Having written entirely for other platforms like Forbes and LinkedIn to date, I am trying something new with writing for my own blog. Thank you for joining me on this journey. Feedback encouraged and welcomed.
Today I want to unpack my experience with the “quantified self.” For those wondering what in the world I am talking about, Wikipedia says: “The quantified self refers both to the cultural phenomenon of self-tracking with technology and to a community of users and makers of self-tracking tools who share an interest in “self-knowledge through numbers.””
To be clear, I was NOT an early adopter here. In 2012 I had an analyst I worked with who had started down this path. Spreadsheet after spreadsheet of data on what he ate and when, when and how he slept, exercise details, specifics on what he was working on during specific time windows when at the office, and more. What he planned to do with all that data did not matter to me. It sounded like making life more work, and I was not interested.
Fast-forward a decade, and how times have changed. With the ubiquity of wearables and learning from people I admire like Tim Ferriss and Peter Attia about what they learned, changed, and improved in their own lives thanks to the data they get from their devices, in 2020 I jumped on the bandwagon. First it was an Amazon Halo, and then after including Whoop advisor Ed Baker in my book, I switched to the Whoop in 2021.
I have certainly gained some insights from the data captured, but nothing as groundbreaking as I may have foolishly expected. I don’t drink alcohol much or frequently, and when I do, the one or two drinks don’t seem to impact my sleep. I do drink caffeine daily but stopping for a week or two does not either help or hurt my sleep. The one insight that is likely to elicit some change is the knowledge that I am “over trained” (identified by my chronically low HRV for those interested). Having not had a day off from exercise (literally) since the day of my daughter’s birth, January 21, 2016, it might be time to start including some rest days in my life.
However, despite the limited insights from the data, the entire exercise of living a “quantified life” brought me to a far larger, and hopefully more impactful realization. The cliché, apparently incorrectly attributed to Peter Drucker, is that “what gets measured gets managed.” Given my rather compulsive personality, this is doubly true for me. What I was measuring is what my device reported on. How much REM sleep? How much Deep sleep? What was my recovery score? What was my strain yesterday? And this behavior carried over to other parts of my life like tracking every book I read or listened to, and more.
Two years into the experiment I got a similar feeling as I had the first year of my daughter’s life. At the time I had a disagreement with my wife about “who is doing more.” To try and “win” the argument, because trying to win at marriage is not just a terrible idea, right(?), I began tracking each minute I spent with our daughter, my wife spent with her, and that we spent with her together. Within two weeks I noticed that something that was literally my favorite part of my life (spending time with my daughter), I was starting to think of as a chore. Tracking my time with her as if I was a first-year associate at a law firm and she was my client made it feel like work. That was not the result I expected or would tolerate. I stopped immediately and resigned myself to “losing” the argument. My time and enjoying that time with my daughter was far too important to measure.
My experience with the quantified self has been similarly very different than initially expected or desired. By constantly fixating and trying to optimize the metrics my wearables tracked, I began to miss out on what I was not measuring. Yes, getting my ideal number of hours of sleep each night made my weekly and monthly dashboard look better, but did declining to spend some time just relaxing and watching a Netflix show with my wife make my Life (will a capital “L”) better? Consistently getting to bed and getting up at the same time, even on the weekends, was better for my physical health, but what did being so rigid in that such that I missed out on all sorts of socializing activities with friends do to the quality of my life?
Because I was not measuring these, for too long I never even asked the question. No more.
I am now moving away from the “quantified self” and to the “qualified self.” The quality of my life, and I believe any life, cannot be simplified down to a few easily identifiable data points. This is not to say I will not track and assess my life. After all, as Socrates said thousands of years ago, “the unexamined life is not worth living.”
For me, however, I am just going to spend more of my time examining more of what truly matters to me, and that, no device is currently able to track. That’s on me.