“Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not: nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not: the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.” - Calvin Coolidge
Writing is more important than ever.
This post marks the 1-year anniversary of Invariant. Despite what could be assumed from its name, this publication has nothing to do with ignoring change. Very much the opposite. Practically speaking, there are two things that are invariant: human nature and the fundamentals that dictate the physical universe.
Everything else is up for grabs.
But weirdly, part of human nature is periodically discounting and misjudging human nature. As technology advances, our quality of life increases beyond the wildest imaginations of a century prior, all while birthing new complex problems. Paradoxically, although the net result is an incredibly favorable exchange, people end up simultaneously cheering for innovation while protesting change.
A prime example is artificial intelligence, with specific emphasis pointed to tools wielding generative pre-trained transformers (GPTs). Barring rightful concerns including plagiarism, infringement, and fraud, such tools are rapidly evolving from novelty to utility, and while criticisms can be made regarding present accuracy, it is undeniable that their ubiquity will only grow alongside usefulness.
However, one idea that is assuredly false is that these tools will erode the importance of writing. This is nonsense largely predicated on a failure to appreciate the process of writing. Writing is not merely a way to bundle volumes of words. It’s not about procedurally collating data. Writing is about identifying gaps in your thinking and finding ways to fill those voids. With new tools, more people will be generating more material, and while much may be valuable, there will likely be far more gaps created than filled. Writing is more important than ever.
Building something that lasts
I learned the hard way. I wasted years, armed with a pen and paper, scribbling down lists and drawing arrows when connections were obvious. I wasn’t writing - I was note-taking. Poorly. It was only by transitioning from easy-note-taker to hard-gap-filler that I found the power of writing. My thinking became clearer. So did my words.
But around a year ago I felt like something was still missing. A simple question was floated: What if?
What if I simply pushed my ideas out into the world?
Invariant was launched.
The growing interest in Invariant, from 0 to nearly 4,000 subscribers, has exceeded all reasonable expectations. But there was never an aha! moment. No virality. No tricks. The steady ascent reflects the nature of the experiment.
The rules:
Write for an audience of one.
Distill value.
Publish consistently.
Build roots. Gain allies.
These are not all universally good rules, but they are good for Invariant because they align with the clear goal of building something that lasts.
1. Write for an audience of one
Conventional wisdom will tell you to define your market, identify your audience, and granularly map how to target. Instead, I’m writing for an audience of one: myself. Most of my time is spent reading and researching, learning about the world through the lens of finance, and refining my investment process. The clarity provided by writing is integral.
But writing for an audience of one doesn’t mean being stuck with an audience of one.
Obsessing over a larger audience risks steering yourself away from your own interests. It’s easy to begin to cater to what you think others want, making it harder to remain skeptical, objective, and critical. Plus, ask any writer, and they’ll tell you about when they laboriously wrote something they were certain would be a home run with an audience, only to see it flop. Counterintuitively, widely acclaimed works often fill authors with doubt all the way until they publish. Too personal? Too obscure? Too weird? Those are just assumptions, and you never know how a piece will resonate and who with. So don’t guess other people’s curiosities. Chase your own. If you authentically pursue your curiosity and write about what you’re passionate about, it will be unmistakable. Instead of burning out, you will be energized, and when people who share that passion come across your work, they will eagerly join along in the journey. Your audience is out there.
2. Distill value
One of the shortest books I ever read had 745 pages.
The longest book I ever read was 205 pages.
- Nassim Taleb, The Bed of Procrustes
It’s easy to say very little with lots of words. Doing the opposite is hard. But that’s how value is generated.
Distillation = clarity x relevancy x density x novelty
Clarity comes from finding the right words. Density comes from removing the wrong ones. Relevancy and novelty are harder to balance, as the former comes from filling in small gaps while the latter requires creative risk to bridge chasms. If you take on too much risk and the writing structure appears unstable, kill your darlings to prevent total collapse.
An easier way to kill your darlings is to have someone else do it for you. A trusted editor can look at your work with a fresh perspective and quickly find weak points. As sensible as this is, I’ve avoided it and have acted as my own editor—willfully sacrificing a degree of quality to prevent diluting my own voice. I’m okay with occasionally sounding clunky, so long as I sound like me.
3. Publish consistently
I’ve forced myself to hit publish once a week, every week, no matter what.
It isn’t ready? It’s not perfect? Doesn’t matter: hit publish.
You can always find a reason to stall. Then it becomes easier to find a second reason, a third, and progress slows to a crawl. There isn’t a single piece in my archive perfectly distilled or complete. But that’s true for everyone, and that’s fine. For one, you can’t close every gap every time, but you can revisit and expound later. More importantly, recognize that any sense of inadequacy felt by looking at your past work is misplaced. Those are good feelings that reflect your personal evolution.
4. Build roots. Gain allies.
Writing can be quiet and isolationary. That partly helps with achieving clarity of thought, but it also ignores another radical benefit of publishing: the power of connection.
The world’s complexities are too big to tackle alone. Search for inspiration everywhere. When you find works you love, engage, contribute to the discussion, share it, and advocate for it.
Several writers have kindly provided unique advice and perspectives, and I am further indebted—three specific pieces played a pivotal role in convincing me to start this project:
- : The Work of My Life: September 2021 Report
- : No niche is ever too crowded for fresh thinking
- : AWS: “Scoring 1,000 Runs”
And I am continually encouraged by the work and support of many, including:
Sinstockpapi LINDAAlong with writers, focus on building relationships with your readers. All engagement will help you fill in the remaining gaps faster. Cherish criticism especially—there is always room to improve. Also, put time towards responding to every piece of earnest engagement across every platform where your work is published and shared. This may seem inefficient and unscalable, but it doesn’t need to be. Writing scales. A good 500 words can be x10 harder to write than a bad 10,000, but with strong relationships, the total value generated will compound, as will your reach.
Rules are made to be broken
Authenticity. Distillation. Relationships. Those are non-negotiable. All other rules are made to be broken, and that’s only fitting because our world is getting messier and noisier.
With a strong foundation built, what’s in store for Invariant? Surely more experimentation, exploration, deep analysis, history, and philosophy.
Thank you for reading and being part of this. Time to get to it. Here’s to year two and beyond.
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Questions or thoughts to add? Comment here or message me on Twitter.
Disclaimer
This publication’s content is for entertainment and educational purposes only. I am not a licensed investment professional. Nothing produced under the Invariant brand should be thought of as investment advice. Do your own research. All content is subject to interpretation.
Too often financial newsletters are solely about the next investment idea that, once public, normalizes the expected risk-adjusted return. Refreshing to read Devin’s work. Rich and thoughtful and this take on the business of writing is very helpful to how I should approach Personal Finance Economics on Substack. Thank you Devin!
Congrats and well deserved base of subscribers. It will only compound going forward!