Graduate Speaker Pete Davis | Harvard Commencement 2018

I'm sure

many of you have had this experience.

It's late at night

and you start browsing Netflix looking for something to watch.

You scroll through different titles,

you even read a few reviews,

but you just can't commit

to watching any given movie.

Suddenly, it's been 30 minutes and you're still stuck

in infinite browsing mode,

so you just give up.

You're too tired to watch anything now.

So, you cut your losses

and fall asleep.

I've come to believe that this

is the defining characteristic of our generation. (LAUGHTER)

Let's call it keeping our options open. (LAUGHTER)

There's this

philosopher, Zygmunt Bauman.

He calls it "Liquid Modernity."

We never want to commit to any one identity

or place or community,

so we remain

like liquid

in a state that can adapt

to fit any future shape.

Liquid modernity

is infinite browsing mode,

but for everything in our lives.

I've been thinking about this recently because

leaving home and coming here

is a lot like entering a long hallway.

You walk out of the room in which you grew up

and into this place with thousands of different doors to infinitely browse.

And throughout my time here, I've seen all the good that can come

from having so many new options.

I've seen the joy a person feels when they

find a room more fitting for their authentic self.

I've seen big decisions become less painful

because you can always quit,

you can always move,

you can always break up in the hallway.

We'll always be there.

And mostly I've seen all the fun folks have had

experiencing more novelty

than any generation in history

ever experienced.

But

as I've grown older here,

I've also started

seeing the downsides of having so many open doors.

Nobody wants to be stuck behind a locked door,

but nobody wants to live in a hallway either.

It's great to have options when you lose interest in something,

but

I've learned here that the more times I do this,

the less satisfied I am with any given option.

And lately the experiences I crave

are less the rushes of novelty

and more of those perfect Tuesday nights

when you eat dinner with the

friends who you have known for a long time,

who you've made a commitment to,

and who won't quit you because they found someone better.

I've

discovered in my time here that the

people who inspire me the most

are those who have left the hallway,

shut the door behind them and settled in.

I think of Fred Rogers recording episode 895

of Mister

Rogers' Neighborhood because he was committed

to advancing a humane model of moral education.

I think of Dorothy Day sitting with the same outcast folks night

after night after night because it was important

that someone is committed to them.

I think of Martin Luther King,

but not just the Martin Luther King who confronted the fire hoses

in 1963,

but the Martin Luther King who hosted his 1000th tedious planning meeting

in 1967.

When Hollywood tells tales of courage,

they usually take the form of slaying the dragon.

It's all about the big brave moments.

But I've

been learning from these heroes that

the most menacing dragons that stand in the way

of reforming the system or repairing the breach

are the everyday boredom

and distraction and uncertainty

that can erode our ability

to commit to anything for the long haul.

It's why I love that the word "dedicate"

has two meanings.

First,

it means

to make something holy.

Second,

it means to

stick at something for a long time.

I don't think this is a coincidence.

We do something holy

when we choose to commit to something.

And in the most dedicated people I have met,

I have witnessed

how that pursuit of holiness

comes with a side effect

of immense joy.

We

may have come here

to help keep our options open,

but I leave believing that the most radical act we can take

is to make a commitment

to a particular thing,

to a place,

to a profession,

to a cause,

to a community,

to a person,

to show our love for something by working at it for a long time.

And to close doors

and forgo options for its sake.

We often assume that some

acute

and looming threat,

be it a foreign invader

or a domestic demagogue

will be our downfall.

But if we were to end,

that end is just as likely to come

from something far less dramatic,

our failure

to sustain the work.

It is not only the bomb or the bully

that should keep us up at night.

It is also the garden untilled

and the newcomer unwelcomed.

The neighbor unhoused,

and the prisoner unheard,

the voice of the public unheeded,

and the long simmering calamity unhalted,

and the dream

of equal justice

unrealized. (APPLAUSE)

But

we need not be afraid,

for we have in our possession,

the antidote

to our dread.

Our time

free to be dedicated

to the slow,

but necessary work

of turning visions into projects,

values into practices,

and strangers

into neighbors.

That is why

in this age of

liquid modernity,

we should rebel

and join up with a counterculture of commitment

consisting

of solid people.

That is why in this age of

infinite browsing mode,

we should pick a damn movie

and see it all the way through. (LAUGHTER & APPLAUSE)

Before we fall

asleep,

let's get to work. (APPLAUSE)