breaking the spell
In 2009, Vanity Fair hooked me with a story about how fishing policy transformed Iceland into “a machine for turning cod into Ph.D.’s.” I’ve been an avid reader ever since, though I get my fisheries news elsewhere. A few days ago, I was catching up on their coverage of the Grammys when a story about boygenius caught my attention. Singer-songwriters Phoebe Bridgers, Julien Baker, and Lucy Dacus named their supergroup in a sort of mocking-yet-aspirational nod to confidence. As young, queer women artists, they are all too familiar with the guy who walks into the room with “half the information but all the power”, who is trusted “because they’re loud.” Those guys - and they often are guys, though the type transcends gender - look and sound different in science than they do in tech or journalism, but they’re everywhere.
When you’re unsure of yourself or fatigued by the hustle, the way that these "boy geniuses" believe in themselves with their whole heart and say what they think with their whole chest feels refreshing. The boy genius sings a siren song of certain success. They are so sure they know what works, what to do, and who to tap. And so when these taste-makers choose you, it can be life-changing. Doors start to open and opportunities come in: maybe the money gets bigger or the invitations get better, maybe it's just the thrill of making it. You can dream bigger than you ever did before, because so much more seems possible now. It is electrifying.
And it is corrosive. You’re linked to that person now, and that link can become a weight, or even a liability. Maybe your need for their continued support reshapes your ambitions to suit their tastes. Maybe you start doubting your instincts. Maybe you hear things about their troubling behavior. Maybe you experience it yourself. The stakes are higher now: breaking off ties is risky, but so is continuing the course.
I love watching people make the choice to break ties and then win on their own terms, like boygenius has. As Dacus told VF, “You don’t have to abide by weirdos, abusers, and beasts walking around the industry… If someone tells you that they have the key to your success, you’re holding their key.” Bridgers follows that with, “Don’t let them trick you into thinking that they’re making you relevant. They need you or they will die in obscurity.”
It’s easy to say that once you’re holding an armful of Grammys. But when you don’t know whether you’ll make it or not, choosing to break ties with a boy genius can feel impossible.
A lot of amazing people find themselves facing this choice at some point. They are founders, leaders, lab heads, people trying to create something good in the world. They have been grinding for a long time. Maybe you are one of them? I was. We are responsible for the grants that keep our labs running, for the gifts that keep our nonprofits afloat, for keeping it all going. I distrust anyone who minimizes the weight and complexity of the choices this responsibility entails. So I’m not telling you that you’ll never need to compromise. And I can’t guarantee that the choice to defy your boy genius won’t be damaging. What I can offer - what I wish I’d been able to internalize years ago, and what I am always reminding myself of often now - is a way to break the grip of the spell.
Yes, some people wield outsized influence in our professional lives, that’s true. But it's easy to overestimate their strength. Soft power is only as real as people imagine it to be.
When we buy into the idea that one person can control the entire trajectory of our life, we are not acknowledging their power, we are handing it to them.
And that, at least, is one thing we can simply choose to stop doing.