you want to be when you grow up?” “A space­man!”) and by our teens it turns into a more seri­ous, fate-decid­ing inquiry by peo­ple who may not be hap­py with their sta­tion in life.

Actor Bryan Cranston takes on this ques­tion in this Big Think video, and extolls the virtues of trav­el and wan­der­ing.

“Trav­el­ing forces you to be social,” Cranston says. “You have to get directions.You have to learn where things are. You’re attuned to your envi­ron­ment.”

Cranston thought he was going to be a police­man when he entered col­lege. Then he took an act­ing class. So, at 19, Cranston explored Amer­i­ca for two years by motor­cy­cle with his broth­er, in essence to find them­selves by get­ting lost. He says he’s passed on this direc­tion­less wan­der­ing to his now 24 year-old daugh­ter.

That idea of let­ting go and just wan­der­ing also dove­tails nice­ly into his oth­er advice about audi­tions. You don’t go there to get a job, you go to cre­ate a char­ac­ter and present it. The rest is out of your con­trol.

Now, Cranston says that the peri­od between high school/college and the “real world” is the best time to do it, but there’s real­ly no time like right now. To quote Niger­ian author Chi­ma­man­da Ngozi Adichie, “I think you trav­el to search and you come back home to find your­self there,” and the boats are always leav­ing. Just jump on.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

21 Artists Give “Advice to the Young:” Vital Lessons from Lau­rie Ander­son, David Byrne, Umber­to Eco, Pat­ti Smith & More

Ray Brad­bury Gives 12 Pieces of Writ­ing Advice to Young Authors (2001)

John Cleese’s Advice to Young Artists: “Steal Any­thing You Think Is Real­ly Good”

Walt Whit­man Gives Advice to Aspir­ing Young Writ­ers: “Don’t Write Poet­ry” & Oth­er Prac­ti­cal Tips (1888)

Ursu­la Le Guin Gives Insight­ful Writ­ing Advice in Her Free Online Work­shop

Aki­ra Kurosawa’s Advice to Aspir­ing Film­mak­ers: Write, Write, Write and Read

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the artist inter­view-based FunkZone Pod­cast and is the pro­duc­er of KCR­W’s Curi­ous Coast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, read his oth­er arts writ­ing at tedmills.com and/or watch his films here.

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