Steve Carell

Good morning. Thank you Dean Johnson, for those kind words. And thank you Northwestern class of 2025 for inviting me here today. It is an honor, a privilege, and an enormous pain in the ass.

This morning, in the car, on the way here, as I was preparing to write this speech I considered various topics. Things like finding the courage to be yourself, or how to leave the world a better place, and who the hell is Big X the Plug?

And where does he get off dropping out of Dillo Day? But does it really matter what I talk about this morning? Because as we all know, most commencement addresses are soon forgotten.

As Abraham Lincoln said in his Gettysburg Address, "You will little note, nor long remember what I say here." And yes, Lincoln was right. No one remembers the Gettysburg Address.

But maybe, just maybe, you will remember this one. Today, I'd like to talk about something quite simple, something that is important to me, and something that I believe we need more of in the world. My topic this morning is kindness.

So please just shut up and listen. In the early 1800s, an Illinois farmer named Ezekiel Davis lent his milking cow to his neighbor, Jedediah Ashcroft, so that Jedediah's family could have milk to drink. Unfortunately, this was before pasteurization

And the family fell ill and died. This is a terribly sad story about human kindness. Unfortunately, it's not true.

I invented it for dramatic effect. The point is this: I don't know what I'm talking about. Anything that I say here today is very likely conjecture, falsehoods, or simply made up.

I did not attend Northwestern. I am not that smart, nor gifted in any way. I am not an academic.

My grasp of human knowledge is weak at best, and I don't talk good. But even with all of these intellectual setbacks, I understand the importance of kindness. I am kind. Or at least that seems to be a common misconception about me.

I'm sometimes referred to as a nice person. But let's face it, in Hollywood, you don't actually have to be nice to be considered nice. In clinical terms, I'm pretty nice.

I am generally pleasant, and I try not to be mean. I don't often break the law. I will laugh at your dumb jokes.

I enjoy puppies and ice cream. I regularly smile at other people, and I took time out of my busy schedule to be with you here today. These are all indications that I am pretty nice, or nice enough.

I embody a baseline human decency, which I believe should not be celebrated, but expected. Everyone should be, at very least, pretty nice. Here are a few tips to being pretty nice and/or kind.

Nothing off the charts, no belt prizes, no sainthoods, but good solid human behavior. Donate your time or money to a worthy cause. That's an excellent starting point.

People helping people, no-brainer. Return your shopping cart in the parking lot. Someone's gotta do it.

Why not you? Better yet, return yours and also return a stray cart that you didn't even use. That extra effort is next level pretty kindness. An act like this will not only help others, but it will fill your heart and spread great joy throughout the parking lot.

Humanity's parking lot. And remember to wash your hands, because some gross person probably touched that cart before you. Here's another example. Once, at a McDonald's drive-through, I pulled up to the takeout window and I said, "You see that car behind me? I want you to tell those folks to have a great day."

And then I drove off imagining the joy that I had just left behind. I would've loved to have seen their faces.

This is called paying it forward. You can also be kind to yourself. Splurge on a fun trip, a dinner out, or a new item of clothing.

Pamper yourself. This is called paying it backward. Remember that kindness isn't a weakness. It is a very potent strength.

Many famous, powerful people are also extremely kind. People like. And then there's. My point is this: It's no more difficult to be mean.

Correction. My point is It's no more difficult to be kind than it is to be me. Actually, I do know a famous, powerful person who is kind, a dear friend of mine and a Northwestern alum, Stephen Colbert. Stephen is a brilliant, wonderful person, talented, generous, better than I am in almost every way.

If he were here today, he'd probably be giving a better speech. He's an innovator, an icon, a family man, and a friend. He is so wonderful, in fact, that he makes me feel terrible about myself

And I hate him very much. Which brings me to my next topic, envy. Envy is an enemy of kindness.

Envy comes from ignorance and lack of belief in your own gifts. And frankly, what are you envious of? A facade that another human being, say, Stephen Colbert, creates for themselves.

Turn your jealousy into admiration, and use it to fuel your ambition in a positive way. In all honesty, I am not jealous of Stephen Colbert. He is, in fact, a dear friend.

And for a shell of a man, he is a great guy. Another stumbling block to kindness is the act of holding a grudge. We've all done it, and it's an easy trap to fall into.

18 years ago, I attended the Academy Awards for the first time. As I walked down the red carpet, I was nervous and anxious, and I felt terribly out of place. And then I stepped on the dress of a very famous actress, stopping her in her tracks.

She turned around and was so mean to me that I held a grudge against her for 17 years. Just the mention of her name put me in a bad mood.

Then, a year ago, we ran into each other again. And you know what? I was right the first time.

She is horrible. So I guess what I'm saying is that in 99% of cases, grudge holding is completely a waste of time, but the other 1% can be extremely satisfying and perfectly valid. I will forever be connected to Northwestern and to Chicago. My daughter is a Northwestern grad.

My My son will graduate next year. I attended the Northwestern Summer High School Institute for Theatre. And it was there that I was first introduced to improvisation when several Northwestern students gave us a master class, and that inspired me to later move back to Chicago and to pursue a career at The Second City, which leads me to another area that I would like to talk about, the art of listening.

Now, when I first started taking classes at Second City, my teacher, the wonderful Don DePollo, stressed the importance of listening. An improv scene goes nowhere unless everyone listens to each other. Don taught us about listening and a bunch of other stuff.

Should've paid attention, I did learn this from Don. The best way to see and understand another human being is to listen to them. To listen is to show respect.

Graduate right there, in the blue, right behind you what were the last words I just said? That's right, to listen is to show respect. I can see that this speech is already paying huge dividends.

Let's talk briefly about respect. Respect can be an elusive concept. Some say you must earn my respect.

How about this? Instead of requiring people to earn your respect, start out by respecting them. Fight against the natural inclination to be cynical. Assume they are good people.

I try to do this with Stephen Colbert, and it doesn't work. This morning, I've given you quite a bit to think about. But at the same time, I have said almost nothing of value.

To recap, kindness, simple concept, probably something you already know. Envy, human emotion, we all feel it. Some people are just better at hiding it than others.

Listening, I know you are all trying so hard to listen to me right now, but I get it. You've had a busy week, probably didn't go to sleep last night. You are here in person but not in spirit, I understand.

And finally, respect. As Abraham Lincoln once said, R-E-S-P-C-T. Find out what it means to me. R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Take care. TCB.

To conclude, I would actually I'd like to leave you with a few random thoughts. The word nonplussed might not mean what you think it means. Look it up. Sending someone a handwritten note will shock and confuse them, but they will love it.

Hold the door for people regardless of gender, age, or political affiliation. Be wary of those who use ChatGPT for personal emails. Never pick your nose in your car at a stoplight.

Someone is watching you and it's grossing them out. Keep in touch with friends that you've made here. Time goes by quickly.

And as is evidenced from before, just dance sometimes. And finally, Happy Father's Day to all the fathers out there. I'm sorry that this celebration of your child has ruined your special day.

Remember that you are loved. I'm a dad. My kids are right around your age, and it's difficult for me to process just how much you've all experienced in your young lives. I feel your anxiety and your fears about the world around you and it's heartbreaking to me.

You have already had to overcome a lifetime's worth of turmoil and uncertainty, and it doesn't seem fair. My wife and I do what we can to help our children through these troubling times, and I'd like to give you the same advice that we give to them. Remember the little things, like being kind and that you're not alone.

Take care of one another. Remember to laugh when you have the opportunity, and to cry when necessary. And keep in mind that as badly as you feel about the state of the world, your parents probably feel worse.

Use that. Take advantage of that. Now is the perfect time to exploit your parents' guilt and to emotionally blackmail them. They might even let you live in the basement for an extra six months.

Thank you and congratulations, Northwestern class twenty twenty five. Thank you.