"...The book I wrote was called "Liar’s Poker." It sold a million
copies. I was 28 years old. I had a career, a little fame, a small
fortune and a new life narrative. All of a sudden people were telling me
I was born to be a writer. This was absurd. Even I could see there was
another, truer narrative, with luck as its theme. What were the odds of
being seated at that dinner next to that Salomon Brothers lady? Of
landing inside the best Wall Street firm from which to write the story
of an age? Of landing in the seat with the best view of the business? Of
having parents who didn't disinherit me but instead sighed and said "do
it if you must?" Of having had that sense of must kindled inside me by a
professor of art history at Princeton? Of having been let into
Princeton in the first place?
This isn't just false humility. It's false humility with a point. My
case illustrates how success is always rationalized. People really don’t
like to hear success explained away as luck — especially successful
people. As they age, and succeed, people feel their success was somehow
inevitable. They don't want to acknowledge the role played by accident
in their lives. There is a reason for this: the world does not want to
acknowledge it either...
...In a general sort of way you have been appointed the leader of the
group. Your appointment may not be entirely arbitrary. But you must
sense its arbitrary aspect: you are the lucky few. Lucky in your
parents, lucky in your country, lucky that a place like Princeton exists
that can take in lucky people, introduce them to other lucky people,
and increase their chances of becoming even luckier. Lucky that you live
in the richest society the world has ever seen, in a time when no one
actually expects you to sacrifice your interests to anything.
All of you have been faced with the extra cookie. All of you will be
faced with many more of them. In time you will find it easy to assume
that you deserve the extra cookie. For all I know, you may. But you'll
be happier, and the world will be better off, if you at least pretend
that you don't.
Never forget: In the nation's service. In the service of all nations.
Thank you.
And good luck."
-
Mike Lewis, writer of "Moneyball",
speaking to Princeton graduates