Be Sincere—Not Serious

Back when I was a manager in a large corporation, I noticed myself alternating between two distinct states at work. Most of the time work was fun. Even when I clocked long hours on challenging projects, I enjoyed myself and looked forward to doing it again the next day. 

Other times, I was a tightly wound ball of stress who sucked the joy out of a room like a Dementor from Harry Potter. Even when my workload was lighter, things just felt difficult. Eventually, I realized the work itself wasn’t to blame—it was my attitude that was triggering one state or the other. For a long time I wondered what was going on.

I found an answer to this problem in the work of British philosopher and writer Alan Watts, who in one lecture addressed his audience with the statement, “I assume that maybe you are not serious, but sincere.” 

Although he doesn’t elaborate further in that lecture, his words jumped out at me. As I reflected on the difference between these two modes of being, something shifted for me. The distinction gave me a new tool—a lens to help me identify when a curious, playful approach to challenges might be more effective than tension and struggle. Using the meanings I’ll explore below, it turns out that you can’t be serious and sincere at the same time. Seriousness precludes sincerity.

For the most part, you’d be better served by being sincere rather than serious. Yet in life, we often gravitate towards the reverse. Let’s dive into the difference between the two and show you how to access the life-changing magic of sincerity.

It’s just a ride

In his stand-up, American comedian Bill Hicks compares the world to a rollercoaster: "The world is like a ride at an amusement park, and when you choose to go on it you think it's real, because that's how powerful our minds are. And the ride goes up and down and round and round. It has thrills and chills, and it's very brightly colored, and it's very loud."

Some people, he points out, recognize that life is "just a ride," while others seem strongly invested in and attached to it being in some sense real: "look at my furrows of worry. Look at my big bank account and my family. This has to be real!” Hicks’s tone is stronger and more judgmental than I would use, but his point is clear: it's possible to get so caught up in the bells and whistles of experience that you lose sight of the bigger picture.