For example, I enjoyed reading this line: “You will find yourself thinking more critically, accepting fewer assertions at face value and perhaps developing an emboldened sense of what you can accomplish.” I couldn’t shake the feeling there needed to be some kind of wrap-up. Not for my sake, but because that would have dumbed it down.

It doesn’t tell the reader what to do and how to do it. Instead, it suggests something more along the lines of searching — or in this case, researching — to figure out how. Think of learning how to cook. It isn’t so much reading the recipe, but knowing which ingredients go together. That way, one can buy simple ingredients to create a dish whenever he or she needs to.

Surprisingly, it was easy to be turned off to advice that wasn’t specifically telling me what to do. The reason for that stems from how advice is typically given: as an action to undertake instead of the lesson learned. Of course, Merriam-Webster tells me advice is a “recommendation regarding a decision or course of conduct,” but whatever, I have 400 more words to write.

It could be said advice is always about what actions to take; perhaps it is the reason behind the advice that should change.

Plenty of people give advice based on what they want to avoid. If I do something and suffer for it, the advice I give about that action is going to be about avoiding my particular consequence. I would be a gigantic jerk if I walked around giving advice that, as far as I know, always leads to something bad.

That being said, it is worth questioning why we give the advice we give. It is a good thing to suggest ways people can avoid immediate, irreparable damage such as death. In other instances, there might be valuable knowledge.

Failure is an excellent, though unforgiving, teacher. I learned more about football after I lost my scholarship than I did in the five years I played. Admittedly, most of it was unpleasant, but it did provide me with both the knowledge and the context to understand what I learned.

That means if someone asks me about how they should approach the sport, I don’t have to tell them what to do, but what happened to me, how it affected my life, mentality and general outlook on life.

I’m not saying I always talk in parables and never give straight answers. I do try to let the person know enough to make their own choice. Too often it seems some advice is given as a command, such as “make my day” instead of “It’s OK to do that.”

A way for figuring out what advice to give and accept could be as easy as creating a bucket list. Map out the things in life you want to do before you die, then figure out why.

Map out the things they should do before they die, then write what lesson was learned. Look at the list again, take the least important and put those on your “f—- it list.” That stuff is for when you need to grandstand.

Whatever lessons are left, whatever experiences seem essential to getting through this life are the ones to take into consideration. Advice given should attempt to show the listener a way to view that knowledge. Advice taken should be a way to move closer to that knowledge or context.

In the end, advice is what it makes of us.

David Barker is the State News opinion editor. Reach him at barkerd@msu.edu.