I Don't Want to Take Over the World
Some people expect more from me. Sometimes, I expect more from myself. While success breeds success, it also spawns expectations—praise and accolades build like steam in a pot.
I’m often asked about my plans for entrepreneurial world domination. Sometimes, I even start working on the blueprints until the ghost of Adam Smith reminds me of the trade-offs involved. Fellow entrepreneurs ask about hiring plans, revenue growth projections, and exit strategy. They expect me to aim for the stars.
But my responses disappoint; I’m content right here on earth. I’m not currently looking to hire. Revenue goals don’t preoccupy my thoughts. And my exit strategy is to wait and see. I know, BORING.
I don’t drink from a “hustle or die” coffee mug.
I don’t start my day by thumping my chest like in the infamous scene from The Wolf of Wall Street (great flick, by the way).
And “mastermind” groups, aggressive growth hacks, and hard-sell referral schemes fail to inspire me.
You might ask, “James, don’t you want to be more successful”?
I pose a question in return: “Compared to what?”
Naval Ravikant said:
“When you’re jealous of someone, you can’t just cherry-pick and choose little aspects of their life. You can’t say I want his body, I want her money, I want his personality. You have to BE that person…If you’re not willing to do a wholesale, 24/7, 100% swap with who that person is, then there is no point in being jealous.”
Through this lens, there’s not a person on this planet who I’m jealous of.
Warren Buffett is a god-like figure in investing. People worship his every word and mimic every trade. To be compared to him is the ultimate compliment, and criticizing him is blasphemous.
But his family grew up around him while he worked obsessively alone in his study. A friend even described his wife as “sort of a single mother.” By my calculation, he missed on life’s most critical trade.
I joined my wife and daughter at a children’s museum this morning. Watching my daughter’s curiosity come alive is priceless. I could douse my business in rocket fuel, but speed blurs these special moments. I want to enjoy the scenery; my daughter will only insist on calling me Daddy Pig for so long (thanks for nothing, Peppa Pig). World domination will have to wait.
Few would favorably compare my success with Buffett’s, but I’m doing pretty well by my metrics. I get to work hard, but not too much, on meaningful things. I have time for family, creative projects, and wellness. And I have intelligent clients who are like friends.
“Why own businesses if you aren’t looking to take over the world?”
I’ve seen how growth traps many founders. The more they achieve, the more their original motivations become tangled in the hyper-growth web.
Take independence, for instance. Many break free from employment to escape corporate confines. They pursue liberation from the monotony of desk-bound routines and sacrificing family time for “the good of the company.” Yet, as their businesses thrive, they find themselves again chained to their desks, missing special family moments, and overwhelmed by stress. No thanks.
For me, independence means the liberty to grow at any pace, even slowly. It’s freedom from arbitrary targets and validation rituals. It’s decoupling my self-worth from the pecking order. It’s morning trips to the playground with my daughter, coffee breaks with my wife, and weekly tennis sessions with my Dad.
Economist Thomas Sowell observed, “There are no solutions. There are only trade-offs.” Every path chosen leaves a trail of unexplored alternatives. I could’ve landed a whale of a client had I spent the morning calling prospects—instead, I watched Natalie board a rocket, initiate a countdown, and imaginatively launch into outer space, where she was thrilled to be among the constellations (pronounced con-stu-way-shuns).
Might I harbor regrets on my deathbed for not relentlessly pursuing business growth? Possibly. But forgoing time with family, creative projects, and personal health in the name of business will lead to deeper remorse.
Stoic Roman emperor and philosopher Marcus Aurelius said, “It is not death that a man should fear, but rather he should fear never beginning to live.” For me, living isn’t defined by hockey stick business growth. My path won’t impress everyone, but I’m not trying to take over the world, just my little corner of it. For me, that’s success enough.
