It was a living Mount Rushmore.
On my TV screen, Alex Rodriguez, David Ortiz, Derek Jeter, and Mookie Betts sat behind a desk, engaging in a panel discussion.
It was almost surreal. Two Baseball Hall of Fame members, a future Hall of Famer, and a would-be Hall of Famer talking about the game I love so much. This was a rare treat.
At one point in the discussion, Jeter turned to Betts.
Mookie, you’ve achieved everything in this game. You’ve won a batting title and a Most Valuable Player award. You’ve been an All-Star and a two-time world champion. What are you chasing now?
I stared intently as Betts pondered the question.
Discipline, he replied. I’m trying to stay disciplined as I keep after it. Motivation will come and go. But if I can maintain my discipline, I feel I can continue to achieve at a high level for quite some time.
I was floored.
Here was a man with immense talent and accolades. Someone who would have no qualms about setting a lofty goal on national TV, and then going out and achieving it.
But instead, he stayed within himself. He remained focused of the path, rather than the destination.
Perhaps there’s something to maintaining discipline, I thought. Perhaps it’s the key to achievement.
Not exactly. But it can certainly get the journey off to the right start.
When I was a freshman in high school, I was a two-sport athlete. I ran cross country in the fall and then played baseball in the spring.
The crossover between those sports was minimal at best. If I smacked an extra-base hit, I’d fly around the bases. But it wasn’t quite the same as bounding on gavel trails through hilly terrain for a few miles.
Even so, my approach to both sports was nearly identical. I would have healthy fare – such as a sandwich and a Gatorade – for lunch. Then, I would spend a good 10 minutes stretching my muscles before a practice or a competition.
None of this had come naturally to me. As a bratty adolescent, I yearned to get right out there and compete. All these preparation routines seemed like a waste of energy.
Yet, my coaches instilled the value of discipline in me. Not just in the batter’s box or at the starting line. But well before those points, as well.
And I bought in. Completely.
Much about my life has changed in the decades since high school. But my commitment to discipline has remained.
I still stretch before I work out. And I still try to eat relatively healthy. But I’ve expanded the scope of my rigor.
I remain fiscally responsible. I keep my calendar meticulously organized. And, I’ve committed to adding a new article here on Ember Trace each week for nearly eight years.
It’s not easy to maintain this approach. Much like Mookie Betts, I’ve seen my motivation wane at times. And when it has, the temptation to loosen my grip on the reins has been powerful.
Still, I remain steadfast in my commitment.
Yes, discipline has been resonant for me for much of my life. And it could resonate with all of us.
Discipline is not inherited. It’s learned.
Those high school coaches that instilled discipline in me once had their own introduction to the principle. And there was a time when their mentors learned the ropes as well.
Yes, discipline is a construct. It’s something humanity has innovated, evangelized, and abided by through the generations.
This point is more than a footnote. It’s a reminder that the concept of restraint is itself constrained.
Adherence to discipline, by itself, doesn’t take us to the promised land. But it does raise the floor. It sets solid confines for us to explore our potential while minimizing the risk of bad outcomes along the way.
Taking that next step is on us. Unlocking new possibilities requires guts. We must be courageous while staying within the bounds of discipline.
This truth has held for generations. And I have no doubt that it will continue to do so.
Recently, I had a discussion with a co-worker in a different department of my company.
The colleague was interested in the impact of Artificial Intelligence – or AI – in marketing. And as a marketer, I had some thoughts.
I had heard the gloomy narrative from outsiders about AI replacing my discipline wholesale. I’d seen the sunny disposition of those within my team, all too happy to let the machines take over the most monotonous of responsibilities.
Further afield, I’d caught wind of some amazing things AI had already done. I’d also read about the technology helping students cheat academically, or prodding journalists to end their marriages.
These fragments of information were disparate enough to be disorienting. It was hard for me to connect the dots, and to determine the scope of this sea change.
But instead of panicking about the implications of an unwritten future, I zoomed out.
For all its might, AI is still a human innovation. It’s a quantum leap forward for technology that we’ve created. And while it might already act independently of our explicit commands, we can still set the terms of play.
Indeed, we still have the chance to instill some discipline.
This is precisely what I told my colleague. Sure, AI could be a boon for marketing, for business, for life. But those advantages would fade away quickly if we gave it the reckless abandon of a toddler hopped up on candy.
We need to hold onto some discipline. To use our judgment to set strategic frameworks for AI to work under.
But we also need to have the courage to let AI operate boldly within those frameworks. We must swallow our pride and accept the paths blazed by the machines, even if they break with precedents we’ve set.
This careful balance of courageous discipline will allow us to get the most out of the next chapter. It will provide us the tools to embrace AI as a friend, rather than a foe. And even when the discussion moves beyond AI, this framework will help us thrive personally.
When rigor meets heart, it’s a powerful thing.
Let’s harness that power.