There’s a scene in Succession that I love. Okay, maybe that doesn’t narrow it down enough because almost every scene in that show is a work of art - but there’s one in particular I find myself thinking about a lot. In a private room of a karaoke bar that probably sells drinks that would bankrupt me, Logan Roy faces yet another insurrection from his children. Ostensibly, they’re threatening a deal because they think it’s not good enough, but the real motivator is the sense they’re being screwed out of their birth right, and their resentment towards their dad.
Logan tries to meets them halfway and gives some lame apology, but can see before long that they’ve dug their heels in. They won’t be swayed. They’ve let their emotions cloud their business sense (if there was any to begin with), and he won’t be getting their votes. Now he’s given up hope of winning them over, he speaks freely.
“Jesus… you’re such fucking dopes. You are not serious figures. I love you, but you are not serious people”.
Now, I should start by saying that Logan Roy is not a role model. After all, the reason his kids resent him so much is the abuse and neglect they endured in their youth. Still, he’s also not wrong. That generation of the Roy family are patently unserious, and that’s basically what the entire show is about.
I’ll admit though, when I first watched it it took me a second to know exactly what he meant by “serious”. I first took it to mean “not-jokey”, and was left a little confused. It’s not exactly like the kids were doing their tight five during the tense negotiation, But, of course, he meant it in another sense. He meant they’re people that allow their emotions to influence their decision making, even if it’s to their own detriment. He meant they’ll bite off their nose to spite their face. He meant they’re incapable of doing anything other than exactly what they want right now, this second. In other words, they are not grown ups. They’re just children that got older.
I think the concept of a serious or unserious person has lingered in my mind because I’m at the perfect age to notice it. I’m 29 now, so I exist in this weird purgatory where some people my age are married with kids, and others are in the same position they were in when we left school 11 years ago. At 22, the discrepancy between the people that consistently work hard, and those that don’t is pretty small. Not enough time has passed for the rewards of good decision making to pay off. Now at 29, the returns are compounding, and you can see that some are changing gears, and leaving the rest of the pack behind. These people, are serious people.
I have a close friend that had a very similar start to adult life to me. We both had the same friends, similar grades, and similar personalities. We lived in the same unremarkable town, went to the same unremarkable school, and did the same unremarkable teenage things together. If you looked at us at 18, you’d probably have guessed that we’d be in a very similar position at 30. However, you’d be totally wrong. Sure, I’m doing pretty good. I like my life. I have good relationships, I’m a senior at work, and think I show a lot of potential. He, however, operates on a different level. He’s married, has a kid on the way, and moved to the US to run a new office for a business that he was only the 3rd employee of. He probably makes more money in a year than I make in three. In other words, he lives the life that I could have in 5 years if I continue to keep my head down.
If we started from essentially the same place, why has he squeezed so much more success in the same amount of time? Easy. He was always a serious person, and I only became one when I was like 25. He’s always done the small things that add up. He shows up on time. He fulfills his commitments even if he doesn’t feel like it. He doesn’t waste his time getting involved in petty squabbles. He says what he means, and solves his problems instead of wallowing in them. He’s dependable, and knows that if he wants something, he has to go out and get it instead of waiting for the world to give it to him. He keeps a cool head in times of stress and makes prudent decisions. He’s not humourless (far from it), but he takes his life seriously - and you can tell that he does by just being around him for 5 minutes.
However, just as you can tell someone is a serious person quickly, I think you can also tell when someone is the opposite. Just recently, a guy I’ve only known for three months asked to borrow money. Literally the day after he paid me back, he asked for more. What? Why did you pay me back if you knew you were going to have no money immediately? What was the plan here? It’s as if he thought “I’ll give my last 20 quid to Connor today - oh shit, now I have nothing. Better ask Connor again!”. It’s the sort of thing that makes you roll your eyes and think “C’mon man, we’re not 16 anymore. Get your shit together”. He’s like the ghost of Christmas future if I never put the beer bottle down. I know that if he became a serious person, he could have a totally different life within a year, but he fails to see the role he plays in his situation. His circumstances are entirely the result of the external factors around him. He believes he’s powerless, and as a result, actually is.
This is the potentially worrying thing about serious and unserious people - everyone can tell which one you are. If you show up late to a meeting and laugh it off because you had a late one the night before, people may laugh with you, but they’ll know that you’re an unserious person. If you say you’ll do something, and let the deadline go by hoping that no one will notice, they will. They’ll identify you as unreliable, and politely go on, quietly deciding not to give you another opportunity. Likewise, if you show up to your life with a sense of urgency and purpose, people pick up on that. They are drawn to, and respect competence.
So I think the benefits of being a serious person are immensely valuable. In fact, I’d go as far as saying I’d rather be a serious person that was made redundant, than an unserious person that won the lottery. In ten years, I’d still bet on the serious person having a better life, because they have the means to create something good from any situation. The unserious person doesn’t create value, they just use it up, and complain when it runs out.
I regret not taking my life seriously sooner. I think back on all the adults that told me, regret in their eyes, that they wished they’d tried harder in school, and realise now that I’ve taken their place. I also want to shake teenagers and yell “Don’t your realise!? If you start putting effort in now, you’ll be king of the universe!” despite the fact that it’d almost certainly fall on deaf ears. It seems that learning to be a serious person is a class we have to take the hard way. It might be the most important thing we learn though, because if your life isn’t worth taking seriously, what is?
1. Succession is fantastic, in part because it is so damn funny.
2. I'm curious if "He probably makes more money in a year than I make in three." is happier than you. And if he'll be happier in 10, 20, 30 years. Being serious never made me happy. The pure luck of meeting my soulmate made me happy - I did absolutely zero to "earn" that.
Just my perspective - not a universal truth.
Hmm, initially I agreed here, but on reflection I think you're mixing a skill issue (agency, conscientiousness) with a value issue. Both play a role. Yes, agency is partly about mindset and some people just aren't serious. But it's also a skill, or set of skills.. Cate Hall writes about this really well.
Also, if you measure success by income you're in for a bad time. You'll be hill-climbing and get stuck in a local maximum of "high pay, many working hours, and maybe not adding societal value at all". Aim for positive impact, moral ambition, effective altruism or whatever you want to call it, not status and income. They won't make you happy.