“This Is Water: Some Thoughts Delivered on a Significant Occasion, About Living a Compassionate Life” is an essay by David Foster Wallace that was delivered as a commencement speech at Kenyon College on May 21, 2005. The speech was first published in The Best American Nonrequired Reading in 2006. By 2005, Wallace was nationally recognized as a literary celebrity. He published his magnum opus, Infinite Jest, in 1996 but was also known for nonfiction works like A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again (1997), Everything and More (2003), and “Consider the Lobster” (2004). His short story collections include The Girl with the Curious Hair (1989), Brief Interviews with Hideous Men (1999), and Oblivion (2004).

Wallace was nominated to deliver the speech at Kenyon College by a student, winning the honor over notable figures like Hillary Clinton and John Glenn. The commencement speech has seen viral virtual circulation on different media platforms since 2013. This guide references the transcription made available by Purdue University.

Wallace begins his speech with a parable from Infinite Jest:

There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says ‘Morning, boys. How’s the water?’ And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks at the other and goes ‘What the hell is water?’ (1).

This reference highlights how speakers are expected to address graduates and demonstrates that there are stereotypical lessons and stories that convey truths despite their overuse. Wallace has no philosophical explanation for the water because he does not consider himself wise like the old fish. Instead, he offers a lesson about lessons: “the most obvious, important realities are often the ones that are hardest to talk about” (1). Wallace dissects speech expectations, such as claims that the merit of a liberal arts degree lies in its “human value” and “liberal arts education is not so much about filling you up with knowledge as it is about teaching you how to think” (1). He hated hearing these notions as a student himself but admits to some wisdom within cliches. What matters is not how the students think but what they choose to think about. Although freedom to think about anything seems obvious, Wallace encourages his audience attend to the obvious in life.

He conveys another story that spotlights the paradox of personal interpretation: “the exact same experience can mean two totally different things to two different people” (2). He posits this is easy to accept from a liberal arts point of view, which preaches tolerance and diversity because in the end no one is labeled right or wrong. Wallace challenges this assertion; it is better to investigate an individual’s beliefs by treating them as an agent with free will, not as a predetermined object. He lists intentional choice, arrogance, and blind certainty as examples of how people construct and constrict their beliefs.

Wallace admits he gained awareness of his own biases, arrogance, and certainties the hard way and predicts the students may too. It is natural to feel self-centered when “[o]ther people’s thoughts and feelings have to be communicated to you somehow, but your own are immediate, urgent, real” (3). He emphasizes working against this inherent bias to achieve a “well-adjusted” sense of self. The work is not a matter of lofty virtues but pragmatism. It is easy to fall into the trap of over-intellectualization, especially in an academic setting. Wallace stresses the importance of paying attention over preoccupation with one’s inner monologue.

He returns to the issue of liberal arts training. Instead of teaching students how to think, he clarifies it is really “how to exercise some control over how and what to think” (4). Liberal arts education is about awareness, attention, and creating meaning. Wallace warns against the mind as a master rather than a servant. American adult life is full of demands, boredom, and frustrations that the students do not yet know intimately. These things drive people to live meaningless existences or act out violently against themselves.

Wallace paints a picture of an average adult day: a trip to the supermarket after work, an event marked by traffic, unexpected crowds, and waiting. The environment is lifeless and corporatized; surrounding passersby are suffering the same frustrations, and they are getting in the way. The only reward for making it through the tedious, depressing process is getting what is needed and going home. The students will experience some version of this routine over time, perhaps for the rest of their lives. Wallace directs them to “make a conscious decision about how to think and what to pay attention to” (6). Such experiences can feel deeply cruel when taken personally. Even when the frame of reference is switched from unfairness to oneself to unfairness to others—all of it works to make a person more miserable. Wallace underlines the power of agency and choice, particularly the choice to empathize with others and foster compassion. Strangers could be just as tired and frustrated, or worse. Extending empathy is difficult, and failure to do so is par for the course. However, giving people the benefit of the doubt remains an option throughout life; no one knows the good deeds or terrible circumstances of another’s past. By consciously embracing compassion and connection, we avoid the pitfalls of narrowmindedness. Unpleasant situations can be made meaningful because the “only thing that’s capital-T True is that you get to decide how you’re gonna try to see it” (8). Thus, “You get to decide what to worship” (8).

Wallace identifies and appeals to practical religiosity. Everyone worships something, and it is better to choose something spiritually edifying because material devotion will leave a person empty. This truth serves as scaffolding for every saying, story, and myth. Wallace promotes a conscious, everyday awareness of beliefs and meaning. The more people operate without conscious thought, the more they fall victim to avarice, pride, time, and fear. The real world will implore students to chase power and wealth as sources of freedom; it applies little value to personal depth, self-sacrifice, and compassion because those things are not mainstream or sexy. The alternative to choosing meaning is running on autopilot and existing as spiritually empty. In Wallace’s view, a true education has “almost nothing to do with knowledge, and everything to do with simple awareness; awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight” (9). He exhorts the students to stay awake, to remain conscious of their goals and beliefs. He concludes by saying that an “education really IS the job of a lifetime” (10).