For years we have been told to “follow our passion.” It is the advice graduates hear in commencement speeches, the mantra repeated in self-help books, and the default encouragement given to anyone stuck in a career rut. Yet Ryan Holiday has made a point of questioning this sacred cow. In his essays and books, he argues that passion is not the solution but often the problem. Passion, he says, is unstable. It burns hot but quickly dies down. It is loud, exciting, and intoxicating, but also volatile, ego-driven, and at times blinding. Passion can get you moving, but it rarely sustains the long, grinding work required for mastery.
Holiday contrasts passion with purpose. Passion is emotional and inward-looking. Purpose, on the other hand, is grounded and outward-looking. It asks, “What is the work for? Who does it serve? What greater good am I contributing to?” Passion is about me—my excitement, my feelings, my dreams. Purpose is about the work itself and its value beyond my ego. Holiday insists that passion alone is dangerous because it tempts us to mistake intensity for progress. We might pour ourselves into a project with great enthusiasm, but without discipline and clarity, our effort scatters instead of building something durable.
The alternative he offers is realism, discipline, and perseverance. Passion may spark the initial fire, but purpose and realism keep the flame alive when the novelty fades. Realism accepts that the journey will be long, difficult, and at times boring. Discipline gives structure when emotion runs dry. Perseverance holds the course when excitement disappears. For Holiday, these qualities matter more than how “passionate” someone feels about their work. The surgeon in the operating room, the engineer building a bridge, or the teacher showing up for students day after day—none of these professions depend on fiery passion to function. They depend on competence, steadiness, and devotion to a purpose larger than self.
Critics sometimes worry that dismissing passion means advocating for a dull, mechanical life. Holiday’s point is not that we must be cold or indifferent. Rather, he suggests that passion is best treated as a byproduct, not the foundation. When you commit to a purpose, build skills, and develop mastery, passion often follows naturally. But chasing passion for its own sake is like chasing a high—you end up restless, always searching for the next emotional rush, instead of building something lasting.
This perspective has practical implications. For young people entering the workforce, it is tempting to only pursue what excites them most in the moment. But Holiday would say: start with purpose. Ask what work needs to be done, where your skills can contribute, and what mission you can commit to. Over time, as you build competence and see the impact of your effort, the satisfaction you feel is deeper and steadier than the fleeting surge of passion.
In the end, Holiday’s warning is not against feeling excited, but against being ruled by excitement. Passion is volatile fuel, but purpose is a stable engine. The challenge is to resist the glittering lure of “do what you love” and instead build a life around meaningful work, realistic expectations, and steady practice. Passion may flare up along the way, but it is purpose that endures
The idea of “follow your passion” sounds inspiring, but it often collapses under the weight of real work; passion is emotional, unstable, and fades when things get hard, while purpose is steady, outward-looking, and anchored in service and responsibility. What actually sustains meaningful careers and lasting impact isn’t excitement but discipline, realism, and perseverance—the willingness to show up when the work is boring, difficult, or uncelebrated. Passion may spark movement, but purpose builds momentum; when you commit to work that matters beyond your ego and develop real competence over time, passion becomes a byproduct, not the driver, and that’s how something durable is created.
follow your passion” is lazy advice. Passion is unreliable; it shows up when things feel good and disappears the moment the work gets repetitive, hard, or thankless. Purpose is different—it’s rooted in responsibility, service, and long-term commitment, not mood. The people who build anything meaningful aren’t driven by constant excitement but by discipline, realism, and the humility to keep showing up when nobody is clapping. Passion can start the engine, sure, but it cannot sustain the journey; purpose does that. When you commit to work that matters beyond your ego and grind long enough to become competent, passion doesn’t lead—you earn it as a side effect. That’s how durable careers, movements, and impact are actually built.