A few days ago when I was browsing in the library, I heard a guy talking while doing some kind of presentation on his laptop. Since I was deep in the back stacks and he was at a table in the corner, I assumed it was one of the few places he found that was quiet enough with good WiFi.
As I was searching for books, I overheard him talking about “positioning yourself for success” and taking just 3 of his 10 suggestions for self-improvement to achieve your goals. It was all standard stuff that’s been regurgitated since “Think and Grow Rich” was published in 1927. The advice has become so ubiquitous, it sounds like ChatGPT wrote it.
I’m guessing this guy was recording a video for his website, TikTok or a podcast.
It got me thinking about the listicles, the self-help books and the generic advice we are inundated with. The Internet has made it possible for anyone to regurgitate this pap with next to no effort. Before the internet, magazines served the same purpose.
Back in the 70s, 80s, and 90s, I remember reading advice in my mom’s Cosmopolitan, in Men’s Health, in Forbes, in Wired, and in countless other magazines. The content, although viably more appealing, was pretty much the same old stuff. It might have been new to me at the time, but it wasn’t new. Nor was it the least bit insightful. Nor helpful.
If the Life Coach had asked for my advice on presenting and creating interesting, valuable content I would have recommended that he gain some life experience first.
Then, he could come back to being a life coach, when he had learned some life lessons and could impart what he had learned that might make him stand out above the noise.
But, he didn’t ask me.