Writer: David Bramwell
“What do you desire? What makes you itch?”
“What would you like to do if money were no object? How would you really enjoy spending your life?"
Alan Watts
Dr. Bramwell is a man who likes to keep busy. A magpie by nature, he is a Sony-award winning presenter for BBC Radio 3 and Radio 4, host of Brighton’s Catalyst Club, author of The No9 Bus to Utopia and The Haunted Moustache, creator of the successful Cheeky Guide series and singer-songwriter in the band Oddfellow's Casino. As a performer he has toured several solo shows, won awards for 'Best Comedy' and 'Outstanding Theatre' at Brighton Fringe Festival and co-hosts a popular fortnightly podcast, The Odditorium, which ran as a spoken word tent at festivals around the UK.
As someone who has made a career from exploring cults, characters and copulation, I figured that Dr. Bramwell had a pretty interesting job. I wondered what he would have to say on the subject of work. I sent him a speculative email and to my surprise he agreed to meet for a coffee.
N.B. I found this disclaimer on his website:
“It is worth noting that David is a medical man by rumour only; approach with extreme caution, particularly if he offers to whip out your tonsils in exchange for a packet of biscuits.”
Perturbed, I decided it was best not to ask him for a diagnosis on my ominous-looking rash. Instead I would stick strictly to the subject of work. This is how our conversation went...
Dr. Bramwell, how do you decide what to work on?
There is a great quote from the philosopher Alan Watts on this subject. He says:
“What would you like to do if money were no object?”
Whatever your answer, that’s what you should be doing. If you pursue the thing that most holds your attention, that most drives you, then you will get good at it. When you are good at it, there will be someone out there who will eventually pay you for it.
The Haunted Moustache [a book about a mysterious moustache he inherited from a great aunt] is never going to make me big money, nor are podcasts. I did these projects because they were things I would do if money were no object. Because of these projects, I have started to be taken more seriously as a writer and broadcaster which means I now get paid to do the things I love.
So, my advice is to start by pursuing the thing you love doing the most. They say that a dying man never wished he spent more time in the office.
That’s all well and good but how do you make sure you cover the rent?
Before my projects paid me a proper wage, I used to be a music teacher two days a week. Back then, it was a time when there was very little paperwork and it paid quite well - it was a good gig. Whilst this was never going to be my passion, it meant I could pay the bills and had plenty of time to pursue the things I really loved.
It used to be easier to pursue whatever you wanted to do. Now rents are higher so it’s harder. But I don’t think it’s an excuse to say, “I have to toe the line, I have to earn a wage”. If you have a burning passion, if your project means a lot to you, there are always ways to get by and pay the bills. You can always live frugally - go sit in a caravan in a field somewhere if you have to! It’s not for us to judge those who are motivated by money but there are always ways round if that is not a path you choose.
We do have to recognise there is a greater divide between rich and poor; some people are in the privileged position of having choice whilst others don’t have the luxury to decide their career path.
I think the important thing is being conscious about what is really driving you. If it’s to make money then that is fine so long as you are clear that is why you are doing it. Someone has to be driven to build new companies but I know that’s not something I’m particularly good at or drawn to.
In 1999, myself and a couple of friends produced the Cheeky Guides to Oxford and Brighton [independent guidebooks to the cities]. We were offered a major publishing deal to extend our Cheeky Guide series to cities across the UK. There was a lot of money at stake, more than I’d ever experienced before. After a lot of heartache, we turned it down. We could have said, “Let’s build a big global guidebook business” but I knew it wasn’t for me. I had enjoyed creating the first two books but at that stage we had created a formula and the idea of overseeing other people whilst we produced more books in the series didn’t get me excited.
I don’t regret it because I wouldn’t have had the time to pursue the things that really interested me. Being conscious of what drives us is very important.
It seems like weirdness interests you...
Eccentricity and obsession, yes. People who are outsiders. I like that. People who carve their own paths in life. I’m drawn to that. The writer Terence McKenna once said, “Ever since I was young, I was always drawn to the weird shit.” I’m the same. I fidget if you sit me down and make me watch Strictly Come Dancing, or take me to another Hollywood shoot em’ up blockbuster. Some friends get a bit sniffy about this. They perceive it as inverted snobbery. i.e. “I can’t do mainstream culture, it’s too banal for me”. I try not to be judgmental of it. I just can’t get interested in shared conversations about what happened in Eastenders or The Great British Bake Off. I’ve always been interested in that fringe stuff. My eyes light up in occultism, in outsider music, in outsider artists.
Socrates famously said, “The unexamined life is not worth living”. That’s important. I get a lot out of exploring how other people see the world, understanding what makes them tick.
You’ve just been commissioned to do another BBC Radio 4 documentary. On big projects, are you ever fearful that people won’t like your work?
No, I’m excited about it. Is that bad? Is that arrogant? I work with an excellent producer so she would never let anything bad go out!
People have said to me before, “You don’t seem to get in your own way”. I can imagine how exhausting it would be to self-sabotage. I get excited by things, I want to run with them and move forward with them. Self-doubt can cripple us: this is a reason why people don’t write that novel or make that documentary. I’m lucky that I don’t suffer from fear of bad quality.
Conclusion
Bramwell has chosen to defy conventional ideas about work. His decision to turn down a lucrative publishing deal may seem questionable to outsiders but according to Harvard Psychology Professor Dan Gilbert, it makes perfect sense. He tells us that, in terms of happiness, a little money matters a lot but a lot of money matters little.
Earning more money always makes us happier but there are diminishing returns once we can afford the things we really need. Sure, it’s nice to go on a few extra holidays or dine in fancy restaurants but earning above the needs threshold contributes little to our sustained levels of happiness.
Accepting the publishing deal would have bumped Bramwell a little further up this graph but it would have required the considerable sacrifice of filling his time with work he didn’t enjoy. Instead, he knew he could derive far more happiness from filling his working day with projects that he was passionate about. Years of dedication to passion projects are now paying back in dividends. Now at the top of his game, he can choose commissions that both pay well and fill him with excitement.
It is rare to meet a man like David Bramwell. By the time most people have spent 20 years or so in a career they are, at the very least, a little jaded. Today I met someone who had chosen to listen to Alan Watts: he was doing the things he would do if money were no object and it seems to be serving him well. He is still excited about work - his enthusiasm is infectious. I thought about my friends who are caught up in their dull office jobs. Many of them are earning an impressive wage but they are openly resentful of their daily grind. If, on average, we spend 86,480 hours of our lives at work, that’s an awfully long time to waste with activities we do not enjoy.
Today it became clear: I too should pursue work I would do if money were no object.