Chasing Life

Hey there, welcome to Chasing Life. You know, it's no secret that I'm a proud alumni of the University of Michigan. Go Blue. I went to undergrad there, I went to medical school, I completed my residency in neurosurgery there. But also, my father went to Michigan. One of my daughters now goes there as well. And I gotta tell ya, one of the most indelible experiences of my life was several years ago when I delivered the undergraduate commencement address in the Big House. That is the largest outdoor stadium in the country. So this year, when the Wolverines asked me to deliver the 2026 commencement address to the medical school, I was honored, and I jumped at the chance. So today we have a special episode because I'd like to share that speech with you all. To all the recent grads, whether it's high school or college, or maybe you know someone studying hard to get in or just get through medical school. I wanna share a few lessons that I learned along the way. Even more than 30 years later, I never take for granted that the education afforded me the chance to say, I'm Dr. Sanjay Gupta, and this is Chasing Life.

Please help me welcome to the stage, Dr. Sanjay Gupta.

'Thank you. Wow. Thank you so much. I am delighted to be here. I have so much to say. I'll try and keep it somewhat brief because I know this day is all about you, but thank you, Dean Wang and Dr. Miller and the provost and the distinguished faculty. I'm kind of an old guy here now. A lot of these folks behind me are actually younger than I am, which is wild. Thanks to everyone who planned this magical day and to all the family members who are here. This is a tremendously big day for you as well. I realize that and I say that now as a father of college-age students. But most of all, Wolverines, class of 2026, congratulations, huge, huge congratulations for you. I gotta say, you know, every time I come here, I feel like I have come home. I've been to more than 100 countries now around the world -- every continent -- and this will always be home. That's the case for me. And I suspect that it will be the case for you as well, because you've now had this incredible shared experience. I did the same things that you guys did. I studied hard, had a lot of late nights, learned the science and art of medicine. And made some of the best friends of my life. I love being a Wolverine, so much so that I married a Wolverine; so much so that I am here today at Michigan on my wedding anniversary --today; so much so that she is here as well. That's what Wolverines do to celebrate. We come back to Ann Arbor to be with all of you. I am tremendously honored to be here. I am grateful at the opportunity to share a few words and frankly humbled that anyone really cares what I have to say. So let me start with this. You're now doctors. That's for life. No matter what you do from here on out, you're a doctor. Like it or not, it will probably be the most central tenet of who you are. And people will have all sorts of notions of who you are, what kind of person you are, what you are capable of doing. You'll become the doctor of every backyard barbecue. You'll be filled with questions about aching backs and strange rashes and even impotence. It will be amazing to you what people will suddenly be very comfortable sharing. Embrace that role. Never shy away from it. One group of people who will surprisingly not likely come to you as much as you would expect, however: your kids. As was mentioned, I have three teenagers. And if they have a medical problem, they go to mom. Mom's a lawyer. She's a divorce lawyer at that. Some of you, some people will just assume you became doctors because you're trying to get rich, which reminds me of one of my favorite quotes: "Going into medicine for the money is like having sex for the exercise." I want you to know that I care deeply about this, and I thought a lot about this address today, and I think out of all the people that I have, people that have a chance to address your years and your sensibilities and now your ability to do some incredible things in the world at a time when we desperately need it, I think it's taken on a greater sense of urgency. I don't want to put too much pressure on you. But I think your jobs and your role in society are more important than ever. In my estimation, you are the new guardians of the galaxy, and that is something that I wanted to talk about today. These are critical times. These are really important times, and I think no one should be content to just sit on the sidelines. It's been more than 30 years, now 33 years, since I graduated from medical school, and a lot of things have changed. The world is a tremendously different place. It's been wild to watch these transformations over the last few decades. We have more faith than ever before, and yet we are more suspicious as well. We value our freedom, and yet too often we live in fear. We spend more money on healthcare than in years past, and yet, we have still dropped in life expectancy. We can treat and even cure diseases we barely understood a quarter century ago. And yet too often, the people who would most benefit from these amazing therapies never have access to them. But here's the thing, you have the ability to now change that. You have the capacity to restore the faith, reverse some of those tragic trends and reassure people who will come to depend on you. It's an awesome task. It really is. It's awesome for society. And I think it's awesome for all of you personally as well. Because I got to tell you: There's gonna be times in your life where the trajectory of your life is gonna seem a little confusing, a little muddled, and at those times, you will come to appreciate just how important the clarion call of compassion can be. You get to wake up every morning knowing your purpose and your passion on this earth, and that is an enormous gift. It comes with obligations, as was mentioned. You have to protect the legacy of medicine. You have contribute to its growth. And most importantly, I think you need to always respect the sacred bond between you and your patients, making sure it stays sacred. There is no other relationship like this in society. Just think about that. Gotta be humble. Gotta soak yourself in the privilege of your profession, not the arrogance. Remember that there is ritual and tradition in caring for patients that's been passed down over hundreds of years. That's what you're now adopting. You'll get to stand there in your crisp white coat. Your patient is wearing a gown, typically paper or cloth, probably fumbling with the ties. You have your tools, your bright lights, and your hammers and your blades to shine, bang, and probe, and your patients will be worried, sensitive, and guarded. They may barely know you, but at that moment, you will be the most important person in their lives. It's the greatest privilege given by one human being to another, to care for them at their most vulnerable time. To restore them to health when their bodies have betrayed them, to take them to the brink of death if you have to, but then promise to bring them back in better condition than when you started. You know, I say all these things to you, and I gotta tell you, I realize you have a lot of things on your mind right now. You're thinking about the future, so a lot of what we're saying up here may not stick. I don't even remember my own commencement. I knew that it was important. I mean, typically, if you're wearing a robe at this time of day, either means you've totally given up on life or something important has happened. So what is it? What does this day mean to you, really? What does moment mean to your? How does it fit into the way that you view the world and the way you think the world is going to unfold over the next 30 years? What's gonna be your place in that ever-changing world? Well, here are a few things that I know now that I wished I knew then. You're in a period of explosive learning. And frankly, it's fun. It's fun to just learn like this. But some of the greatest lessons are gonna come on the fringes when you least expect it. And while no one wants to fail, those are when those lessons are extremely amplified and become the most enduring. For me personally, it was only when I became comfortable living in that world, when I could admit failure openly and even embrace it. Something incredible happened for me. I felt liberated. I felt like I was a real human, not a machine. And there's an irony in here, I think, that you're far more likely to be successful and more human if you let the world in on your foibles as much as your victories. The premium currency which we all value, even if we can't always define it, is that authenticity. And in a world increasingly dominated by artificial intelligence, I think you should focus on another type of AI. Which is authentic intelligence. So graduates, above all, be authentic, be human, in this most human of all professions. Another lesson, the right decision is always to be kind. I say this as a neurosurgeon, realizing we don't always have the best reputation when it comes to this. While it may not seem like it at the moment, and there's gonna be many sources of frustration and irritation in your lives, the arc of history is long. You always feel better if you made the decision to be kind. I've always found that in retrospect, for me, what bothers me about those irritating situations the most is how I reacted to them, even more so than the situation itself. So be kind, take the extra moment to touch, smile a lot, even use humor. As the great Maya Angelou once said, "People may not always remember what you said or maybe even what you did, but they will remember how you made them feel." Also, class of 2026, remember this: This is an important one. Don't spend your life continually trying to prove you are smart. I will say it, you're smart. You've proven it. So instead, spend your time trying to become wise now from here on out. It's a difference. Smart people, they may know the right answers. Wise people, they know the right questions. So class of 2026, spend your times asking the right questions. Even if they seem dumb. Because those are often the questions everyone else is too afraid to ask. And along the way, you may find that you are no longer someone who is just continuously memorizing the past, but instead, you start to become someone who is changing the future. Respect history, but don't be afraid to make some. Many years ago, I was covering a conflict, a war, in a faraway land. And I was embedded with this group of remarkable doctors colloquially known as the Devil Docs. They are the ones who run in, risk their lives, in order to save others. I was there as a journalist. But as I said, we are now all doctors first. And one day they came to me and they said that a young man, a lieutenant had been shot in the back of the head. They thought he had died, but now knew that he was alive and they asked if I would literally take off my journalist cap and put on my surgeon's cap. And the answer of course was yes. We didn't have much equipment in that dusty desert tent. So in order to do this operation on his brain, I used the Black and Decker drill, the same one we've been using to put up our tents. Not sure artificial intelligence would have come up with that. I decided then to use the inside of an IV bag to recreate the outer layer of his brain, performed an operation to remove the blood clot, the bone, and the bullet chips. After I was all done, I wrapped him up. Shortly thereafter, a Blackhawk helicopter landed and flew him away. And all I knew was his name, Jesús Vidaña. I wasn't sure I'd ever see him again. I wasn't sure that he was survived. It was the most intense hour and a half of my life. A few months later, I got a call. I was back home in the States. It was from a 619 area code, which I recognized as being San Diego. And the person on the other end of the line said, hey, is this Dr. Gupta? I have an update on one of your patients. And the first thing I said was, I think you might have the wrong Dr.Gupta. As it turns out, there's quite a few of us. He said, no, I think I got the right guy. Do you remember operating on Jesús Vidaña over in Iraq? And I said, yeah, sure. How do you forget operating on Jesus in the middle of the desert? Still, I didn't know what he was gonna say next. And he told me that Jesus had a little bit of left-hand weakness, but otherwise was doing well. And it was amazing. He told me I should come visit him sometime. So I was out in Southern California a couple weeks later and I decided to pay him a visit. He answered the door. Just handsome guy, strapping young Marine. And I was always blown away by how young the people are that safeguard our country. Young guy, full of life and vigor. I had only previously seen him beaten and battered on the desert floor. He gave me a hug and we walked into his house where he still lived with his parents and we started chatting. Few minutes later, his mom comes out and she's really sweet and she takes my hands and she holds them and she says, are you the guy that operated on my son? I said, yes ma'am, I am. And she says thank you and is really sweet about it. Few minutes late, her dad comes out. Dads are different, right? He looks at me and he says, are you that guy that operate on my sun? I said, yes, sir, I am. He said, 'And you're a journalist?' He hadn't gotten the whole story. But I realized something extraordinary as I sat down with them on that lazy Sunday afternoon. They had never really talked about it. They never talked about the fact that he'd gone through this life-altering, life-changing, potentially life-ending event because life gets procedural sometimes. Life goes on. And as I set there having the conversation, I realized I was enabling and empowering a conversation that would otherwise not be had. And I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say it was just as therapeutic in some ways as the operation that I had performed in the middle of the desert. It was human, it was authentic, and it's what you get to do now all the time, uniquely so. You're gonna save lives, you're gonna advance medicine, and you are gonna touch countless people you haven't even met yet. The world will change a lot over the next 30 years when you find yourself in the same position that I am today. So let me end with one more lesson. Make a pledge to yourself and to each other. Over the last four years, you have made some of the best friends you'll ever have in your life. That was certainly the case for me. Always answer their calls. Be there in their times of need. Fly around the world, graduates, for their weddings and the births of their children. Always be there for one another, and I promise you it will become one of the most precious touchstones you ever have in your life. Don't forget, graduates, the path that you've chosen is one that will always require not artificial intelligence, but authentic intelligence -- that uniquely human touch. Good luck. I love you, I am with you, and sweetheart, happy anniversary. Thank you so much for listening. To all the families and support systems that help their loved ones through their education, wherever on their journey they might be, thank you. We couldn't have done it without you. And of course, good luck to all the graduates out there, and go blue.