12 Rules for Life: Coda Summary & Analysis

In late 2016, Peterson visited a friend in Northern California and admired the friend’s LED-illuminated pen. Later, he started thinking metaphorically about this “pen of light.” When the friend later gifted him the pen, Peterson asked himself, “What shall I do with my newfound pen of light?” He thought about Christ’s promise in the Gospel of Matthew that the one who asks will receive. He doesn’t believe this means that God will dispense whatever we want. After all, prayers often go unanswered. Peterson wonders if this is because prayers are often framed wrongly. In a desperate moment, maybe it’s better to ask for the strength to persevere in that moment—that is, to see the truth.

Peterson and his wife have had many disagreements over the years. Instead of letting a fight escalate, they would go to separate rooms and ask themselves what they’d done to contribute to the argument. To ask yourself a question like that, you must truly want the answer, because you’re not going to like it. The answer will require you to figure out how to improve and then follow through, which is hard. But at that point, you have to decide if it’s more important to you to be right or to pursue peace. Doing the latter requires you to want the answer more than you want to be right. That’s abiding by Rule 2.

In that spirit, Peterson asked himself what to do with his pen of light. He tried to be honest with himself, in the spirit of Rule 9. And, in fact, an answer did come to mind: “Write down the words you want inscribed on your soul.” Inspired by this, he tried to think of the hardest questions he could, like “What shall I do tomorrow?” and “What shall I do next year?” He culminated with “What shall I do with my life?” And the answer was, “Aim for Paradise, and concentrate on today.” This answer lines up with Rule 4, to orient oneself properly and then focus on the day at hand.

Peterson went on to pose questions about his relationships with others. He wrote that he wants to “honour [his] wife as a Mother of God,” that is, to respect the sacred aspect of her maternal role—a role that society needs to survive. He also determined to “act to justify the suffering of [his] parents,” to honor the sacrifices made by all who’ve gone before and live with gratitude in response. He went on to pose questions about how to treat strangers (with brotherly hospitality), how to deal with a fallen soul (to offer a helping hand, without getting pulled into the muck, as per Rule 3), and what to do with the world (live as though Being is more valuable than Non-Being)—the essence of Rule 1.

He also considered how to educate people—to share with them what he deems most important (Rule 8). This ties into what to do with a fractured nation—to speak truth to it. The latter has become more critical as people have become more polarized. To avoid further catastrophe, we need to speak truthfully to one another, not just argue for ideologies or try to advance our ambitions.

The next few question and answers focused on ingratitude, like what to do when you despise what you have (remember those who have nothing and be grateful). Taking stock of what’s in front of you, petting a cat, and setting your house in order could all apply here. An unexpected question was “What shall I do when I ruin my rivers?” The answer was, “Seek for the living water and let it cleanse the Earth.” It could be, Peterson suggests, that once people have set themselves in order first, they’ll become better stewards of the environment.

Peterson then posed a bunch of questions about crisis and exhaustion, like how to deal with an enemy’s success (“aim a little higher and be grateful for the lesson”), how to cope with aging, how to deal with a loved one’s death (strive to be the person at the funeral that everyone can lean on—it’s better than wishing for a trouble-free life). And because “the flood is always coming,” you should respond to any dire moment by focusing your attention on “the next right move.”

He also wrote down some questions about character development, like “What shall I say to a faithless brother? The King of the Damned is a poor judge of Being.” By this, he refers to Rule 6—that you must first fix yourself before seeking to address the world. After all, your weaknesses keep you from thriving and also limit your benefit to the larger world. To build yourself up, don’t tell lies or do what you hate. Don’t shirk difficult questions. And, when before a crowd, “stand tall and utter my broken truths.”

Peterson hasn’t written anything with his Pen of Light since then, but it helped him find a way to close his book. He hopes this book has been helpful to the reader and wishes the reader the best, finally asking, “What will you write with your pen of light?”