The Courage To Care

Most of the world is stuck in spectator mode. 

God forbid someone accuses you of trying. Of believing in something. Of sticking your head above the parapet to say “I’m doing something and I’d like your attention and support because I think it might be slightly better than average.”

Success lands in the laps of those who continue to try irrespective of the likelihood, insecurity and potential embarrassment—despite the cringe and silence.

Take podcasting as an example: already the butt of a thousand jokes. “Oh, I bet they have a podcast.” Sources show that if you rack up over 30 downloads in the first few days, you’re in the top 50% of podcasters number-wise. Another (questionable) source suggests you only need to publish 21 podcasts to put you in the top 1% of output, because the other 99% falter before they reach blackjack.

This speaks to two things: most people don’t care about your tiny podcast, and most people give up before any chance of anything occurs.

When Did You Stop Trying

You should read The Q Factor. There is no correlation between age and success. The correlation comes from shots on target. How often you’re willing to give things a go; how frequently you repeat your efforts.

"It's not the note you play that's the wrong note – it's the note you play afterwards that makes it right or wrong," - Miles Davis

Now that is cool.

A friend spoke to me the other day about the indescribable brilliance of old music, in reference to the late Ozzy Osbourne. How he was a rare breed who leaned into imperfection. Today’s world, enhanced by AI, places the polished on the pedestal. No missteps, no vocal fry, no mistakes, just uncanny, saccharine, polished mimicry. 

That’s why some Substack writers are publishing posts entirely in lowercase to bristle against a world that’s buffing out the dents that forge personality. Where imperfection is edited out like it’s offensive. 

It feels like earnestness has been weaponised in 2025. Something particularly accentuated in Britain. Everything becomes a meme, a joke, a castigation. It’s easier to constantly take the piss than it is to show up in a vulnerable state and let people in. What it really is, is courage. When we expose our soft underbelly, risk judgement, and relieve ourselves of the pressure of impression management, we simply lean into the truth that we all want to try and succeed.

Only when we're on the mountaintop do we ram our victory down the throats of anyone in a 5k radius. That's when we airbrush the doubt, effort and uncertainty to make it appear as if it was all destined. On the ascent? We're coy. We shouldn't be.

The veneration of effortlessness is in full effect. Drop-shipping with a glossy brand to discount the lack of toil. Online courses that train people to sell online courses that teach us nothing we don’t already know. Books written by computers with a human’s name on the front.

People don’t float through life creating, building, succeeding without ever sweating. What looks effortless onstage is often the result of routines, repairs and relentless prep no one ever sees. The artists who glide through galleries spent years locked away honing their craft.

The marketing has trumped the mastery. We’re split into a global tradeshow: the exhibitors and the audience.

The Try-Hards Are The Winners

In real life, the people who make their mark are the ones immersed in their passions. The ones who make us feel a little uncomfortable because of how deeply they care. Those who push back. Who light up when a certain topic or person arrives in conversation.

There’s interesting research correlating passion with all kinds of performance, from physical prowess to physical health, relationships and general competence.

The ones who rub people up the wrong way because they have the gall to try.

The ‘60’s brought us so much. It was the first generation to shake off the stuffy shackles of yesteryear and let people, for better or worse, lean into their individuality. Postmodernism brought with it a cynicism of the established truths. At the time this was a liberating ideology that broke free from the shackles of entrenched certainties. Sixty years later, today, this pessimism is “the song of the prisoner who’s come to love his cage.” Sentiment and earnestness are seen as awkward. They aren’t.

They’re cool.

How often do we couch what we truly want for fear of failure? How often does what’s in our mind pass through a thick filter of learned minimisation and societal reprisal?

Fitness is the perfect foundation for this. We wouldn’t spend hours reading about fitness and then expect to run quicker or lift heavier. Yet we have this approach to other stuff in life… we imbibe self-help tomes, watch business podcasts and talk/think endlessly about what we want to do as if it has any merit towards the task itself.

We don’t avoid fitness events because we’re unlikely to win. Nearly nobody’s expecting to win the London marathon, or place at a Hyrox event. But hundreds of thousands of us do them every year. So why take that approach to a hobby, passion or business? 

We allow ourselves to attempt in certain arenas, then talk ourselves out of doing so in others. We cower at the thought of being perceived as somebody who tries, paralysed by the deafening silence of nascent movement. Unable to push through the zeroes, or single-digit engagements with ideas that light us up — halting our potential at the mere possibility of someone else's judgement.

Because to care about something deeply is to be seen. And to be seen is to risk being misunderstood.

Be the One Who Dares

It’s endlessly easier to critique a piece of art, or a business idea, or an unrealistic endeavour, than it is to do it yourself. And then to have the temerity to share it? To ask people to pay, listen, to read, or care? Who do you think you are?

Exactly.

That’s the voice you need to ignore.

This piece is a two-pronged effort. First, to encourage you to do whatever it is that you feel compelled to do—James Hillman calls it the acorn. Twee Pinterest artworks state “If it’s your calling, it will keep calling.” It’s different for all of us. But you know what it is. Perhaps you’re already on the path. More likely, you’re stuffing it down each day and continuing on regardless.

Second, to lift those up who are in pursuit of this lane. Performance stretches beyond a self-centred idea of who we should be. It extends to who we hope those close to us can/ will/ should be, too.

So do the thing. The one that won’t leave you alone. Then support those who are doing theirs.

The people who win are persistent. They’re the ones who got laughed at, ignored, downvoted, and kept going. They didn't hide their quirks. They don't dumb themselves down to fit in. They didn’t soften the edges to stay digestible.

They gave a shit. And they didn’t stop.