Chris Williamson: If You Don't Fix This Now, 2026 Is Already Over!

Lighten up. None of us gets out alive, and in a few generations no one remembers our names. Use this quiet stretch between Christmas and New Year to dream big, set real goals, and avoid climbing a giant ladder that’s leaning on the wrong wall. I’m not the hustle-till-your-eyes-bleed guy; suppression isn’t strength. Feeling your emotions is part of being a good man, and this year taught me that the hard way.

Thank you for listening and for sticking with us. If you enjoy this, hit follow—I’m going to keep pushing to make this show better. Now, everyone’s thinking resolutions, but most quit fast. Does this time of year actually help with change?

Two camps exist. Some say start any day; others like a cultural reset. There’s no magic in January first, but life slows down and you’re already ruminating, so use it as a structured check‑in for reflection and planning.

What should we aim at without overwhelming ourselves?

You can change anything, not everything. Ask, what would need to happen by the end of 2026 for me to look back and call it a success? Then assume your capacity won’t expand. To pick something up, put something down, because motivation is a wobbly fuel.

So we need addition and subtraction to net out. What else should we ask?

Run uncomfortable prompts. How would I make 85‑year‑old me miserable? If my life were a movie, what would the audience be yelling at me to do? Those answers are usually obvious—leave, switch, start, stop.

Your answers?

More time thinking and making, less admin. More time with friends, less scrolling, maybe even fewer training sessions to create space. And the audience would say I’m already doing enough—stop whipping myself and stop deferring life until after the next achievement. Problems don’t go away, so start living now.

We’re wired to strive, which built civilization but also keeps us restless. Is an annual review the antidote?

Urgent tasks crowd out the important. A yearly review lets the important speak. Each year’s a chapter; decide what you want this one to be.

If you could change your inner code for happiness, what would you change?

Less striving. External wins don’t heal internal holes, and that’s an unteachable lesson. It’s often easier to get the car than to remove the craving for it.

Did success fix your own void?

No. I never expected this, but the lesson hit me in the face. Money won’t fix self‑worth; call your parents; it’s okay to take a day off.

Downside of striving for you?

A felt sense of not‑enoughness and a life kept on hold. When in doubt, return to the movie‑audience test as a compass.

How do we define success without borrowing someone else’s?

It’s personal—don’t wear another person’s purpose. Sit in silence and listen; the answers you want hide in the quiet you avoid. And yes, shower thoughts are overrated, toilet thoughts underrated.

You draw a line between visible and hidden metrics of success.

We trade unseen joys for things others can see—title, salary, house, car. A longer commute or a high‑stress role can cost presence, peace, health, and relationships. Be honest about the trade‑offs.

Share the Mexican fisherman story.

The businessman maps a giant plan—more boats, a factory, an exit—to end up doing what the fisherman already does today: fish in the morning and be with family. You often must go all the way up the mountain to learn the treasure was in your backyard.

Knowing what you know now, I’d tell my younger self to say no more. Focus compounds.

Great advice—and probably still what you need now. Our patterns rhyme across life. Mine: work less, take a real day off, phone down, go outside. The best habits I’ve kept came from intentional reviews, so I use a template that captures wins, lessons, memories, and a plan for who I need to become.

What high‑ROI resolutions do you cherish?

I want listeners to post their best high‑ROI resolution in the comments. I’ll start: no phone in the bedroom. Use an alarm clock. It boosts sleep and gives you a calm start instead of getting smacked by the world. Add a short morning walk, delay caffeine, use electrolytes, and try six months alcohol‑free to audit your social life and your habits.

When I A/B tested alcohol, a couple of glasses wrecked my sleep, food choices, workouts, and work for days. The hidden costs shocked me.

Many can’t build habits because the blocker sits at the bottom of the wine glass. Set a real finish line—at least ninety days—get an accountability buddy, and notice how much you don’t want to go back.

Aim at the first domino. Sleep and exercise lubricate everything. My best shift was changing from “gym every day” to “be consistent.”

Use the rule: never miss two days in a row. Expect slip‑ups and have a re‑entry plan. Another big win is a ten‑minute walk after meals—it flattens the glucose spike and helps digestion.

People feel unproductive and guilty. How do you think about productivity?

Productivity dysmorphia is real. You whip yourself, wake up feeling behind, and even a perfect day only gets you to neutral. Many here are already working hard. Each morning ask, if I could only do one thing today, what would it be? We avoid a few days of sharp pain and accept years of dull misery.

Why do we procrastinate?

Usually two reasons. You don’t know the next physical action, or you know it but lack the skill. Define the tiniest next step, then learn what you need—search, ask, or get help. Start embarrassingly small.

Some avoid trying to dodge what they might learn about themselves.

Not trying spares you the pain of failure, and cynicism masquerades as realism. I love American enthusiasm. It stung to see a British piece sneer at three Brits in Spotify’s global top ten for self‑improvement. Tall‑poppy culture holds people back.

UK listeners, clap for triers. Be proud of underdog wins.

We slid in before the podcast boom. In the States, people root for you in case you take them along; in Britain’s worst moments, they fear you’ll leave them behind. Builders in the UK face extra gravity, but your tribe exists.

Is the UK really doomed compared to the US?

I won’t pile on, but I wish risk was celebrated more. We match top universities yet produce far fewer entrepreneurs. The press reaction showed the script.

Confidence versus skill?

Belief is optional—show up anyway. Generate evidence with stubborn consistency. Write five hundred words a week for a year and you’re a writer.

I had no belief, but I had no choice.

That’s region beta. Being kind of fine traps you; worse can be better because it forces action. Don’t tank your life on purpose, but notice when the pain threshold finally pushes you.

I’ve picked uncertain growth over certain misery—left uni after a day, quit my company before an IPO. Obama said he decides at around fifty‑one percent certainty; that threshold shapes your life.

Too many options fuel regret and paralysis. Satisficing beats endless maximizing when the menu is infinite.

Use Bezos’s door test. If you can reverse it, go try. If you’re wrong, you can go back.

If you’re winning at a job you dislike, imagine how you’d perform at one you loved.

What thoughts looped too often this year and caused harm?

Those loops point to a talk you’re avoiding or a feeling you won’t face. Ask what emotions you refuse to feel. And use the 85‑year‑old frame: what would he beg you to do more of, especially with your body and health?

For me, future me will be furious if I don’t protect my body now.

Exactly. Quick stress truths: problems are permanent, most worries fade fast, growth lives at the edge, and hard seasons seed your best changes. My own loop is working too much and wanting more space for family—maybe even a dog.

Why do so many big male podcasters not have kids?

I matured late. I spent my twenties figuring myself out.

I’ve always wanted kids but I’m not set up for it. I still believe responsibility will expand meaning and I’ll adapt, even though the day‑to‑day freedom feels great while my long‑view self wants deeper responsibility.

You may never feel ready to have kids, and that might be the point.

We talk about falling birth rates and how more freedom, choice, and a me‑first culture pull us away from family; I don’t even feel a strong urge yet, but I’m still aiming to become a dad soon because I trust the upside even if it’s hard to see from here.

Delays come from reliable contraception, endless life options, and women’s education and careers pushing timelines; the shared window when two people want kids at the same time got flatter and later, while anti‑family memes spread, and culture models matter—South Korea’s K‑pop celibacy nudges away from relationships, while Georgia’s star pastor baptizing third children nudged births up.

Given our audiences, I think about what we model as men; do you think about the kind of man you’re showing people to be?

I’m no saint, but I’ve tried to become someone I’d be proud to be friends with—showing emotions on stage, valuing mindfulness and training, and staying away from the grind‑at‑all‑costs pose; the big move I keep circling is starting a family, and a couple of years ago that stopped scaring me.

Quiet time revealed that chasing every shiny path wasn’t the answer; growing up shifted me from seeing kids as a burden to feeling a pull, and resisting that change created more suffering than accepting it.

You mentioned the lonely chapter—what is it?

It’s the stretch where you’ve outgrown your old crowd but haven’t found your new one, so your growth makes you an easy target and more alone; most origin stories skip the doubt, but real change is soaked in uncertainty, so do it anyway—tired, unsure, and without a role model.

Bezos wrote about resisting equilibrium; staying atypical takes energy, so if you plan a big reinvention, free up bandwidth elsewhere or the environment will pull you back to average.

Problems aren’t glitches—they’re the game; think rocket fuel at takeoff, use whatever gets you moving, then switch to cleaner motives once you’ve cleared the thickest air.

So for New Year change, we have to cut; how many big things can we actually do?

You can probably nail one or two big wins in a year—rank them, kill the rest, and set simple enabling steps that conserve energy for what matters.

If someone’s resolution is to find love, you said look for psychological stability—what do you mean?

After an emotional hit, notice how fast they return to baseline; add moderate agreeableness and openness, and aim for a relationship that feels like a safe harbor, not a roller coaster.

If you were thirty, single, unknown, and wanted to solve love, where would you start?

First ask if you’re the kind of person your ideal partner would want—fix the obvious stuff like your wardrobe and fitness, then go where those people actually spend time and play to your strengths; for women, clearer receptiveness helps, and if a man shoots his shot and he’s not for you, let him down with kindness so he tries again for the next woman.

What else matters right now for strivers?

Life ends for all of us, so don’t defer joy; Type A folks often need to learn to rest, and while hustle matters, there’s no daily productivity quota to be a worthy human.

Are you religious? I feel our shift to extreme independence is making us lonely and sick.

I’m not, but belonging matters; having an existential crisis is a strange luxury, and our brains repurpose ancient fear for modern stakes, so honor your emotions without stacking shame on top—start with gritty fuel if you must, then evolve toward self‑respect.

Can you think out loud—are you happy?

I have to work at being in a good mood; a brutal year with mold illness wrecked energy, mood, and focus, so my only goals were to keep the show going and fix my health, and uncertainty made happiness hard, but I kept showing up.

That illness hit the very things people know you for.

It felt targeted; when the usual sources of worth were stripped, what remained was kindness, sensitivity I used to mislabel as weakness, and ordinary resilience—small wins, small joys, and a humbler spirit; I’m not back to full strength, but I’m much better.

Any last words for someone at the foothills of change?

Don’t wait on the sidelines of your own life; ask what would make next year a success, what emotions you’re avoiding, and what an audience would beg you to do—then do it; if one thing must be preserved, it’s agency, the belief you can act on the world.

Thank you; you’ve got a tour coming and that Naval conversation was special, and thank you for how you show up behind the scenes—before we close, for strivers with big goals, break them into tiny daily steps and stay consistent.