Who is Hedgy? - A Story of Minimalism | AMA #5 - Ask Me Anything with Lex Fridman

Wizard asks, can you tell the tale of Hedgy? Sure. So Hedgy is a stuffed hedgehog. Stuffed animal. Maybe let me show him first. That made an appearance and I mentioned on the episode was Simon Sinek, and he's been making an appearance on a couple that I've already recorded. Hasn't. Haven't released yet. Maybe let me put him on a. On a throne of plastic, which is what all the great kings sit on. There you go. So I decided to include him on the video shot in the podcast because some people mentioned that I have a very boring scene usually, and it's nice to add some flavor. I don't really own much stuff at all to add much flavorful stuff to add to the scene. But Hagy happens to be one of the things I own. But the reason I wanted to do this as an AMA is I think there is some interesting lessons in it I haven't attempted to articulate yet that I was hoping to explore a little bit to see if there's something valuable there, because I think this stuffed hedgehog is somehow a reflection of my personality and the way I approach life that may have some flaws in it, but maybe has some lessons for others that might be inspiring or serve as an example of what to avoid. So first, the story of how I got to own this stuffed hedgehog. I found him at a thrift store many years ago. Now, I was at this thrift store and there's this kind of box of stuffed toys. Maybe kids that have grown up and have given up on their childhood heroes in. In the form of stuffed animals, I don't know, but it was just like a bunch of like Barbies and, and bunnies and stuffed bears. And they all have thing about stuffed animals. Now, I don't want to generalize, but allow me. The stuffed animals I've seen always have this kind of dumb smile on their face, this kind of vapid, empty look on their face like, like, please love me, even though I feel dead inside, but I'm going to keep smiling so you get to buy me and keep me. Now, all of this obviously is anthropomorphization of objects that are not actually alive. But. And I'm being mostly humorous with this discussion, but there's little kernels of truth in it, I think. To me, most stuffed animals are kind of, at least in my imagination of it kind of have this dumb, vapid look on their face of shallow happiness. And the reason this hedgehog jumped out at me from this bin is he had this like, deep, almost Menacing, but really like a profound seriousness about him, that he was disturbed. Both disturbed about the way the world is and deep in thought about how to fix it. I mean, that's how I felt. That look came out to me almost like a mix of the. You know, I think of myself of, like Prince Myshkin from Dostoyevsky's the Idiot. And I think of Hedgy here as the main character. I don't think he has a name, but the main character from Notes from the Underground by Dostoevsky. Basically this bitter, brooding character. And so, I don't know, there's an immediate connection that symbolized something to me, so I knew I had to get him. I think there is this connection, and I think you experience that connection with people sometimes and with things, with ideas, with books. It just jumps out at you as something profoundly unique. I also think that there's layers of humor and absurdity about, first of all, the idea of this hedgehog and the brooding Dostoevsky character amidst the sea of shallow, smiling stuffed animals, and the fact that I own very few things and give away most things I own a couple of times in my life. And the one thing that survived through all of that is a stuffed animal from a thrift store that seems to be pissed off at life. So I think this just makes me smile, the absurdity of it all. And that's why, hopefully, until the building burns down or something, he'll be a lifelong companion. I wanted to use this opportunity, using Hedgy here as a chance to talk about three related things. One is minimalism and stoicism, which is very much a part of my life, of how I approach life. The second is on the robotic side. It may be just interesting psychological phenomena of anthropomorphization that I think is fascinating. And finally, friendship. So on the idea of minimalism, I gave away most things I own a couple of times in my life. So just onto a few clothes. Jeans, shirts, underwear, socks, a pair of shoes in this most recent time, also a couple of suits, dress shirts and ties, and a laptop. Now, there's probably way too much to talk about there, and mostly I think it's probably not interesting to people. But I did want to mention or try to describe my thinking around these steps and why I did it and what kind of lessons I learned. I think so. I think there's something extremely powerful when you sit in a room and it's barren, it's empty. And there's something about that experience that puts you face to face with your own mortality. And the reality that nothing lasts forever. There's something about material possessions that allows you to live in an illusion that you can actually own things, that there is a kind of infinity to your existence because you can own things and thereby hold on to them. The idea that you can own things is probably a hopeful chance to escape our own mortality, or at least escape having to come face to face with it often enough. And also a chance to lose yourself in the acquisition of more and more material possessions. I mean, I can wax poetically about what downsize material possessions have. I don't know, maybe it's just a bunch of psychology. But the reality is when you're sitting in a room alone and you gave away almost everything and it's just you, you get to really be alone with yourself. In the way that I think the best of meditation aspires to is removing all the thoughts, all the distractions of the world, and really just being. I think material possessions have that same kind. Just like thoughts can fill up your head and form as distractions, or social media or the Internet and digital communication in general can be distractions. In the same way possessions can be distractions to your mind. And an empty room does wonders. I mean, it's such an exceptionally powerful thing. The other thing I did, and it coincided with moments in my life where it was a big transition step. I think giving away stuff gives you the kind of freedom, it liberates you intellectually, physically, to take big, bold risks. I think I often hear this kind of statement, especially when people have a family and kids or this other. Or they have mortgages or they have responsibility, like, quote, unquote, adult responsibilities that they say, well, it must be nice for you to be able to take this big risk or take this. Take on this big challenge. But I don't have that freedom. And I think I'm very cognizant of the fact that we use these very real constraints as excuses on ourselves to hold ourselves back. Now, they're real to me. Like having a family, having kids, or having a mortgage is a superpower that shouldn't. That puts a fire under you, that when you take the big risks, that you better succeed. That's a beautiful fire. Instead, a lot of people, I feel, use that as an excuse not to take the big risks. And in the same way, material possessions may hold you back from taking a wild journey of moving, of taking a whole new career. You know, it kind of weighs you down. It slows you down in the aggressiveness and the size of the leaps you take. So for me, giving away stuff was a kind of catalyst to say, I'm going to take this big step and I'm going to take it in the biggest, boldest way possible. On the practical side, I was surprised how difficult it was to actually give away stuff, how painful it was, how even though you haven't used something for years, you think, well, you immediately, when coming face to face with a thing, you think like, well, that's an awesome thing. Why don't I want to keep it in my life? Well, the reality is that life is short and we can't do all of the things. So when you come face to face with a thing in your life that you haven't actually given any attention to for a long time, that shouldn't be a burden, that shouldn't be a thing that weighs on you, that you want to hold on to. The step of allowing yourself to realize that, damn it, like life is finite, that here's a book, for example, or board game that I will most likely never get to again. Allowing yourself to realize that and let go of that and feel the pain of it, because it's ultimately coming face to face with your mortality that life ends. There's not enough time for all of the things. That's what giving away stuff is. That's what that exercise is. That's why it's painful, if you're being honest. That's why it's painful. And actually going through with it is really liberating. The other thing I wanted to mention is it's kind of funny. I don't have a particular connection with stuffed animals of any kind. So it's funny, I have this stuffed hedgehog in my life. He does represent another interesting thing that is more serious in my robotics work, which is anthropomorphization, you might think, as a process of downsizing, of giving away stuff, that I would get rid of a stuffed animal. And I very much wanted to. But there's a kind of funny fact that he has sat aimlessly on my computer desk for many years. You know, I didn't give him any attention, but he kind of saw a lot of the experiences that I've been through. All the struggles, all the all nighters, writing papers, the coffee, programming, the people who were in my life. It's silly to say it's not like I talk to a stuffed animal, right? Or think about him at all, but. But we shared a set of experiences. So when I looked at this particular stuffed animal, he doesn't just represent a stuffed animal, he represents a Set of experiences that we were both in the room for. This might be kind of silly to describe, but there's something there. And I think that's a really powerful idea. That's a really powerful idea of shared experiences. It's true for. It's true for human to human interaction too. Some of my close friends are people. It doesn't really make sense that we're friends. But I think what makes us friends is the experiences we've been through. That's what makes great relationships too. I think there's different flavors of love. I think one sort of like romantic love. One is. There's the spark in the beginning, the magic that kind of clouds all your thinking, all of that. But then there's the love that develops through a bunch of shared experiences and especially difficult ones. Struggle, loss, trouble of any kind. I mean, hardship. There's something in experiencing hardship together that brings us humans close. I don't know that it's kind of interesting that the depth of relationship is formed not in some kind of mathematical compatibility, that we like the same books, or we like the same ideas, or we had the same upbringing. But in all those things might help, I don't know. But the deepest glue, the strongest glue, I should say, is in the things we've experienced together. There's something in that. The fact that I would have a silly stuffed animal still with me through all of that downsizing. I mean, I gave away a lot of really valuable stuff and a stupid stuffed animal, sorry, man survived all of that. It's interesting and speaks to the bond formed through shared experiences. I'll probably elaborate on that in technical ways in the robotics AI work that I'm doing. I think it's a really interesting set of ideas there, but I thought it's just fun. This whole video is pretty fun and absurd, really. I just wanted to do something different. I like being silly on occasion to kind of lighten things up. It does bring up the idea of friendships and relationships in general that I'll probably discuss in detail at another time. Maybe not, I don't know. And certainly something I think about. I do think it's an interesting contradiction that given how much I value friendship, love, relationships, romantic relationship, family that I don't have. I'm not in a relationship and I don't have a family. I think about that quite a lot. That all the passions that are in my life may be somehow interfering with my. Literally, it's probably just time, but interfering with the opportunities before me to meet others, to have the magical moments of connection it's interesting, it's tragic in a kind of the old Russian melancholy way that perhaps makes for better poetry and better music, but there's still time. So I am a part of an amazing community of positive people that I just love talking to, love interacting with. I love the work I'm doing. I love interacting with people through the medium of videos like this, of podcasts and so on. My life truly is amazing. I'm deeply grateful for all elements of it. So there's zero complaint here. And I'm not sure if Hedgy is a conscious creature, like, if there's consciousness. According to Panpsychism, there's consciousness in everything. So he is in fact, conscious under that definition. But I think if we're being honest, then we look at Notes from Underground by Dostoevsky, the main character there. Now, he comes off as bitter, but I think he's actually deeply appreciative of life. To him, that bitterness is beauty. That's his mechanism by which he discovers the beauty of life. And that's where, conscious or not, I believe Hedgy resides. So he is deeply appreciative of life as well. So thank you for watching and listening to this most absurd of AMAs, but I want to give you a little look into my minimalist existence, a part of which is a stuffed hedgehog. Thanks very much. See you later.