Confession: I had never heard of this guy, but here he was, as I’m watching my favorite morning show, “CBS Sunday Morning.” Actually, I was barely watching, mainly listening while in the kitchen brewing coffee.
But then…
Benny Blanco, of all people of whom I’ve never heard, caught my attention. Yup, this 38-year-old man had something to teach this 73-year-old curmudgeon.
Imagine that.
Let’s start with the title of his book: F*ck Failure. I was intrigued by the title (who wouldn’t be?), but also by its implicit message.
Actually, I eventually learned that the message was pretty direct: failure, according to Blanco, only happens when you fail to say “yes” to an opportunity that’s right in front of you.
There are many reasons why, says Blanco. One of the biggest is fear of failing, the “what if I fail,” rather than the “what if I succeed” approach to one’s career, that can actually be applied to one’s approach to life.
Then he added the one “note” that really made me think.
It was a piece of advice from his own life that was both simple and complex. As he failed over and over again, he just kept going.
He worked harder and, well, smarter. And he didn’t stop. He just kept going.
Eventually he noticed that there weren’t as many competitors in his field as there once were. Many, he began to notice, had fallen by the way side. By contrast, he had kept moving forward.
Where were all those, once everywhere, who were now nowhere to be seen or found?
He reasoned that they had given up. Maybe out of fear of failure. Maybe for monetary reasons. Maybe for a million other reasons, but they had given up where he had not.
It made me think about my own career trajectory. First, it was radio, then television, then academia. At each stage of each career, I never believed I was the smartest or most talented guy among the many others around me.
But I just kept going, picking up on cues by others, learning not only from their mistakes, but also my own.
To call me an overachiever would be a fair characterization, but persistent and pernicious might be closer to the truth.
When I started in my first tenure-track academic job, I was afraid I’d fail. Because the tenure system is so heavily weighted toward publication, especially in peer reviewed research journals.
I recall asking the dean who hired me, “how many publications are needed to gain tenure?” He looked at me and said something I’ll never forget: “That depends. If we want to tenure you, it’s ‘X.’ If we don’t, it’s “X+1.”
In my nearly four decades in higher education, I never again heard a more honest, transparent answer from an academic. And I never forgot it.
I set out to be the “+1.” As years went on (it takes up to seven to become a tenured professor), I noticed that there were fewer faculty members still around the university. Sometimes I’d ask, “what happened to Bob or Barbara?”
The answer, as I now look back, was often some variation of “they gave up.”
It reminds me now of the greeting from the dean of our daughter’s law school on day one. “Look to your left and look to your right,” he told the assembled first year students. “At least one won’t be here in two years.”
The gamechanger? It’s exactly what Benny Blanco figured out. It’s, at base, a version of Darwinism, with one exception: those on our left and right aren’t predetermined by their origins, but by their will.
The will to accept we will fail.
The will to learn when we do.
The will to stick around.
The will to move forward.
The will to say yes.
The will to reject no.
There’s a lot a 38-year-old rapper/music producer/non-college grad can teach a college professor.
And this one has.
