I was about 60 days sober, sitting in a meeting in West Hollywood, and this guy is sharing about how he can’t stay clean. He’s tried everything. Inpatient, outpatient, therapy, medication, geographic moves. Nothing sticks.
I know exactly what he means. I’d tried to get sober probably twenty times before this. Each attempt started the same way: massive guilt, genuine desire to change, promises to myself and others. Each one ended the same way too.
But this time felt different. It wasn’t that I wanted it more – I’d wanted it desperately before. And it certainly wasn’t a worse rock bottom: I’d been homeless, overdosed, and lost everything multiple times. The difference was that this time I had structure. Actual, specific, boring structure that I followed whether I felt like it or not.
Every morning: Wake up. Make bed. Meditate for at least three minutes. Write a gratitude list. Do some kind of spiritual reading. Identify three non-negotiables for the day. It wasn’t inspired. It wasn’t profound. But it was clear, and I could do it even when my brain felt like scrambled eggs.
Commitment isn’t about how badly you want something. It’s about how well you’ve designed the system around it.
Present you: “I’m going to wake up at 5am and work out every day!” Future you at 5am: “That’s adorable. Snooze.”
Present you: “I’ll definitely start that business plan tonight.” Future you at 9pm: Already deep in a Netflix binge, wearing the same sweatpants from yesterday.
The problem isn’t weakness or lack of character. The problem is that we treat commitments like feelings when they’re actually engineering problems. You don’t need more willpower. You need better design.
After years of making and breaking commitments to sobriety, to businesses, to relationships, I’ve identified four “amplifiers” that turn wishes into actions. They’re not magic. Honestly, they’re not even that creative. But they work because they respect how human psychology actually functions rather than how we wish it did.
An actual commitment looks like this:
Every morning:
Peter Gollwitzer’s research on “implementation intentions” found that people who use “if-then” planning are 2-3 times more likely to achieve their goals. (https://psycnet.apa.org/record/1999-05760-004) The reason is simple: they’ve eliminated the need to decide whether to take the action or not in the moment.
But clearly defining a commitment also means defining why you’re doing it and who or what it serves beyond yourself.
My daily structure wasn’t just about staying sober. Each element reinforced an identity: “I’m someone in recovery who takes care of himself.” Making my bed proved I could follow through on something. Meditation proved I could sit with discomfort. The gratitude list rewired my brain to look for good instead of problems.
When you define a commitment, answer these:
At first, I thought this was mostly about confession or getting things off my chest. It wasn’t. It was about installing a witness in my life who could see patterns I couldn’t, call me on my bullshit, and remind me who I was trying to become when I forgot. Which was roughly every six minutes.
When I talk about accountability with people, many of them think “accountability” means having someone who will yell at you when you screw up, like a drill sergeant. But that’s not accountability at all; that’s just externalized pressure that leans on shame. Real accountability is about creating relationships where hiding becomes harder than showing up.
In my experience, you need three types of people on your personal board of directors:
The Cheerleader: Someone who believes in your potential even when you’re full of shit. They see the best version of you and hold that vision when you can’t. They understand the difference between enabling and encouraging and they do the latter.
The Mirror: Someone who reflects back what you’re actually doing, which is rarely what you think you’re doing or what you’re intending to do. They ask questions like “How many meetings did you actually go to this week?” They help you see clearly.
The Challenger: Someone who calls you forward. My pickleball coach once told me, “The best way to defend against that shot is don’t hit the shot that sets it up.” This person helps you see the bigger game you’re playing.
Most people choose accountability partners who won’t actually hold them accountable. This is like hiring a personal trainer who lets you eat donuts during squats. Comfortable, but useless.
Real accountability requires vulnerability. You have to let people see you. The actual messy human trying to figure it out, rather than your made-for-TV Hallmark Channel version. And that’s terrifying. Which is exactly why it works.
This is environmental architecture: designing your world so the right choice is the easy choice and the wrong choice requires effort.
Why did I freeze my credit cards? Because current-Michael knew that he might not be able to trust future-Michael not to burn his EDD money on Nikes at The Grove the next time he was there. So current-Michael created a system that would make it just inconvenient enough for future-Michael to make a not-so-smart decision.
Most of us try to make changes through willpower alone. But truly, that’s like trying to diet with a freezer full of ice cream. You’re human, and I promise that you will eventually eat it. The mistake was trusting future-you to make good decisions when current-you could have just avoided buying the ice cream altogether.
Current-you is thinking clearly about this commitment. Who knows what state of mind future-you will be in.
BJ Fogg at Stanford studies behavior design, and his research is clear: motivation is unreliable, but environment is forever. The easier you make a behavior, the more likely you are to do it. The harder you make it, the less likely. Simple. (https://behaviordesign.stanford.edu/resources/fogg-behavior-model)
Living in sober living was really powerful environmental architecture. I couldn’t isolate because people were everywhere. Meetings happened in the house, so I’d have to actively leave to avoid them. Using meant sneaking around, lying, scheming. Staying sober meant just… staying put.
But you can create this anywhere:
Physical Environment:
Anyway, sorry.
For a moment, my entire “rebuilding my life” plan was: wash that sock.
Just wash the sock. Forget getting sober forever, rebuilding my career, repairing relationships. Just figure out a way to wash that one fucking sock.
Your brain is constantly making predictions about what you’re capable of. Every time you say you’ll do something and don’t, your brain updates its belief about your reliability. You’re literally training your brain to distrust you.
But every time you follow through, even on something idiotic like washing one sock, your brain updates in the other direction. “Oh, we’re washing socks now are we? That’s progress. This guy’s going places””
There’s a research study I’ve mentioned here before, conducted by Teresa Amabile and Steven Kramer, where they studied 12,000 daily journal entries from workers and found that the single biggest professional motivator wasn’t money, recognition, or achieving massive goals. It was making progress. Any progress. Even tiny progress. They have a book called The Progress Principle. It’s great. You should read it.
The progress principle works because momentum is chemical, not logical. Once you’re in motion, staying in motion feels better than stopping. But you have to start, and starting is always the hardest part.
So the trick is to make starting so easy it’s almost harder to avoid than to do:
As of today, I’ve made my bed for 2,293 days straight. Hotels, camping, crashes on couches. It started as a stupid little task my sponsor gave me. It became proof that I was someone who kept commitments, even the small ones. Especially the small ones.
Commitment isn’t about wanting it badly enough. If it were, I would have gotten sober the first time I tried. Or the fifth. Or the tenth.
Commitment is about engineering. It’s about creating such a clear path, surrounded by such supportive people, in such a well-designed environment, starting with such tiny steps, that following through becomes the path of least resistance.
You don’t need to be stronger. You don’t need to want it more. You need to stop treating future-you like they’re going to be some kind of superhero and start treating them like what they are: a tired human who will take whatever path you’ve made easiest.
The four amplifiers work because they respect this reality:
The commitments that stick aren’t the ones you muscle through. They’re the ones you engineer so well that keeping them becomes easier than breaking them.
Your future self isn’t going to suddenly become disciplined. But if you design things right, they won’t need to be.
Start small. Start specific. Start now.
Even if all you have is one sock.
I know exactly what he means. I’d tried to get sober probably twenty times before this. Each attempt started the same way: massive guilt, genuine desire to change, promises to myself and others. Each one ended the same way too.
But this time felt different. It wasn’t that I wanted it more – I’d wanted it desperately before. And it certainly wasn’t a worse rock bottom: I’d been homeless, overdosed, and lost everything multiple times. The difference was that this time I had structure. Actual, specific, boring structure that I followed whether I felt like it or not.
Every morning: Wake up. Make bed. Meditate for at least three minutes. Write a gratitude list. Do some kind of spiritual reading. Identify three non-negotiables for the day. It wasn’t inspired. It wasn’t profound. But it was clear, and I could do it even when my brain felt like scrambled eggs.
Commitment isn’t about how badly you want something. It’s about how well you’ve designed the system around it.
Why Most Commitments Die Quiet Deaths
Your future self is basically a stranger who doesn’t give a shit about your current intentions.Present you: “I’m going to wake up at 5am and work out every day!” Future you at 5am: “That’s adorable. Snooze.”
Present you: “I’ll definitely start that business plan tonight.” Future you at 9pm: Already deep in a Netflix binge, wearing the same sweatpants from yesterday.
The problem isn’t weakness or lack of character. The problem is that we treat commitments like feelings when they’re actually engineering problems. You don’t need more willpower. You need better design.
After years of making and breaking commitments to sobriety, to businesses, to relationships, I’ve identified four “amplifiers” that turn wishes into actions. They’re not magic. Honestly, they’re not even that creative. But they work because they respect how human psychology actually functions rather than how we wish it did.
Amplifier #1: Define It So Clearly a Zombie Could Follow It
“I want to get sober” isn’t a commitment. It’s a hope. A direction. A nice idea that will dissolve the moment things get hard. It’s like saying “I want abs” or “I should travel more.” Okay, neat. Now what?An actual commitment looks like this:
Every morning:
- Wake up by 7 AM
- Make bed immediately (no phone first)
- Meditate for minimum 3 minutes using Headspace
- Write 5 things I’m grateful for in my journal
- Read one page from a recovery book
- Write down 3 things I will definitely do today
Peter Gollwitzer’s research on “implementation intentions” found that people who use “if-then” planning are 2-3 times more likely to achieve their goals. (https://psycnet.apa.org/record/1999-05760-004) The reason is simple: they’ve eliminated the need to decide whether to take the action or not in the moment.
But clearly defining a commitment also means defining why you’re doing it and who or what it serves beyond yourself.
My daily structure wasn’t just about staying sober. Each element reinforced an identity: “I’m someone in recovery who takes care of himself.” Making my bed proved I could follow through on something. Meditation proved I could sit with discomfort. The gratitude list rewired my brain to look for good instead of problems.
When you define a commitment, answer these:
- What exactly will I do? (So specific a stranger could follow it)
- When exactly will I do it? (Remove the decision)
- Why does this matter? (Beyond just achieving the goal)
- Who else benefits? (We keep commitments to others better than to ourselves)
- What kind of person does this? (Identity is stronger than motivation)
Amplifier #2: Build Your Board of Directors
When I finally got sober, I had a sponsor named Jeffery who I told everything. And I mean everything. Every tiny thought, fear, resentment, victory, and fuckup.At first, I thought this was mostly about confession or getting things off my chest. It wasn’t. It was about installing a witness in my life who could see patterns I couldn’t, call me on my bullshit, and remind me who I was trying to become when I forgot. Which was roughly every six minutes.
When I talk about accountability with people, many of them think “accountability” means having someone who will yell at you when you screw up, like a drill sergeant. But that’s not accountability at all; that’s just externalized pressure that leans on shame. Real accountability is about creating relationships where hiding becomes harder than showing up.
In my experience, you need three types of people on your personal board of directors:
The Cheerleader: Someone who believes in your potential even when you’re full of shit. They see the best version of you and hold that vision when you can’t. They understand the difference between enabling and encouraging and they do the latter.
The Mirror: Someone who reflects back what you’re actually doing, which is rarely what you think you’re doing or what you’re intending to do. They ask questions like “How many meetings did you actually go to this week?” They help you see clearly.
The Challenger: Someone who calls you forward. My pickleball coach once told me, “The best way to defend against that shot is don’t hit the shot that sets it up.” This person helps you see the bigger game you’re playing.
Most people choose accountability partners who won’t actually hold them accountable. This is like hiring a personal trainer who lets you eat donuts during squats. Comfortable, but useless.
Real accountability requires vulnerability. You have to let people see you. The actual messy human trying to figure it out, rather than your made-for-TV Hallmark Channel version. And that’s terrifying. Which is exactly why it works.
Amplifier #3: Design Your Environment Like You’re Parenting Your Future Self
In early recovery, in an effort to force myself to save money, I decided to deactivate my credit cards. Actually deactivate them. So if I wanted to use one, I’d have to call the company, sit on hold, talk to a human, and reactivate it. That gap between impulse and action saved me more times than I can count.This is environmental architecture: designing your world so the right choice is the easy choice and the wrong choice requires effort.
Why did I freeze my credit cards? Because current-Michael knew that he might not be able to trust future-Michael not to burn his EDD money on Nikes at The Grove the next time he was there. So current-Michael created a system that would make it just inconvenient enough for future-Michael to make a not-so-smart decision.
Most of us try to make changes through willpower alone. But truly, that’s like trying to diet with a freezer full of ice cream. You’re human, and I promise that you will eventually eat it. The mistake was trusting future-you to make good decisions when current-you could have just avoided buying the ice cream altogether.
Current-you is thinking clearly about this commitment. Who knows what state of mind future-you will be in.
BJ Fogg at Stanford studies behavior design, and his research is clear: motivation is unreliable, but environment is forever. The easier you make a behavior, the more likely you are to do it. The harder you make it, the less likely. Simple. (https://behaviordesign.stanford.edu/resources/fogg-behavior-model)
Living in sober living was really powerful environmental architecture. I couldn’t isolate because people were everywhere. Meetings happened in the house, so I’d have to actively leave to avoid them. Using meant sneaking around, lying, scheming. Staying sober meant just… staying put.
But you can create this anywhere:
Physical Environment:
- Put your meditation app on your home screen, social media buried in folders
- Keep your gym clothes laid out like a crime scene outline
- Make your bed immediately so getting back in requires undoing work
- Stock your fridge with prepped meals so healthy eating is grab-and-go
- Schedule recurring meetings or calls you’d have to cancel
- Join groups where your absence is noticed
- Work in public spaces where others can see your screen
- Find accountability buddies who work alongside you
- Use website blockers during focus hours
- Set up automatic transfers so saving happens without thinking
- Create calendar blocks for important but non-urgent work
- Make helpful things easy to access, harmful things require steps
Amplifier #4: Start So Stupid Small It’s Embarrassing
When I was living rent-free in Balboa Park, I owned one sock. One. The other had disappeared somewhere between my last blackout and waking up on a bench. It was smart and bounced before things got really bad. I like to think it’s living a better life now, maybe married to a nice sandal in Malibu.Anyway, sorry.
For a moment, my entire “rebuilding my life” plan was: wash that sock.
Just wash the sock. Forget getting sober forever, rebuilding my career, repairing relationships. Just figure out a way to wash that one fucking sock.
Your brain is constantly making predictions about what you’re capable of. Every time you say you’ll do something and don’t, your brain updates its belief about your reliability. You’re literally training your brain to distrust you.
But every time you follow through, even on something idiotic like washing one sock, your brain updates in the other direction. “Oh, we’re washing socks now are we? That’s progress. This guy’s going places””
There’s a research study I’ve mentioned here before, conducted by Teresa Amabile and Steven Kramer, where they studied 12,000 daily journal entries from workers and found that the single biggest professional motivator wasn’t money, recognition, or achieving massive goals. It was making progress. Any progress. Even tiny progress. They have a book called The Progress Principle. It’s great. You should read it.
The progress principle works because momentum is chemical, not logical. Once you’re in motion, staying in motion feels better than stopping. But you have to start, and starting is always the hardest part.
So the trick is to make starting so easy it’s almost harder to avoid than to do:
- Instead of “write for an hour,” write one sentence
- Instead of “go to the gym,” put on your gym shoes
- Instead of “eat healthy,” eat one vegetable
- Instead of “get sober,” go to one meeting
- Instead of “build a business,” send one email
As of today, I’ve made my bed for 2,293 days straight. Hotels, camping, crashes on couches. It started as a stupid little task my sponsor gave me. It became proof that I was someone who kept commitments, even the small ones. Especially the small ones.
The Truth About Lasting Change
That guy in the meeting who couldn’t stay clean? He had all the desire in the world. What he didn’t have was a system. He was basically trying to build IKEA furniture with pure enthusiasm and no instructions.Commitment isn’t about wanting it badly enough. If it were, I would have gotten sober the first time I tried. Or the fifth. Or the tenth.
Commitment is about engineering. It’s about creating such a clear path, surrounded by such supportive people, in such a well-designed environment, starting with such tiny steps, that following through becomes the path of least resistance.
You don’t need to be stronger. You don’t need to want it more. You need to stop treating future-you like they’re going to be some kind of superhero and start treating them like what they are: a tired human who will take whatever path you’ve made easiest.
The four amplifiers work because they respect this reality:
- Define it clearly so you don’t have to decide in the moment
- Create accountability so hiding is harder than showing up
- Design your environment so the right choice is the easy choice
- Start stupid small so your brain learns to trust you again
The commitments that stick aren’t the ones you muscle through. They’re the ones you engineer so well that keeping them becomes easier than breaking them.
Your future self isn’t going to suddenly become disciplined. But if you design things right, they won’t need to be.
Start small. Start specific. Start now.
Even if all you have is one sock.
