You’re Not That Important

Credit: Jason Jenkins

When I was working for a large nonprofit, there was a colleague of mine who had to make a big presentation to our board. She had been working on this project for a while and it was her chance to share her work and get the board’s feedback.

This was going to be the first time she had presented to the board, and the first time presenting to any leadership body. Understandably, she was nervous. I was talking to her about it and she was telling me how anxious she was. I responded, before I could even think about it:

“Oh, don’t worry. You’re not that important.”

Yes - maybe not the nicest thing to say to a colleague and friend. But, it’s a phrase I use a lot in my own self-talk, as well as with my wife when we’re discussing high-stress moments in our careers. We say it to each other as somewhat of a reminder to not get too worked up about something that, usually, is not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. 

I have also started to say it to my clients more and more. I say it with love, and I hope it’s interpreted that way, but I do think many authors, or would-be authors, need to recognize that they are not that important, in the big-picture, existential trajectory of our lives. Many get very worked up and focused on the “right” way to say something in an op-ed, or how to best position a chapter in their book. They can spend so much time spinning that they make perfect the enemy of the good - and publish nothing. 

I tell my clients that they are not that important, not because they aren’t incredible, inspiring people. They all are. They all have super important, critical things to say. That’s why I’m working with them - to help them tell their stories and elevate their profiles. But they also need to remember that, in the vastness of our content-filed lives, their positioning can only ever take up a small portion of that landscape. (After all, most books sell fewer than 300 copies.) 

While that mindset may seem depressing, in my experience, it’s actually quite freeing for people. If nothing matters, on the whole, then people are able to choose what matters most to them and work towards those goals. 

Many clients (not to stereotype, but particularly the older and more traditional ones) think that there are some kind of linear steps they need to take to “make it” in today’s media market. If they post regularly on LinkedIn, or land an op-ed in The Wall Street Journal, or get on TV, or get a Big Five book deal, or ... they'll capture a massive audience and everything will flow from there, nice and easy.

It doesn’t work like that. Maybe it never did - I don’t know - but it certainly doesn’t work like that now. You can spend all day on LinkedIn and get nowhere. You can get a primetime spot on cable news, and the next day, see your email subscribers go up about the same amount as it always does. 

Or, you can choose to really focus on what you want to do, and why, and figure out how to get there. You can see success as a placement in a very wonky policy journal that leads you to a new pipeline of customers. You can work on a podcast strategy because you know that’s where your target audience is. 

Because, when it comes down to it, you’re not that important and no one really cares what you have to say. What people want is something that makes a difference in their own lives. You have to show them that whatever you are doing or writing or speaking about matters to them. If what you have to say doesn’t resonate with someone, or even a whole lot of someones, that’s ok. There are a lot more people out there to reach, and you shouldn’t waste time worrying about the people who aren’t that interested in what you have to say. 

That’s the great upside of a never-ending content stream: There’s always another chance. If something you published didn’t get you what you wanted, then great! Now you know not to do that again. You can tweak your strategy and try again tomorrow. If we live in a world where you aren’t that important, that means you get to decide what’s important to you, and go for whatever that thing is. 

Luckily, my colleague and friend interpreted my comment about her big presentation in the right way: As an empowering message to allow her to make the presentation her own, not what she thought the board members would want to hear. She stopped worrying about how she would be perceived, and more about what she felt like was going to be the best presentation, on her own terms. (And, the presentation did end up going very well.)

When I tell my clients they aren’t that important, I want them to have the same reaction as she did: What they do only matters to the extent they care about it, so they can and should do whatever they want. They can literally do or say whatever matters most to them, so they should focus on that, rather than what they think someone else wants to hear.

So, I’ll say it to you, too: You aren’t that important. What are you going to do about it?