5 min read

Knowing Is Not Growing

We live in an era of instant knowledge and shallow change. Alessandro Baricco warned us: depth is being replaced by surface. Jordan Peterson reminds us: responsibility, not intellect, drives transformation.
Knowing Is Not Growing

Baricco, Peterson, Jocko and the Price of Real Progress

We live in an era of instant knowledge and shallow change.
Alessandro Baricco warned us: depth is being replaced by surface.
Jordan Peterson reminds us: responsibility, not intellect, drives transformation.
Jocko Willink simply says: "Good."

Because knowing is not growing. And growth hurts.

1. Baricco’s New Barbarians: Fast but Hollow

In The Barbarians, Alessandro Baricco explores a mutation in our cultural DNA. People no longer descend into depth. They surf across surface.
What matters is not meaning, but momentum.
Not transformation, but movement.

The Barbarian does not lack intelligence. The Barbarian moves quickly. But with speed comes loss of memory, of struggle, and of the very mechanisms that support real growth.

Baricco also questions the environment that sustains this behaviour. The internet, in his view, has become a cheap and frictionless terrain, a place where information no longer ascends towards understanding but loops endlessly within itself. Each insight is reduced to a signal, then chained to the next, until the sequence devours its own tail. Nothing settles. Nothing transforms. Everything moves.

The Barbarian knows more than ever, and the Barbarian becomes less.

Baricco does not condemn the Barbarians as evil or ignorant. They are simply adapted to a different logic. But that logic, favouring flow over foundation, demands that we respond consciously. If we do not want to be reshaped by speed, we must rediscover the value of intentional depth in a world that rewards only motion.

2. The Illusion of Mastery

We often convince ourselves we are evolving because we have read a book, attended a course, or watched a video.
We confuse awareness with embodiment.
We say: "I already know that."

This is the terrain of the Dunning–Kruger effect, where limited knowledge fuels disproportionate confidence. Examples are limitless: pseudo-engineer who claims expertise after a three-week bootcamp, designers who believe they are steering architectural directions, teams who deploy to production without resilience, redundancy, or disaster recovery.

But has it shaped your behaviour? Has it influenced your decisions or redesigned your routines?

Growth begins not with knowing, but with integration. Until that point, knowledge remains an unused tool.

3. Peterson’s Echo: Bear the Responsibility

Jordan B. Peterson does not romanticise growth.
He demands it.
One does not simply think better. One carries more.

Growth requires acceptance of chaos. It demands the construction of order. It insists on responsibility for one's own patterns, pain, and potential. It does not serve the pursuit of happiness as an end goal.

In fact, Peterson makes it clear: we are not here to be happy. We are here to grow. And growth, more often than not, comes with pain.

Truth, in Peterson’s view, requires work. It does not decorate. It shapes. It also reshapes the individual, not just in their inner discipline, but in how they relate to others. This philosophy brings practical outcomes: humility (start by cleaning your own house), the duty to lift others up, and the discipline to choose your circle carefully. Growth is rarely solitary. It requires effort, environment, and the right people around you, those who challenge you, sharpen you, and help you rise.

Peterson also urges people to step into difficulty before life forces their hand. Meaning does not arrive through passive endurance. It emerges through chosen confrontation, when one voluntarily picks up a weight worth bearing.

4. The Seduction of Signals

Modern culture rewards the appearance of wisdom:

  • Quoting philosophy without application
  • Promoting craftsmanship without repetition
  • Posting values without alignment

We have become fluent in signals. But performance is not pattern. And understanding without embodiment solves nothing.

5. "Good." The Jocko’s Response to Pain

If Baricco diagnoses the mutation, and Peterson offers the philosophical weight, then Jocko Willink gives us the field answer. His posture, calm under chaos, humble under pressure, disciplined under fire, is not abstract. It is daily, visible, and brutal.

His one-word mantra, “Good,” is not optimism. It is orientation. The moment pain hits, growth begins, if you lean in. Willink’s view does not wait for theory. It trains in contact. It executes. And over time, it builds something that knowledge alone never could: resilience that compounds.
When things fall apart like a failed launch, a missed opportunity, a personal setback, Jocko Willink responds with one word: "Good."

Not because it is easy. Because it is real.

Pain becomes information. Failure offers perspective. Constraints sharpen focus.

You did not receive the promotion? Good, now train harder.
The system failed? Good, now build better.
You made a mistake? Good, now take ownership.

The path to growth runs directly through difficulty. One must walk it.

6. The Practice: Beyond Knowing

The real challenge is not acquiring insight. It is becoming someone who moves differently because of it.

That requires:

  • Repetition over novelty
  • Reflection over reaction
  • Discipline over declaration

Ask:

  • What am I resisting because it feels uncomfortable?
  • Where do my actions contradict my declared values?
  • Which hard lesson am I avoiding while pretending I have learned it?

Then face it. Consistently.

What begins as a list of prompts soon becomes a creed. These are not tips. They are patterns of attention and repetition. This is how craftsmanship starts: not as a title, but as a posture. One that embraces ownership, applies discipline, and refines judgement through contact with reality. Peterson’s philosophy, Jocko’s mindset, and the daily questions we ask ourselves, together they form a manifesto. Not of performance, but of practice.

7. Noise, Confidence, and Collapse

In information theory (C. Shannon), the rarest signal is the one that carries the most meaning. True information surprises. It changes the system. But modern environments, from digital media to corporate dashboards, reverse that principle. They reward volume over rarity, signal over surprise, momentum over insight.

This supports Baricco’s concern: information no longer deepens. It loops. It performs. It anaesthetises.
Taïeb warns of a similar danger, that an excess of improperly framed data does not make us safer. It makes us feel safe. It builds the illusion of predictability while eroding readiness for real disruption.

Combine that with the Dunning–Kruger effect, and you get a dangerous recipe: systems full of confident actors, drowning in data, underprepared for catastrophe. From national governments to engineering teams, the result is the same: collapse driven not by ignorance, but by overconfidence built on noise.

When we stop filtering for meaning, we stop preparing for reality.

8. What Growth Actually Means

Growth is not progress in a straight line. It is not comfort. It is not applause. Growth is stumbling, retracing steps, and walking through resistance until something reshapes inside.

It means taking risks, deliberate ones, that carry the possibility of failure. It means choosing to stretch when contraction would be easier. Growth often shows up as discomfort before it manifests as capability.

True growth is antifragile. It does not merely survive shocks. It adapts, absorbs, and improves. Systems grow when they integrate feedback. People grow when they fall, reflect, and rise, not because they were told to, but because they chose to try again.

The cost is pain. The reward is transformation.

Conclusion: Grow Anyway

Baricco warns of speed without depth.
Peterson calls for structure and meaning through responsibility.
Jocko offers a simple word for the pain that growth demands.

So next time discomfort rises, say it: Good.

Not because it feels good. But because it means you are not just knowing.
You are growing.