Esse Quam Videri

I’m a big fan of Latin—it’s simultaneously ubiquitous and extinct. There are many precious Latin phrases from great Roman orators and philosophers, but one that particularly resonates with me is: Esse Quam Videri. Translated, it means, “To be, rather than to seem.” It’s often attributed to the Roman orator Cicero, from his essay on friendship, where he proclaimed, “Virtute enim ipsa non tam multi praediti esse quam videri volunt” (Few are those who wish to be endowed with virtue rather than to seem so). 

With the advent of social media—and the omnipresent nature of TikTok, Instagram, and Snapchat, among others—there’s an endless stream of people seeming to be all sorts of things. As some posts can proliferate and perpetuate virally, certain behaviors seem far more representative of reality than reality itself. People seem happier, prettier, smarter, more talented, wittier, more accomplished, and more carefree in the media-varnished representation of themselves than in actuality. All of this gives us a dangerously skewed reflection of reality to compare ourselves to. Furthermore, to some degree, many of us are guilty of perpetuating this phenomenon. We post the perfect shot of ourselves in a bathing suit on the beach. Or crossing the finishing line of a marathon, two thumbs up and barely breaking a sweat. Or winning an award for outstanding achievement. 

On social media, we’re all gleaming and shiny, smart and successful.

Amidst all this “seeming,” we run the risk of losing our true sense of being. Rather than be scholarly, we try to convince others that we’re scholarly. Rather than be industrious, we put on the appearance of industriousness. Rather than striving to be generous, we feign generosity. We currently live in a society where primacy is given to seeming, and the truth of being is subordinated. 

I get that we all wear masks, that we all assume different characteristics, in different situations. In the past, people could have an affected persona that was different from their actual persona, with the distinction between pretend and real understood. Today, the affectation has become more important than the reality. If you can’t appear the way you want to in front of your social or professional cadre, what’s the point in actually attaining a state of excellence? If you can’t Instagram that great achievement, what’s the point of doing it? As they say on chat boards, “Without pictures, it didn’t happen.”

This is particularly challenging for me as a venture capitalist, as a builder and investor in teams that require high degrees of performance. In today’s age of Zoom meetings, when we have to assess people remotely and rely on brief video interactions, our ability to gain a deep sense of who people are— rather than what they seem—is compromised. In straightforward and amicable circumstances, people can seem calm, competent, and cordial. But when they’re in stressful circumstances, you learn new things about them. And often these things are contrary to what you previously thought.

Therefore, we must develop the acuity to scrutinize the nuances of how people behave, not just what they say. There are certain people who are quick to respond and be heard but have little of substance to say. It’s as if attendance is being taken, and if they raise their hand, they get credit for being there and for knowing what they’re doing, despite the fact they don’t. Other people may superficially sound like they know what they’re doing, and surround themselves with competent people, yet when we isolate and scrutinize them, we discover their knowledge is superficial.

This might work in low-stakes circumstances, but I’ve found that to truly elevate to higher levels of excellence, it’s essential to embrace the principle of Esse Quam Videri—to be, rather than to seem. Sophisticated clients doling out huge amounts of capital in highly competitive environments can distinguish people who are just talking from people who are walking the talk. Ultimately, trying to appear a certain way isn’t only exhausting, it takes you further away from who you truly are. This is a losing battle. It’s far better to be great than merely appear great. 

In fact, it’s far better to be good, than appear great.

The most successful people I know tend to keep low profiles. Their competency is apparent to the sophisticated parties they interface with, and they possess little need to appeal to the lowest common denominator. If you must seek the approval of others, focus on passing muster with people of substance in your field, the most discriminating critics, rather than counting on less informed strangers. Ultimately, the one person who always knows the deep truth about you is—well, you. If you can’t fool yourself, why bother fooling anyone else. Be the person in front of others that you want to be in front of yourself. In the end, it’s the only sustainable path to personal liberation and social acceptance.