I was inclined to pre-hate Jordan Peterson from the moment I first heard of him. This once-obscure Canadian academic has become a kind of spiritual scout leader of angry young men the world over with sweeping pronouncements such as: "Consciousness is symbolically masculine and has been since the beginning of time."
Some young men, threatened by changing gender and class hierarchies, seem to find Peterson's spit-spot-toughen-up-sonny-boy approach reassuring. Finally! I imagine them sighing as they open his book. A white guy who has the answers to everything: Like receiving an Auckland Grammar Old Boys newsletter that had gone astray in the post.
Peterson's bestselling book is called 12 Rules for Life: An antidote to chaos. I was looking forward to jeering at his edicts of self-reliance and individualism: "stand up straight" and "clean your room". (Peterson sometimes sounds like the kind of guy who leaps up straight after sex to put on a load of washing.) But annoyingly, when I started to read his book I found a lot of it quite inoffensive and not even all that dodgy. Who can argue with advice such as "tell the truth" and "always pat a cat when you encounter one on the street?"
I'm not so sure about "Do not let your children do anything that makes you dislike them". All kids are obnoxious little devil spawn sometimes. But you can still love them even when you want to wring their necks. (This is object constancy: The ability to tolerate ambiguity; to see that both the "good" and the "bad" are a part of the same person.)
But Peterson says the book wasn't only written for other people, but as a reminder for himself. So instead of critiquing him, I've decided to ignore his rules and write my own.