My name is Dorian Minors. I started btrmt. over a decade ago
as a way of sharing the psychology I was studying with people who
weren’t, or couldn’t. We each live such peculiarly turbulent lives,
“the halt, lame, half-made creatures that we are.” Psychology seemed
an incredible way of applying rules of thumb to transform some of the
chaos of this human experience into meaning. Why, then, should these
rules only be accessible for people with the right degree?
I’ve since continued. Six years in the military. A PhD in brain
science at Cambridge. Now Associate Professor at Sandhurst. Clinical
practice, teaching, research. All of it looking for some instruction
manual for this device in our head that seems to hold such potential
to smooth the rough edges of our lives.
Sadly, I didn’t find one. Anyone who tells you they did is lying.
But I did find something. The more you study the brain, the clearer
it becomes: the main thing this device does is map the world to
patterns of responding. Rituals of thought, which become rituals of
behaviour. Because we’re animals first.
But we’re animals with an extraordinary gift. Of all the creatures,
humans have the greatest capacity for nurture. No other animal can
come together and share ideas the way we can. We look to each other to
cultivate ourselves—it’s our defining quality.
And our defining travail. That same impulse to cultivate ourselves
gets shaped by a world of animals. Power. Productivity. Status. The
habits of thought, feeling, and action that shape us—they’re
graceful solutions to an impossible complexity. But most of them
were given to us, not chosen by us. Absorbed from the world around
us. And we rarely pick them up and examine them. How could we, when
our attention is routinely directed towards the economy of shame,
outrage, yearning, and terror that floods our media streams.
These ideas we inherit are karstic things: pretty landscapes that
obscure the sinkholes, caves, and rivers beneath. Better to look where
you tread.
So, that’s btrmt. Without the vowels to remind us that
betterment is empty without checking what we’re being better for.
Here, I gather the patterns we inherit and examine them, so you can
choose the ones worth keeping.