Jordan Peterson begins by sharing the origin of 12 Rules for Life. The book started as a list of 12 sayings in response to a question on the website Quora: “What are the most valuable things everyone should know?” While studying 20th-century history, Peterson, a clinical psychologist, had come to believe that life’s meaning has to do with developing one’s character in the face of suffering, not primarily with happiness. After reading lots of myths, sacred texts, and other literature, he identified a “divine Way”—the border between order and chaos—as the path to building character and discovering meaning in life. He offers his 12 rules as the best guide he has to walking that border, hoping that as individuals learn to live well, humanity will collectively flourish, too.
Rule 1 is “Stand up straight with your shoulders back.” In this chapter, Peterson considers lobsters’ behavior as a model for human behavior. Dominant lobsters, who win fights over territory, have different brain chemistry than submissive lobsters: their high serotonin levels prompt them to strut aggressively. Meanwhile, “loser” lobsters, whose serotonin is low, skulk around and startle easily. This dynamic can also be observed in human society. People with low social status tend to have less serotonin and live a more stressed existence; on the other hand, people who feel secure in their status are more confident and prepared for the unexpected. Peterson says that standing up straight with one’s shoulders back can go a long way toward helping someone—even “a loser”—change the way they feel and are regarded in society. Such posture symbolizes a person’s willingness to meet the demands of existence, or Being.
Rule 2 is “Treat yourself like someone you are responsible for helping.” First, Peterson further defines Chaos (unpredictable, unexplored territory) and Order (stable, familiar territory). This duality is deeply embedded in human culture and even in the brain’s structure. Neither too much chaos is good (it can be overwhelming) nor too much order (it can become tyrannical); the ideal is balance between them. Peterson believes that in the Book of Genesis, the serpent in the Garden of Eden represents chaos. After Adam and Eve listen to the snake’s temptation and become “conscious,” they’re aware not just of their own vulnerability to suffering, but of their capacity to inflict suffering—that is, to commit evil. They hide from God in shame, and God expels them from Paradise into the horrors of history. Peterson thinks people carry this ancient sense of shame and awareness of evil with them, and that’s why people act as if they’re not worthy of existence. More than that, though, it’s humanity’s unwillingness to face God—to contribute to the world—that makes them lack self-respect. Yet, time and again, people go to great lengths to help one another, even in the midst of great suffering. Therefore, Peterson says that instead of neglecting ourselves out of self-hatred, we should treat ourselves like those we’re responsible for helping—and that starts with figuring out what’s truly good for us (and, ultimately, for the world at large).
Rule 3 is “Make friends with people who want the best for you.” Peterson reflects on old friends who seemed to get stuck in life, repeatedly seeking out companions who weren’t good for them. While people sometimes do this because they believe they don’t deserve any better, sometimes they do it out of a naïve desire to help the downtrodden. Often, though, it’s more likely that doing this isn’t really helping, but rather enabling bad behavior and possibly dragging a person down to their friends’ level. In cases like this, it’s often more effective to live your own life well and lead by example. And in doing so, it’s healthy, not selfish, to surround yourself with people who will cheer you on and encourage you to be better.
Rule 4 is “Compare yourself to who you were yesterday, not to who someone else is today.” Peterson suggests that instead of fixating on some arbitrary point of comparison to another person’s life, dare to be honest about what you really want. Start by taking stock of your life and focusing on small changes that will make tomorrow better. While this is a big challenge, taking some responsibility for your own happiness (rather than choosing resentment at the world) enables you to gradually aim higher and higher, benefiting yourself and the world.
Rule 5 is “Do not let your children do anything that makes you dislike them.” Peterson contends that modern parents hold a romantic—and unrealistic—view of their children’s innocence. They’re also afraid to make their kids dislike them, so they avoid the hard work of discipline—neglect that’s harmful in the long run. Peterson urges parents to use both positive and negative reinforcement to maintain clear boundaries, which helps kids learn to get along with peers and adults in the outside world, benefiting everyone.
Rule 6 is “Set your house in perfect order before you criticize the world.” Peterson contends that it’s logical to feel outraged about the world. While some people who suffer do end up lashing out at Being itself (such as mass shooters), many others emerge from the experience determined to do good. For example, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s sufferings under communism led to him writing The Gulag Archipelago, which helped undermine Soviet tyranny. Peterson sees the same pattern in the Hebrew Bible’s prophetic books, when Israel responded to suffering by choosing to repent and obey God more faithfully. The only alternatives to soul-searching and behavior change, as Peterson sees it, are resentment and revenge. When suffering threatens to overwhelm you, it’s critical to focus on what you can fix. Otherwise, you risk becoming corrupted by bitterness instead of becoming a force for good in the world.
Rule 7 is “Pursue what is meaningful (not what is expedient).” Peterson returns to the Bible and the concept of sacrifice. Basically, sacrifice is delayed gratification—giving up something valued in the present for the sake of a better future. In Christ’s temptations by Satan, Peterson sees Christ sacrificially refusing to take the easy way out of suffering, forging a path for humanity as a whole to reject evil. As he wrestled with doubts about life’s meaning, Peterson concluded that “suffering” was the one thing he couldn’t doubt, and that this evil must have an opposite good (that is, whatever stops evil from happening). This formed the basis of Peterson’s moral beliefs. If a person lives to pursue good, they’ll find more and more meaning revealed over time. While this meaning isn’t identical to happiness, it achieves balance between order and chaos and provides an antidote to suffering. So, seek to do what’s meaningful—even if that means sacrificing what’s expedient.
Rule 8 is “Tell the truth—or, at least, don’t lie.” In his clinical practice, Peterson saw that people choose to lie when they’re fixated on an “ill-formed desire” (either a goal or an ideology) and will do or say anything to get it. The problem with living this way is that it assumes you already know everything you need to know about the future. When a person lives with this kind of blindness for long enough, sometimes they have to sacrifice their entire value system in order to live more authentically. When a person pridefully refuses to do this, they often conclude that the world itself is unfair and end up brutalizing others as a result. Taken to an extreme, lies produce totalitarianism. So, it’s crucial to be willing to learn from what you don’t know, face reality truthfully, and pursue the good, even when that entails uncertainty or conflict.
Rule 9 is “Assume that the person you are listening to might know something you don’t.” Peterson learned that it’s often most effective to just listen to his patients talk—it gives them a chance to organize their thoughts, which is often easier with a dialogue partner. A conversation partner can also help you distill your memories into a “moral of the story,” which is the whole point of memory. Peterson says such “mutual exploration” is the highest form of conversation, which takes place on the border between order and chaos and demands that you assume your interlocutors have something new to teach you.
Rule 10 is “Be precise in your speech.” Peterson notes that we usually live with a simplified version of reality. It works fine when life is going well, but when chaos erupts, it seems like your narrow vision has failed you. Sometimes chaos takes the form of a “dragon” of pent-up conflict that refuses to be ignored. If you specify a problem instead of ignoring it, you can make it solvable. Though facing conflict brings pain, the alternative is drifting through life in a fog and never fixing anything, which is destructive for relationships. Precise speech helps make chaos resolve into order.
Rule 11 is “Do not bother children when they are skateboarding.” Looking at growing success gaps between men and women, Peterson argues that while oppressive patriarchy must be criticized, differences between men and women should be respected, too. In recent decades, philosophers like Derrida have begun to construe distinctions, even biological differences, primarily in terms of power—which is too simplistic. When society implements such theories by, for example, trying to socialize daredevil boys to adopt traditionally “feminine” behaviors instead, things tend to backfire. Healthy, strong women want and deserve mature men as partners. So, adults shouldn’t suppress boundary-pushing behavior in children, especially boys.
The final rule, Rule 12, is “Pet a cat when you encounter one on the street.” Peterson recalls his daughter Mikhaila’s terrible struggle with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. Watching her pain, he eventually concluded that thinking about suffering can’t solve it; rather, noticing is the key. The first thing to notice is that you love people because of their limitations, not apart from them—without limits, they wouldn’t be themselves. Yet limitation inevitably brings suffering with it. Peterson suggests that the only way to cope with suffering is to find the courage to believe that the wonder of Being might actually outweigh its horror—something Mikhaila taught him how to do. Taking a moment to pet a cat (or a dog!) is an example of the kind of small, momentary wonder you can find if you just pay attention.
