One of the things that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately has been the quote from Bruce Springsteen that has been making the rounds again on social media, lamenting that America has become a “joyless and rudderless” country. (He did say this more than 5 years ago, referring to the then-Trump administration, but it’s obviously still relevant today with orange traitor’s re-election.)

The sad part – I think what Springsteen says really hits home.

Since I got back from my trip to Japan, I’ve perhaps made the mistake of settling back into what seems to be a common routine in the U.S. – work, take a break, watch social media, go back to work, and repeat. In particular, it’s probably really bad that, ever since I got back, I’ve also tried to pay more attention to the content that comes through my feed on both Instagram and X (Twitter).

Joyless is an understatement if you really watch what’s being produced.

It’s either someone being outraged at someone else (in the case of X, typically), insulting them, or putting someone down. Or it’s some influencer on IG looking amazing in some beautiful part of the world, basically inviting more people to “look at more pictures of me.”

You know, the accounts that are put in front of you by some algorithm. You walk away feeling really empty. The reason? It feels like you’re just watching a continuous loop of self-involved people.[1] And I think this is part of what we see now with the joylessness of today’s modern existence. Years ago, we frowned on self-serving behavior. Now, our culture elevates others who only seemingly care for themselves. And have no apologies for it.  

Have We Changed? Or Have We Always Been This Way?

Maybe, as people, we haven’t changed all that much, but we just now see “more” of everyone and their true selves. Maybe we’ve always been this way. But we’re also subject to a lot more misinformation and gaslighting that can skew our view of others, making us more inward, suspicious, and less trusting.

I don’t know.

What I will say is that the America many of us grew up in felt a lot different than today. The “feeling” was different to be alive, say in the ‘80s or ‘90s.  

There was actually hope and promise – even during recessions and bad times. You could believe in your future and, most of all, your potential to own a home or be in charge of your own destiny. You could afford things so money wasn’t always priority one.

And yeah, we used to do things for the love of it. Not always just for the money or to become “best at it,” which seems to be what everyone encourages now in order to stand out. People just had hobbies or interests. No one judged them on it because no one else had to know about them.   

The culture encouraged connecting in different ways with different types of people as well as learning about other places and cultures because there was a curiosity about new things and that’s what people did.

We rooted for underdogs to succeed.

We were never perfect, but every year as we went along, it felt like we were on the path to improving people’s lives, regardless of race, orientation, gender, etc.

There was joy in that. Somewhere along the way, it feels like we lost that path.[2]

How to Rediscover Joy: Help Someone Else Do Well

What strikes me about the current administration is how nasty they are to “others.” Whether it’s other countries, immigrants, people who aren’t “like them,” or people who don’t believe the way they do. They attack, arrest, belittle outsiders, and go after our own allies for literally no reason.

I’m not suggesting that all of the people they’re going after are all innocent. But whatever your argument, they’re taking an approach that engenders no goodwill from anyone else. It’s a “me, me, me” and “me-and-my-money” path to everything. And that’s part of the emptiness isn’t it?   

I’ve always said this but the real joy lies in helping others succeed. Let me explain.

Over the course of people’s lives, they’ll likely hear advice from many people – and many good people, some family and friends who will suggest to you, that in one way or another, life is indeed about what you want. And it will come across as rather harmless. They will tell you to “follow your dream” and “do what you love.”

And yes, I would tend to agree with them that, if the picture is about you in isolation, you should certainly “do what you love.” But what happens if you take that “me, me, me” approach or focus only on getting money? At the end of the day, you followed your dream and did what you wanted. Maybe you succeeded. But who’s there to celebrate with you?  

 If you’ve ever seen the film Jerry Maguire, about a sports agent played by Tom Cruise, there’s a great line that people often overlook primarily because the most quoted passages come shortly after it — but it’s no less memorable. The background for the scene is that Jerry Maguire, the sports agent, broke away from his established firm to start his own business with Dorothy Boyd, the woman loyal to him whom he married.

But both the startup and his marriage turned out to be harder than he probably expected. Near the end of the film, he comes home after the athlete he represents made a name for himself by scoring a big, dramatic touchdown, and he said the following to Dorothy: “Our little company had a good night tonight. A really big night. But it wasn’t complete, it wasn’t nearly close to being in the same vicinity as complete, because I couldn’t share it with you. I couldn’t hear your voice or laugh about it with you. I missed my wife.”[3]    

The point is — at least I would argue to you — is that the really great things in life aren’t done because you follow a dream and achieve it – or even that you make a lot of money. The great moments happen because you share a sense of happiness in that achievement with someone else or that you ended up helping someone who needed it, regardless of whether you got paid for it. That’s actually the real joy.

Marketing Nice Guys: Why We Approach Our Business the Way We Do

If you asked Boney or me what really drives us, sure, money is a consideration. We have to make a living. And we want to get paid fairly for what we do. But really, our focus is about trying to help clients make the right decisions or do the right things they’ll need to succeed. We want to see good people who have good businesses (that also help people in some way) do well. That’s why we don’t charge for all the consultations or why we sometimes provide free help to non-clients in the form of advice or strategy.

In other words, there’s value to us in that – a joy we feel in knowing we helped someone do better. And we truly believe if we do those things consistently, we’ll get paid for it somehow. The goal isn’t really money in that regard. It’s to do a job well enough where you’re making a difference in someone’s life that matters. 

I always say it’s the same thing with teaching. The reason I teach digital marketing at the Georgetown School of Continuing Studies isn’t the money. (Anyone who’s been an adjunct can certainly tell you that!) No, the real reason is that you can help students understand a concept or have a lightbulb moment they may not have had without you. The greatest part: When students come up to me and tell me that my class impacted their career and what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. When I hear things like that, it’s truly joyful. I feel like I did something good.    

There are those out there, I’m sure, who might scoff at such sentiments. Those so-called realists who’d rather make their money first, be ruthless to others, cheat their partners or their customers in some way, so that they maximize their own gain. That’s fine on the one hand. To each his own, after all.

But aren’t we in the situation we’re in as a country because of that attitude? This joyless “me, me, me” approach to everything. Maybe a little less of that would do us all some good.

[1] And look, if there was any question, I don’t mean my friends’ updates. The one good thing about social media is that it helps you stay up to date with the things that are going on people’s lives who you know. I think that part is actually very positive.

[2] And yes, of course, some of this still exists, but we’re so divided today that there’s a lot less of it out there.

[3] The scene is a famous one in movie history. The two often-quoted phrases happen right after when Jerry adds: “You complete me.” And then Dorothy Boyd (Renee Zellweger’s character) responds: “Shut up. Just shut up. You had me at hello.”