The Never-Ending New
Tired of keeping up with the next new thing? I would be too.
Are you tired of always chasing the next new thing? Keeping up with the latest trends? The latest shows? The latest updates and posts? Feel free to get off the merry-go-round. You’ll be better for it. It’s all an illusion anyway. This essay isn’t just about fading fame, it’s about the deeper illusion that fame is permanent—and what that belief does to our expectations and sense of worth.
Who’s that guy?
In 2017, I was walking through the airport in Austin when I saw a man sitting at a nondescript table writing on something. I recognized the trophy on the table before I recognized the person—it was the Heisman Trophy. Only after I read the plaque on the trophy did I realize that the person at the table was Earl Campbell. He was signing a football.
I was already running late for my flight, so I didn’t have time to get an autograph, but I did snap the photo below as I passed by. There was only one person getting an autograph. No one else was in line.
Earl Campbell was a famous football running back. He played for the Texas Longhorns in the 1970s, won the Heisman Trophy for being the top player in college football, and then went on to play for the Houston Oilers before retiring in 1986. He was legendary at The University of Texas at Austin, yet now, in the place where he became famous, he was being passed by hundreds, if not thousands, of people.
Earl Campbell, though great in his time, saw his fame fade as new "greats" arose—University of Texas running backs like Ricky Williams in the 1990s and Cedric Benson in the 2000s. However, even those players faded from public attention.
This made me think about people like Julie Andrews, Frankie Avalon, Chubby Checker, Rick Moranis, Emilio Estevez, Mia Sara, Christian Slater—all famous at one time, and yet many young people today have likely never heard of them, even though these once-famous people are all still alive.
We often miss this “turnover” of fame, fooled by the illusion that success and fame are both attainable and lasting. But they’re not—because of something I call the Never-Ending New.
The Arc of our Life
When we imagine the journey to fame, we picture rising to the top and staying there. Life is gravy after that.
We picture it like this:
But what really happens is that someone rises to the top, has a moment—or maybe even a period—of popularity, and then fades. This is what actually happens:
And because there’s always someone else rising to the top, the arc is repeated by new individuals becoming popular and famous:
Since the arcs overlap, it seems like popularity is continual, but it’s really just the continual top that we see. Here’s a more accurate depiction of our perception (blue) versus reality (gray) of popularity and fame:
In the aggregate there is perpetual popularity. But at the individual level, there isn’t.
Also in reality, those arcs aren’t equal. Some peak sooner, some later, and some flame out after a brief flash. These are the one-hit wonders. Occasionally, some last for years, maybe decades. Life-spanning popularity is nearly impossible.
Ted Gioia, in his essay How Long Does Pop Culture Stardom Last?, noted:
I’ve long believed that 80 years is a typical span of pop culture fame for superstars. I’m referring to the biggest names—the lesser stars burn out in 80 months or 80 weeks or 80 days. But the top draws retain their fame for the entire lifetime of their youngest fans—and given current life expectancies of the U.S. audience, that can’t be much more than 80 years.
Here’s an even more accurate depiction of our perception (blue) versus reality (gray) of popularity:
As Gioia explains, that 80-year fame applies only to the superstars—the best of the best.
The average career length is in the NFL is just 3.3 years. It’s only 2.57 years for a running back. The average career length in the NBA is 4.5 years.
A study of over 2.4 million actors found that "one-hit wonders"—actors with only one credited year—are the norm, not the exception. The study also found that the unemployment rate in acting hovers around 90%, and that only about 2% of actors are able to make a living out of acting. That’s not surprising, since the median salary is of a professional actor is $23 per hour.
Another study of YouTubers found that 96.5% of them won’t make enough money to even rise above the poverty line.
Most people who dream of making it to the top fail to understand how rare it is to get there, much less stay there.
The only thing that lasts forever in pop culture is pop culture.
As I said earlier, in the aggregate, popularity is perpetual, but at the individual level, it isn’t. The ever-present nature of the high-visibility roles makes fame feel like it lasts longer than it really does for any one person.
This is because of two factors:
These high-profile roles always exist.
There will always be a "best" among them.
There must always be running backs on NFL teams, and among them, there will always be somone considered the best. Fame is a constant game of King of the Hill—the only constants are the hill and the place at the top.
There will always be the most famous actor, most-viewed YouTube channel, top business leader, richest person, and highest-ranking general. Every field will have a "top," a "best," a "highest-paid."
There’s always a new Survivor champion. A new winner on The Voice. A new reality show to replace The Voice. And one day, hopefully, a new trend to replace reality TV…although I don’t expect it to be better. After all, there will always be awards and recognition for the best in every field and profession, no matter how bad the “best” are.
Some of the most talented people are not famous,
and some of the most famous people are not talented.
There’s an old joke: “What do you call the lowest-ranked graduate at medical school?”
The answer: “Doctor.”
To accentuate my point: “What do you call the lowest-ranked graduate at the worst medical school in the world?”
Once again: “Doctor.”
This joke applies to any field. Even the worst military in the world still has generals.
Thanks to the ever-expanding content of the internet, cable TV, and social media, there are more hills being created every day, which makes it feel like there are more opportunities for “fame.” Fame feels more achievable, and thus more people pursue it. For this very reason, fame becomes diluted, and if it ever had any meaning, that meaning is now lost.
But we’re not just diluting fame, really we’re doing is diluting the idea of what excellence and true flourishing in our world look like. Don’t be fooled by titles or trophies or trends. They don’t always reflect true excellence. And even when they do, the top rarely stays popular for long.
The world is made up of people who work hard, take care of their families, and know little fame. Most of us are the gray arc:
But because we’re all different, it’s more like this:
Really, though, it’s made up of millions of arcs, which collectively form this:
And since people and fame existed before us, we can cut off the left side. What we’re left with is the mass of humanity spread out over time. Across the top is a feeling of perpetual fame.
I’m reminded of the Ship of Theseus, a thought experiment that questions whether a ship whose boards are replaced one-by-one remains the same ship once all parts have been replaced. We’re on a constant voyage aboard the Ship of Theseus, never stopping to realize the boards are continually being replaced, yet it seems like the same ship.
Contributing Factors
There are a number of factors contributing to the illusion.
In his 2013 essay The Lottery Society, William Deresiewicz critiques a culture where success seems increasingly based on luck—viral fame, reality TV, influencer culture. Even if the statistics of winning are uncertain, the perception is enough to drive millions toward the fame game.
We also live in an attention economy. Businesses compete for your eyes and clicks. They’re happy to promote you if it helps promote themselves.
David Perell, in his essay Never-Ending Now (the title of which inspired the title of my post), describes the trap:
The structure of our social media feeds place us in a Never-Ending Now. Like hamsters running on a wheel, we live in an endless cycle of ephemeral content consumption—a merry-go-round that spins faster and faster but barely goes anywhere.
We’re trapped in a Never-Ending Now—blind to our place in history, engulfed in the present moment, overwhelmed by the slightest breeze of chaos.
This creates a dangerous dynamic: people chasing fame, and businesses cheering them on.
One outcome is what I call “trend society”—that pressure to adopt whatever’s new, popular, or faddish: the next iPhone, Crocs sandals, bell-bottoms, Golden Goose shoes, rubber wristbands…the list is endless.
To what extent do you follow the next new thing? Do you do it to stand out, or to blend in? Or to blend in by standing out?
The desire to be popular is widespread. But having lived long enough, I know how utterly exhausting that life would be—the need to always be relevant, to always create, to always perform. Constantly chasing popularity is a fool’s errand.
Conclusion
In case you’re under the perception that this is a new problem, reflect on what Marcus Aurelius wrote 2,000 years ago:
About fame: Look at the minds of those who seek fame, observe what they are, and what kind of things they avoid, and what kind of things they pursue. And consider that as the heaps of sand piled on one another hide the former sands, so in life the events which go before are soon covered by those which come after.
This applies to every field where popularity is measured—actors, athletes, scientists, even your profession. You must understand: there will always be a "top." Someone will always be touted as the best. And there will always be someone new.
So don’t be fooled into thinking that you will get there—or that if you do you will stay there. Frankly, how exhausting would that be?
Here are some tips to avoid the traps of fame and popularity:
Work hard for the sake of working hard, growing in your wisdom and abilities, and accomplishing things. Don’t do it for fame or recognition.
Pursue a thing because you enjoy doing it, while also knowing you may not enjoy doing it all of the time.
If fame comes, stay humble. Someone younger, smarter, and better looking is on the way to replace you.
The higher you rise, the farther you fall—unless you keep your ego grounded.
People who chase fame and money often compromise their morals. Their fame and popularity are fleeting. Pursue excellence in your daily life.
Don’t strive for popularity—and don’t stake your personal worth, or net worth, on things that depend on popularity.
It’s okay to be good at something. If being good brings fame, that’s fine. But remember: some of the most talented people are not famous, and some of the most famous people are not talented.
Ted Gioia wrote, “...the only thing that lasts forever in pop culture is the fact that nothing lasts forever.” While I agree, I’d amend it slightly: “The only thing that lasts forever in pop culture is pop culture.”