“If you knew you would never get credit for any of your accomplishments, what kind of work dedicate your life to?” (Credit to Patrick O’Shaughnessy* for prompting this line of thought). Assume that answers can be as noble (or not) as you want, whether you want to fight poverty, or write the world’s funniest joke. The only thing that matters is the impact you want to have on the world (by the way, feel free to share what you’d do in the comments section below). I don’t bring this up to make a case for any particular answer. Instead, I want to point out how useful this question is in illuminating the role of ego in your thought process.
It’s amazing to me how much more selfless and ego-free I can be in a hypothetical situation than in real life. Thinking within the magical box this question creates, I come to pretty different conclusions than I would normally. For instance, if I used a pen name and wrote a best-seller, or if I took my name off both my website and podcast, it theoretically wouldn’t make a difference because I love the work I’m doing. The thoughts I want to put into the world ought to be the same whether or not I get credit for them. Likewise, if I were rich, or were close friends with a bunch of interesting, famous people, it shouldn’t matter whether anybody knew. Most of the value ought to come from directly enjoying these things, rather than casually mentioning them to astonished friends.
But when it comes to real life, I’m back inside my flawed, selfish brain with my distorted motivations. It’s important again that people like me and find me interesting to listen to. I start worrying about whether I’ll seem successful enough to prove that pursuing this dream was a good idea. And then I find that egoistic thinking tempts me to take shortcuts and behave insincerely. It starts mattering how important someone is, rather than whether there’s a chance at developing a rewarding relationship. It clutters my mind with nonsense and makes me a lot less happy.
Ultimately, I think this question is useful in two ways. First, it can offer an honest assessment of your susceptibility to ego (mine is huge). If there’s a big disconnect between how you normally think, and how you would function in total anonymity, you should probably be careful of the extent to which ego might drive your decisions.
Secondly, this question acts as a nonsense-eliminator. It highlights what you actually want to do, rather than how you want to be seen. Do you want to practice medicine, or do you only want the affluence and respect that goes with being a doctor? I think most people (especially young people choosing their first careers) would do well to try out this kind of thinking.
*Inspiration for this question came from David Salem, a guest on Patrick O’Shaughnessy’s podcast, “Invest Like the Best.” (You can find the original question at http://investorfieldguide.com/salem/ near the 13:25 minute mark). David’s inspiration came shortly after learning of a terrible climbing accident on Mt. Everest. He wondered, “would people go to the top of Everest with all the risk that entails, if the universe had a law that said that when they when they got back down from the summit they could never talk about it, so that it would remain confidential and secret forever?”