We all have our niche interests in life. Like the warhorses essay, Montaigne here focuses on something I care nothing about — armor. I’m sure it was a fascinating discussion in its time and I suppose if I had interest in martial matters, I could apply it to how troops are outfitted today. But I simply do not care.

What makes the essays compelling across 107 essays is that Montaigne, for the most part, is drawn to interesting subjects, at least in my view. The fact that Montaigne cared little about career growth is reflected in the broad range of things he let his mind wander to consider.

It’s even more true today than in Montaigne’s day that the people who tend to get promoted and earn positions of power are those who are obsessed with what they do. They do not tend to have many hobbies or groups of friends. They also tend, in my opinion, to have really boring tastes that are more about showing off their wealth than genuinely appreciating life.

One of my favorite movies is Wes Anderson’s second film “Rushmore,” which features a high school student with a massive number of hobbies (and high school club memberships) while also languishing in his studies. He states that he’s found something he loves — going to Rushmore — and wishes he could do it forever.

In a sense, that’s Montaigne’s story as well. He didn’t want to be a mayor or ambassador or even spend significant time managing his estate, he wanted to be Montaigne, to treat the whole world as his Rushmore. And that’s my story as well.

I have half a dozen time-consuming hobbies, eight different friend groups, enough interest in topics to keep me searching for news and information about them to take up at least a fraction of my day. I like to have relationships with my children based on the things they care about. And I have a dog that takes up a large share of my time and attention (and in recent months, money.)

I cannot imagine devoting myself to one specific cause or organization to the extent required to become a leader in it. For the non-profit I work for, members need to be involved in decades worth of leadership levels simply to be eligible to rise to the highest positions. This, in addition to their careers and families and whatever else in life they enjoy. I couldn’t imagine doing that.

I also have friends who have run for office, and I cannot imagine devoting my life to such a public venture, meeting and shaking hands with so many people, listening to their concerns and trying to apply it to public policy. And then having to regularly grovel to people to raise money so that you can run once more for the office you already hold. It’s an absurd way to go through life.

My view is that the world would be better off if we chose leaders randomly, picking our democratic leaders as if they were up for jury duty, except with the option to turn it down. And then after one term, they’re done and return to normal life. No one would consider it a great world changing event that they “earned” the seat of power, it would be simple dumb luck, and it would be up to them to make the most of the opportunity.

We all have a limited amount of time on this earth — spending it all on a singular pursuit of wealth and power seems idiotic to me, especially considering how we all end up — just as dead as everyone else.