Some things get better. Other things get worse. But to hold on to an idea that everything is getting worse is just not accurate. Also, to be absolutely certain that things can’t get better is not only foolhardy but also destructive. Why? You might ask. After all, if we are cynical about things, we can’t really be disappointed. We can’t get criticised for being too idealistic. We can’t be accused of wishful thinking, and we don’t have to disagree with the hordes of naysayers who so aggressively want to convince us that they are right. It means we can stay safe.
But I’ve thought a lot about this. A few years actually. And I’ve come to the conclusion that cynicism is not only bad for your emotional health but actually destructive to many aspects of your life. Here are a few reasons why.
Cynicism doesn’t allow us to see solutions to problems.
Our emotional state largely affects how we perceive and experience things. It’s hard to move in a positive direction when we are in a state of complete despair—or even just a state of mild despair for that matter. If we have a belief that things can’t get better, why try to make things better? Why look for solutions if you’re certain that nothing will work? Being cynical creates a sense that we are a victim of circumstance. This is bad, because that state doesn’t allow us to see solutions or make changes. So, even if our circumstances are dire, even if we are right about how bad things are, being cynical doesn’t really add anything valuable to the situation. Cynicism just stunts our sense of agency.
Cynicism doesn’t allow us to do good work.
Good work requires some optimism. A sense that things can get better for me and those around me. Also, if we want to do great things, we need to see silver linings in dark clouds. When I say do great things, I don’t mean it to sound grandiose. It can just mean doing good work daily. Or it can just mean helping someone through a difficult period. Or it can mean serving someone through the job that you do.
Cynicism affects creative work negatively.
To make some form of art daily, you need some level of optimism. It’s difficult to write a good fiction scene when you’re completely down in the dumps. It’s difficult to produce good quality work if you believe that things can collapse at any moment. Sure, you can make art while you’re sad, but when you create from sadness there’s usually some internal spark that makes that possible. Some sense that there’s light at the end of the tunnel. It’s harder, if not impossible, to create when there’s a complete internal stagnation because things appear so bleak.
This, as far as I can tell, is also true for innovative ventures. To build something, whether that is a business, an online app, or a new product, takes immense internal courage and persistence. You need immense internal fortitude to swim against the sea of doom and gloom in the form of people’s opinions. But when you’re building something important, you can’t really afford to be cynical; you need to show up everyday to do the work. You have to cultivate positivity and ignore the critical crowds.
Cynicism is also not great for work such as teaching or counselling. When you’re working with people, it’s good to have some sense of “things can get better” or “things can be better for this person.” A student can improve. A patient can become healthier. Cynicism isn’t even good for purely analytical work such as math or coding because it siphons off so much of your mental bandwidth.
Bottom line: cynicism isn’t good for work.
Cynicism disconnects us from the magic of life.
In my previous post, I wrote about flow state. Flow, for me is when I connect with the magic of life. This is usually when I write fiction and the words simply flow, no pun intended. Flow is when I’m no longer stuck in critical writer mode but simply listening to what the character is telling me. When my fingers are typing but I can’t quite keep up. Flow, for me, isn’t always effortless. There are times that I’m aware that I’m struggling to get the scene together. But there is still something magical inside that struggle. Inside that process of making the story better is a sense that this is where I’m supposed to be and what I’m supposed to be doing. That is how flow feels for me. And this is why I find fiction writing magical.
Cynicism stands in contrast to flow. When we are in flow, we are open and have a sense of possibility. Being cynical shuts us down from this. There is no magic in cynicism. There is only a sense of everything is going to the dogs. Nothing can get better. And why should I try.
Final thoughts
I guard against cynicism because I find it useless and destructive. But in fairness, we do have some reasons to be cynical. Life can be very, very hard. And on a deeper level, from what I’ve seen, cynicisms is often rooted in unprocessed grief.
I became less cynical after processing through heavy amounts of grief. It’s not really authentic to force yourself to “be positive” or to “look on the bright side of life” when you feel grief-stricken and heavy. I don’t think we should force ourselves into happy states. Happiness often comes as a consequence of being unburdened from the past. So, if we truly want to be authentically optimistic and emotionally at peace, the first step is processing through old emotions.