Reasons Not to Become Famous (2020)

November of 2008. I had more hair, a flip phone, and absolutely no idea what was coming. Let the cymbals of popularity tinkle still. Let the butterflies of fame glitter with their wings. I shall envy neither their music nor their colors. - John Adams Letters of John Adams Addressed to His Wife “If I’m not famous by 30, I might as well put a bullet in my head.” That’s an actual sentence I spoke to one of my closest friends. At the time, I was 28. Fortunately, unlike during my darkest period in college , I wasn’t serious about suicide. Nonetheless, the sentiment was real. I felt like I somehow needed fame. In retrospect, there was a lot of self-loathing from tough childhood experiences, and I desperately hoped that love from without (i.e., from masses of other people) would somehow make up for hate from within. As luck would have it, I got to test this hypothesis. The 4-Hour Workweek , my first book, was published in 2007. It hit the New York Times Hardcover Business bestseller list, where it stayed for an unbroken four years and four months. It was quickly translated into approximately 40 languages, and shit went bonkers. Everything changed. I was 29. Soon, I was engulfed in a hailstorm of both great and terrible things, and I was utterly unprepared for any of it. To kick off this post, let’s start with a real example from 2010. I vividly remember the day I received an email from someone we’ll call “James.” James was a frequent commenter on my blog, and we’d become friendly over time. He was a great guy and a huge help to other readers. I’d given him advice, he’d built a few successful businesses, and we’d developed a nice virtual rapport. That day in 2010, however, I actually received an email from James’ longtime assistant. It was succinct: “James learned so much from you, and he instructed me to give you this video.” I clicked on the attachment. James popped up. He was clearly agitated and clenching his jaw, making contorted faces and speaking strangely. He thanked me for all of my help over the years and explained that it had helped him through some very dark times. He finished by saying that he was sorry, but that he had to end things. That’s when he turned off the video and killed himself. This experience profoundly fucked me up for a long period of time. Suffice to say, I didn’t realize that this type of thing was part of the Faustian fame-seeking bargain. THE 30,000-FOOT VIEW Now it’s 2020. 13 years, 5 books, 1,000+ blog posts, and nearly 500M podcast downloads later, I’ve learned a few things about the promises and perils of seeking fame. And I say “seeking fame” deliberately, because-let’s be honest-I’m not really famous. Beyoncé and Brad Pitt are truly famous. They cannot walk around in public anywhere in the world. I am a micro public figure with a...

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