Backup Plans Are Bullshit

In my experience, backup plans are bullshit.

Whenever I've had a backup plan in my life, it's led to some level of personal mediocrity.

Why? Maintaining a backup plan takes almost as much effort (if not more), than what I'm truly passionate about.

By deciding that I'm both going to have a goal in life, and a backup plan if that goal doesn't work out, means that I end up dividing my time between something that I do want and like to do, and something that I think is safe.

When we think of backup plan jobs, they're all jobs that are widely accepted has jobs that are easy to do.

When there is an easy job, there will be a line to get it.

Safe goals are actually harder to obtain than the insane goals that I set for myself. For example, getting a barista job in Portland is one of the hardest things to do, because everyone in Portland wants to be a barista if their 'unrealistic' goal to be a writer or musician or whatever doesn't work out.

I've always had an easier time getting a response when I'm doing something insane that no one else would do, than when I'm doing something that everyone has the ability to do. If it's easy, everyone will do it, so it's not worth pursuing.

Having a backup plan means that I'm going to give up exactly at the moment when trying to achieve the objective that I'm passionate about is hardest. When I'm in what Seth Godin calls The Dip, I'm liable to give up and go hit up my backup plan. I think my backup plan is going to make me feel better. Even though, ultimately, it won't.

When I first was hired at New York Magazine as an Intern years ago, I was still working at the Apple retail store on 5th Avenue. I was miserable at Apple, but for a few weeks I kept it as a backup plan. Then, I realized that I couldn't do both jobs at the same time. My backup plan job was hurting my ability to do impressive work at New York.

So, one day I emailed my boss at Apple, and told him that I was never coming back again. I never heard back. Apparently there was another person in line for my backup job.

This is why I think backup plans are bullshit. Not only because backup plans are illusions, but also because almost everything I think is a backup plan is actually a job that can be done by anyone. Whenever I've had a job that could be done by anyone, I've commodified myself.

I don't want to be a commodity.

A few people were incredibly concerned about my well being when I said that I was taking all of my products off the market while I worked on new projects. What if my new book flops? What if no one cares? What if Minimalist Business was the best thing I've ever written?

Here's what I say: those books are great. But they're a backup plan. If my new book doesn't make it, it's easy for me to go back and start selling copies of Minimalist Business again.

This opens a paradox, because by dedicating half of my attention to my old work, I've made it twice as likely that my new book will be half as good. Why? I'm splitting my attention between my backup plan and what I truly want to create for the world.

Publishing has changed. There's no reason why an author can't untether from old work in order to move into the future.