If you know me at all, this is going to surprise you: I really struggle with liking super-hero, sci-fi, and fantasy movies. Most of them are supremely disappointing -- the authors cheat. And I am somewhat relieved to discover that I'm not the only one who can be discouraged by this, too.
Jordan Peterson points to the Superman franchise as an excellent example: Superman kept developing more and more superpowers until he was, essentially, an immortal being; then he got boring. In reboots, limitations started to be introduced -- kyrptonite, for example. And he regained his appeal. And then, well… Spider-Man cheated.
The "cheat" that many authors are guilty of is creating a framework—rules of the game, so to speak—only to break them when it’s convenient for the hero (or the author). You’ve seen it before and might recognize the sources:
There are plenty more. But the point is this: limitations make the characters and stories compelling.
Superman without limits is forgettable. But the same applies to us—without limitations, we wouldn’t be interesting, or even human. If I were invincible, all-knowing, and incapable of failure, I’d likely be pretty insufferable. Worse, I’d have no real reason to connect with others, learn new things, or even care about challenges.
But limitations also mean that struggle is inevitable. I will get hurt. I can be vulnerable. I will make mistakes. I may not know enough to succeed. I might get tired and give up. I might not be loved, or even liked.
This is where Jordan Peterson’s Rule 12: Pet a Cat When You Encounter One on the Street offers insight. Peterson encourages us to embrace small moments of joy in the midst of life’s suffering. His reflections, rich with metaphor and personal experience, highlight how adversity shapes us—and how brief respites can bring relief and meaning in even the toughest times.
There’s a lot of depth in this rule, but as I reflected on it, I realized its application depends on context: work life and social life. Struggles at home have very different implications than struggles at work. Some limitations are tolerated (or even embraced) in one context but are unacceptable in the other—and vice versa. This tension led me to dig deeper.
Peterson talks about suffering in an existential sense, but for this discussion, I’m going to use words like struggles and challenges. Not every challenge is life-or-death, but they can still be deeply meaningful—or, as the saying goes, "death by a thousand papercuts" -- it is still painful!
Work Life: Relationships Support Objectives
Work revolves around objectives. Relationships matter, but they are built in service of those objectives. Struggles at work arise when there’s a mismatch between:
Over time, these mismatches may resolve—or they may not. When they persist:
These moments can be painful, and while they are personally impacting, they aren't character attacks—they’re about aligning team goals with individual capabilities. And yet, in positive work environments, people often describe their teams as “like family.” It’s a well-intended sentiment, but it can create false expectations.
Work can never be family. No matter how much we care about each other, our relationships in the workplace are conditional. People leave companies. People get let go. That is not the design of family. (Children are generally expected to leave the house, but not the family.)
This is where Radical Candor comes in. It offers a way to care deeply while also challenging directly. A great team balances honesty and support—not because they are family, but because clear, candid feedback helps people grow and in ways that lean into objectives...and seeing growth and productivity feels exhilarating! A high-functioning team may feel like family, but it succeeds because of mutual trust, accountability, and shared goals—not unconditional love.
Social Life: Objectives Support Relationships
In contrast, social life is relationship-first. The struggles we face in our personal lives aren’t about meeting objectives; they’re about connection, trust, and belonging. We will have specific goals and objectives, but every person can have their own, framed in the context of relationships. This is inverted at work, where our relationships are framed in the context of specific goals and objectives.
When conflicts arise in personal relationships, they aren’t solved with performance reviews or performance improvement plans (PIPs). Instead, they require:
Sometimes, that means distancing ourselves from harmful influences—helping a teenager avoid toxic friendships, for example. Other times, it means sticking with someone through their struggles, even when their limitations make things difficult. Marriage vows, for example, don't exist without reason!
But there’s a key tension: relationships in social life still have objectives. In the same way that work relationships need to support business goals, social relationships need to help us grow as people.
This is another place where Radical Candor applies. It’s possible—and necessary—to care deeply for people in our personal lives while also holding them to a standard. Real friendships, strong marriages, and healthy families all require both support and honest feedback.
The difference is this:
"Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional."
It’s a clever play on words, but it gets at something real. Suffering, or not, isn’t about what happens to us—it’s about how we respond to the pain.
Of course, if we’re being precise about definitions in this discussion, we could rephrase it as:
"Struggling is inevitable; existential despair is optional."
…But that doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.
Regardless, the idea holds: struggles are unavoidable. But whether they feel like suffering depends on where they happen and how we respond.
At work, struggles require a solution-focused mindset—because the priority is achieving objectives.
In social life, struggles require empathy and adaptability—because the priority is maintaining relationships.
By keeping these distinctions clear, we can better navigate both spheres. As Peterson reminds us, acknowledging our limitations—and the ways they shape our lives—is key. Just as we might pause to "pet a cat" in the middle of a tough day, we can also take a moment to reflect on what truly matters in each context.
Work is not family, and social life is not a workplace—and that’s not only okay, it’s necessary. Keeping their boundaries clear allows us to appreciate the unique beauty, meaning, and rewards they bring to our lives.
We don’t want Superman to be all-powerful. We don’t want Spider-Man to cheat. What makes a story compelling is its constraints. The same is true for our lives—our limitations shape and define us.
When we respect the limitations of work and social life, we can build stronger teams, deeper relationships, and a have greater appreciation for the moments of joy along the way.