Impressiveness = hard + rare - context

A good friend is cycling across South America, enduring exhaustion, boredom, and pain – just so he can tell people he did it. When I asked if he’d still do it if no one could ever know, he hesitated. Probably not.

That stopped me. Isn’t travel supposed to be about exploration and joy? This sounded like the kid who deliberately breaks his arm just to show off the cast. Pain in exchange for attention while possibly missing out on the real joys.

Then I realized I’m doing this too. In fact, we all are like that, sometimes breaking our (metaphorical) bones for approval and validation. But for whom?

Who are you trying to impress?

When I asked other friends this question, who they were trying to impress, something interesting happened: No one could tell me! It was always an opaque group of people, like "society", "people like me", or "people I respect". They are ghosts you don’t know personally – and they may not even exist.

This becomes absurd once you go through pain and suffering only to impress others. The achievements feel empty if they’re not building up to something. We all do it sometimes, yes – but is this the way you want it to be?

At the same time, society tells you that you should do things primarily for yourself. Not care about the opinion of others. That, ideally, your motivation is 100% intrinsic. But we are hardwired to enjoy the attention of others, and being impressive is a great way to get it. Because sometimes it does give us meaning, like when you finally get to tell people about your adventures – your two minutes of glory about two months of suffering.

Impressiveness = hard + rare - context

So when do we find something impressive?

Something is impressive when it’s difficult to do and not many people do it. But depending on the context, it can be more or less impressive.

Impressiveness = hard + rare - context

Playing guitar is impressive to most people, unless you’re in a room full of professional musicians. Speaking three languages sounds incredible, unless you live in India, where it’s normal.

When you remove or change any of those components, it becomes less impressive:

• Hard: If you could achieve this instantly without effort, would it still matter to you?
• Rare: Would you still do it if everyone did this?
• Context: If you could never tell anyone about this accomplishment, would you still pursue it?

Chasing impressiveness is like chasing sugar. It’s a shortcut your brain loves, but it’s not the real thing you need. You don’t crave sweets for their own sake, you crave energy, nutrients, and pleasure. Impressiveness works the same way. It’s a heuristic for seeking growth (difficulty), security (scarcity), and connection (context).

Rebalancing the equation

But if being impressive is just a shortcut to some deeper needs – growth, security, and connection – then why not go straight to the source? For example:

• Growth: Learning for the sake of mastery, not status
• Security: Finding fulfillment in stability, not external validation
• Connection: Building relationships based on authenticity, not performance

I’d argue that once you take care of these needs, impressiveness becomes less of a priority, similar to how you’re less interested in sweets when you’re well-fed.

Impressiveness is a moving target. What seems remarkable today is ordinary tomorrow, and the people you try to impress are often just ghosts in your head. The ghosts don't hold your hand when you struggle. They aren't there to witness your quiet triumphs, and they won't remember you.

Only real people can do that, people who care about you, not your impressiveness.