Having already written an article on lessons I learned at SXSW 2019, I was more aware than normal when I arrived in Park City, UT for the 2020 Sundance Film Festival, knowing that I wanted to learn as much as I could, so I could then distill what I learned into another set of lessons.

For some reason, my brain gives the number nine the same color as it does to Park City, UT, so here are nine lessons from the 2020 Sundance Film Festival:

Lesson 1: Stay for the credits.
Lesson 2: Talk to strangers.
Lesson 3: Make your compliments specific.
Lesson 4: Don’t use people.
Lesson 5: Start doing whatever you want to do.
Lesson 6: You don’t have to be an entrepreneur.
Lesson 7: All choices can be made right.
Lesson 8: Produce and re-produce.
Lesson 9: Sensations are relative.

Lesson 1: Stay for the credits.

Most people in the film business stay for the credits after a screening. Certainly, most people at Sundance did. It’s a show of respect to everyone who worked on a film, as well as a show of curiosity, as in, “I wonder who the Director of Photography was; they were amazing!”

Staying for the credits can only bring good things, and the practice can be extended beyond the film industry:

• If you read a book you love, read the front-matter (i.e., the pages that precede the actual content of the book), and find out who published it.
• If you love the string arrangements on a song, read the physical or digital liner notes, and find out who arranged them.
• If you love a painting at a museum, read the plaque beside it that names the painter and somehow turns a blue spot on a white canvas into a metaphor for how Planet Earth is nothing but an infinitesimal sphere rotating and revolving within infinity.

A movie, like any other work of creativity, cannot be made without people,¹ and knowing which people are behind a work of creativity humanizes the work, gives you names to reach out to, and makes you part of their world.

Lesson 2: Talk to strangers.

Unless a stranger seems to carry a billboard that reads, Strangers who talk to me will suffer in some way, I say: Talk to strangers!

My best experiences at Sundance came from talking to strangers.

I used to do this thing where I’d really want to talk to a stranger for whatever reason, but instead of doing so, I would act aloof, not say anything, and then regret it.

No more!

Just say something.

If you say something stupid, it’ll make for a funny story to share with others (I have many of these).

If the other person doesn’t respond, maybe it’s their also wanting to talk to you, a stranger from their perspective, but not knowing how to.

If the other person definitely doesn’t want to talk to you, that’s okay; it’s their choice, so don’t act as if the choice were yours by taking it personally.

Talk to strangers! Not doing so makes it impossible to meet and connect with new people who might enrich your life.

Instead of seeing strangers as aliens, see them as potential friends, because they are. After all, most people in our lives were strangers to us at one point.

Lesson 3: Make your compliments specific.

“That was amazing!” “You did great!” “Wow!”

These compliments are okay, and they’re far better than hating on people, being envious, or not saying anything and just asking for a selfie, but they’re too vague; so vague, that when people receive them, it likely doesn’t even register.

Let’s look at a couple of case studies:

Case Study #1: After a film screening at Sundance, I overheard someone saying to the film’s lead the following: “You were literally amazing!”

The film’s lead smiled, said thank you, and that was the end of it.

Case Study #2: After a musical performance at Sundance, I overheard someone saying to the performer: “That last chord you played gave me shivers; it was amazing!”

The performer’s face lit up, and the two of them began a full conversation about why that chord had the impact that it did.

Conclusion: Which was the better compliment? I’d say the latter.

The point isn’t to learn music theory, but to listen and observe intentionally, and to be as precise as possible when expressing genuine admiration.

It’s the only way that you will be able to fully express your admiration, and that the other person will be able to fully receive it.

Lesson 4: Don’t use people.

Here is “The Humanity Formula”² as proposed by Prussian philosopher and all-around good guy, Immanuel Kant:

Act in such a way that you treat humanity, whether in your own person or in the person of another, always at the same time as an end and never simply as a means. — Immanuel Kant, ~1785

Thanks, Imma (that’s what we call him in the biz).

I was reminded of this formula during Sundance, due to the negative examples I witnessed of it.

A lot of career advice in entertainment seems to me to be some form of “use this person to get a job you can brag about and then get rid of them forever,” or “this person is useless to your career so get rid of them, unless pretending to care about them would help, in which case pretend away!”

Furthermore, much of the admiration that people express to each other in entertainment (see Lesson 3) seems to me to be less about expressing genuine admiration, and more about thinking that expressing some form of admiration will help them get ahead.

Bear in mind that The Humanity Formula doesn’t preclude you from benefiting from others — just as it doesn’t preclude others from benefiting from you. What it does preclude you from is from only seeing others as means to your own advancement, without recognizing their humanity, which is an end in and of itself.

In other words, it’s awesome to benefit from other people—again, just as it’s awesome for other people to benefit from you. What’s not so awesome is when we see and treat other people solely as means to acquire some benefit.

Imma got it right centuries ago, but he’s been out of the spotlight for some time, so it makes sense that we would forget some of his ideas; I mean, I didn’t discover them until very recently.

So, with the permission of Mrs. Kant and the rest of Imma’s family, I present to you: The Humanity Formula of 2020!

“#DontUsePpl“— Imma Kant, 2020

Lesson 5: Start doing whatever you want to do.

In one of the seminars I attended at Sundance, a writer-director talked about how he made his first film while he was a junior in college.

He said that when he decided he wanted to write a script, he wrote a script, and when he decided he wanted to direct a script, he directed his script.

Here’s the lesson: Start doing whatever you want to do.

There’s a pervasive misconception, especially in the arts, that you have to wait for a big break (whatever that means) to do whatever you want to do.

Not true.

If all you want with all your heart is to be an actor, then sign up for an acting class. Now act. Congratulations. You’re acting. That’s it!

How much time you’re willing to dedicate to acting and how much you improve is up to you. That last part is worth repeating: This is up to you.

Now, if your goal is to be a movie star, win trophies, and make millions of dollars, that’s great; just know that these things are not up to you, and they constitute goals that are separate from the goal of acting. Again, worth repeating: These other things are not up to you.

If what you want is external recognition for doing something, then recognize that this is not fully up to you, and adjust your expectations accordingly.

If all you want is to start doing something, whether it’s acting, cooking, yoga, or whatever…you can just start doing it.

It’s up to you!

Lesson 6: You don’t have to be an entrepreneur.

I met several people at Sundance who are accomplished in their creative or athletic endeavors and have a “day job” — an accomplished dancer who is also a Film Acquisitions executive and a professional yoga instructor who is also a Development executive, to name two.

“Quit your job and make a living from your passion” doesn’t apply to everyone.

Being a slave to the pressure of having to “do your own thing” is no different than being a slave to a company, and neither is necessary.

You can work for a company that treats you well and you can do whatever you want to do because you want to do it, instead of because you think you have to.

Or, you can start your own business.

Or, you can just be an employee.

Anything goes.

It’s up to you!

Lesson 7: All choices can be made right.

An investor I spoke with at Sundance gave me great advice.

I asked him to describe how he approached making choices so as to increase the probability that he made the right one.

His advice was simple: There is no such thing as the right choice.

He explained that if you’re making a choice between several options, it’s implied that all your options are already good enough for you to be considering them; therefore, none of the options are bad, so no choice would be a bad choice.

Furthermore, whether a choice is not only not bad but also right, cannot be determined before making the choice, but only after the fact: Are you able and willing to turn the choice you made into the right choice?

Okay, that’s a lot. Let’s look at a brief case study.

Case Study: You’re offered a great job in a so-so city, and you’re also offered a so-so job in a great city. Which one do you choose?

Conclusion: It doesn’t matter.

The trick is that whichever one you choose, you have the opportunity to live so as to make it the right choice.

If you choose the great job in the so-so city, you can choose to do your best at work and move your career forward, which will, in time, yield more options, including perhaps a great job in a great city, or contentment where you are.

If you choose the so-so job in the great city, you can choose to enjoy the city, meet new people, and improve your quality of life beyond work, which will, in time, yield more options, including perhaps a great job in a great city, or contentment where you are.

This exercise can get complex, but it works! It’s already worked for me.

It removes the pressure from having to make the “right” choice, and instead gives you the agency to turn any choice into the right one.

Lesson 8: Produce and re-produce.

At a Sundance seminar, a film executive said that in recent years, many movies at the festival have been under-produced, i.e., they were too long, they were not polished enough, or they could’ve used a rewrite.

A bold statement, considering that Sundance is one of the most prestigious film festivals in the world.

Still, according to this executive, through the gradual disappearance of intermediary roles like editors and producers, we’ve increased the risk of sharing creative work that’s under-produced.

I agree…and I’ve been there.

The only way to guard against this risk of underproduction is to produce and re-produce our work.

In music, the best guitar players sculpt their solos instead of building them; they start with a lot and sculpt it down to whatever elevates the song.

The best stand-up comics trim their bits until they’re only as long as they need to be; they start with a really long setup and gradually trim it down to only the words necessary for the punchline to hit.

The lesson is this: If you like making things, produce and re-produce your work.

Ask someone you trust for help, act as your own producer, or do both.

Don’t just rely only on the initial impulse of an idea or on your first draft. Instead, produce and re-produce it, until it’s the best it can be.

P.S. You’re reading the fifth draft of this essay. I don’t know if it’s perfect, but I’m sure it’s better than the fourth draft.

Lesson 9: Sensations are relative.

At about nine in the morning, I walk up to the equipment rental desk of the Brighton Ski Resort, eager to take off my snow boots. I’ve been walking in them for two days and my feet are pulsing with soreness, begging me to free them. Finally, I take off my snow boots. My entire body relaxes. I toss the boots to the side and stare at them with disdain. I now insert my feet into a pair of rented-out ski boots; they’re tight and uncomfortable, but at least they’re not my snow boots. I hate my snow boots.

Fast-forward four hours, and I’m skiing down my last slope. I can’t stand these ski boots. I can only move my toes inside them enough to know that I still have toes, and I’m not sure if I still have a left shin. I can’t wait to get out of these ski boots and get into my snow boots. Ah, my snow boots. It’s been so long. We’ve been through so much together. I make it back to the equipment rental desk and after much struggling, I take off my ski boots, like freeing my legs from a yeti’s bite. I put on my snow boots, like dipping my feet into warm slippers. I love my snow boots.

What this experience taught me is this: Sensations are relative!

Any time you sense that something is uncomfortable, painful, scary, or any other unpleasant sensation, ask yourself this: As compared to what?

You have the power to ask the question, and you have the power to answer it, however you choose to.

If you compare wearing snow boots to being barefoot in Malibu, you’ll hate your snow boots.

If you compare wearing snow boots to wearing monstrous ski boots, you’ll love your snow boots, or at the very least you’ll be grateful that you’re not wearing ski boots, and being grateful will make the sensation less intense.

The point isn’t to repress sensations, as in, “This broken foot really hurts, but not really, because at least I’m not dead!”

If it’s unpleasant, it’s unpleasant.

That said, though we can’t and shouldn’t try to make sensations disappear, realizing that they’re relative can decrease their intensity and give us a healthier perspective on reality.

Notes

1. I know, Artificial Intelligence can now be creative and “disrupt” the world, but I, for one, am not interested in listening to a song written by my oven.↑
2. Johnson, Robert, and Adam Cureton. “Kant’s Moral Philosophy (The Humanity Formula).” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Stanford University, July 7, 2016. ↑

This year, I had the opportunity to attend the SXSW Conference & Festivals in Austin, TX. Though it would be difficult to plan an unsuccessful event in Austin, which might be the most fun city I’ve experienced, SXSW exceeded my expectations. I learned a lot, met creative people I’ve admired for years, and gained admiration for creative people I hadn’t heard of before.

So, in honor of ten days of SXSW, here are ten lessons from SXSW 2019:

Lesson 1: Listen to everyone.
Lesson 2: Get off screens and blink.
Lesson 3: “Disruptor” is not an occupation.
Lesson 4: Default to creative work and schedule promotional work.
Lesson 5: The people you admire are just people.
Lesson 6: Resist innovating for innovation’s sake.
Lesson 7: Showmanship isn’t necessary.
Lesson 8: When you’re not at your best, be a pro.
Lesson 9: Don’t hunch over your digital devices.
Lesson 10: People will ask you what you do, so have an answer.

Lesson 1: Listen to everyone.

I learned this one from Shakey Graves when he chose to throw a life lesson at the audience to try and improve lives and also to kill time as he re-tuned his guitar between songs.

To paraphrase: Just because someone has beauty, popularity, a suit, a cool job, a microphone, or millions of dollars, doesn’t mean they know any better than you, your partner, your friends, or your family members do.

So listen to everyone, especially yourself and those closest to you.

Thanks, Shakey.

Lesson 2: Get off screens and blink.

One of the most unique products showcased at SXSW was a device that helps relieve dry eye syndrome, a condition that has become more prevalent as we’ve increased the amount of time we spend looking at screens. It seems that when human beings engage with a screen, we blink considerably less than what our eyes need in order to properly lubricate themselves.

While I see this device as a noble product that can help us cope with a modern-day health issue, I also see a simpler alternative: Get off screens.

We’ve survived so much as a species — war, genocide, plagues, earthquakes, tsunamis, and awful television. Are we actually going to depend on technological devices to mitigate the adverse effects of not blinking?

We’re better than this. Let’s get off screens and blink.

Lesson 3: “Disruptor” is not an occupation.

A top contender for Buzzword of the Decade has got to be “disruptor.” I hear “disruptor” used so often in so many different contexts that at this point I don’t know what the word means yet find it hilarious.

It seems I’m not alone.

As part of SXSW, I attended a comedy showcase at Esther’s Follies, where stand-up comedian Jena Friedman delivered my favorite joke of the evening. I won’t share the joke since I didn’t write it; suffice to say that it had to do with “disruptive disruptors” and that even the “disruptors” in the room laughed.

What I will share is the truth in Jena’s joke: “Disruptor” is not an occupation.

Comedian is an occupation, as are professor, operations manager, video editor, speaker, cook, hockey player, and many others. Some of these occupations might end up “disrupting” something, depending on how we choose to define and measure “disruption,” but that doesn’t make “disruptor” an occupation.

Lesson 4: Default to creative work and schedule promotional work.

I learned this one from Ryan Holiday after asking him how he advised reconciling doing focused, creative work and promoting it. His recommendation is simple and effective: Default to creative work and schedule your promotional work.

Whenever you find yourself with some time to work on your creative projects, forget about promotion, and instead focus on doing the actual creative work. Once your creative work is done, then and only then, schedule the emails you’ll send and the posts you’ll share. Once those are done, get back to work.

Trying to be creative and self-promote at the same time will lead to shallow focus, which will hurt the quality of your work, which will make it harder to promote, which will force you to push it even more on others, and so it goes.

A better strategy, in the words of Ryan: “Make it so you don’t have to fake it.”

Lesson 5: The people you admire are just people.

Before I asked Ryan the question that led to Lesson 4, I was nervous. Wow. He’s Ryan Holiday. He introduced me to stoicism. I have to get this question right.

After Ryan answered my question, it hit me. He’s just a guy…

Then I realized something about everyone I admire: They’re all just people!

They’re all just people! They’ve directed their energies toward some admirable and (hopefully) noble pursuits, but they’re still just people, with families, friends, diets, insecurities, loves, and anything else you can think of that makes people people. They still have to brush their teeth, use the restroom, choose which toppings they want on their pizza, and figure life out.

Media might elevate the people you admire to the status of demigods or “people who are better than you,” but that’s an illusion. They might be admirable, but they’re still just people, and as such, they’re not inherently better than anyone, dead or alive, and that includes you, unless you’re neither dead nor alive, in which case we should talk sometime.

Lesson 6: Resist innovating for innovation’s sake.

Without naming any specific examples, there were several digital products showcased at SXSW that struck me as, well…unnecessary.

Do songwriters really need a “disruptive” app to write songs? Do comedians really need a “disruptive” app to edit their jokes? Do we all really need a “disruptive” app that manages another “disruptive” app that makes sure we don’t use certain “disruptive” apps too much?

I don’t think so.

We live in a time where innovation is glorified across all areas of life and we rarely pause and ask why. Why are we innovating? Why?

So resist making something new just because it’s new.

Resist innovating for innovation’s sake.

Lesson 7: Showmanship isn’t necessary.

John Paul White got onstage for his set at NPR’s Tiny Desk Family Hour wearing a well-pressed suit and a Martin acoustic guitar. No fireworks, no backup dancers, and no caged tigers. Only a suit and a guitar.

He was, as far as my ear is concerned, the best performer of the night.

Showmanship is sometimes a helpful tool, but it’s important to remember that it isn’t necessary. Because while showmanship can be effective or gimmicky, depending on how it’s approached, being good at something is undeniable.

Lesson 8: When you’re not at your best, be a pro.

Gina Chávez, also featured during NPR’s Tiny Desk Family Hour, had arrived in Austin from a grueling tour and having to perform deeply emotional songs in an intimate setting. Before playing her first song, she was candid with the audience about not being at her best.

Then, she performed a solid set, start to finish.

It’s okay to not be at your best, and it’s okay to accept it, and even address it (sometimes). But you can be at less than your best and still do what you have to do. That’s what separates professionals from amateurs: Amateurs need to be at their best to be professional, whereas professionals are professional no matter what; they do what they have to do.

So when you’re not at your best, be a pro.

Lesson 9: Don’t hunch over your digital devices.

At SXSW, I met a computer scientist who was struggling with health issues due to years of hunching over his devices. In his words: “It’s not worth it.”

It really isn’t. Be aware of how you’re engaging with your devices. Prioritize using yourself well over using your devices. Take a break and go for a walk. Whatever you have to do. But please, don’t hunch over your digital devices.

Lesson 10: People will ask you what you do, so have an answer.

My first day at SXSW, I met someone from a company that offers employee-training services. I asked him several questions and learned a lot about him and his career. Suddenly, he asked, “What do you do?” to which I replied, after pausing for way too long, “Uh…I’m a student.”

Here’s the thing. I am a student, not only because I’m in graduate school, but because I’m always learning. I truly see myself as a student, so my answer wasn’t a lie. The problem is that I’ve also done and do other things besides being a student, and some of those other things would’ve been far more relevant to bring up at that moment.

You’re not defined by what you do, and it’s unrealistic to expect a single sentence or “elevator pitch” to define all of you. Still, people will ask what it is you do. When that happens, it’s best to have an answer.

BONUS

Lesson 11: Carry a journal.

You’ll learn more, more quickly. Plus, it’s a great tool to capture lessons learned at SXSW 2019 that you can then write into a short article.