The Second Mountain summary

With its promise of almost unlimited personal freedom, individualism might sound like a rather appealing vision of life. But when it becomes the dominant philosophy of an entire society, it can lead to many problems.

That’s because the more we focus on ourselves, the less we focus on each other and on the tasks of building, maintaining and deepening our social connections. For a case in point, just look at contemporary United States, where social connections are fraying as a result of rampant individualism. Some sobering statistics bear this out. Over the course of an entire year, only 8 percent of Americans report having a meaningful conversation with their neighbors. Chronic loneliness plagues 35 percent of Americans aged 45 or older. And the fastest-growing political and religious groups in the US are “unaffiliated,” which means these people are disconnected from any community in two of the main areas of social life.

Imagine you’re a young adult living in the individualistic United States, and you’re about to begin your pursuit of the American Dream. You just graduated from an excellent university with a marketable degree, so you’re well-equipped to succeed. The only thing left to do is to answer that dreaded question: Now what?

It’s a hard question to answer. Remember all of that personal freedom that individualism promised you? Well, you don’t really get to enjoy it until you finish your education. Up until that point, you spend most of your time attending school, or doing school-related activities such as sports or homework. There are rigid schedules and rules to follow. Your teachers set out clear expectations for you, and your grades tell you how you’re measuring up to them. And you know that if you get good grades, you’ll be able to get into a good university. There’s a clear path to follow.  

Put on some hiking boots and bring some rope because we’re about to climb up to the highest reaches of the first mountain.

Let’s start with the best-case scenario: reaching the summit. Imagine you’ve made it. You’ve ascended to the top of your career ladder. You’re a highly respected professional in a highly respected field. There’s just one problem: you still don’t feel a sense of fulfillment. You feel like something is missing from your life. What is it?

Remember that enticing promise of individualism – that it will grant you almost unlimited freedom if you adopt it as a philosophy of life? Well, here’s a question to ask before you sign the contract: What’s the point of having so much personal liberty in the first place? Sure, you get the freedom to do whatever you want, as long as it doesn’t harm other people – but what exactly do you want?

Well, from the standpoint of individualism, the precise answer to that question depends on the individual’s personality. For one person, it could be a life of adventure. For another, it could be fame. But there’s a general desire that underlies most answers: in one way or another, we all just want to be happy.

Giving up on the pursuit of happiness so you can devote your life to the service of others is a pretty noble proposition. But it’s also a pretty unappealing one for most of us. Sure, happiness is fleeting, but it feels really good while it lasts. A life of service, in contrast, sounds like a difficult affair.

Before you begin climbing the second mountain, it would therefore be reasonable to ask: What’s in it for me? Are there any benefits, besides moral brownie points?

A life of lasting joy is a life of service – and a life of service is a life of overflowing love. But if that sounds like everyone should just join hands, gather around a campfire and sing “Kumbaya,” well, put that image aside because that’s not what a life of loving service is all about.

There’s some serious work to be done in climbing the second mountain. From poverty and homelessness to drug addiction and chronic loneliness, there are myriad problems to be solved in the world around us. And whether it’s maintaining deep, healthy and loving relationships with our friends, family or romantic partners, there are many additional problems to be solved in our personal lives as well, such as working through communication issues and finding the time for others in today’s hectic world. If you believe in a monotheistic religion, you’ve also got another problem on your plate: living a life of service to others while simultaneously living a life of service to God and your religious community. No pressure, then!

If you want to climb the second mountain and live a joyful life of service to others, love is a fantastic and necessary place to start. But it’s just that: a place to start. By itself, love leads to short-lived acts of kindness and generosity. To turn it into something that’s longer-lasting and more impactful as a result, you need to build a structure of behavior around it.

That means making a commitment to the service of other people by adopting a set of rituals, protocols and agreements, which are designed to ensure that you continue to treat people in a loving manner even when your feelings of love flicker and fade. The most obvious example of this is the commitment you make when you enter a marriage.

When you live a life of service, you don’t just have a job, which is work you do primarily for money or status. Instead, you have a vocation – work you do primarily out of passion.

Finding a vocation follows a similar pattern to getting married. First, you fall in love with an activity, a field or a cause. It could be writing, biology or campaign finance reform. Motivated by this love, you want to become a writer, a biologist or a political activist. Then you take a “vow” to pursue your vocation: you declare your major at a university, or you commit to a particular graduate school or vocational training program.

For many people, religion is the most important domain in which they feel called to a life of commitment and service. Focusing on the Judaism and Christianity that shaped his upbringing, the author contends that religion provides its adherents with a number of benefits when it comes to living such a life.

One of them is ritual. Remember, commitment is all about taking your love for someone or something and then building a structure of behavior around it: a set of protocols and practices which ensure that you act on your love in a consistent manner, even if your love flickers. And that’s precisely what religious rituals are all about.

We began these blinks by looking at how communities are falling apart in the contemporary United States. This last blink is all about how they can be put back together – and how you can live a joyful life of service by being part of that rebuilding process, whether it’s in the US or in other countries facing similar issues.

If you’re interested in playing such a role, then you’re in luck: your society needs you. The keys to rebuilding our crumbling communities lie in the hands of the people who have committed themselves to a community-centered life of service. The author calls these people weavers, in reference to the idea that they weave the members of broken or not-yet-existing communities together.