The Second Mountain: The Quest for a Moral Life

Once I started reading the book, I had a hard time putting it down. The book was of great importance in understanding the phases of life, giving me a clear direction toward the second mountain. I decided to share a summary of the book to help you draw a more accurate opinion of the content. Let me break the review down in 2 parts. First, I’ll share why I chose to read the book and some personal thoughts about the reading. Next, I hope to put together a brief summary from each chapter, including short excerpts highlighted while taking notes. PERSONAL THOUGHTS We know that following a natural eating plan, having restful nights of sleep, moving our physical bodies frequently, and even engaging on spiritual practices are all good ways to preserve our health. In addition to these aspects, a committed life to our vocation, family, and community is equally important to our overall wellbeing. I pre-ordered the book because I wanted to explore these commitments in greater detail so I can better contribute to our society. Some of my favorite takeaways were: [1] an individualistic mindset can offer a series of experiences but they won’t fulfill us because these experiences aren’t serving a large cause; [2] the uncommitted person is the unremembered person; [3] when we reach out and build community, we nourish ourselves; [4] the completeness of a couple who have been together for years defines a happy marriage; [5] being alone in the wilderness brings an array of possibilities; and [6] the second mountain is a more generous and satisfying phase of life. Having said that, I decided to read it one more time before implementing some of the learnings. SUMMARY [Introduction] Right in the beginning we learn how to differentiate the mountains we are meant to climb in life. David starts off by saying that “if the first mountain is about building up the ego and defining the self, the second mountain is about shedding the ego and losing the self. If the first mountain is about acquisition, the second mountain is about contribution. If the first mountain is elitist—moving up—the second mountain is egalitarian—planting yourself amid those who need, and walking arm in arm with them.” He decided to study commitment on a continual effort to write his own way to a better life after having failed at significant commitments during his life. At the end of the introduction we explore the meaning of joy, the layers of joy, and the highest form of joy, which he calls the moral joy. [Part I : The Two Mountains] [Chapter 1] Our old moral ecology had a lot of virtues—emphasized by humility and reticence. However, as David explains, it had also failings, such as tolerance for racism and barriers against professional women, which ultimately made it intolerable. In the early 60s a more individualistic culture emerged, breaking through many of the chains that held down women and oppressed minorities. Despite that, “when individualism becomes the absolutely dominant ethos of a civilization—when it isn’t counterbalanced with any competing ethos—then the individuals within it may have maximum freedom, but the links between the individuals slowly begin to dissolve.” [Chapter 2] Here we take a look at the ambiguity of freedom. The main message is that political freedom is great, but personal, social, and emotional freedom can be detrimental when they become the end goal. David says, “freedom is a river you want to get across so you can plant yourself on the other side—and fully commit to something.” [Chapter 3] Now we shift gears toward workaholism, which can be surprisingly easy to become emotionally avoidant and morally decoupled, to gradually tamp down the highs and lows and simply live in neutral. The insecure overachiever, David writes, “never fully wills anything and thus is never fully satisfied.” Although his status is rising, the heart and the soul of an insecure overachiever are never fully engaged. [Chapter 4] Using Leo Tolstoy as an example, who at some point felt sick of life and saw no point in it, David affirms that “wealth and fame and accomplishment don’t spare anybody from the valley.” Although there are people who go through life without ever stumbling into the valley, most of us have had to endure some season of suffering when we had to ask ourselves the fundamental questions. Suffering, according to David, comes in many forms—some may feel a gradual loss of enthusiasm in what they are doing, whereas others experience a dramatic crisis. Hyper-individualism, he continues, “has led to a society where people live further and further apart from one another—socially, emotionally, and even physically.” And that has produced 4 interrelated social crises. One by one, each crisis is explained in detail: [1] the loneliness crisis; [2] distrust; [3] the crisis of meaning; and [4] tribalism. [Chapter 5] The right thing to do when we are in moments of suffering is to stand erect in the suffering. It is about understanding that our suffering is a task that, if handled correctly, will lead to enlargement, not diminishment. When we listen to our lives, according to David, we shed the old self so the new self can emerge. Going out alone into the wilderness is one of the smartest bet to change our experience of time because it teaches us “the ability to rest in the uncertainty, to not jump to premature conclusions.” [Chapter 6] This chapter is about discovering the role of our heart and soul. Although we are taught by our culture that we are primarily thinking beings, when we are in the valley our view of what is important is transformed. As David puts, “we begin to realize that the reasoning brain is actually the third most important part of the consciousness.” The first and most important part is the desiring heart, and the second is the soul. We learn that our emotions aren’t the opposite of reason; they are the fountain of reason and often contain a wisdom the analytic brain can’t reach. In the valley, we “learn we aren’t just a brain and a set of talents to impress the world, but a heart and soul.” [Chapter 7] Whereas earlier we explored the first mountain and the valley, now we focus on how a committed life will take us to the second mountain climb. David explains that commitments begin with some movement of the heart and soul, we “fall in love with a person or a cause or an idea, and if that love is deep enough, we decide to dedicate a significant chunk of our lives to it.” He adds that a commitment is making a promise to something without expecting a return. There may be a positive return from a commitment, but that isn’t why we make it. [Chapter 8] Although there are many kinds of second-mountain people, they tend to share a lot of common values. David explains in detail that people living the second mountain: [1] have had a motivational shift in their lives; [2] have a desire to live in intimate relation with others to make a difference in the world; [3] are driven by a desire for belonging and generosity; [4] are attached to a particular place to devote themselves; [5] assume responsibility; [6] devote to radical hospitality; and [7] are extremely relational. [Part II : Vocation] [Chapter 9] In the vocation mentality, David explains, “you aren’t living on the ego level of your consciousness—working because the job pays well or makes life convenient. You are down in the substrate.” It is interesting to note that vocations have testing periods—periods when the costs outweigh the benefits—which we must go through to reach another level of intensity. At these moments, if we were driven by a career mentality we would quit. However, “a person who has found a vocation doesn’t feel she has a choice. It would be a violation of her own nature. So she pushes through when it doesn’t seem to make sense.” [Chapter 10] Through a genuine example of how E. O. Wilson found nature at age 7 to become one of the most prominent naturalists, David explains that the annunciation moment happens when “something sparks an interest, or casts a spell, and arouses a desire that somehow prefigures much of what comes after in a life, both the delights and the challenges.” Although childhood annunciation moments are common, they also happen often in adulthood. The tricky part of an annunciation moment is not having it, but realizing we are having it. He says, “the best thing about an annunciation moment is that it gives you an early hint of where your purpose lies.” [Chapter 11] This chapter focuses on the value of having good mentors. Good mentors, according to David, teach us the tactic wisdom embedded in any craft, how to deal with error, how to embrace the struggle , send us into the world and, in some sense, cut us off. [Chapter 12] Here we take a close look at making transformational choices—the big commitments in life. All decisions involve a large measure of uncertainty about the future, but “what makes transformational choices especially tough is that you don’t know what your transformed self will be like or will want, after the vagaries of life begin to have their effects.” David explains that since every choice is a renunciation, or an infinity of renunciations, some of us are so paralyzed by big choices that we skip them. Through examples and advices, he shares ways to counterbalance these fears in order to make meaningful vocation decisions. [Chapter 13] David starts by drawing a useful distinction, “a job is a way of making a living, but work is a particular way of being needed, of fulfilling the responsibility that life has placed before you.” All vocational work, no matter how deeply it touches us, involves those moments when are confronted by the laborious task. All real work, he adds, “requires a dedication to engage in deliberate practice, the willingness to do the boring things over and over again, just to master a skill.” He says that if we know what we want to do, just start doing it, “don’t delay because you think this job or that degree would be good preparation for doing what you eventually want to do.” [Part III : Marriage] [Chapter 14] Who we marry is one of the most important decisions we will ever make. David says that “passion peaks among the young, but marriage is the thing that peaks in old age.” One of the problems of the individualistic view, he points, is that “if you go into marriage seeking self-actualization, you will always feel frustrated because marriage, and specially parenting, will constantly be dragging you away from the goals of self.” Another problem is that the heart yearns to fuse with others, and it can only happen by transcending the self in order to serve the marriage. Although we see a general effort to scale marriage back and shrink it down to manageable size, David by no means forgets to discuss that “marriage works best when it is maximal.” [Chapter 15] Here we explore the first stages of intimacy. David explains that it all starts with a single glance, which sparks the desire to know the other person, encouraging us to engage in a dialogue. He ends the chapter by affirming that “when you choose to marry someone, you better choose someone you will enjoy talking with for the rest of your life.” [Chapter 16] Now we advance toward the next stages of intimacy. David describes it as the combustion of the relationship, “we are at the sunniest and most carefree stage of intimacy, the bright springtime when delight is at its peak without any of the urgent stakes that will come later.” It is the phase of peak idealization. At some point of the journey toward intimacy, we will eventually have a relationship-defining talk. This new layer of intimacy—that comes with responsibilities—is about unselfish actions. Forgiveness is key at any crisis that will occur after being around long enough to reveal our natural selves. [Chapter 17] This chapter is dedicated to the marriage decision. David acknowledges that before making such a decision, we should step back and make an appraisal. He makes it clear that “everybody spends too much time appraising the other person when making marriage decisions, but the person who can really screw things up is you.” Based on that assumption, he shares questions for personal reflection. Once these questions are answered, he discusses the 3 lenses we may apply when making the rest of the marriage decision: [1] the psychological lens; [2] the emotional lens; and [3] the moral lens. [Chapter 18] As a part of the marriage, David explains, “the only way to thrive is to become a better person—more patient, wise, compassionate, persevering, communicative, and humble.” Based on a wealth of knowledge supported by figures such as John Gottman, Gary Chapman, Alain de Botton, and Ayala Malach Pines, David explores a series of aspects to help us navigate through the ups and downs of our love relationships. [Part IV : Philosophy And Faith] [Chapter 19] David shares that his intellectual commitment was shaped during college days. He then explores how universities became diverse and pluralistic over the years, shifting from the more humanistic ideal to the research ideal. He argues that, “students are taught to engage in critical thinking, to doubt, distance, and take things apart, but they are given almost no instruction on how to attach to things, how to admire, to swear loyalty to, to copy and serve.” Last, David shares 6 intellectual virtues his professors taught him: [1] they welcomed the students into the tradition of long conversation; [2] they introduced a range of history’s moral ecologies to the students; [3] they taught them to see well to the thing they were looking at as itself, not just as a mirror of their own interests; [4] they taught them intellectual courage; [5] they gave them emotional knowledge to refine the feelings in certain situations; and [6] the professors gave students new things to love by exposing them to great masterpieces. [Chapter 20] Mystical experiences, as David explains, “are moments when the shell of normal reality cracks, and people perceive some light from someplace beyond shining though.” Although these experiences often happen in nature, many history’s great figures had mystical experiences while in prison because “being imprisoned takes away everything else—material striving, external freedom, and busy schedules.” David shares Viktor Frankl’s dramatic experience in the Nazi concentration, where he concluded that the prisoners who survived of diseases or some breakdown were generally the ones that had some external commitment that they desired and pushed toward. [Chapter 21] This is a long chapter, yet interesting. David walks us through his religious journey from childhood all the way to adulthood. He shows that our faiths, feelings, and struggles evolve over time. During the process of inner transformation, according to him, we don’t “really notice it day by day, but when I look back at who I was 5 years ago it is kind of amazing, as I bet it is for you in your journey. It is a change in the quality of awareness. It is a gradual process of acquiring a new body of knowledge that slowly, slowly gets stored in the center of your being.” [Chapter 22] During his journey, he found out along the way that “religious people and institutions sometimes built ramps that made it easier to continue my journey, or they built walls, making the journey harder.” Based on that, he explores details of common ramps and walls we may encounter during our journey. [Part V : Community] [Chapter 23] Now we shift gears toward healthy communities. To better understand what a healthy community looks like, we first learn how social isolation can be detrimental to our communities and, at the end, to ourselves. David explains that community is “restored by people who are living on the second mountain, people whose ultimate loyalty is to others and not themselves.” Although building a community is a slow and complex process, David walks us though the first stages of community creation. Community renewal begins with commitment. Then, we have to fix the neighborhood as a whole instead of focusing on individuals one by one. From the diagnosis, we work on finding ways to bring the neighborhood together—“to replace distance with intimacy and connection.” Once people are gathered together, in some way or another, storytelling begins—“vulnerability is shared, emotions are aroused, combustion happens.” [Chapter 24] David explains that a community is formed by a group of people organized around a common story. In addition to sharing a story, communities thrive through a set of local codes such as: [1] being proactive toward internal needs; [2] offering radical hospitality; [3] having a long-term commitment; and [4] sharing common norms and behaviors. [Chapter 25] The last chapter is one of the best book conclusions I have ever read. To find belonging, meaning, and purpose we are encourage to “go deep into ourselves and find there our illimitable ability to care, and then spread outward in commitment to others.” David puts together the different elements of his argument in a manifesto form, divided in hyper-individualism, relationalism, the process of becoming a person, the good life, the good society, and a declaration of interdependence. Take care, Haical

The Second Mountain offers deeply insightful and well reasoned insights, as well as powerful and memorable narratives. It focuses on a key transition point in life — the evolution of egoist to moralist, and is applicable for people who find themselves in the midst of that transition. People who’ve found their original notion of success fleeting once achieved will find great solace and a viewpoint that can help them toward that Second Mountain in this book.

In the last five years David Brooks has been on a journey. The dissolution of his first marriage, the decline of neo-conservatism in Republican circles and his own involvement in sponsoring people involved in community and personal restoration has led him to revise his view of the world. Brooks now sees the struggle for personal advancement—for more money, status and power—as merely a lesser mountain for people to climb. The pursuit of happiness, the American dream...these individualistic strivings have been too emphasized in the contemporary West. There is a second mountain that touches the deeper aspects of our humanity. One climbs it by self-sacrifice and commitment to spouse and community. Above all, one realizes that true joy in life comes from believing and serving something greater than yourself. Brooks further believes this journey has importance for all of America. It is the baby-boomers hyper-focus on individual achievement that is at the root of our current political malaise. Only by a societal return to an other-centered life can we overcome our tribalism and divisions. If this journey sounds rather familiar it is because it is the same voyage many people have made throughout history. Thus, Brooks spends most of the book focused on the biographies and thoughts of great men and women with similar experiences. His own personal journey is fittingly secondary. But this is where the book has a fundamental weakness. While Brooks and those he cites can provide vivid testimonials of their experience there is no effort to ground any of this in a scientific account of human nature, a history of the world or our particular species, etc. After reading the book one might be left with the impression one has when someone describes how they found God and how that pulled them out of depression, anxiety, lethargy or some other predicament. No one would want to tell somebody to abandon a belief that had such beneficial effects, but a personal experience is just that—personal. Whether it translates from one person to another is highly doubtful. So while I admire Brooks’ bravery in writing such a counter-cultural work, I have to conclude that the book’s overall argument relies on nothing but testimonials. For someone who gives annual awards to social scientists this seems like a great lacunae. Why should I trust these testimonials if my experience of the world is very different? In short, if people read this book and become convinced to be other-centered and discover great joy in their life, I would be the last person to dissuade them. But from David Brooks I wanted more. I wanted some account of human nature that would ground this other-directedness in something rational. A powerful testimonial but, in the end, only a testimonial. In my opinion, that makes The Second Mountain an enjoyable but not an essential book.

It's hard not to be reminded of Thomas Merton's 1948 best-selling The Seven Storey Mountain because of the similar titles and both being spiritual autobiographies. Though Brooks quotes Merton at least once it is hard to know if Brooks was influenced by Merton in titling his book. Part memoir and part manifesto I was more impressed and interested in the memoir aspect. It's quite a story of mid-life crisis, mystical experience, and falling in love again. Given Brooks' elevated, secular positions as an op-editor at the New York Times and Yale University professor, I was surprised at how candid and spiritual the book was. Agreeing with almost everything Brooks has to say, I disagree, believing that we do have to find our truth although not necessarily create our own truth. Indeed, few of us are Aristotles but we do have an obligation to sort through of the "truths" we encounter in a lifetime. Also, I think it unfortunate that Brooks approvingly quotes Rabbi David Wolpe's contention that "spirituality is an emotion," in contrast to religion which is "an obligation." In my judgment, spirituality is much more than an emotion; it is the very essence of human existence. We are told at the end that an earlier version of the book provided the foundation for a course Brooks taught at yale. I wish I has taken a course like this when I was a college student, especially on the topics of vocation, marriage, and community building. In fact, I have ordered copies for both of my college-aged grandchildren I hope they read it often at life-changing intervals of their lives. It's that kind of book.

What a fabulous tome. Most books I read I enjoy or admire, but rarely a book comes along that you realize is not merely good it is important. The Second Mountain is just such a book. I hope and pray that it’s message can come to more define our society…and soon!

There's a good deal to like about Brooks' newest run at "character." Unfortunately, my quibble isn't with what Brooks says; it's with what he doesn't say. Once again, FTM: Follow The Money. There's a huge, concerted, well-funded effort in this country to promote the very elements that Brooks belatedly laments. The corporate, right-wing, "conservative" view is to bash anything and everything about government programs, social organizations, community organizations, unions, religious efforts at social justice (well, except the fundamentalist "prosperity Gospel" idea that society does best when you get rich, of course), and every other collective effort to support the broader society. Unfortunately, Brooks (willfully, I believe) ignores this pernicious activity. That message is, "Have a problem? Don't look to government. Have issues in your life? It's your problem; don't look any farther than your own nose because it's your fault. Concerned about society as a whole? There's no solution outside of the individual--don't look to an organization to help you do anything about it." People lamenting the cult of individualism need to look to the sources of--and the huge amounts of money and power behind--the messaging of individualism, and the denigration of social and community institutions that have been the bedrock of American democracy. For a great article on this intentional social destruction, go to bostonreview dot net and search on The Privatization of Hope by Ronald Aronson. He writes... "What a spectacle is offered by the privatization of hope: the displacement from the social to the individual, the growth of the personal at the expense of the social, and the remaking of the social into the biographical. These are driven, among other things, by relations of power and domination and by the overwhelming force exerted on every aspect of our beings by the economy and its priorities. Under these conditions, basic social impulses such as the need to contribute to a wider community become other than themselves without completely losing their original character, which abides in a repressed form. We can imagine a rebalancing of the social and the personal as a kind of “return of the repressed” but only through a transformation of the economic order that has been driving it. "That order has imposed a deliberate ideological and political project aiming to erode social connectedness and conviction. The first politician who sought to implement this revived Hobbesianism was British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher: “There is no such thing as society, only individuals and families,” she famously declared, which turned out to prophesy this transformation. Economics was a method whose “object is to change the soul.” A generation later in the United Kingdom, the United States, and elsewhere, that object appears to have been realized. "We have witnessed an immensely effective, well organized, and lavishly funded effort to reshape values, ideas, and attitudes. Writers working for right-wing think tanks such as the Cato Institute and the Heritage Foundation have implored us to turn away from treating the public realm as a terrain for improvement and change. They have been teaching cynicism about collective action and encouraging instead individual responsibility, personal initiative, and the centrality of private activities." I wish Brooks would accept responsibility for his "conservative" brethrens' contributions to--and support of--this mess instead of blaming the victims once again.

I have been a critical but adoring fan of David Brooks for many years. I often disagree with him on specific issues, but have always found his ideas intriguing and his openness compelling. All that got magnified when I met him when he gave a talk at Oberlin a decade or so ago and we spent a couple of hours together afterward. I learned then that he walks the talk.And that's what he does in this book in an often personally revealing way. As the title suggests, he talks about how lucky people (my term) climb two mountains. First, they succeed professionally with all the self-absorption that entails. Then--and here's where luck and hard work come in--they climb a second mountain that tends to be "relational, intimate, and relentless (xvi)." In climbing the second mountain, we commit ourselves to new causes, relationships, and service to others, all that is greater than ourselves.He knows of what he speaks. In typical Brooks fashion, the book is filled with literary references.This time, however, the book is largely about himself. After decades of success and hard work, he found himself alone, adrift, seeking meaning in his life. In the book, you climb the second mountain with him as he explores faith, relationships in general, and his own in particular.As always, I end up thinking about a slightly different mountain that defines what he calls vocation, spouse/family, philosophy/faith, and community in slightly different ways. But, I'm a better person for having read this. You will be, too.

I’m a big fan of David Brooks, and that’s something since I’ve never considered myself in his political camp. He is the last of a dying breed of conservatives, pure in philosophy but forgiving socially. And I can listen to Brooks for hours, but his writing is another thing entirely. It might be that I am in my mid-70s, and I just don’t want to spend much time reinventing myself. That’s on me, not Brooks. I’ve read a couple of Brooks’ self help books, and with both I’ve ended up doing something I hardly ever do—I’ve read about a hundred pages and then skimmed the rest. I did this with “The Second Mountain” too. The book is, in a nutshell, about moving from a “me” centered society (the first mountain) to a “we” centered society (the second mountain). This is no small task for Brooks to take on since we have never been in a more “me” centered world, at least in this country, than we have now. The current political climate is all about getting what you can for yourself while you can. And most of our national institutions are run by conservatives, so Brooks is fighting a losing battle, I’m afraid. These conservatives aren’t his conservative, as he has stated many time over the last few years. David Brooks was never better than when he and Mark Shields provided the point—count-counterpoint segment of The News Hour once a week on PBS. It was discourse at its best, and it’s discourse that could never happen now. Both sides would be labeled wimps for not tearing each other down. And that is precisely why David Brooks’ book The Second Mountain: The Quest for a Moral Life is a really hard sell in the current political climate.

Such a timely piece. Instead of chasing after “Vanity” goals - the ones that are social-media ready, this helps the reader shape a vision of a more fulfilling purpose in life.

I was sent this book as a present and I really tank my brother for that!

Like all of us, Brooks is evolving his thinking about what makes a good life. For him it is relational—we exist to improve each others’ lives, and in so doing improve our own lives and deepen our own joy. The book traces how and why key parts of a good second-mountain life, from vocation to marriage to a philosophy of living, are essential. It is part parable, part literature review, part autobiography, and part manifesto. It is very well written and will provoke the thoughts you want to have as you approach the top of the first mountain of your life, composed of career/house/spouse/kids/happiness, and think about starting to walk up the second.

If you find yourself questioning your happiness despite having it all, this book is a must-read!

Great read and encouraging for those seeking opportunities in their later years