Make Your Mark

Have you ever wondered why some brilliant ideas change the world while others fade into obscurity? In Make Your Mark: The Creative’s Guide to Building a Business with Impact, editor Jocelyn K. Glei and contributors from the 99U community argue that creativity only matters when it is executed with structure, purpose, and authenticity. Creativity may spark transformation, but only business principles—execution, leadership, storytelling, and service—can make that transformation endure.

The authors contend that making a meaningful impact goes beyond artistic inspiration. As Scott Belsky writes in the foreword, “creation must be made accessible for consumption.” In other words, your creative ideas only matter when they reach and move others. This book teaches you how to do that: to build organizations and products rooted in purpose, refined through iteration, and sustained through trust, participation, and leadership.

A Playbook for Purpose-Driven Creativity

99U’s core argument is simple but profound: creativity must be supported by business discipline to make an impact. The world no longer rewards merely smart ideas—it rewards those who can execute them. Across its four major sections, the book provides lessons for anyone who wants to turn creativity into a sustainable enterprise: defining your purpose, building your product, serving your customers, and leading your team.

The first section, “Defining Your Purpose,” explores how authentic businesses and personal missions emerge from understanding both your unique talents and what the world needs. Keith Yamashita frames this as locating your “true north”: the intersection of who you’ve been, who you can become, and what the world hungers for. Similarly, Warren Berger, author of A More Beautiful Question, reminds us that asking better questions—not having brilliant answers—drives game-changing innovation.

Entrepreneur Aaron Dignan expands this perspective by describing the “Responsive Operating System,” a model for agile, purpose-driven organizations. These companies (like Google, Airbnb, and Tesla) adapt quickly, work transparently, and learn constantly. In this way, the first section gives you the philosophical blueprint: define your “why,” align your mission with global needs, and embrace agility rather than rigid control.

From Purpose to Product: Turning Vision into Things That Work

Once your purpose is clear, the next challenge is turning it into a product or service that people actually love. In “Building Your Product,” contributors like Andy Dunn (Bonobos) and Scott Belsky emphasize simplicity, empathy, and iteration. Dunn insists that you must “get one thing right”—in Bonobos’s case, men’s pants—before you earn the right to expand. Belsky redefines design as stewardship, not invention: you are managing a user’s experience, not just producing an object. Both stress the humility of focusing on one great product and refining it through constant prototyping and feedback.

Other contributors like Jane ni Dhulchaointigh (Sugru) and Julie Zhuo (Facebook) show that successful products are co-created with users and designed to feel invisible—so seamless that they “work like magic.” These sections echo Steve Jobs’s principle that design is not what it looks like, but how it works.

Serving Customers and Building Relationships

“Serving Your Customers,” the book’s heart, presents a modern philosophy of listening, humility, and storytelling. Chris Guillebeau and Sean Blanda remind you that your customers are your allies—real humans deserving care and conversation. They highlight brands like Amazon, Airbnb, and Charles Schwab, which grew by focusing on people, not profit. Craig Dalton demonstrates how his company DODOcase turned craftsmanship and narrative into community engagement. And Neil Blumenthal of Warby Parker outlines how empathy and transparency inspire confidence with every transaction.

These stories converge on a timeless truth: people do not just buy products, they join stories. Great brands invite customers into a shared mission—and foster trust by being relentlessly human and transparent.

Leadership That Amplifies Impact

Finally, the “Leading Your Team” section flips traditional hierarchy on its head. Rich Armstrong dissects the “reluctant manager syndrome,” arguing that management done well is a noble act of service. Joel Gascoigne of Buffer champions radical transparency—sharing salaries, revenues, and even investor decks—to fuel trust and innovation. David Marquet, a former nuclear submarine captain, recounts turning followers into leaders by giving control rather than taking it. Together, they redefine leadership as humility in action: servant leadership that fosters autonomy, fairness, and open communication.

Communicator William Allen emphasizes that clarity and repetition are the lifeblood of collaboration, while John Maeda reframes leadership as another form of creative making—crafting teams, relationships, and movements instead of objects. And Seth Godin closes the book with a challenge we all need to hear: “You’re never ready.” The artist, entrepreneur, or leader who waits for perfect readiness will never make an impact. You lead by shipping your work into the world before you feel prepared.

Why It Matters Today

In an age of constant disruption, Make Your Mark is both manifesto and manual for makers who want to lead with integrity. It shifts the narrative from chasing funding or fame to building meaningful products, cultures, and relationships. It replaces the myth of the lone genius with the reality of the responsive organization and the servant leader.

Whether you’re a designer, start-up founder, or creative professional, this book invites you to blend vision with discipline—to turn inspiration into sustained impact. At its core lies a simple but urgent question: Will you just make, or will you make your mark?

Before you can change the world, you must know why you want to. Keith Yamashita opens the book by exploring how purpose acts as a compass—both for individuals and companies. He tells the story of Dr. Bill Thomas, a physician whose life purpose is expressed in eight words: “To bring respect back to elderhood in America.” That clarity, Yamashita writes, is the foundation of effective leadership and enduring impact. Without such focus, creative energy disperses and companies drift.

Discovering Your Compass

Your purpose sits at the intersection of four questions: What does the world need? What are your unique gifts? Who have you been when you were at your best? And who must you fearlessly become? Yamashita worked with companies like Apple and Nike to find this intersection—what he calls “true north.” This method applies to you, too. When you articulate your purpose in one sentence, he argues, your daily actions align naturally with your long-term impact.

Asking the Hard “Why” Questions

Warren Berger extends this inquiry in his essay “Asking the Right Questions.” Building on Peter Drucker’s insight that “one begins by asking ‘What are our questions?,’” Berger offers seven catalytic questions that every business should use to orient itself. These include “Why are we here?” “If we disappeared, who would miss us?” and “What are we willing to sacrifice?” Such questions, like the Lean Startup cycle (Eric Ries), keep companies honest. They push you to examine not only your product but also its moral and cultural relevance.

Berger’s key insight is that purpose doesn’t come from slogans—it comes from continuous inquiry. Just as scientists formulate hypotheses, entrepreneurs must keep questioning, testing, and refining their mission in uncertain conditions.

Operate Responsively, Not Rigidly

Finally, Aaron Dignan describes what happens when purpose meets structure. He introduces the idea of a “Responsive Operating System”: a cultural architecture that replaces hierarchy with learning and experimentation. Companies like Airbnb and Dropbox demonstrate these values through openness, speed, and adaptability. Dignan contrasts legacy corporations—defined by control, secrecy, and scale—with modern, purpose-driven enterprises that favor experimentation, transparency, and small, agile teams. His core message echoes Yamashita’s compass: know who you are, but stay flexible enough to evolve with the world.

Key lesson:

Purpose is not a statement—it’s a system. It’s how you decide, act, and learn in alignment with your deepest values.

Andy Dunn’s story of founding Bonobos reminds us that “a great brand is earned through one great item.” Instead of chasing variety, Dunn chose focus: the perfect pair of men’s pants. His rule was simple—solve one urgent problem for a small group of users before scaling it. This echoes Y Combinator founder Paul Graham’s advice to “make something a small number of people want a large amount.”

Product as Proof of Purpose

Bonobos began as a side hobby with cofounder Brian Spaly’s prototypes—pants that solved the “too baggy or too tight” dilemma. When customers tried them, 90% bought, and a quarter ordered multiple pairs. This obsession with one product created an authentic foundation for brand trust. Dunn even delayed investor talks until he could prove traction through real sales, a model that ensured creative focus over speculative hype.

His experience refutes the myth of overnight success. Great companies like Google and Warby Parker also began by mastering one product—a clean search box, a pair of glasses—before branching out.

Empathy and Iteration

Likewise, Scott Belsky explains that great products emerge from empathy and iteration. You must imagine the user’s first fifteen seconds and design around it, he writes. His “Cycle of Simplicity Loss” describes how most products start lean, grow bloated with features, and lose users to simpler alternatives (akin to Dieter Rams’s “less, but better” philosophy). Staying simple requires humility: to eliminate extras and refocus on user needs again and again.

Design That Disappears

Julie Zhuo (Facebook) calls this principle “invisible design.” The more intuitive your product, the less visible its complexity becomes. She points to Dropbox as an example of technology that feels effortless because it mimics familiar mental models (folders, drag-and-drop). For Zhuo, magic arises from reducing steps, not adding them. This “invisible friction” design mindset transforms usability into delight—and sustains long-term engagement.

Essential takeaway:

Before you scale, simplify. Before you diversify, delight. Every enduring business starts with one problem solved brilliantly.

Jane ni Dhulchaointigh’s story of creating Sugru—a moldable rubber that lets anyone fix or improve things—illustrates a revolution in how products are made. Her philosophy is simple: your users are your collaborators. Innovation, she argues, no longer emerges from closed labs but from listening. By involving users before, during, and after launch, you aren’t just building a product; you’re building a movement.

Co-Creation From the Beginning

Dhuchlaointigh didn’t wait for a perfect prototype. She handed early samples to friends, tradespeople, and hobbyists, asking them to tinker and send photos. The feedback wall in her studio became her learning lab—an early proof of “open innovation.” Rather than command what to do, she showed users possibilities: illustrations of 100 quirky Sugru uses. These visuals invited creativity, sparking the collaborative culture that later fueled the brand’s success.

Designing for Sharing

When she launched, Sugru’s community didn’t just buy—they shared stories of repairs and hacks. This word-of-mouth marketing outperformed traditional advertising because it reinforced authenticity. Dhulchaointigh nurtured this with constant communication, featuring real user projects rather than polished ads. The message: “People like you are the innovators.”

This approach mirrors Henry Chesbrough’s concept of open innovation and Eric von Hippel’s research on “lead users”—people whose feedback drives innovation from the field. Sugru succeeded not by top-down product design but by bottom-up collaboration.

In practice:

Stop treating customers as test subjects. Treat them as co-designers. Their creativity can turn functional products into emotional experiences.

Sean Blanda’s essay “Acting (and Listening) Like a Human Being” exposes how businesses lose their soul when they treat customers like data points. He contrasts emotionless bureaucracy with the empathy-driven examples of Amazon, Airbnb, and Charles Schwab. Each company earned loyalty not by scaling faster, but by slowing down to listen, refine, and care.

Playing the Long Game

Jeff Bezos’s 1997 shareholder letter promised Amazon would never prioritize short-term profit over customer trust. This patience—investing earnings into lower prices, faster shipping, and Kindle innovation—earned the company decades of goodwill. Likewise, Airbnb’s founders followed mentor Paul Graham’s advice to “do things that don’t scale.” They personally stayed with hosts, shot better photos, and talked with guests face-to-face. This human intimacy built the foundation for today’s $10-billion platform.

Removing Pain Points

Charles Schwab applied similar empathy to finance by eliminating hidden fees and long phone trees. When customers call, they reach a real person who introduces themselves by city. Little gestures—like refunded ATM fees—communicate respect. These examples prove that humanity scales better than automation when it’s baked into design and policy.

Blanda’s broader lesson echoes the shift from industrial-era efficiency to relationship-era empathy (as Simon Sinek also stresses in Start With Why): If you want repeat customers, treat them as participants, not transactions.

Respect, patience, and honesty aren’t soft skills. They are growth strategies disguised as kindness.

Transparency may sound risky, but Joel Gascoigne, founder of Buffer, makes it a competitive advantage. He built his company on the mantra “default to transparency.” This means sharing everything: salary spreadsheets, revenues, equity, even internal emails. The result? More trust, better decisions, and stronger culture.

Transparency Creates Trust

When everyone knows the numbers and reasoning behind decisions, office politics vanish. People stop guessing motives and start collaborating. For example, Buffer publicly posts compensation formulas based on role, experience, and geography. This eliminates pay bias and reinforces fairness, much like John Mackey’s transparent model at Whole Foods.

Openness Fuels Innovation

Gascoigne argues that innovation depends on information flow. If you want employees to make smart choices, they need full context—echoing entrepreneur Keith Rabois’s point that “you can’t expect others to make the decisions you would make without all the information you have.” Sharing marketing plans, investor decks, or even mistakes invites feedback and ownership.

Buffer’s communication practices—cc’ing internal threads, public meeting notes, transparent investment documents—turn company walls into windows. Gascoigne notes that this openness attracts talent aligned with the same values. People who prefer secrecy or politics tend to self-select out.

In short:

Transparency isn’t a risk. It’s reputation insurance and collaboration fuel all in one.

Former nuclear submarine commander David Marquet disrupts 200 years of command-and-control thinking in “Building a Team of Leaders, Not Followers.” When he accidentally gave an impossible order on the USS Santa Fe and his officers obeyed it blindly, he realized the Navy had trained compliance, not competence. His revelation birthed a radical shift: instead of giving orders, he invited intent.

From Permission to Intention

Marquet asked his officers to speak in statements like “I intend to submerge the ship” rather than “Request permission to submerge.” This linguistic change made each leader think like the captain. As ownership grew, so did initiative and morale. Within a year, the Santa Fe went from worst-ranked to best in the fleet, and 10 of its officers later became submarine captains themselves.

Trust and Empowerment

True leadership, Marquet argues, is about creating an environment where people take responsibility joyfully, not under duress. It’s about trust as action, not agreement. This approach parallels Rich Armstrong’s “servant leadership” concept—seeing management not as control, but as helping others win.

Marquet closes with humility: empowerment isn’t easy; giving control feels risky. But, he says, “acts of greatness cannot be ordered.” The leader’s job is to remove fear so that greatness can emerge naturally.

In an age of creative work, control kills creativity. Intent fuels it.

Seth Godin ends Make Your Mark with a provocation disguised as a parable. When a child tells her aunt she’s “not old enough” to pour water and declares she’ll be ready “in thirty minutes,” Godin asks: When will you be ready? His answer: never. Readiness, he says, is a myth that keeps creators safe—and stuck.

Perfection vs. Presence

From history’s biggest innovations—the car, the telephone, Instagram—none launched “ready.” Every meaningful creation enters the world too early. The market and the maker both learn through exposure. Waiting for perfect conditions is actually hiding. True creative courage is saying, “Here, I made this,” even when the paint is wet.

Like Yamashita’s compass, Godin’s message returns us to purpose. You can prepare endlessly, but only action builds the path. Practice is preparation, but shipping is growth. (This echoes Belsky’s mantra: “Execution is the motor of creativity.”)

Making the Leap

Godin challenges our cultural obsession with fame and validation. Modern markets amplify celebrity over contribution, but meaningful impact still belongs to those who start before certainty. As he puts it, “Every idea that matters hits the market too soon.” Leaders, artists, and makers alike must embrace that emotional choice: to publish before perfect, to risk significance over safety.

Courage, not confidence, is what makes your mark. You’ll never be ready—create anyway.