A friend who is in the leadership team of a non-profit, recently came off a workshop where the facilitator kept returning to a single question:
“Are you disguising your ambition as a passion?”
It’s a confronting question. One I’ve had to ask myself, often.
Especially during the time I was running an online community-television platform, where our stated purpose was to bring hyperlocal stories to the fore.
Unfortunately, we got funding too early.
And so, while the discussions would centre around the voices we wanted to amplify, as soon as the early videos failed to meet super-ambitious view targets, the idea was dropped—faster than you could say Passion.
It was hugely painful. Not just for me, but for those of us who truly believed in it. Who had reached out to people, asked them to share their stories, and then had to go back and tell them that we’re no longer pursuing their story.
Because our real mandate wasn’t to give voice to the unheard, as we had thought.
It was to blow up as fast as we could for our investors—by tapping into this “Humans of Bangalore” market, or any niche market that might scale.
Which is fine. I only wish, as the leader, I’d been less in denial about it.
And that the management had been more openly honest.
Because ambition isn’t a crime. But the deception—both to ourselves and to others—is what causes harm.
And you don’t need to be working in a non-profit or doing some community-based venture to ask yourself this. It’s just as true in any startup, corporate role, or creative pursuit.
Are you doing this because it sets your heart on fire? (Purpose)
Or are you doing it because you want to win? Or because it just sounds better when you call it purpose? (Ambition)
So, what happens when you’re honest about ambition?
1. You stop confusing yourself.
You get clearer about why you’re doing what you’re doing. You can be strategic without pretending it’s soul work. That clarity lets you lead more honestly—and stop gaslighting your own team (or yourself).
2. You free yourself from guilt.
You no longer have to fake enthusiasm or wrap every move in noble purpose. You can say, “I want to win,” and mean it. You don’t owe the world a performance of purity.
3. You make room for real purpose to grow.
Ironically, honesty might be the very thing that leads you to purpose. When you stop forcing every venture to be your calling, you start noticing what actually grounds you. What keeps you going when no one’s watching. What you’re still drawn to after the funding dries up. That’s the seed of real purpose.
Honesty doesn’t make you less ambitious. It just makes you more aligned.
And sometimes, the only thing between you and your real purpose is the courage to say:
I’m not here to save the world. I’m here to build. And I want to see where that takes me.
