Seeking success? It might take a bit more selfishness, says Charles Assisi

The idea of selfishness as an essential catalyst for success started to emerge on a chase to engage with an acclaimed researcher, teacher and author based out of Silicon Valley. This was a man whose talent was undeniable. His prodigious research was cited by others to support their research, his books appeared routinely on bestseller charts, and his talks were blockbusters. To top it all, he was known as an extremely amiable person. Just how did he manage it all?

Despite all efforts, the amiable man stayed out of reach. Was he trying to avoid me? Could his calendar be as chock-a-block as he made out? A last-ditch attempt led to a friend whom the researcher had mentored in the past. And a different narrative emerged. The researcher was neither avoiding me nor was his calendar as packed as he projected it to be. Right now, the man I was trying to reach was operating in a hyper-focused zone.

When in this state, he was known to shut the world out totally, turn off all notifications on every device and even silence his phone. He barely used social media anyway, the friend said. What appeared on his timeline were scheduled one-liners designed to make him appear nice.

During periods of hyper-focus, he only acknowledged professional obligations that would take up less than 20 minutes each. And to ensure that family and friends did not intrude on this time, he would check into a local hotel.

As my friend spoke about other rituals the man practises to stay focused, I started to wonder: Why don’t I follow “best practices” such as these? It took a while to accept that I am not as privileged. My reality is different. I must reply to emails, and there are notifications I cannot ignore. While I do my damnedest to curtail the hours spent on social media, I do like to engage.

The truth is, each person’s reality is different, and everyone must choose for themselves.

To place that in perspective, a friend from Mumbai who worked in the travel industry recently told me she has had to sign up for two-year course to train as a teacher, after the pandemic upended her industry. While she does her damnedest to focus on the new curriculum, she must also care for her two young children. And there are pressures to be dealt with when a double-income family starts living on a single income.

Children need, and deserve, dedicated time and attention. Stress is causing this friend to sleep not as well as before. All this takes away from the hours available to her, and her ability to be hyper-focused. There is only so much selfishness she can practise in good faith. The boundaries of her privilege are stretched.

Even as I heard her speak, I realised that there are boundaries I can push because the kids have grown up and my wife doesn’t mind me vanishing into a zone for a while. That’s privilege. But do I have it in me to check into a hotel so I can work uninterrupted? I don’t. To that extent, the selfishness I can or will indulge in myself at this stage is limited.

Which means I must then ask: Am I satisfied with the success that my current levels of selfishness enable? If not, I will have to push the boundaries until I find my level of optimum selfishness — that point where I am focused on my goal and myself to the exclusion of all else, without yet feeling any discomfort.

I must admit the one thing I would change is the amount of time I sacrifice to unpleasant strangers on social media. And I’d fill that time not with work but with more of a real-world social life.