Separating concerns from what you can actually control

Andy Stumpf is a retired Navy SEAL and wingsuit pilot who set two world records. But the conversation he holds with Andrew Huberman on the Huberman Lab podcast is not really about extreme feats — it is about the mental tools that allow anyone to act with clarity when life gets complicated. The most powerful of those tools fits on a single sheet of paper.

The influence vs. concern exercise

Take a blank piece of paper and draw a line down the middle. On the left side, write down everything currently occupying your mind: what worries you, what keeps you awake, what you cannot let go of. On the right side, write down what you can directly influence.

The left column will almost certainly be full. The right column will be nearly empty. And what lands on the right always reduces to one thing: yourself. Your thinking, how you manage your time, how you respond to what happens. Everything else — the news, what other people do, the past, other people's opinions — belongs to the concern column.

The goal is not to eliminate concern. It is to identify when energy is flowing toward things that cannot be changed, so it can be redirected toward what actually can. Stumpf does this exercise roughly once a month, or whenever sticky thoughts keep him from sleeping.

The core idea: your response is always yours

Stumpf was trained in Naval Special Operations to function in environments where almost nothing can be controlled. The conclusion he draws from that experience is not that SEALs have more control over the world than other people — it is precisely the opposite: you have no control over what happens to you, but you have complete control over how you respond.

That distinction, straightforward as it sounds, has practical consequences. When something triggers an emotional reaction, the first question is no longer "how do I fix this?" but "is this in my influence column?" If it is not, the energy spent on it does not improve the outcome — it only depletes you.

Choosing the slightly harder option, even in small things

Another principle running through Stumpf's book Drown Proof is the practice of consistently choosing the slightly more difficult option. This is not about grand, visible gestures — it is about the small decisions nobody sees:

• Getting up instead of staying in bed scrolling
• Going to the workout when motivation is absent
• Telling the truth when silence would be more comfortable
• Finishing the task before looking for distraction

Stumpf argues that the gap between people who move forward and those who stay stuck is not talent or circumstance — it is the accumulation of these small choices over time.

Screen time as a practical application

The conversation addresses screen time as a concrete example of the influence exercise in action. Stumpf and a colleague discovered they were consuming more than four hours of phone use per day. Their attempt to cut it below one hour led to a useful insight: the most effective strategy was not resisting the impulse directly but moving activities to a laptop, where the experience is far less sticky.

Instagram on a laptop does not have the same pull as Instagram on a phone. Changing the device changes the behavior without requiring constant willpower.

Mental health, suicide, and what is not being said

A significant portion of the conversation is dedicated to mental health and suicide — a topic that disproportionately affects military veterans but whose frequency is rising across all demographics. Both Stumpf and Huberman approach the discussion honestly, acknowledging the limits of current understanding while making the case for removing the taboo around the topic.

Stumpf's position is that the same principles that allow functioning under extreme pressure — recognizing what you can control, choosing action over inaction, being honest about the actual state of things — are directly transferable to navigating the darkest moments of everyday life.

The hardest things did not happen in the military

One of the most significant revelations in both the book and the conversation is that the most difficult periods in Stumpf's life did not occur during combat or wingsuit flights — they came from his personal life. He addresses them directly and without dramatization, precisely because he believes normalizing them is part of what makes sharing them useful.

The implicit argument is that resilience frameworks developed in extreme environments are transferable, not because your situation resembles a SEAL's, but because clarity, action, and acceptance of what cannot be changed function independently of context.

How to start

The influence vs. concern exercise requires no prior training and no special materials. A piece of paper and ten minutes is all it takes. Stumpf suggests doing it whenever something occupies the mind without resolving, especially first thing in the morning or before sleep. Optimal frequency varies; once a month or when persistent thoughts appear tends to work well.

The promise is not freedom from concern. It is a clearer map of where to put your energy.