You want to know what doesn’t impress me? How much money you’ve made. And while we’re at it, how many followers you have on social media. Congratulations – you convinced a million strangers to press a button. That doesn’t mean you’re brilliant. That means you’ve mastered the algorithm, not the truth.
Because here’s the thing: money and followers, they’re loud. They’re shiny. They’re easy to count and even easier to fake. But they don’t tell me anything about who you are when the lights go off and no one’s watching.
I’ve seen con men with private planes and sociopaths with blue checkmarks. You can buy engagement, you can manufacture influence, and if you’re slick enough with your editing – hell, you can look like a prophet while selling snake oil.
And that’s the problem. We’ve confused virality with value. We’ve let liars build empires, as long as they do it with a ring light and a trending audio track.
Let me say it plainly: lying to make money isn’t smart. It’s not clever. It’s not savvy. It’s evil.
We’ve raised a generation to think that if you’re making millions while misleading people, you’re just “playing the game.” No. You’re rigging it. You’re rewriting the rules so truth comes in last.
And I get it – truth is slow. Integrity is inconvenient. Honesty doesn’t go viral. But here’s what intelligence actually looks like: knowing the truth, saying it anyway, and succeeding not because you manipulated the room, but because you respected it.
So no, I’m not impressed by the follower count in your bio. Show me how many people trust you when the stakes are high. Show me what you do when telling the truth costs you applause.
Don’t call the liars smart. Don’t call the cheats strategic. Intelligence isn’t a performance. It’s a principle.
You want to impress me? Tell the truth, and still find a way to succeed. That’s the game I’ll respect. That’s the one worth winning.