Towards a New Kind of Ambition

Ambition (n.) Mid-14c., ambicioun, “eager or inordinate desire for honor or preferment,” from Old French ambicion (13c.), or directly from Latin ambitionem (nominative ambitio) “a going around,” especially to solicit votes, hence “a striving for favor, courting, flattery; a desire for honor, thirst for popularity,” noun of action from past-participle stem of ambire “to go around, go about,” from amb- “around” (from PIE root ambhi- “around”) + ire “go” (from PIE root ei- “to go”).

Ayn Rand, in The Fountainhead, suggests that many of us never hold a truly personal desire; instead, our ambitions are shaped by the expectations of others. We often chase after prestige and the approval of others rather than pursuing what genuinely makes us happy. This notion has been on my mind lately, particularly as I sit here on an island in the Croatian archipelago, enjoying a few days of summer vacation and reflecting on my own journey over the last 30+ years.

On this trip, I’ve been reading Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood, where one line left a particularly strong mark with me (and 3069 other readers): “He may successfully accumulate, but he does not accumulate success...” This distinction between accumulation and true success reminded me of the letter I wrote earlier this year from Osaka (https://www.dhirubhai.net/pulse/life-like-being-stuck-airplane-finding-optimism-tobias-mathiasen-ciazf/?trackingId=oA5yRPyVR16pTmrQo2G4NA%3D%3D ), in which I concluded by recognising that a traditional desire to "succeed" has always held a certain sway over me.

Back then, I was torn between two competing thoughts. On one hand, the appeal of the traditionally ambitious path was strong: “We are close to success, at least halfway there… and wouldn’t it be fantastic to launch a VC fund in Japan? Wouldn’t that prove what I’m capable of?”

On the other hand, a more process-focused mindset was emerging: “We are close to success, at least halfway there… but even if we succeed, wouldn’t the constraints of a VC fund framework stifle the tactical agility and freedom I value? Would this really result in a daily process I would enjoy?”

This internal conflict highlighted a critical clash: the pull between traditional, goal-driven ambition and a desire to shift toward a more sustainable, process-driven motivation. Traditional ambition, when stripped to its core, emphasizes achieving visible goals to elevate one’s status in the eyes of others. This drive is understandable—as social creatures, “fitting into the tribe” is one of our strongest instincts, and enhancing our status can seem like a way to secure our place within the group. However, this pursuit of status is ultimately an endless, unsustainable chase that only ceases when our life comes to an end.

But there must be another path—one that prioritizes the journey over the destination, finding fulfillment and pride in the process itself. Take, for example, my efforts to connect Japan and Europe. I have realized that my motivation isn't rooted in the goal of launching a VC fund; it comes from the daily satisfaction of seeing high-quality stakeholders discover unexpected opportunities. The VC framework is merely one of many possible means to achieve this, not the ultimate goal in itself.

Traditional ambition tends to focus on destinations rather than journeys. For example, “let’s put in five grueling years at an investment bank to climb the ranks and prove ourselves successful.” Having studied and lived in Hong Kong, a city obsessed with financial success, I’ve seen many friends torn between a desire to pursue what they genuinely love, and and urge to prove their ambition through conventional measures of success. I, too, have felt this tension—drawn into the “Stockholm Syndrome” of thinking that working long hours and enduring intense pressure is somehow admirable because it gives you an air of traditional ambition.

Marcus Aurelius reminds us, “Man lives only in the present, in this fleeting instant; all the rest of his life is either past and gone, or not yet revealed.” This suggests a different kind of ambition, one that focuses on the present moment. I call this “process-driven ambition”—an approach that might offer a meaningful alternative to the goal-centric view of ambition.

Consider the words of Confucius: “To rank the effort above the prize may be called love.” This idea suggests that true fulfilment comes when we value the process and the effort we put into our endeavors more than the external rewards or outcomes they may bring. In other words, when we are motivated by love or a genuine passion for what we do, we are less concerned with the final prize and more invested in the journey itself.

I am far from the only person who, after a few years of life, concluded that traditional ambition might not be sustainable. Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274), an Italian philosopher and theologian known for integrating Christian doctrine with Aristotelian philosophy, viewed ambition as a departure from virtue, seeking honor rather than leading a virtuous life. Augustine (354–430), also known as Saint Augustine of Hippo and an influential early Christian theologian and philosopher, saw it as a manifestation of greed and lust for power. Alfred Austin (1835–1913), an English poet and literary critic who served as the British Poet Laureate, described ambition as an "infirmity of noble minds", something to be outgrown as we mature. Cesare Pavese (1908–1950), an Italian novelist and poet known for exploring existential themes, called ambition a sign of inferiority, an indication of insecurity. These critiques highlight the limitations of traditional ambition, suggesting that it may hinder rather than help achieve true happiness and fulfillment.

By contrast, process-driven ambition shifts our focus from proving ourselves to others, to finding meaning and joy in what we do. With it, the most dedicated and mindful gardener can prove him- or herself more ambitious than the average, absent minded banker or management consultant. This approach does not reject ambition, but redefines it.

So why not just make the switch from “traditional ambition” to “process-driven ambition”? Well, it’s not quite that easy. To truly embrace it, without our lizard brains telling us that we are “losers who cannot survive the competition of modern life,” we must make process-driven ambition the rational choice.

In my previous letter, I argued that life is like a circular long-distance flight with the same departure and arrival airport: making the most of the journey is the only rational approach, rather than obsessing about the destination. Every time we dwell on the past, we are not fully alive. Every time we worry about the future, we are not truly present. We are only alive in the present moment or perhaps at the intersection—the “jump”—between the present moment and the very next one, whatever that may be.

Perhaps understanding that goal-driven ambition pulls your mind away from the present and fixates it on the future is reason enough to consider a shift towards process-driven ambition. The more we focus on making the most of the present moment, the greater our “life uptime.” Maximizing this KPI should be in every rational person’s interest. If there is one ambitious competition worth engaging in, it might be the race to have the highest “life uptime %” by the end of life. The sooner we start, the better our chances.

In conclusion, if we redefine ambition in this way, we can still be ambitious while focusing on the journey rather than the destination. We can embrace a more sustainable form of ambition that prioritizes our happiness and well-being, encouraging us to find purpose and fulfillment in the present moment. I once asked my father for advice based on his life thus far. “Actively build self-confidence,” he told me. I now see how strong self-confidence helps one live life without worrying too much about what others think you should be doing. To embrace process-driven ambition, we need to rethink what it means to be successful. To do so is perfectly rational.

"I remind young people everywhere I go, one of the worst things the older generation did was to tell them for twenty-five years 'Be successful, be successful, be successful' as opposed to 'Be great, be great, be great'. There's a qualitative difference." - Cornel West