Chasing Applause vs. Internal Validation: Stoic Lessons

This conversation with comedian Bert Kreischer, framed through the lens of Stoicism, reveals a profound tension between the relentless pursuit of external validation and the internal discipline required for genuine fulfillment. Beyond the immediate appeal of Kreischer's signature humor and raw honesty, the dialogue unpacks the hidden consequences of chasing applause and the subtle ways our calendars and opinions of others can hijack our agency. For creators, performers, or anyone navigating the public eye, this exchange offers a strategic advantage: understanding how to decouple self-worth from fluctuating external metrics and cultivate a more durable sense of success. It highlights that true mastery lies not in avoiding external feedback, but in developing the inner resilience to process it without letting it dictate one's mood or trajectory.

The Paradox of Performance: Chasing Applause vs. Internal Validation

The allure of external validation is a powerful, often insidious, force. In the context of performance and creation, the feedback loop from an audience--whether it's laughter, sales figures, or streaming numbers--can become an all-consuming pursuit. Bert Kreischer, in his candid discussion, grapples with this directly, particularly in relation to his Netflix show's debut. The immediate data points, like Netflix's real-time popularity rankings, present a tangible, yet often opaque, measure of success. This creates a vulnerability, as the creator’s sense of accomplishment becomes tethered to metrics they don't fully control. The hidden consequence here is that an over-reliance on these external signals can erode intrinsic motivation, leading to a constant state of anxiety and a diminished capacity to appreciate one's own work independent of its reception.

"It's hard to put stuff out in the world. You work really hard on something, then you put it out there, and then other people get to say. They decide whether they're going to laugh at the joke or not, they decide whether they're going to buy the thing you're selling or not, they decide whether to vote for you. And that's really hard. In a way, it challenges one of the most important principles in Stoicism, which is to not care about things that are not in your control."

This quote encapsulates the core dilemma. The desire to excel in one's craft is natural, but when that desire morphs into an absolute dependence on external affirmation, it becomes a system that is inherently unstable. The downstream effect is a constant need for reassurance, making one susceptible to being "whipsawed around" by opinions, as Kreischer describes. This dynamic is particularly evident in his reflection on the Tom Brady roast. Despite his personal feeling of a strong performance and positive in-room reception, the internet's negative feedback created significant doubt. The conventional wisdom would suggest acknowledging and perhaps even internalizing such widespread criticism. However, Kreischer’s eventual lean into his own experience, questioning why the internet’s opinion should supersede his lived reality, points toward a more robust, internally validated framework for success. This internal compass, when cultivated, creates a lasting advantage, insulating the individual from the emotional volatility of public opinion.

The "Witching Hour": Navigating the Lure of Indulgence

Kreischer's exploration of sobriety, particularly his description of the "witching hour" around 5 PM, reveals a deeper systemic challenge: the ingrained patterns of behavior that associate certain times of day or moods with specific forms of indulgence. His admission that he "loves closing it down" and the feeling of getting "lit" highlights a pleasure-seeking impulse that is difficult to dislodge, even when the long-term benefits of sobriety are clear. The health-induced sobriety he is currently experiencing, prompted by a health scare, presents a different challenge than a self-imposed, short-term abstinence. It forces a confrontation with the underlying reasons for these habits, rather than simply pausing them.

The consequence of this ingrained habit is a constant internal negotiation. Kreischer describes waking up hungover and feeling a powerful endorphin rush after a punishing workout, often feeling better than he does waking up sober. This paradox--that the aftermath of indulgence can, through compensatory effort, lead to a profound sense of well-being--is a critical insight. It suggests that the immediate "pleasure" of indulgence is often separated from its "afterward feeling" in our minds, allowing us to rationalize it.

"We think about like, it's going to be fun to go out drinking and so that's like the pleasure part. Yeah. And then it's like the hangover the next day. That's a different person. Like it's not all part of the same. Like if you had to, you take the pleasure and then you put the afterward feeling on top, it balances. You're like, 'Oh, this probably isn't worth it.' But when you separate the two, you're able to rationalize it to yourself."

This separation is a key mechanism that perpetuates cycles of indulgence. The "witching hour" represents the point where the rational mind, having enjoyed the immediate reward, must now contend with the anticipation of future consequences or the ingrained habit of seeking a particular kind of relief or excitement. The advantage of recognizing this "witching hour" and consciously "bussing" oneself through it--as Kreischer attempts with stand-up--lies in disrupting the automatic cascade from a specific time or feeling to a habitual indulgence. This requires a proactive strategy, a conscious redirection of energy, which is precisely the kind of effort that builds long-term resilience and a more stable sense of self.

The Blinders of Hangovers vs. The Openness of Sobriety

Kreischer's observation about the "blinders" opening up with sobriety offers a powerful metaphor for how our physical and mental states shape our perception of reality and our capacity for engagement. When hungover, the world can feel narrowly focused on immediate discomfort and the desire to return to a state of ease. The individual is often consumed by the immediate needs of their body and the lingering effects of their choices, limiting their awareness and appreciation of their surroundings. This is the "blinders" effect, where the world shrinks to the immediate, often unpleasant, present.

In contrast, sobriety, even after a relatively short period, allows for a broader perspective. Kreischer describes this as seeing "the trees and the rocks," sending videos to his daughters expressing happiness, and experiencing a "new lease on life." This amplified awareness and emotional openness are not merely pleasant side effects; they represent a significant systemic advantage. When one is not expending energy managing the consequences of indulgence or operating under a fog of intoxication, more cognitive and emotional resources are available for appreciation, connection, and proactive engagement with life.

"When you're sober and you've been sober for a week, couple of weeks, few weeks, the blinders open up. When you're hungover, you do get blinders."

This distinction highlights how conventional wisdom often prioritizes immediate gratification over the delayed, but more profound, benefits of self-discipline. The "punishment" of a workout after indulgence, while seemingly counterintuitive, can become a way to regain control and experience a different kind of reward--the endorphin rush and the feeling of accomplishment. However, Kreischer also questions whether this compensatory behavior is truly optimal. The idea of "exercise bulimia" or "hypogymnasia" suggests that even positive actions can be driven by a negative feedback loop rooted in shame or self-punishment. The true advantage, then, lies not just in sobriety, but in cultivating a baseline state where such compensatory behaviors are less necessary, allowing for a more genuine and less fraught engagement with life’s challenges and joys.

Defining Success Beyond the Scoreboard

The conversation circles back to the fundamental question of what constitutes success, particularly when external metrics are so prominent. Kreischer grapples with this through the lens of his movie, The Machine, and his Netflix show, Free Bird. The initial theater performance of The Machine was a commercial disappointment, yet Kreischer found personal satisfaction in the creative process and the positive reception from those who saw it. This internal validation clashed with the external data, creating a dissonance that was amplified by external opinions.

His reflection on the Tom Brady roast further illustrates this. Despite his personal satisfaction and the positive reception from those present, external commentary (the internet, Tony Hinchcliffe) declared it a "bomb." This forces a critical question: should one's definition of success be dictated by external pronouncements, or by internal experience and the quality of the effort? Kreischer’s eventual lean towards his own experience, questioning "the internet or what our experience was," is a crucial step in decoupling success from external validation.

"And then I go, 'Why don't you just start your day?' And I go, 'Yeah, but the answer is there. What are we going to not look at the answer?' So I go to Netflix and it's just the wind's wheels spinning and I go, 'No, that's the Lord telling me not to look at Netflix. Don't look at Netflix.'"

This internal dialogue reveals the struggle to resist the pull of external data. The true advantage lies in establishing a definition of success that prioritizes factors within one's control: the quality of the work, the effort invested, the personal growth achieved, and the intrinsic satisfaction derived from the process. Kreischer suggests a layered approach: "Did you like the show? Yes, I'm very proud of it. Did you have fun making it? I just, I loved it. Did you get better making it? Yes... Does it say what you set out to say? Yes." By prioritizing these elements, which constitute "95% of what I'm going to wring out of this thing," the external metrics become secondary, "extra" benefits rather than the sole determinants of achievement. This internal framework allows for resilience, ensuring that a project’s perceived failure in the eyes of others does not negate its personal success.

Key Action Items

• Develop a "Seneca" Framework: Identify trusted mentors or peers whose judgment you value, not for validation, but for grounded perspective on decisions and reactions. (Immediate)
• Establish "Witching Hour" Protocols: Before 5 PM each day, consciously decide how you will navigate potential urges for indulgence or distraction. This might involve scheduling a specific activity, reaching out to a supportive contact, or simply acknowledging the feeling without acting on it. (Immediate)
• Journal Compensatory Behaviors: For one week, track instances where you engage in intense activity (e.g., extreme workouts) immediately following periods of indulgence or stress. Analyze the underlying motivation: is it genuine self-care or a form of self-punishment? (Over the next quarter)
• Define Project Success Internally: Before embarking on any significant project, outline 3-5 criteria for success that are within your control (e.g., quality of execution, personal learning, creative expression) and prioritize these over external metrics like sales or reviews. (Ongoing, applied to new projects)
• Practice "Not Checking": When awaiting significant external feedback (e.g., project launch results, review scores), intentionally delay checking for at least 24 hours. Use this time for your established routines and to process the potential outcomes internally. (This pays off in 3-6 months by building resilience)
• Reframe "Failure" as Data: When external results are disappointing, consciously shift focus from the outcome to the lessons learned. What specific aspects of the process were within your control and could be improved? What external factors were truly at play? (Ongoing)
• Cultivate Playfulness: Actively seek out and incorporate moments of lightheartedness, silliness, and joy into your daily routine, independent of external achievements or rewards. (Immediate and ongoing)