Well, you see, here’s the thing. Chinese proverbs—let’s talk about that for a second. You hear people saying, “Oh, the wisdom of the East! Look at the deep knowledge embedded in these simple phrases.” But, really, we have to ask ourselves, “How valid is that?” Is this just some collectivist artifact? Because, and I mean this seriously, the Chinese culture, at least historically, has been dominated by this top-down hierarchical thinking. It’s all about fitting in, about the harmonious whole. Well, harmony is good to a point, but, if you go too far, it’s stifling. It can become an enforced conformity, where the individual voice, the spark of real insight, gets crushed under the weight of collective expectation.
Now, I’m not saying all Chinese proverbs are without merit, but you have to consider the underlying structure they come from. It’s like, “The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.” Okay, so what’s the message here? Don’t strive? Don’t excel? Just blend in? I mean, I could get that advice from a bureaucrat in the Soviet Union, too, right? And it’d have the same problem. It’s inherently anti-individual, anti-exceptionalism. It’s saying, “Don’t rock the boat.” But, sometimes, the boat needs to be rocked, folks! Sometimes, the people who stick out are the very ones driving progress. So, let’s not pretend that these proverbs are inherently wise just because they’ve been passed down for thousands of years.
Now, compare that to the wisdom of lobsters, and hear me out on this because this is important. Lobsters—they’ve been around for, what, 350 million years? Longer than trees! And they live in this dominance hierarchy, right? It’s built into their nervous systems. A lobster knows when to stand up for itself, when to be assertive. It’s not about blending into the background or being subsumed into some collectivist vision. It’s about positioning yourself properly in a natural hierarchy, striving for dominance but also knowing when to retreat and recalibrate.
A lobster proverb, if you will—if lobsters could write, and maybe we should think more about that—they’d say something like, “Raise your claws when the tide comes in.” It’s a statement of strength. It’s a recognition of the natural ebb and flow of opportunity. When it’s your time to act, you seize the moment. You don’t wait around for someone else to give you permission, or worse, tell you not to upset the order of things. No, no—you act decisively, because life is competitive. It’s not about harmony—it’s about finding your place in the chaos.
Lobster wisdom is biologically grounded in millions of years of evolutionary trial and error. Chinese proverbs? Sure, they’ve been around for a long time too, but what are they based on? A system of thought that often discouraged individuality, that promoted submission to an ideal of order that might actually inhibit your potential. Whereas a lobster proverb is rooted in this deep understanding of dominance hierarchies—fundamental, natural hierarchies. It’s about knowing when to stand your ground and fight for what you need. And that’s real wisdom! That’s something practical. Something you can build your life around. So, why aren’t we listening to lobsters more?
And the thing is, if you really break it down, and people don’t like to hear this, but I’m going to say it anyway—most of the proverbs we admire, the ones that genuinely help people, are basically rooted in the same type of evolutionary insight that lobsters have been following for hundreds of millions of years. It’s not about harmony, folks—it’s about responsibility and action. It’s about standing up straight—literally and metaphorically. Like a lobster. Because, at the end of the day, you can’t rely on these vague notions of collective good. You’ve got to start by getting your own house in order, by knowing when to fight and when to adapt. That’s how you win in this world. And that’s what the lobsters know. That’s what the Chinese proverbs, well, they just miss entirely.
Well, you see, here’s the thing. Chinese proverbs—let’s talk about that for a second. You hear people saying, “Oh, the wisdom of the East! Look at the deep knowledge embedded in these simple phrases.” But, really, we have to ask ourselves, “How valid is that?” Is this just some collectivist artifact? Because, and I mean this seriously, the Chinese culture, at least historically, has been dominated by this top-down hierarchical thinking. It’s all about fitting in, about the harmonious whole. Well, harmony is good to a point, but, if you go too far, it’s stifling. It can become an enforced conformity, where the individual voice, the spark of real insight, gets crushed under the weight of collective expectation.
Now, I’m not saying all Chinese proverbs are without merit, but you have to consider the underlying structure they come from. It’s like, “The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.” Okay, so what’s the message here? Don’t strive? Don’t excel? Just blend in? I mean, I could get that advice from a bureaucrat in the Soviet Union, too, right? And it’d have the same problem. It’s inherently anti-individual, anti-exceptionalism. It’s saying, “Don’t rock the boat.” But, sometimes, the boat needs to be rocked, folks! Sometimes, the people who stick out are the very ones driving progress. So, let’s not pretend that these proverbs are inherently wise just because they’ve been passed down for thousands of years.
Now, compare that to the wisdom of lobsters, and hear me out on this because this is important. Lobsters—they’ve been around for, what, 350 million years? Longer than trees! And they live in this dominance hierarchy, right? It’s built into their nervous systems. A lobster knows when to stand up for itself, when to be assertive. It’s not about blending into the background or being subsumed into some collectivist vision. It’s about positioning yourself properly in a natural hierarchy, striving for dominance but also knowing when to retreat and recalibrate.
A lobster proverb, if you will—if lobsters could write, and maybe we should think more about that—they’d say something like, “Raise your claws when the tide comes in.” It’s a statement of strength. It’s a recognition of the natural ebb and flow of opportunity. When it’s your time to act, you seize the moment. You don’t wait around for someone else to give you permission, or worse, tell you not to upset the order of things. No, no—you act decisively, because life is competitive. It’s not about harmony—it’s about finding your place in the chaos.
Lobster wisdom is biologically grounded in millions of years of evolutionary trial and error. Chinese proverbs? Sure, they’ve been around for a long time too, but what are they based on? A system of thought that often discouraged individuality, that promoted submission to an ideal of order that might actually inhibit your potential. Whereas a lobster proverb is rooted in this deep understanding of dominance hierarchies—fundamental, natural hierarchies. It’s about knowing when to stand your ground and fight for what you need. And that’s real wisdom! That’s something practical. Something you can build your life around. So, why aren’t we listening to lobsters more?
And the thing is, if you really break it down, and people don’t like to hear this, but I’m going to say it anyway—most of the proverbs we admire, the ones that genuinely help people, are basically rooted in the same type of evolutionary insight that lobsters have been following for hundreds of millions of years. It’s not about harmony, folks—it’s about responsibility and action. It’s about standing up straight—literally and metaphorically. Like a lobster. Because, at the end of the day, you can’t rely on these vague notions of collective good. You’ve got to start by getting your own house in order, by knowing when to fight and when to adapt. That’s how you win in this world. And that’s what the lobsters know. That’s what the Chinese proverbs, well, they just miss entirely.