Slow Havamal: 9

[kylec]

In the ninth verse, we start with an exact repetition from verse eight: that a man is happiest when he gets his praise and wisdom from within. It’s common to err on the bad advice of others.

Anything worth reading is worth re-reading. The first three lines from the eighth verse are repeated, and it’s safe to say this is an important point. The second half of our previous verse pointed out that we can never be sure where we stand with others, and in my commentary, I looked at the logical fallacy of pleasing people. Now the reader’s attention is turned to bad advice. Often in the quest for praise, we may follow the words of one who we want to impress.

Now, Odin isn’t saying, “Never take advice.” There are obviously times when good advice is exactly the thing we need. Rather, it’s a certain caliber of suggestion we’re warned to avoid. Again, we have a balance to strike. Before, we had to find the line between being a complete people-pleaser and a selfish jerk. Now, it’s between a slave and a fool. The repeated portion offers a clue. Why do we take advice? If it’s to please or impress someone, I run a greater risk of acting in error, because the goal is simply to comply with a person who I find impressive. Equally, there are impressive people who offer very good advice and from whom I might benefit. The purpose of taking advice should have less to do with currying favor, and more with learning and improving one’s self.

If the latter is my approach, then it isn’t the adviser who matters, it’s the advice itself. Advice is essentially a prescription for action. Whether the person, book, youtube video, etc. issuing it is impressed with me has no bearing on success. The action has intrinsic value by making me more capable. I need to look at the advice on its own terms and decide if it’s useful or not. An idiot may well give a much-needed word of caution, and a wise man, a bad idea. What works for one person may not work for another.

The problem with advice is that if I’m seeking it, I do not know. If I do not know, how do I know if this is beneficial? Crawford says it well in the same verse of his Cowboy Havamal, his rendering of this poem in the vernacular of his grandfather: “You’ve got a head on your shoulders; use it, boy.” While we benefit from others’ wisdom, we can’t become dependent on it. If I receive some advice, I can start by considering the speaker, his track record, his motives for giving me the advice, his biases, strengths, and weakness. Expertise in on area doesn’t transfer to all other fields. Sometimes, I can also check the advice itself. Have others used it successfully? Do others who probably know the answer say similar things? But there will always be situation in which the speaker is in doubt and the advice can’t be tested ahead of time. In these situations, I have to use that head Crawford mentioned. My personal method would be a risk assessment, along the lines of Nassim Taleb’s work. What is the maximum potential benefit, and maximum potential harm? I want my actions to have the greatest upside and the smallest downside—antifragility. If it usually works out to a minor benefit, but there is a rare, yet severe potential for catastrophe, I would tend to avoid that situation, though most people, governments, and business consultants love to invite such fragility.

To the watchful eye, we have yet another instance of humor in Havamal. This poem is giving us advice, and at the same time, cautioning us against blindly taking it. Havamal isn’t dogma to be accepted and repeated. It affords the opportunity for self-awareness through critical exploration. Reconciling apparent contradictions at times is part of that. Safe passage is not guaranteed. I will often need the help of others, and always need my powers of examination. Doing as others say is a poor form of learning, fraught with potential for disaster. Learning to think for yourself, while being open to help, is a far better resource, and one I think the High One may have intended.