I was going to write about this initially. But I got distracted by the wider context, and wanted to address that, first.

Like I said: I am privileged. I have opportunities. I want to be more egalitarian. But while this is superficially easy, I am not a naturally open and empathetic person. I try to be compassionate, but I can be a little cold. I’m not that great for the front lines of charity.

I already give money. I could give more, and will. But what is money? Money is a proxy for time and energy. But I also have time and energy. What should I do with those?

I was mostly selfish for most of my life. Not in an exploitative way—at least, not directly. As a person of privilege, I know I benefit from a lot of exploitation done by others, on my behalf. Our entire society—in the wealthy nations—is built on exploitation of people and other species.

Practically, I was a tool of the system. Like everyone else. Though a better rewarded tool. Because I studied. I learned high complexity skills. I became a software developer and computer programmer (what many people mistakenly call a “software engineer”). I worked at a profitable company. I was rewarded well, and the company did abnormally well, so I benefited. (Not as much as others at the company; the founder and CEO became a multi-billionaire. But I did fine.)

Now I have freedom. And the question is: what to do with it?

I thought I was going to make video games. I love video games. Certain video games, at least. I dislike most video games. But I dislike most of everything. It’s just taste. Well, mostly. Art also communicates ideas and beliefs. Corporate art communicates a lot of bad ideas and false beliefs. So my dislikes are also political. But even then, everything is, basically, a question of preferences, and the challenge of relating to people with different ones, especially when they are malevolent.

But there’s the rub, right? Being mostly safe from overt hostility in the world, I can freely pursue self-interest and personal enjoyment. I don’t need to care about anyone else. Not in the short term, at any rate. I do care! But I’m not at risk of immediate harm if I neglect to act on it. (I still need to respect people, even if only in commercial transactions, or else I might get ostracized. I still have to pay my bills and taxes, or I might get sued, or lose my home.)

As a person trained in communication, and theories of language (both humanistic and mechanical), it makes the most sense for me to do something helpful in that area. But what?

I’m up against a social prejudice against better use of language. And I’m talking about “regular people”—that is, if they even exist. What is a “regular” person? A “normal” person? Language is giving me trouble, here. Is there an empirical “regular person”? Or are they mythical?

Let me try to depict what I feel is the average person, when it comes to attitudes towards knowledge, understanding, and language. The average person doesn’t care that much. That is, they don’t care to study or analyze language in general, or their specific use of it. Language is the air that they breathe, the water that they swim in. Language is mostly invisible.

Maybe it can’t be any other way. Does the average person have time to waste thinking about how well or poorly they communicate? Or are they content with the status quo?

It comes down to purpose: how do they want to use language? To accomplish what? How do they want to apply the knowledge which language encodes? Do people want to think about their purpose, their goals, and their strategies? Or do they just want to follow their habits?

Most of us are mostly living habitual lives. The benefit of free time is that you can, if you choose, consider your habits. Are they good habits? Are they effective? Productive? Beneficial? Or merely comfortable and familiar?

I can’t force anyone to change. But maybe I can find a way to demonstrate alternatives, and, perhaps, the benefits of change.

People want change, right? Mostly, we want other people to change. That’s fine, if we approach it respectfully. But we also have to change. In fact, we—I mean “I”—have to change first.

So I’m asking myself, “How should I change?” What should I do differently? What should I stop doing? What should I do instead? How should I get better at things? Can I help other people also get better at doing things? Can I help people get better at learning, thinking, communicating, and understanding? And would that be better for everyone? Or just for them? Or just for me?

I don’t really know. I can’t really know. But I think it would be better for everyone.