Is Scott Galloway The New Lance Armstrong?

And why the answer has more to do with you than you think.

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One of my favorite books ever!!!

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Is Scott Galloway the New Lance Armstrong?

And why the answer has more to do with you than you think.

It has been a quarter of a century since Lance Armstrong’s book, It’s Not About The Bike, was first published. And it has been twelve years since his public “admission” of guilt as a cheater on the Oprah show.¹

Remember Oprah? Everyone used to love her. Now she lives on a compound two and a half times the size of Central Park on the island of Maui…while natives on the island struggle to rebuild after a devastating fire². Sign of the times much?

But just like Armstrong, for a time we believed in her.

I never did. Well, in Armstrong anyway. Oprah actually kept me company many an afternoon as a latchkey teenager.

But I digress. I didn’t believe in Armstrong because he never allowed me to. Let me explain:

When his book came out I was a recent college graduate. In 1999, I made exactly zero dollars in my first season coaching college football. In 2000 & 2001, I was a graduate assistant (GA) making $2,000 a year. My fellow GA and I figured out that we were making .67 cents an hour (not joking). I ate a lot of ramen and PB&Js during those two years. I also met the woman of my dreams, who promptly said yes when I asked her to marry my broke ass.

So, it seems obvious to say I wasn’t paying a lick of attention to cycling. Not that I had at any time previously or since, but still. My dad loved Armstrong and his entire story. He even wore one of those omnipresent little yellow bracelets and bought them for others.

At some point he bought one for me. But I wouldn’t wear it. “Why would I wear a bracelet representing a man I know nothing about?” I said. This was around the same time when people like Madonna were wearing those ridiculous red bracelets that signaled they were enlightened.

Or some stupid shit like that.

So, my dad promptly bought me Armstrong’s book and mailed it to me. I’m sure it came with a well-written note imploring me to read it and give it a chance.

So, I read the goddamn book. And let me tell you, getting me to do that was no small feat. I made it through twelve years of schooling without reading a single book from start to the finish³. So, for me to read it took some willpower.

When I got to the end I was perplexed. Armstrong wrote this entire book about his ‘journey,’ and we learned nothing about his relationship with his wife. His wife was by his side through it all, raising their children essentially alone, while at the same time managing his care and supporting him emotionally.

Seemed odd. Not sure how I researched it at the time. Although right now, ChatGPT told me Google was blowing up around then.

So, maybe I Googled it.

Maybe I asked Jeeves.

Or, maybe it was Maybelline.

Holy shit, they are still using that tagline in their marketing?!?!

Regardless, what I found out was disappointing. Sometime between the publication of his book and my reading it, he had divorced his wife and begun dating Sheryl Crow. Which is totally on brand for so many rich and successful men, who think they are rich and successful precisely because they are just that great.

You are not going to believe how many punchable faces I can fit in this post.

“You still want me to wear this shitbird’s bracelet?” I asked my dad. Ok, full disclosure, I have no idea what I actually said to him twenty-something years ago. But that sentence is one of about three plausible options.

So no, I was never a Lance Armstrong fan.

Enter Scott Galloway. If you don’t know that name, here is his face:

Oh, such brooding masculinity.

And here are his abs:

Big d-bag vibes

People, if I ever post a photo of myself like this, please know, I consider us friends. And friends don’t let friends act like d-bags. So please, for the love of Pete, tell me I am being a d-bag.

I will skip the whole thing where I make fun of his appearance. First, because I am no Don Johnson myself (is he still hot?). And second, because the fact that we all now do that to celebs and politicians with whom we disagree is not only disgusting, it’s hypocritical.

If it’s not cool to make fun of someone who’s a democrat based on their appearance, then it’s not cool to make fun of this particular human for his either.

I really came to know of Galloway last year when my Substack friend Jenn Schuessler recommended him to me. She had recently come upon my writing and thought we sounded similar.

Immediately when I Googled him, I recognized his pompously masculine face. (See what I did there?) I recognized it because I had seen him speak before, and actually liked what he had to say. So I bought one of his books. It was a good read. Agreeable, common-sensical, and easy to digest.

The milquetoast version of a book.

But one thing stood out. Instead of hiding his indiscretions, like Armstrong, he put himself on blast (old heads: this is a young folk term for calling himself out). It went a little something like this:

• I was a shitty person.

• I got rich.

• I learned how not to be a shitty person.

Am I the only one who sees that as a red flag? That getting rich actually fixes you? I know many people think more money will make all of their problems go away. And maybe it will, to some extent. But your character? It can fix that?

I’d like to think that I’ve never been a shitty person. I don’t mean that I’ve never had a shitty moment, or done a shitty thing, or said something shitty about someone else that I’ve regretted (sorry Travis 😂). But I’ve never been “cheat on my wife” shitty. I’ve never been “abandon my children” shitty.

Like, I’m pretty sure if you gave the average dad in America an extra $50 million, he’d make some better choices too.

Well, wait a minute….

Of course its Florida.

I think there is something about the viral nature of society today that makes Galloway’s approach bulletproof, while Armstrong’s was always a ticking time bomb.

Maybe it is the very nature of virality.

Remember the Harlem Shake?

Or the Ice Bucket Challenge?

Those viral sensations lasted months.

These days, something goes viral for 24 hours, tops. A few weeks ago Linda Perry’s old one-hit wonder “What’s Up” went viral when it was mashed-up with a Nicki Minaj song and a stupid little dance. Within a day or so literally everyone, everywhere was making their own video of it.

Yup, even Baba Booey did it.

And then, like a day later, everyone was like…

It’s like we are rats in an ever shrinking maze. And the social media companies are our lab assistants, dolling out more and more powerful hits of dopamine.

People who are aware of this will tell you we should just turn off our social media. Delete the apps. Take back your life.

But I disagree. Because burying your head in the sand never helped anyone.

"I never thought a man who turns on literally everyone would actually turn on me." - MTG (probably)

No. I say lean in. But not to the dopamine hits. To long-form social media. Find something you love. Something you are passionate about. Flip the script on Zuckerburg and Bezos.

Who, by the way, we can add to the shirtless bozo club.

Didn't think I could fit two more punchable faces in here did 'ya?

Find something online that you care so deeply about that you actually want to move into the real world and interact with it. Maybe by reading a book about it.

Or joining a club. Or getting involved.

Somehow.

Someway.

(Cue the Snoop Dogg music.)⁴

Because maybe diving deeper can help immunize us against the likes of Galloway. Charlatans selling the newest version of snake oil.

And to find truer meaning in our passions and relationships.

🥃 🥃 🥃 🥃 🥃 🥃 🥃 🥃 🥃 🥃 🥃 🥃

Tell me in the comments:

1. Do you struggle with social media?

2. What are you passionate about? Are you doing something about it?

3. Who’s your favorite d-bag to make fun of?

1. Admission is in quotes because, not unlike Pete Rose, Armstrong took way too long to actually admit to his wrongdoing.

2. I realize there are actually very few natives on any of the Hawaiian Islands.

3. OK that’s a lie. I read The Catcher In The Rye all the way through.

4. And speaking of Snoop - the jury is still out as to whether or not he has morphed into the land of bozos and d-bags.