Mark: Alright, Michelle. The book is called 'Fck Feelings.' In one sentence, what's your gut-reaction, self-help-aisle-approved advice for someone having a bad day? Michelle: Oh, easy. 'Just think positive! Your feelings are valid, and you can manifest happiness if you just change your mindset!'... I feel like this book is about to tell me I'm a complete idiot. Mark: You are not an idiot, but the book would definitely say that advice is. It basically takes that entire shelf of the bookstore, douses it in gasoline, and lights a match. Today, we are diving headfirst into the brilliantly abrasive world of Fck Feelings: One Shrink's Practical Advice for Managing Life's Impossible Problems by Michael I. Bennett and Sarah Bennett. Michelle: Okay, Bennett and Bennett. Is this a family affair? Mark: It is, and that's the secret sauce. Michael Bennett is a Harvard-educated, board-certified psychiatrist with decades of experience. His co-author, Sarah, is his daughter... and a comedy writer. Michelle: Whoa, hold on. A psychiatrist and a comedy writer? That explains so much about the title. It's like getting a diagnosis and a roast at the same time. Mark: Exactly. It’s clinical wisdom delivered with a punchline. And their core message is that our biggest problems aren't our problems themselves, but the wishful thinking we bring to them. They start by attacking the most sacred cow of all: the idea of self-improvement.

Michelle: Okay, but isn't trying to improve ourselves the whole point of... well, everything? Of getting up in the morning? That sounds incredibly cynical. Mark: It sounds cynical on the surface, but it's actually deeply pragmatic. The Bennetts argue that the relentless, American-style pursuit of "self-improvement" often becomes a form of self-sabotage. We set these huge, vague, impossible goals, and then we feel like failures when we can't achieve them. Michelle: What kind of impossible goals are we talking about? Mark: They make this brilliant distinction between a "Bad Wish" and a "Good Goal." A Bad Wish is something you can't really control, especially not your feelings. For example, a classic Bad Wish is: "I want to learn to love myself!" Michelle: That's on a thousand inspirational posters. What's wrong with that? Mark: Because you can't just decide to love yourself, especially if you're wired for self-criticism. The authors say a "Good Goal" would be: "Love the effort I put into putting up with myself." See the difference? One is about achieving a feeling, the other is about rewarding an action. Michelle: Ah, so it's not about lowering the bar, but changing the game. You're judged on your effort, not the final score on the feeling-o-meter. Mark: Precisely. They give another great example with addiction. The Bad Wish is: "I will never drink again, ever!" It’s a recipe for failure, because one slip-up means you've broken your absolute vow. Michelle: And you spiral. I've seen that happen with friends on diets. One cookie and the whole week is a write-off. Mark: Exactly. The Good Goal is: "I will never stop working hard to resist delicious alcohol." It acknowledges the struggle is permanent. Your success isn't measured by perfect sobriety, but by the continuous effort to fight the battle. It builds resilience instead of shame. Michelle: That actually feels... kinder, in a weird, tough-love way. It gives you permission to be imperfect. Mark: It's all about accepting your limitations. The book features a story about a hardworking salesman who gets laid off. His wife leaves him. He's a mess, crying all the time, and he comes to therapy saying, "I just want to regain control of my life and stop feeling like a loser." Michelle: Which sounds completely reasonable. Mark: It does, but it's a Bad Wish. He can't control the economy, he can't control his wife's decision, and he can't just turn off his grief. The book's advice isn't to find the root of his sadness or to think positively. It's to accept that life has stampeded him, and his goal now is damage control. Can he get out of bed? Can he make one phone call about a new job? Can he manage his behavior, even if his feelings are a total wreck? Michelle: Wow. So the focus shifts entirely from fixing your feelings to just... functioning. To doing the next right thing, no matter how small. Mark: Yes. They argue that real confidence doesn't come from achieving perfection or feeling great. It comes from knowing you’ve used your limited strength to do something important, even when it's hard and you feel awful. You stop trying to be a hero in your own story and just become a competent manager of your own chaos. Michelle: A competent manager of my own chaos. I think I need that on a t-shirt. Okay, I can see how that applies to our internal world, our own goals and feelings. But what happens when the problem isn't me, but someone else? What about when life is just... unfair? I feel like the 'just accept it' mantra falls apart there.

Mark: You've hit on the second, and arguably harder, pillar of their philosophy. If "Fuck Self-Improvement" is about internal reality, "Fuck Fairness" is about the external world. And you're right, it's where most of us get stuck. We have this deep, almost religious belief that the world should be fair. Michelle: Of course we do! Without that, what's the point? We teach kids to share, to play by the rules. We build legal systems around it. Mark: And the Bennetts would say that's a wonderful ideal for society, but a terrible personal strategy for survival. Believing you have a right to fairness is, in their view, an illusion that sets you up for rage, disappointment, and terrible decisions. Michelle: That sounds bleak. So if someone is bullying you, or your partner cheats on you, you're just supposed to say, "Oh well, life's not fair," and take it? Mark: Not at all. This is the most misunderstood part. It's not about being a doormat. It's about making a cold, rational calculation about the best way to protect yourself, rather than acting out of a sense of righteous indignation. They tell a story about a shy high school student, Alex, who is relentlessly bullied. Michelle: Okay, a classic scenario. Mark: The conventional wisdom is "stand up to the bully!" But the book says to first assess the situation. Is this a situation you can win? In Alex's case, ignoring it didn't work. It escalated. His goal shouldn't be to "teach the bully a lesson in fairness." His goal should be to "make the bullying stop." So he confides in a teacher, reports it to the administration, and gets his parents involved. He uses the system. He takes a strategic action that has a high probability of success. Michelle: Right, he's not starting a fistfight he'll lose just to prove a point. He's playing chess, not checkers. Mark: Exactly. Now contrast that with another story they present: a woman in a relationship with a man who is sweet and loving, but becomes violent when he drinks. Her friends tell her to leave, but she believes she can "fix" him. She's operating on a wish—the wish that he can be reformed, that her love can create fairness and safety where there is none. Michelle: And that's incredibly dangerous. Mark: It's the ultimate dangerous wish. She's trying to impose her sense of what should be onto a reality that is screaming otherwise. This is where the book introduces its definition of an "Asshole." An Asshole isn't just a jerk; they're someone who is fundamentally oblivious to the harm they cause and is incapable of change. Trying to reason with them or "fix" them is like trying to teach a shark to be a vegetarian. Michelle: So the book isn't saying 'be a doormat.' It's saying, 'stop pretending the world plays by your rules.' You have to assess the situation realistically. Is this a bully you can report, or a lost cause you need to escape from? Mark: You've nailed it. The goal is to stop making your primary goal "getting justice" or "feeling vindicated" and start making it "minimizing damage and preserving my own sanity and safety." You give up the fantasy of a fair world so you can deal with the real one. It's a trade-off: you lose the satisfaction of righteous anger, but you gain peace and a plan that might actually work. Michelle: I can see why the book is so polarizing. For some people, that must feel incredibly liberating. For others, it must feel like giving up on the very idea of morality. Mark: It's a huge challenge to our wiring. But the authors argue that true morality isn't about demanding fairness from an unfair world; it's about behaving with decency and integrity yourself, even when, and especially when, the world doesn't return the favor.

Michelle: So, when you put it all together, the book is arguing that our biggest sources of misery aren't our problems, but our expectations about our problems. The expectation that we can be perfect, and the expectation that the world should be fair. Mark: That's the entire thesis in a nutshell. It's a radical call to lower our expectations, not of our behavior, but of our control over feelings and outcomes. And the authors' final piece of advice is incredibly practical. Stop focusing on how you feel about the problem. Instead, define your values, set a realistic procedure for what you can do, and then take pride in executing that procedure, regardless of the outcome. Michelle: It's about finding dignity in the struggle, not victory in the outcome. Mark: Yes! You might still feel like crap. You might still lose. The asshole might still win. But you can go to bed at night proud that you handled an impossible situation with realism, strength, and integrity. And according to the Bennetts, that's a much more solid foundation for self-worth than the fleeting feeling of "happiness." Michelle: It really makes you think... What's one 'bad wish' you've been chasing in your own life, and what would a more realistic, effort-based goal look like? Mark: That's the question, isn't it? It's a tough but maybe liberating idea. We'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Find us on our socials and share your take. Is this a philosophy for a healthier life, or a recipe for cynicism? Michelle: This is Aibrary, signing off.