It’s a familiar question to many podcasters, but this ask often strikes a particularly vulnerable chord in our comparative and competitive culture. Implied within it is a number worth caring about, a baseline of significance. Unfortunately, this is a belief we typically level at our fellow human beings.

In the many decades since the advent of television, TV shows have prompted all sorts of commentary and critique. Some audiences rave over shows that others never quite get into. Parents perpetually worry about their children’s TV consumption and generational, once-in-a-lifetime events glue many to the silver screen. But, perhaps because of their relative recency in human history, TV shows are rarely discussed or lauded to the same degree as literature, cinema and other narrative forms. How do we juxtapose our private consumption with our public dismissal? What thoughts and feelings do TV shows elicit in us as viewers? How is television a unique medium for stories and other communication?

This week, we return to "Between These Eyes of Ink," a series which dissects and considers quotations and the insights they contain. For our seventh episode, we welcome Sam Whipple to help explore the idea that “Maturity: the confidence to have no opinions on many things”. What are the implications of this idea in a modern, highly-opinionated world? What is the difference between having opinions and sharing them? Can we engage without opinion?

In spite of the unexpected shifts in recent years, this week nonetheless marks the seventh anniversary of the podcast. It’s a strange time but also quite hopeful. While this is formally Kathleen’s final episode as a co-host, I remain optimistic about how future conversations will further illuminate our grand map of what it means to be a human being. My thanks to those who provide the space, compassion and curiosity to listen. It is a real honor to produce this show for you and I look forward to bringing you more thought-provoking and introspective conversations.Yours, in shared humanity, Kip

When tragedy befalls us or our communities, we’re rarely equipped to handle the sorrow, confusion or emotional gravity of the circumstances. In the modern era, this difficulty meeting the most agonizing moments has been illuminated by the utterances of “thoughts and prayers”. Often in response to great losses and acts of violence, the phrase has come to seem hollow and politically-polarized to many. Are there words that can properly carry the appropriate emotions attendant to these circumstances? For those that say so with sincerity, are there other, more convincing words they could say? Do some use these words in lieu of action?

What impact does birth order have on your personality, your life and your abilities? According to some, a great deal. In particular, middle children of history are regarded for their innovation, their shrewd diplomacy and their creativity. But with changing attitudes and preferences in America, families are having fewer children and this demographic is going extinct. This is described in an article from The Cut, which we discuss this week. What could be the long-term impact on our society? Are their skills and experiences endemic to the existence of middle-children from which we all benefit?

Making sense of our world is a profoundly human experience. Some default to artistic pursuits while others take up fulfilling hobbies and yet others still defer to the sciences. When it comes to data, however, those of us without solid understanding can be easily misled or confused. This issue was the subject of an article from Aeon, which we discuss this week with Leland Holcomb. How does the confident certainty of numbers allow for misunderstanding? How are larger figures used to distort our perception of scale?

Six years ago today, in a radically different world needing very much the same things, Hector and I embarked on a discursive journey to explore the human experience and our relationship(s) to it. Though I write this in a challenging moment, I’m optimistic about learning to be done and am grateful to have made the journey with Hector, Caroline, Kathleen and so many others. My sincere gratitude to those who listen, especially in these inconsistent times. I remain of the conviction that this show will continue to improve as its voices and listeners do and I’m humbled to hold such a rewarding relationship with so many. Love, Kip

In a period where so much has slowed down or ground to a halt, previous definitions and metrics feel strange and irrelevant. Beyond the application of our past perspectives, it seems only natural to conclude that where there was once something, so radical a series of losses must leave nothing. Where there once was someone, doing a series of tasks and pursuing a variety of lives, there must now be no one. This is, however tempting the thought, not the truth - which is something far more encouraging.

How would we each respond to a call for help? Some might say they’d leap to the aid of their fellow person, while others would request more information about the hypothetical. In the era of the internet, given vast distances and anonymity, these circumstances are more complicated than ever before. And over the 2019 holiday season, and elder woman named Carrie from Tulsa, Oklahoma learned precisely how blunt the response can be. Lonely and seeking a family to share the spirit of the season with, her Craigslist ad was primarily met with hostility, suspicion and ridicule. How should we evaluate our social norms and dynamics given the prevalence of vehemence here? What can we learn about the sensitive dynamic between compassion and caution? What might this event indicate about an increasingly digital world?