Why People Seem More Impressive Than They Actually Are

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Xavier Reynolds is a 12-year-old entrepreneur and founder of Trisocure LLC, a synthetic data firm based in Nashville, Tennessee. After being born with Down syndrome, Reynolds was found to grasp subjects in advanced math and science rapidly as a toddler. He later founded Trisocure at age 10 to create artificial genetic data in order to contribute to genetic research. He has since published two books, which have sold over 100,000 copies and been translated into 20 languages.

What an impressive kid, right? I dreamt him up in a few minutes to spite all of you who have low self-esteem. Yes, I’m that mean. Notice that my description sounds uncomfortably familiar to countless others who are successful. The issue with these descriptions is that, in trying to provide personal backgrounds and glorify people, they are disingenuous. I’m not saying that they’re all a sham and I get that picturesque depictions of people entice audiences, but there are blatant problems with this presentation.

First, all you can tell about a person from their description is what is in the description (I know I’m smart for observing that). For all you know, if a kid cures cancer, they might be covertly moonlighting as a serial killer who deliberately targets cancer patients. That means there is usually a caveat to the typical success stories celebrated in the media. Does that mean every billionaire lucked out on an idea? Certainly not. But does that mean people’s success could be influenced by luck? Certainly. Don’t make positive or negative assumptions about people. Instead, take logical, constructive insights from the adolescent trillionaires you envy. 

Second, the effort involved in these achievements is grossly exaggerated. The impressiveness of achievements is chiefly what elicits adulation. That’s why binging Netflix is not as admirable as creating a nonprofit organization—nobody cares about your Netflix binge. "Impressiveness" includes inexplicability, perceived difficulty, and perceived value. Notice that all of these are dependent on public perception. If you start a nonprofit, for instance, that exudes an impression of initiative, intelligence, and charitability. That impression is ostensible. Maybe you merely filed for a nonprofit and haven’t done anything. Maybe you dedicated yourself, showed initiative and displayed a collaborative spirit. Either way, you don’t need to be a prodigy to start a nonprofit, and I’ve observed that many lauded accomplishments are genuinely the product of initiative and dedication. Forgo brooding over your cousin’s acceptance to Harvard and begin doing stuff. Reach out to people. Find an endeavor you want to commit to because initiative is far more productive than jealousy. And instead of focusing on alluring accolades which may never fulfill you, focus on immersing yourself in the process. 

Finally, success stories egregiously fail to mention fruitless failures. Sure, most success stories emphasize determination, but that’s in the context of triumph. Some failures hardly edify people. In fact, there are people who could have been more successful had they failed less, even if no one considers it. Moreover, some failures arise not on the proverbial path to success but in the failure to pursue such a path. Entrepreneurial success stories in particular focus on the failures that lie "on the path." Imagine if Zuckerberg never decided to innovate and became a recluse for the remainder of his life out of laziness. That is a starkly different failure from Facebook’s many historical setbacks. I believe that "About the author" pages in books ought to also list unglamorous failures. For example, that fictional Reynolds kid’s "About the author" section at the end of one of his nonexistent books could add, "He also wastes time on social media every day and has ruts where he binges video games nonstop." Doesn’t that seem more realistic?