
Stop. Please don’t answer this question. Millions of people already have. Or they have published a ‘Letter to my younger self’. The Internet now has ample advice for the 1.1 billion youth on earth!
Having reflected on this question for some time, I have some advice of my own for insistent would-be answerers to consider before responding.
But first, let’s recap with some warm-up revision:
At times you’re going to question whether you made the right decision, you’ll feel alone and frustrated at your lack of progress. Don’t worry, it’s going to work out.
Mike McRoberts (TV3 NewsHub Anchor)
Be smart about what it is you want to be when you grow up.
Wendy Williams (host of The Wendy Williams Show)
Keep your options open, keep going and don’t give up. Accept everything that happens to you and then leave those things in the past.
Helena Sonar (2010 NZ Mental Health Media Grant Fellow)
You’re going to over estimate what you could do in a year and you’re going to underestimate what you could do in a decade, or in two, three, or in my case now four [decades]. Allow yourself to think in terms of decades.
Tony Robbins (self-made millionaire and motivational speaker)
I wish I could go back and tell that fella to start running, stop eating crap and stop drinking heaps of piss and just knuckle down, but that’s just what I had to learn.
Aaron Smith (All Black Half-back, 2012 – present)
An interesting and diverse arrangement of advice that gives me both hope and indigestion.
What is the purpose of this question?
It’s useful to consider why this question might be asked. I assume it is asked because there are audiences who are interested in people’s answers. There are likely to be many reasons that the answer is of interest, if not value, to those audiences, including:
- Self-promotion – for the answerer’s own benefit (more than the audience’s)
- Allowing personal reflection – for the answerer’s personal development
- Feeding curiosity – for those following the answerer
- Uncovering lessons and learnings – for those who might benefit from the answer
- Providing encouragement – for those who respect the answerer
- Accelerating others’ development – for those who aspire to succeed in the same way or field as the answerer
Typically, the person asked this question is senior, experienced and successful in their field. I’ve observed that the question is either answered for reason 1 above, or more generously for one or more of the last three reasons. And the target audience contains young people who the question asker feels could do with a leg-up.
But I see flaws in this question
Other than the small issue of time travel not yet being possible, this question has various flaws.
Who had a younger self that would actual listen to any advice an older version of themselves had to offer? As youth, the closest we have to an older version of ourselves is our parents. And let’s face it, when you were young, you probably listened to your parents less than 20% of the time. This is not to say you didn’t respect them and love them, but you can love and respect someone and still not pay a lot of attention to their advice – especially when they enter the “I have some words of wisdom that you must take heed of in order to survive, succeed or avoid catching a cold tonight” zone.
When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.
Anon (although Mark Twain has been credited with saying it)
Moving past these two technicalities, let’s consider how this wisdom is experienced by an audience that wishes to learn from someone they may admire or aspire to be.
Like the audience’s parents, the advice provider is likely to be of an older generation. The lens they use to frame their world and therefore their advice is forged from yesterday’s experiences. The trans-generational gap between advice provider and receiver will result in the advice being experienced as historical, parental, if not irrelevant. This experience may be improved to an extent by the advice-recipient’s degree of admiration or aspiration.
But there’s a deeper flaw in this question that gnaws away at a fundamental privilege (and challenge) that all young people have, and that is the opportunity to create their own future.
Do our younger selves really need a leg-up? Do we really want our youthful enthusiasm, naivety and curiosity to be modified early by advice from someone 10, 20 or 40 years older? After all, what has made these people wise, successful and admired by many are the experiences they had along their way to that wisdom and success. It’s more than likely there was no fast-track, short-cut injection of sage advice that got them there. Their journey got them there.
Are we attempting (and at risk of creating) hot-house growth – that is accelerated growth in unnatural conditions to expedite production of a more perfect person. Sure, tomatoes grown in hot-houses may be easier and lower-cost to produce, and look great. But they will never beat the holistic quality of a home-grown tomato, nurtured in your own back yard. As we grow up, is there a need to rush to a finish line, or should we take the time (and weather the storms) we need to optimise our qualities?
What might be a more beautiful question?
I never expected to be able to use the phrase ‘a more beautiful question’ so soon after finishing a wonderful book with the same title by Warren Berger. But, for me, the question at hand is less useful and certainty less beautiful than it could be.
How about asking youth “What advice would you give your older self?” – a more fascinating question to consider. Have them project 30 years forward, ask them to imagine where they are and what help they may need from their youthful self. Even better, challenge them to record that advice and store it away as an advisory time capsule to be re-discovered by their older self.
Warren Berger quotes MIT’s Joi Ito, who says that “…to be lifelong learners (instead of just early-life learners), we must try to maintain or rekindle the curiosity, sense of wonder, inclination to try new things, and ability to adapt and absorb that served us so well in childhood. We must become, in a word, neotenous (neoteny being a biological term that describes the retention of childlike attributes in adulthood).”
So the advisory time capsule containing youthful advice may just come in very handily, should there be a risk that the older version becomes grown-up, adult-like and, worse still, staid.
Another interesting question for grown-ups is “On what topics do you think your younger self would be interested in taking advice?”. This could stop the line of inquiry in its tracks, as the question asker and answerer consider the possible reality that the answer could fall on deaf (and probably ear-bud-wearing) ears.
Of more value and interest to a broader audience (i.e. society) is surely the answer to “What advice would you give your younger self?” provided by people who have been unfortunate or unsuccessful (in some way, so far) in their own lives. I imagine there would be a lot to learn in answers to this question from the bankrupt, divorced, homeless, and criminals, for example. In fact the neotenous qualities I foster are calling me to action that would have me gathering and sharing such answers – let’s see what time I can find for that fascinating future project!
For now, I’ll tolerate this question for the simple and primary value it represents to the answerer – providing them a chance to reflect on their own journey from youth (at best).
…and what advice would I give my younger self (if forced to!) you might ask?
I’d answer this question as follows:
Simon, if you ever get asked “What advice would you give your younger self?”, reply “None, the path my younger self will make for himself is his path not mine”.
2019 Simon to 1990 Simon

[Does this question grate with you too, or do you enjoy reading people’s answers? Do you like my alternatives? What is your answer?]