There’s a strange subpopulation of Ivy League undergraduate students. They’re accomplished, driven, and capable. Yet they’re deathly averse to genuine effort. In fact, they actively sabotage their own goals.
In college, as the years passed and the stakes rose higher (from intro classes to job hunting) I noticed some of my friends spent increasing time consuming reality TV, experimenting with drugs, or partying. They drowned themselves in pleasure and mindlessness rather than send an application or crack open a textbook. Although they talked about how badly they wanted to achieve, it seemed that their real goal was to guarantee failure.
“Maybe they got sloppy, maybe they lacked drive, or maybe they couldn’t discipline themselves.” Maybe. But in my late-night talks with them, I found that it ran deeper than apathy, laziness, or an inability to self-manage. After a lifetime of habitual success, my friends weren’t suddenly struggling with the familiar road to achievement; instead, they were actively sprinting in the opposite direction.
Why? Why were these overachievers suddenly sabotaging their own goals?