On Authenticity
What a documentary about Eddie Murphy revealed about the good life
In the last week, I have watched two documentary films: one about Sean “Diddy” Combs and the other about the actor, Eddie Murphy. The contrast between these two men was stark. Both have achieved incredible success. And yet Combs’ life, at least to me, seemed completely hollow—a tragedy. While Murphy’s life seemed like a triumph.
I have always been fascinated by the question: what constitutes a “good” life. By good, I typically meant successful—defined as having wealth, reputation, and relevance. And certainly, both of these men qualify on those metrics. For years, I assumed there were two basic paths to achievement: luck, or the sort of effort that tried to manufacture that luck.
Thankfully, my definition of success has evolved. It seems to me that a truly successful life can include wealth, reputation, and relevance, but it certainly will include something more, something we might call contentment. More than just happiness—a way of being that replaces striving with sufficiency.
As I reflected on the lives of these two men, the idea of a third path arose: authenticity. I don’t mean the traditional definition of authenticity which is usually summarized as being true to oneself. Of course, it is that, but I believe it is also living lives of outward purpose. And by outward purpose, I mean that authenticity expresses itself externally—relationships, responsibilities, contributions—which then anchors our identity in something larger.
The light bulb moment for me was a comment Murphy made in the documentary about how he achieved his phenomenal success. He said that he was never one of those people frantically rowing a boat toward achievement. Rather, he simply cruised through his life as if on a sailboat, and from time to time, he would adjust the sail in order to allow the breeze to carry him.
I couldn’t shake that image. He wasn’t saying that there was no effort—he adjusted the sail from time to time, but it was what might be called coordinated effort. Or effort with ease. The boat was already moving. He just had to be aware enough to recognize the breeze. It was an enviable approach to life, but how, in practice, does one get to a place where we can allow the breeze to carry us? It seems too easy. Too convenient. Slightly irresponsible. A pipedream from someone out of touch with real life.
And as I began to think about it more, other individuals who I have admired—Warren Buffett, Chris Martin, and Jamie Oliver—popped into my head. These individuals share the same authenticity I recognized in Murphy. Effort combined with awareness and an outward orientation. Suddenly, a pattern emerged: self-awareness giving rise to a stable identity; a stable identity leading to goals which are grounded and sustainable; and sustainable goals breaking the shackles of ego-driven striving and opening the door to contentment.
Through that framework, authenticity becomes not merely a character trait to cultivate, but a reliable indicator of the trajectory of life. How? One way is that it improves our decision-making in the same way a seasoned sailor reads the wind—we develop a stable inner compass that allows us to recognize when to lean into the breeze and when to hold back.
When asked why he thought his life did not implode like so many of his peers, Murphy attributed it to both loving himself and having a clear sense of purpose from a young age. In other words, self-awareness. And the outward focus of his purpose was key: to bring joy to people. His purpose was not to become famous, wealthy, or beloved; that simply happened as a natural result of pursuing his purpose.
Combs also possesses incredible talent. And by all accounts, he too was self-aware as a kid. But the purpose he set for himself was to become wealthy, famous, and relevant. These were inward-facing goals. Goals that did not anchor him to anything stable or relational, and left his identity entirely dependent on ever-expanding achievement, no matter the cost.
Using only the traditional definition of authenticity, one might argue both men were “authentic.” I don’t think that argument holds. When I study people who embody holistic success, the common characteristic is authenticity giving form through outward purpose. A person can “be themselves” while also being completely self-absorbed, aimless, and full of misaligned goals. In other words, inauthentic.
If our focus is to acquire certain outcomes, our identities will naturally be shaped to fit those pursuits. And success will require continual reinforcement. However, when our focus is to express our identities through aligned action—to be authentic—outcomes happen as a natural side effect of that aligned behavior. Ultimately, as the Murphy documentary reveals, it leads to lives of meaning that supersede external achievement.
In my own life, I have experienced tangible benefits from embracing my own version of authenticity. For example, when I first began to write, I was hyperaware of the reactions of any potential readers, especially those who know me well. That hyperawareness reduced the authenticity of my writing; it became performative rather than sincere. About eight months ago, I decided to reframe my goal. I would write in order to grow personally and without worrying about potential reactions—good or bad. The result: the output, impact, and flow of my writing has increased exponentially.
I have a friend who is the assistant tennis coach of one of the top university tennis programs in the U.S. In the past few years, he has shepherded three players to the pro tour, including one currently in the top 30. He has fielded multiple offers to coach full-time on the tour. But he has resisted. Why? His self-awareness led him to two main goals: to help these young men become excellent tennis players and good human beings, and to be a great husband and father. To join the tour would mean leaving his current sphere of influence, tying himself to only one player, and traveling over forty weeks a year. A lifestyle incongruous with both goals.
That is not to say that, by being authentic, we are guaranteed to obtain material wealth and recognition. And obviously, material success can arise through other means. But if we are talking about a more holistic success defined by contentment, I do think authenticity is the key. There is a reason why people like Warren Buffett, Chris Martin, and Jamie Oliver say that they would be investing, singing, and cooking even if they never achieved fame or recognition.
If authenticity is the engine of a meaningful life, then the natural question is how to cultivate it. First, spend some time cultivating self-awareness. Second, look for where your talents might be used outwardly. Third, cultivate coherence. And then, remember Murphy’s analogy and get on the sailboat and ride. When an opportunity appears on the horizon, adjust the sail to catch the breeze.