The best professors I have met, top of their industry, at Penn, can be lauded in their fields and have their names unheard of otherwise. Charlie Kirk is seen as great in some folks eyes, and clearly not in others. In many American suburbs, these figures mean nothing to the average American. The average American diligently plods through their papers, goes home at 5 pm, prays for a short commute and a lovely dinner with family, and sleeps, and floats through the mundaneness and mediocrity of a gated (if lucky) community.
We look at Steve Jobs as if he was Apple’s secret ingredient in their design. There was a time we lauded Elon Musk, only to carefully dissect his childhood and realize his entire career has been that of a fearful boy. The greats were also once — and may still be — angry at their parents, sleeping through their alarms, lost in school subjects they didn’t understand.
If we were tech figures, why would a writer regard us as great? If we were the most civically responsible cops and the most commited-to-inspiration middle school teachers, it is unlikely that many in society would think of us as great. Greatness as perceived by others is esoteric, ever-evolving, and unattainable by definition.
Core to ambition is the desire to be great. In our minds’ stories of our lives, we assign meaning arbitrarily, and strive towards some destination. For so many, the ends are arbitrary societal constructs. Become a doctor or a lawyer! Found a unicorn! Be brave and have good moral character! All of these are arbitrary, and all of these have interpretations that are not great. The badge collector is not great.
Core to the concept of greatness lies a pedestal on which the beholder places certain traits and accomplishments above others. This introduces a certain amount of bias into the beholder’s work. The founder who believes truthfulness is great may overshare in their PR, and the local policymaker who believes altruism is great may spend too much time cutting red tape for individuals they have met in their counties.
Greatness is an inherently egoistic concept, and I hope we have evolved past the point in this country to still be propelled by such chaotic and emotional drivers to make progress.
American Dynamism overlooks one key factor in a collected and civilized society. The personal drive and ambition, the individualism that gave a young America its competitive edge, worked, but was messy. The underdog mentality lit a fire in frontiers-people. This same underdog mentality is not as helpful today. Founders are not our frontiers-people, because there have been many before them. It is much easier to get mentorship as a founder today than it was 50 years ago, especially when building within a well established vertical.
But it has been enough time in the course of American history for us to become a reasonably developed country. America does not need more dynamism. America needs a strategic plan. America needs calm, collected wayfinders.
If America needs calm wayfinders, the perverse egoistic joy of conventional greatness is no longer accessible. What do the calm wayfinders do?
It was once a great trait to build something from nothing, but understand that deriving happiness from the muddy is a fundamentally great skill. We are still building. We’re building a civil society. We must plod on, find joy, and make magic.