12 Rules for Life by Jordan Peterson

Norman Doidge, author of the book “The Brain That Changes Itself”, writes the foreword for Peterson’s book. He says “… alongside our wish to be free of rules, we all search for structure.“.

His statement captures a fascinating paradox – while we crave freedom, we also need order to make sense of the world. 12 Rules for Life is built on this tension, offering a framework for navigating life’s chaos without restricting personal agency.

Peterson spends quite a lot of time talking about chaos, and contrasting it with order. Like the Taoist symbol of Yin-Yang, chaos and order are forever entwined, and one contains in it the seeds of the other.

Order is always at risk of devolving into chaos (like a country falling into civil strife), and in every chaotic situation is a potential for order (like protestors adhering to group rules and taking on set roles).

Order has been called masculine since any order necessitates a desire to control, to mould the world per our liking, to dominate over the elements and make them serve us – traditionally masculine traits. While chaos has been called feminine since it is from chaos that anything new can be birthed.

We humans do not like chaos, it’s too … chaotic. That is why we try to build order in our lives – our institutions, cities, laws, traditions and even our daily routines are manifestations of this desire for order. But too much of order can also be stifling and restrictive – just ask someone living in a highly stratified company or a dictatorial country. Peterson argues that life is lived at the balance between these two – not in total order or pure chaos, but in the space where they interact.

That is what rules should be – Tools that allow us to walk the fine line between order and chaos. Providing us with just enough footing to take the constant buffeting by chaos, but not lock us to the ground.

According to Peterson we do not take care of ourselves (he cites a study that showed people will remember to give medicines to their dogs more regularly than they will remember to take their own medication) because we secretly hold ourselves in contempt, subconsciously punishing ourselves as we are too aware of our own flaws.

Self-contempt leads to neglect – we hesitate to take care of ourselves properly because, deep down, we don’t believe we deserve it. The contrast with a dog is striking: a dog is innocent whereas we humans are very aware of how low we can stoop, that we will administer violence for its own sake. Clearly someone who is capable of doing so is reprehensible. You know this, and so you treat yourself in contempt.

“If we wish to take care of ourselves properly, we would have to respect ourselves—but we don’t, because we are—not least in our own eyes—fallen creatures.“.

His rule “Treat yourself like someone you are responsible for helping” is a direct antidote to this mindset. Instead of viewing yourself through the lens of contempt and punishment, he urges adopting the same care and responsibility that one would have for another being in need.

The reason to do this is because it is virtuous to stand up against a bully, even if that bully is you.

Further, you have a moral obligation to take care of yourself. Peterson emphasises that, despite human imperfection, we are intrinsically valuable—not only to ourselves but also to others and the broader unfolding of life.

What stands out is his argument that self-care is not just personal maintenance; it’s a moral duty. He challenges the idea that flaws should lead to self-punishment, instead framing care for oneself as a responsibility akin to caring for a loved one. The logic is striking: if we extend kindness to others despite their shortcomings, why shouldn’t we do the same for ourselves?

His perspective ties into his broader philosophy: embrace responsibility, confront reality, and strive toward improvement, rather than succumbing to despair or self-loathing.

You’re not perfect, you’re not God – But you are His creation after all. You’re trying to do good though you may be surrounded by bad, you’re trying to bring order though you may surrounded by chaos. Cut yourself some slack.

First of all, should you compare at all?

Peterson argues you should, because comparison, or in other words, the setting of standards, give life direction and prevent it from becoming a breeding ground for mediocrity.

But our inner critic often sabotages us by fixating on one arbitrary metric of success, comparing us to unreachable perfection, and using that gap to crush motivation.

The result? Paralysis, self-doubt, and a warped sense of injustice.

His solution: Shift the frame—instead of comparing to others, define success by whether you’ve improved from your past self. That way, progress is measurable, personal, and attainable.

There is truth in this: By adulthood, each person’s life is so uniquely structured that any comparison between individuals is meaningless.

Your circumstances, personality, values, and experiences are so distinct that stacking them against someone else’s life creates a distorted perspective – it’s apples and oranges.

Instead, Peterson argues, the only meaningful comparison is between who you are today and who you were yesterday.

All of life is suffering, that is the first rule of Buddhism and many other traditions echo the same, so does Peterson. That you are suffering is not new or unique to you. Everyone who can feel can suffer. Your particular station in life just changes the kinds of suffering you are afflicted by, for example:

• If you’re young then you are less likely to suffer because of ill health – But you will suffer as you try to find your place in society and find a companion.
• If you are poor, you are less likely to suffer from the excesses of wealth like entitlement, social disconnection, lack of direction, and even mental fatigue from too many choices – But you will suffer as you try to make ends meet and put food on the table.
• If you are new in your career then you are less likely to suffer from the pressure of leading teams and maintaining profitability of your department – But you will suffer from lack of a financial safety net.

You may have noticed that human beings have a notable capability of being able to suffer irrespective of their external circumstances, it seems that we cannot help but suffer. This is because suffering is internal – you are the creator of your own suffering. The ability of the human being to feel also gives him the curse of suffering. And the more your capacity to feel, the more your suffering will be.

All of this is not helped by the fact that entropy exists and all our hard work to improve our lot will eventually be undone by a faceless, heartless omnipotent force.

All good till here. You are suffering, I am suffering, the world is suffering. What do we do with all this suffering we are generating?

Peterson talks about how some people use their suffering for good (example, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn), while some blame the world/God for their suffering and use it as licence to make others suffer (example, the Sandy Hook shooter).

Why? Why in this world full of suffering, some try to do good? If the world has made you suffer, should you not respond in kind? Isn’t forgiveness a mark of cowardice? These are not easy questions as Peterson himself agrees: “Such questions torment me.“.

Who do you blame for your misfortunes? God or yourself? Who do you credits for your victories? God or yourself?

Frustratingly, Peterson does not resolve these questions. Instead, he tells us to stop doing those things we know are wrong – “Put your own house in order first before you criticize the world“. There is no absolute right or wrong in the world, and so he tells us to go by our own inner compass. “Say only those things that make you strong. Do only those things that you could speak of with honour.“.

Suffering is chaos, using that suffering is trying to convert the chaos into order.

Peterson calls this rule “Pet a cat when you encounter one on the street.”. Here he first talks about what gives life meaning: suffering. You will read later that I have called meaning the antidote to suffering, well, suffering for its part is the progenitor of meaning.

It is a beautiful dependency between chaos and order, in creating one the other is also created.

Suffering gives meaning to life because if life was completely blissful, it would be meaningless to us.

Peterson connects this idea to the story of creation—God, being limitless, needed something finite. Because limitation (suffering) gives rise to action – if you were not suffering why would you act?

Then human life, with all its struggles and imperfections, becomes the necessary consequence of Being itself.

An omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent Being lacks nothing—except limitation. But paradoxically, limitation is what makes experience possible. Without it, there is no struggle, no transformation, no progress—only an eternal, motionless completeness.

This insight helps reconcile the tragedy of human vulnerability—rather than seeing suffering as a flaw, Peterson presents it as the very reason we exist.

Life must involve suffering and imperfection—because without those, there would be nothing to experience at all.

Then Peterson talks about how we should live. Now, it is all well and good to say that “Being requires limitation” when life is peaceful. But when your world shatters, when tragedy strikes, when life is intolerable – when suffering is too vast, too chaotic, too brutal – thinking collapses because it cannot provide a solution.

The mind, which normally seeks to organize experience, fails to make sense of the sheer weight of suffering – Peterson talks about his own experience seeing his daughter suffering through juvenile idiopathic arthritis for several years.

We like to take pride in our ability to think and indeed the 21st century has been one where thinking is hailed as a virtue – yet for all its merits we seem to forget how thinking is powerless against the true might of chaos. At this point, Peterson suggests that noticing – being present, aware, and attentive to reality – is the best we can do. As Arthur Ashe has said, “Start where you are, use what you have, do what you can.“.

Peterson argues that hierarchies are not just human inventions but fundamental to life itself, evolving across species and time. In that sense they are the most stable form of order there is.

To understand this – don’t think of hierarchies in terms of man-made organisational or social structures. Instead, think in terms of how certain things change quickly (hence, their place in the hierarchy is lower) like leaves that grow, mature and fall within a season. While some others stay the same for longer (hence, having a higher place in the hierarchy) like the tree that has a life spanning many seasons.

Peterson tells us that we have a calculator buried deep within us that is always calculating our place in the dominance hierarchy. It watches how you are treated by others in the group.

And if the calculator thinks that you are low, very low in the social order then it keeps you chronically on high alert – this then manifests in a host of physical ailments and neuroses. Its reasoning is simple: you get lower in the hierarchy when you are weak and unable to defend yourself or others you care about. You are easy pickings for a lot of others. And hence, even the smallest, most innocuous event has to be treated like life and death because it may as well turn out to be.

Conversely, those who perceive themselves as higher in the hierarchy tend to experience greater confidence, lower stress, and better overall health. Their sense of security allows them to take risks, explore opportunities, and function with less fear of immediate danger.

Peterson connects this idea to posture – he argues that carrying oneself with confidence (“Stand up straight with your shoulders back” rule) signals strength to the hierarchy, influencing how others treat you. While routine, good waking/sleeping habits, eating well signal to yourself that you’re in control. All this leads to a positive feedback loop that may end up actually increasing your position in the hierarchy.

Peterson talks about his own teenage years and how wayward they were.

But eventually he found direction in college when his peer group changed to those who were actually trying to do something with their lives, while his other friends could not and one even committed suicide.

His personal story reinforces his point: when he surrounded himself with people striving toward something, he found direction.

But others in his former circle remained stuck – some due to circumstance, some due to choice.

Peterson’s cautionary warning “Before you help someone, you should find out why that person is in trouble” is crucial—it suggests that blindly offering aid isn’t always the best approach. Some people are weighed down by external hardships, while others may subconsciously reject progress because they don’t value themselves enough.

If someone doesn’t believe they are worth saving, they might resist help or even drag down those trying to lift them. And this fatalism is easy to do, this is taking the easy way out. Baffling is when people don’t take the easy way out. Virtue, not vice, is the mystery.

Peterson’s overall lesson is this: Be with people who want the best – for you and themselves.

It’s not just about cutting out toxic influences, but also recognizing when someone isn’t truly committed to change and protecting yourself from being pulled into their stagnation.

As I wrote above, all of life is suffering one way or another- so does this mean all of us should become hedonists? Chasing away hither-tither after fleeting pleasures? Lying, cheating, begging, stealing for the next high?

This kind of a life is base, diffuse, immature, irresponsible – in a word, cowardly.

Instead, Peterson tells us to focus on that which is meaningful to us and not that which is expedient.

In other words he is asking us to sacrifice for what we believe is good. In yet more words he is asking us to be courageous.

Why? Why be courageous when we can be cowardly as long as that cowardice gets us pleasure.

Because pleasure is a temporary respite from suffering, it is chaotic running from pillar to post chasing the next high. While meaning, like I wrote above, is how we convert chaos into order. In that way, meaning is the antidote to suffering.

Honesty with oneself often requires sacrifice—letting go of illusions, facing uncertainty, and making choices that aren’t always easy.

The ego resists this because it thrives on stability, self-preservation, and the familiar.

It calls truth impractical because truth disrupts established narratives, forces accountability, and sometimes demands painful change.

Peterson speaks to this exact tension – choosing meaning over expedience is rarely convenient, but it grounds you in reality rather than in comfortable deception.

The ego fears discomfort, but the soul understands that the cost of avoidance is far greater.

Peterson calls this rule “Tell the truth. Or, at least, don’t lie.“, and what he means by this is that you should not run away from the discomfort of what your soul is telling you. You should be able to look yourself in the eye and say that your actions and speech are a mirror reflection of your belief. If there is a gap between the two then work to bridging it, because greater the chasm between what you believe in and your speech and actions, indeed, between what you truly believe in and the story you are telling yourself, the bigger will be your life-lie.

A life-lie is a concept from Adlerian psychology where someone keeps a mindset that only allows for a specific interpretation of their life circumstances. A life-lie is often tied to excuses and justifications people create to avoid facing difficult truths about themselves or their actions. It serves as a protective illusion, preventing them from confronting reality and taking control of their own lives.

Peterson builds on this idea, describing a life-lie as a false belief that shields a person from confronting their own failures or the true consequences of their actions. Instead of adapting and improving, they cling to a narrative that absolves them of responsibility.

Living a life-lie is comforting until the time comes to pay the bills of that protective illusion – and this is important because a life-lie demands in payment of its services with your very character.

Peterson talks about how we can bear with the gravest of misfortunes if we are honest about them to ourselves and others. We develop the capacity to face the callous vagaries of fate itself. But when we lie to ourselves (and as a result to others), and as it slowly chips away at our character, we have nothing to left to fight with and in a sense, nothing left to fight for.

Peterson acknowledges that accepting the truth and speaking it is hard. It is a form of sacrifice where you sacrifice a part of yourself (a belief you had) for something new of unproven value. Speaking the truth requires making sacrifices over and over, and then dealing with the brunt of the sacrifices.

He gives the example of how someone’s career plans and ideas about a successful life made at the time of their youth may not be what their middle-aged self wants.

Stubbornly clinging to a dream from the past will only manifest as irritability, impatience and make for a morose existence.

Given life is ever changing, that nothing is absolute the best you can do is be honest with yourself as you find yourself in that moment. It means accepting that you are trying but have little idea of how things are going to turn out and being at peace with that. It also means accepting that what was true for you yesterday may not be true for you today, which itself may not be true for yourself tomorrow. Being honest with yourself is about the having the courage to embrace change.

I ask myself – “If truth is ever changing, and you have to be honest of your current analysis of it to yourself and to others, how do you then stop being paralysed into inaction?”, and after thinking for some time this answer comes to me: “Even inaction is a form of action. No matter what you do or do not do, in any case you will be taking action. Therefore, it is not a question of whether you should or should not act, because not acting itself will mean acting by abstaining. Instead, the question is how you should act. Should you act by considering all that you know to be true and good in that moment? Or should you ignore some parts?”. The answer to that, I think, your soul will quickly give you (even though your ego may call it impractical a moment later) – Be honest with yourself and act accordingly.

Another related rule from Peterson is “Be precise in your speech” where he is essentially talking about the same thing though how he gets there is super interesting.

In many words Peterson basically says that when we look at the world, we don’t see things – what we really see is “me” or “not me”, and for the things “not me”, we see “can help me” or “can hurt me”. Let’s unpack this.

First, “me” and “not me” is those things and ideas that you consider indistinguishable from who “you” are.

• Things: Your hand, your eyes, your son, your mother and so on.
• Ideas: Your country, your company, your political inclination, your life philosophy and so on.

When you consider something as “me” you will work (or more broadly, sacrifice) for its benefit. Because both the beneficiary and the benefactor are, well, essentially the same. I realised this sometime after having my own child that besides the evolutionary hard-wiring, people love their children because they subconsciously see their children as themselves in just another body – so, not so much as “this is my daughter” as “my daughter is me”.

Naturally therefore, the things that are “not me” become “uses”. In other words, if you do not consider something as yourself, it will become, whether you like it or not, a tool for you to use (or alternatively, something to avoid). Example, the car Uber sent you is a tool to take you from place A to B.

So, you see the world, at your deepest level, as either yourself or a collection of tools with uses.

Why? Why do we see the world like this? Simple, because this simplifies the world to us – our world is “me” and “not me”, and “not me” is either a tool to be used or something to be avoided. Attempting to see the world in an objectively accurate way will place tremendous cognitive load on the organism and such a trait would be promptly weeded out by evolution.

Simplicity boosts action, complexity stymies it. We construct a story of the world and us in it, and if that story is simple we can act. But if that story is complicated with many plot lines then we aren’t sure of the right thing to do.

Therefore, we make simple stories about our lives. The problem comes when entropy (common name: natural disaster, partner’s infidelity, health deterioration etc.) disrupts our life and shows the inadequacy of our story. It is during these times that we are forced to confront two things: (1) that we were really telling ourselves a story which was a simplification of reality as it is, and (2) that we are inadequate to simplify reality as it is to conform to our stories.

At this time we turn to experts – Peterson takes the simple example of your car inexplicably breaking down on the side of your road that makes you confront the the oversimplicity of the story your told yourself about your car (“it is a thing that takes me from point A to B”) and also your inadequacy to mould reality to adhere to your simply story (“I don’t know how to fix a car, I need a mechanic”).

Of course you can also try and ignore reality, in the example above this would mean repeatedly turning the key in the ignition despite protesting groans from the engine. But this will just exacerbate the problem and magnify its negative impact. The solution is courage.

Peterson’s point is that the longer you ignore, and the more vague you are about, explaining yourself or your circumstances, the longer it will take you to return to order (i.e. a new story simplifying the new reality).

Therefore, shoot straight – speak your mind as it is in the moment, define precisely what you mean, follow through on your words and see where they get you – This requires courage . Shooting straight doesn’t legitimise your thoughts or actions – they can still be wrong or sub-optimal, but it does allow for honesty, and being honest with yourself over time will lead to better feelings and actions.

“If you leave things vague, then you’ll never know what is one thing and what is another. Everything will bleed into everything else. This makes the world too complex to be managed.“.

Related to the previous section is the rule “Assume that the person you are listening to might know something you don’t.” – Since we by necessity construct a simplified narrative to navigate the world there are going to be parts that we have approximated and are not truly what we think they are.

In such a case being dogmatic about your beliefs is not only a mark of a stubborn person but also a non-thinking one. The people who think, like Socrates, know that they do not know.

So basically, Peterson is telling us to keep an open mind and be humble. When we are humble, we are more likely to listen with intent to what another person is saying. Whereas, when we are arrogant, we are just waiting for the other person to finish their turn so that we can speak and prove to them (and convince ourselves of) the superiority of our ideas and beliefs.

Listening with intent with the implicit belief that you have something to learn from the other person is an act of courage because we are exposing ourselves to the possibility of being changed by what we hear.

A true conversation is really a form of mutual exploration where both parties are interested in a topic and more importantly, in a more accurate view of that topic, I guess a true conversation is one where you leave your ego at the door.

“Your wisdom then consists not of the knowledge you already have, but the continual search for knowledge, which is the highest form of wisdom.“.

More practically, Peterson talks about the “Rogerian method” as a way we can listen better. In this method, the person who desires to speak will be allowed to speak only when he can first restate the ideas and feelings of the previous speaker accurately and to that speaker’s satisfaction.

Peterson spends quite a lot of time explaining how we should be raising our kids in the chapter for the rule “Do not let your children do anything that makes you dislike them“.

He starts by telling us that children, like soft clay, cannot magically shape into upright citizens, they need to be moulded by their caretakers. Dismissing the romantic idea parents may have of leaving kids to their own “pure” nature.

He talks about how some parents might actually be afraid of chastising or disciplining their children for fear that their children will come to dislike them. Peterson calls this line of thinking “… lazy, cruel and inexcusable.“. He makes it clear that it is the parent’s responsibility to correct their children so that they become upstanding adults in the future, even though it may invite the ire of the child in the moment.

For the parents who think that disciplining and placing limits of behaviour on children will limit their creativity, Peterson summarily dismisses this and tells us that it is the presence of limits that in fact engenders creativity. Tim Ferris said something familiar.

Indeed giving children unlimited freedom may make them more violent and careless as they will never have discovered the limits of behaviour. Limits that society will be all too happy to show them when they grow up.

The disciplining need not be harsh or overly strict, in fact Peterson tells us that the rules that children are subject to should not be increased beyond necessary, the force used when rules are broken should not be more than necessary either and parents should help keep tabs on each other’s anger towards the child so that the focus is on the child’s growth.

Disciplining your child requires you to understand well how your child learns: some kids learn by a strict glance while others may need more, and by the time they turn four you should be telling them in no uncertain terms what is right and what is wrong.

In all of this let’s make one thing clear – your job as a parent is to act as a proxy, albeit benign and caring, for the real world, more than it is to make them happy or boost their self esteem.

Your children may not like you for this, but when they become adults themselves and are able to deal with the real world without their mouths agape, they’ll understand why you did what you did. Why would you willingly deprive your child of the knowledge and experience of how the world works when they eventually have to go there. This is exactly my mindset with my own daughter.

In another related rule “Leave children alone when they are skateboarding“, Peterson warns against the dangers of being overprotective to our young (specifically young men).

Too much protection during formative years leads to adults that are unable to grapple with the inevitable tests of life.

It is a fine balance that has to be struck, again going back to the line between order and chaos that we must walk.