GOOD WORK: A GREAT READ

A Review of Paul Millerd's Book

At 21, I had an extended years-long panic attack. Am I destined for a prestigious seeming, but actually bullshit job where I turn into a client-charming zombie? I wish I could turn back time and give my younger self a copy of

Paul Millerd

’s Good Work, which was released yesterday. Paul makes the case that good work — activities or missions that make us feel alive  — can be a path to prevent me from zombifying in the future. Moreover, embracing good work might be far more ambitious than all my dreams of retiring to the beach at the ripe old age of 21. Like Paul’s first book, The Pathless Path, it’s a book that invites the reader to question their assumptions about work, ambition, and living the good life, except it’s funnier too. 

I first met Paul during my senior year of college, when I had an extreme career crisis that made me wonder if I was insane. While my classmates at Harvard were landing their dream jobs in tech and consulting, I was questioning my future career before it even started, hosting a career crisis party that people my age only attended because there was free pizza. The Pathless Path was among the deepest content I came across that validated the importance of my questions — how can I protect my soul from unfulfilling work? What can it look like to love your life without being a millionaire? Am I just doomed if I can’t hang on a yacht and eat nice cheese every day, the way some of my classmates’ parents can? — and gave me the permission to keep exploring what I valued.

One of the most remarkable qualities about Paul in general is that he walks the walk. Back in college, I didn’t know him well, but he offered me a free spot in his group coaching program. Paul’s support was so important to me during my career crisis, and many people have analogous stories about Paul. He cares deeply about supporting people, and that’s also what makes his books so great to read. He wants you, the reader, to experience that same joy and liberation he has through good work. 

Good Work, like The Pathless Path, is a refreshing read because it does the exact opposite of what most self-improvement or finance books do. Here’s a guy writing a book about his journey to find good work, and he’s not telling you a plan to earn seven figures or monetize your passions. Instead, he insists upon almost the exact opposite: “the idea that you should be able to make money from your passions is a story that holds too many people back from finding good work.” Paul’s great at communicating provocative ideas like these. Normally, when someone tells me that being poorer is fine, or that I might never be an influencer-creator-millionaire drinking mimosas at the beach, I want to throw a tantrum, but whenever I read Paul’s writing, I find myself nodding along!

In many of the self-improvement books I’ve read, there’s a veneer of ease that’s injected throughout every page. Just take this course, just cold email fifty potential clients, just change your mindset by cold showering twice a day, and your life will be transformed! There is no such veneer in Good Work, and that’s what makes the book so powerful. At every point, Paul advocates for facing insecurities and emotions head-on, while admitting how buck-wild that can feel, even for someone who has made over $200k from his first book. 

The truth is that I worry about money all the time. However, by learning to co-exist with my fear and discomfort, I can decide to worry more about other things.  But this transformation has not been easy. When I quit my job, I was in a good position: single, no debt, and a year’s worth of living expenses in savings. But these advantages could not protect me from the tsunami of emotions that hit immediately after I quit my job: Good god, what have I done? I might go broke. 

Paragraphs like the one above are what make Good Work and its predecessor so profound. Paul really struggled before he found his way on the pathless path, and he’s unafraid to dive into the rawness and vulnerability that accompanies him. While Paul doesn’t and can’t offer a personalized plan that guarantees joyful and well-paying work, what Good Work offers is much more valuable. It’s a journey into the trenches of insecurity: rare is the book where the author admits that he was six feet tall and under a hundred pounds in high school, and the only thing he could do to impress his prom date’s dad was to focus on external achievements. 

Part of what makes Good Work an exciting counterpart to the Pathless Path is its focus on Angie, Paul’s wife. Her story offers an excellent balance to Paul’s: sometimes when I think about Paul’s work, I go, of course you made a pathless path work! All you have to do is shine your MIT degree and your former McKinsey badge, and you’ll be drowning in freelance work!

Angie, however, grew up being told she wasn’t the money-making type. When she moved here, she wanted to charge $5 an hour for her work, less than 1/3 of the minimum wage. So seeing her journey — the struggles, self-doubt, and the eventual blossoming into an astute writer working hard on a memoir— is especially rewarding to read. Even if you have many deep-seated cards stacked against you, you can still go far pursuing good and great work. 

While Paul doesn’t offer conventional concrete advice, he does share extremely general but important principles. The extended focus on Paul’s relationship with Angie is an example. Successful people don’t always talk about it in depth, but who you choose as a partner can make or break you. Paul summarizes this really well:

 Without Angie, I don’t think anything I’ve done would have been possible. At every step of the way, despite my doubts or insecurities, she encourages me to keep going. And when I tell her that I’d go back and get a job if necessary to meet our needs, she typically rolls her eyes, signaling that she is willing to sacrifice anything to help me avoid that fate. 

Reflections like these are what really make Good Work shine. It’s an excellent memoir because of Paul’s generosity with sharing the wisdom he’s fought for and stumbled into. It makes me want to take my own good work — writing chaotic self-help essays, shipping a book one day, editing the books of incredible writers like Paul — more seriously and commit more deeply to it, no matter how much I might confuse people at parties or how insane I might seem. After all, as Paul says, “ Once you discover your good work, take it seriously and protect it, as it can be one of the most powerful ways to show up in the world, contribute, and feel useful”, regardless of what your college classmates or parents might think!

As a disclaimer, I beta read both The Pathless Path and Good Work, but opinions are all mine. Thanks to Paul for sparking my curiosity about going pathless, as well as for reading this review and giving me some pointers. And thank you for reading! If you’ve read Good Work or plan on doing so, let me know your thoughts in the comments below or DM me on Twitter.

If you enjoyed this essay, check out two related essays: Principles of Authentic Business and My Career Crisis Party at Harvard.