The Bold Ones

Have you ever felt a restless urge to defy the rules, to challenge the way things have always been done, and to carve out your own space in the world? Shawn Kanungo’s The Bold Ones: Innovate and Disrupt to Become Truly Indispensable explores exactly this impulse — and turns it into a lifelong practice of innovation. Kanungo argues that boldness isn’t reserved for entrepreneurs or tech prodigies; it’s a mindset of reinvention available to anyone, anywhere, no matter the setting or job title.

Kanungo’s core contention is simple but revolutionary: the future doesn’t belong to companies, brands, or institutions. It belongs to individuals — people brave enough to challenge orthodoxy and turn disruption into personal advantage. He calls these people Bold Ones. They are individuals who see possibilities others overlook, rebel against stale conventions, and use creativity and technology to reshape their industries — often from within, rather than by leaving them.

The DNA of Boldness

Throughout the book, Kanungo explores what makes these Bold Ones tick. Through stories like Ken Kutaragi’s creation of Sony’s PlayStation, Misty Copeland’s rise to prima ballerina against racial and cultural odds, and his own adventures as an innovation strategist at Deloitte, Kanungo shows that being bold means combining curiosity with courage. Like Kutaragi tinkering with Nintendo consoles in secret, Bold Ones are driven by deep fascination — an insatiable need to improve what already exists. They disrupt not because they want chaos, but because they crave progress.

Kanungo emphasizes that being bold is not just about founding companies or going solo. Many of history’s great disruptors — from Galileo to Rosa Parks — worked within systems yet fundamentally altered them. By shifting focus from organizational disruption to individual disruption, he reframes innovation from a corporate buzzword into an intensely personal tool for self-evolution.

The Era of the Ones

Kanungo calls our time the Era of the Ones — an era where individuals, not corporations, drive change. He points to the rise of the creator economy — YouTubers like Logan Paul, solo educators like Rob Percival, and digital thought leaders like Ben Thompson — as proof that companies now chase individuals for influence rather than the other way around. We live in a landscape where one ingenious accountant, one daring journalist, or one outspoken nurse can disrupt an entire industry from their laptop.

But Kanungo adds nuance: being a Bold One doesn’t always mean quitting your job. Sometimes it means transforming your company from the inside out, leveraging institutional resources while injecting individuality. In his own Deloitte career, Kanungo proved that innovation can flourish within large organizations, showing how one “crazy idea” could lead to entirely new client experiences and redefine internal cultures.

Innovation as Identity

At the heart of Kanungo’s argument is a redefinition of identity. The Bold One isn’t just innovative—they are restless learners who refuse to be confined by status or success. Kanungo recalls seeing entrenched experts—comfortable but stagnant—lose touch with emerging reality. True Bold Ones, he writes, “don’t want to get left behind.” They aren’t addicted to reputation or title, but to the pursuit of reinvention.

Drawing from thinkers like Peter Diamandis and Heraclitus, Kanungo reminds us that change is constant, but the rate of change is accelerating exponentially. It’s a tidal wave threatening anyone who stands still. The solution? Cultivate an insatiable need to innovate, and combine it with a hidden passion — a talent or fascination you’ve neglected. Maybe you’re researching AI on your lunch breaks or designing sneakers at night. These personal interests aren’t distractions; they’re clues to your future disruptive potential.

Why This Matters

In a world of converging industries, automation, and mass individualization, complacency is fatal. Bold Ones thrive because they continually adapt, seeing disruption not as threat but as opportunity. Kanungo’s argument echoes similar themes found in Originals by Adam Grant and Think Again by the same author — both celebrate intellectual rebellion — but Kanungo elevates the narrative with cultural diversity, pop-culture humor, and deeply personal introspection.

By the end of The Bold Ones, you see that Kanungo isn’t offering a how-to guide but a manifesto for living boldly. The PlayStation’s birth, Cardi B’s rise, and Hasan Minhaj’s comedy success all symbolize the same truth: the next great disruption begins not in boardrooms but within people who question the obvious and pursue the impossible. You are not a cog in a machine—you are potentially the machine’s redesign. The future belongs to those who dare to innovate, to start small, to get loud, and to act boldy, even when it feels uncomfortable.

Shawn Kanungo’s second major idea turns one of business’s most cherished ideals upside down: success can be dangerous. In Chapter 2, he shows how comfort, reputation, and mastery—once achieved—can quietly strangle creativity. Through vivid anecdotes from the worlds of hip-hop, sports, and academia, Kanungo explores how past wins become future obstacles.

The Cardi B Conflict

Kanungo opens with the story of rapper Cardi B, dismissed early in her career as a non-serious reality TV personality. Yet within one year, she released “Bodak Yellow” and stunned critics, breaking records and rewriting hip-hop’s gender norms. Cardi B succeeded precisely because she rejected “best practices” and refused to rely on conventional expertise. Meanwhile, the industry gatekeepers—like radio host Ebro—suffered from their own success blindness. They were too entrenched in what had worked before to recognize that disruption was coming from someone unlike them.

The Mirage of Best Practices

Kanungo recalls his consulting days at Deloitte where established teams recycled ideas labeled as “best practices.” Clients found them uninspired. Real progress emerged only when he treated each project as a blank canvas rather than a formula. What worked yesterday, he argues, is automatically old today. This echoes Nassim Taleb’s critique in Antifragile: systems that resist chaos decay under their own rigidity. Innovation, by contrast, thrives on surprise and experimentation.

The Russell Westbrook Trap

Next, Kanungo introduces the “Russell Westbrook Trap,” named after the NBA player who clings to his triple-double statistics even as his teams lose. The metaphor captures how personal identity—rooted in former victories—can become the biggest obstacle to reinvention. Professionals love praise and status, but these external rewards cement behaviors that may no longer serve. To escape, Kanungo urges readers to strip away hierarchy and ego, placing themselves in “lower-status” roles to relearn humility. Make coffee. Take the middle seat. Fetch lunch. Survival of the bold depends on regularly resetting the self-image to zero.

The Art of Starting from Zero

True disruption, Kanungo suggests, means going from 100 to 0—voluntarily abandoning comfort to start fresh. He illustrates this with producer Jermaine Dupri, who revolutionized hip-hop repeatedly by reinventing himself with each new act—Kriss Kross, Da Brat, Usher, even Weezer. Dupri never assumed his past style guaranteed future success; he treated each collaboration as an apprenticeship. This mirrors the Buddhist concept of “beginner’s mind” described by Shunryu Suzuki in Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind: wisdom comes from remaining perpetually curious.

Letting Go of Identity

Kanungo’s practical advice is radical but freeing. Drop the titles. Reject the need to always be the expert. When speaking at your company, substitute stories for résumés. Tell what you did, not what you are. The pie chart of prestige—degrees, designations, promotions—can look impressive but offers no adaptability. His own consulting transformation came from ignoring protocol, experimenting, and risking mild insubordination. That willingness to fail reshaped his career. “Bosses don’t say ‘I was wrong,’” Kanungo jokes. “They say, ‘We were right.’”

If success is seductive, boldness is humbling. Innovation demands not just fresh tools but a fresh self-image. You can’t disrupt an industry if you’re afraid to disrupt your own identity. In Kanungo’s world, to stay indispensable you must be willing to become replaceable—because reinvention always starts at zero.

In Chapter 3, Kanungo offers a framework for how innovation actually happens in everyday life. Using sportswriter Bill Simmons’s evolution from ESPN employee to creator of The Ringer, he shows that massive disruption rarely begins with quitting — it starts with chipping away at the edges of your expertise and making small, adjacent moves that expand your surface area of exploration.

Escaping the Illusion of the Core

Most professionals, Kanungo argues, are hypnotized by what he calls the “Illusion of the Core.” We’re trained to focus tightly on what we’re best at — our primary skills, our industry corner, our specialization. Yet overfocus blinds us to new markets or adjacent opportunities where innovation lives. Like magicians who distract us with what’s visible, companies fixate on their “core,” missing changes happening outside their line of sight. The antidote is exploration — looking beyond your domain, learning fringe skills, and connecting with outsider perspectives.

Denting the Outside

When consulting with Walmart executives, Kanungo encouraged them to “chip” instead of overhaul — making small experiments at the edges of retail rather than annihilating their core business overnight. This gentle process, which he calls “denting the outside,” bypasses organizational immune systems that react violently to large-scale change. You don’t base-jump on day one; you learn to skydive first. Similarly, when Kanungo decided to pivot his own career, he didn’t quit Deloitte outright—he transitioned from accounting to consulting, then from internal innovation to external speaking. Step by step, he chipped his way toward his next big move.

The 3% Rule: Remix and Reimagine

Borrowing from designer Virgil Abloh’s creative philosophy, Kanungo introduces the “3% Rule”: innovation doesn’t mean inventing from scratch. Instead, take existing ideas and remix them with just 3 percent of your own perspective to make them feel fresh. Off-White’s hybrid of streetwear and luxury fashion upended traditional style; likewise, small tweaks in one field can yield huge results in another. Henry Ford borrowed his assembly-line concept from meatpacking plants; Steve Jobs borrowed the Apple Store layout from hotel lobbies. Innovation is combinatorial—new successes come from recombining old successes with unique flair.

Be Wasteful to Be Creative

Finally, Kanungo dispels the myth that efficiency equals excellence. True creativity is messy, experimental, and often wasteful. He references the digital artist Beeple, who created 5,000 daily digital sketches before selling one NFT for $69 million. Like Lionel Messi’s “17 years and 114 days to become an overnight success,” wasteful practice builds readiness for big wins. Businesses obsessed with zero waste forget that innovation requires exploration without immediate payoff. Play. Experiment. Lose small so you can win big later.

By denting the outside and remixing the known, you create momentum. You don’t need to leap blindly into unknown territory. You just need to chip steadily toward it. In Kanungo’s hands, innovation feels less like rebellion and more like rhythm—a slow, confident beat that pushes industries forward.

In Chapter 4, Kanungo takes a provocative turn by comparing modern marketing and leadership to the art of building cults. Whether led by pirates, pop icons, or entrepreneurs, real disruption depends on creating a devoted following — a small but committed group of believers who champion your ideas. He draws parallels between the pirate queen Ching Shih and Rihanna to show how boldness, community, and authenticity fuel enduring influence.

Inspiring the Underdogs

Both Ching Shih and Rihanna began outside the mainstream: Shih rose from sex worker to pirate commander, Rihanna from Caribbean outsider to beauty mogul. Each inspired the overlooked. Rihanna’s Fenty Beauty and Savage X Fenty celebrated diversity long ignored by competitors, while Ching Shih united thousands of warring pirates under a code of respect. Kanungo reminds you that cultural movements start at the fringes. To build loyalty, focus on underserved groups, not mass markets. As in religion or politics, authentic voices resonate most strongly with the disaffected.

Creating the Halo Effect

Do one thing brilliantly, and everything else you touch gains borrowed credibility — what psychologist Edward Thorndike labeled the “halo effect.” Kanye West transformed Adidas’s identity with his Yeezy brand; Michelin gained luxury status by rating restaurants. Kanungo urges readers to build a personal moat — a unique fusion of skills or style that makes you unforgettable. Combine passions into memorable formats, like the finance duo Kiersten and Julien Saunders who mix money advice with cooking in their show Money on the Table. Authentic quirkiness is the new authority.

Capitalizing on Fractured Media

Kanungo shows how the digital age has multiplied opportunities to connect with niche audiences. Gone are the gatekeepers; everyone with a smartphone now runs their own media empire. From Joe Rogan’s podcast to Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s social strategy, individuals can reach millions by being specific, not generic. To lead a movement, find your medium — video, audio, writing, live events — and ship your work consistently. Boldness means publishing when others hesitate.

The Paradox of Piracy

Here lies Kanungo’s central paradox: If you want to reach the masses, start niche. When you serve a small group deeply, your message resonates universally. Rihanna’s inclusive vision began with underserved skin tones and eventually engulfed an entire industry. Ching Shih’s pirate confederation, built for survival, became the most organized naval force in Asia. You grow big by thinking small.

Avoiding the Dark Side

Cults are powerful but perilous. Leaders risk becoming insulated by praise. Kanungo warns against the echo chamber of success. He cites Howard Stern’s evolution from shock-jock provocateur to introspective interviewer as a model of continual reinvention. To stay grounded, build your own “advisory team” of truth-tellers — friends who challenge your blind spots. Even pirate queens need anchors. Ching Shih, he notes, ultimately negotiated a peaceful retirement, proving that true disruptors evolve before the market forces them to.

In modern culture, your ability to galvanize a tribe determines your impact. Kanungo’s lesson is timeless: find the forgotten, give them a voice, and keep humility when success arrives. In other words, lead like a pirate — with boldness, code, and conscience.

Chapter 5 introduces a liberating idea: every world-changing innovation starts as something laughable. People mock what they don’t understand. Kanungo retells how Indian tycoon Jamsetji Tata turned ridicule into revolution, creating industries that freed his nation from colonial rule. From Tata to Twitch, the pattern repeats — the future looks foolish until it succeeds.

The Contrarian Principle

Building on a framework by LinkedIn’s Peter Weinberg, Kanungo explains why only contrarians win big. In the “Contrarian Matrix,” combining independence with accuracy is priceless. If you’re right and align with consensus, you gain marginal wins. If you’re right and alone, you reap exponential rewards. Jamsetji Tata’s decision to build a cotton mill far inland seemed absurd to his peers — but the isolation gave him independence from colonial control and proximity to rural labor. Contrarian vision multiplied value.

The Power of Creepy Innovation

Innovation always feels unsettling at first. Facebook’s early “Newsfeed” feature seemed invasive; Airbnb looked insane; Amazon storing credit cards sounded risky. But today, these “creepy” ideas define modern convenience. Kanungo encourages watching what makes people uncomfortable — anxiety signals transformation. If an idea feels weird but keeps reappearing, you may have found tomorrow’s normal.

Failed Forward: The Bezos Rule

Jeff Bezos famously said, “A single big winning bet can cover the cost of many losers.” Kanungo echoes this: failure is not just acceptable but necessary. Amazon’s flops — from Pets.com to Fire Phone — paved the way for Prime and Web Services. Innovation is a batting average game; one grand slam erases a hundred strikeouts. The secret is persistence and humor. Laugh when others laugh at you and keep swinging.

The “What Will People Say?” Syndrome

Drawing from his South Asian upbringing, Kanungo describes the devastating cultural question: “What will people say?” It’s the dagger that kills creative risk before it starts. Bold Ones confront this fear by taking immediate action when doubt appears—send the email, post the idea, call the premier. His own story of creating documentary-style consulting pitches instead of PowerPoints began as a risk but ended as a brand-defining move. If you want the last laugh, you must embrace embarrassment.

True disruptors, Kanungo concludes, turn cynicism into currency. When everyone laughs, lean in. Every great innovation—from Tata’s cotton mills to Twitch livestreams—was once considered absurd. Disruption isn’t serious at first. It’s funny. Until it’s not.

In Chapter 6, Kanungo reveals what he calls the “dirty little secret” of innovation: discovery is more powerful than invention. Borrowing from Newton’s insight about gravity—already present but unseen—he argues that breakthrough ideas often hide in plain sight. Bold Ones aren’t necessarily creators; they’re discoverers of unspoken truths and untapped patterns.

The ROI of Secrets

Kanungo’s research with Monitor Deloitte found that most corporate value comes from transformational initiatives, yet companies invest only about 10% in them. Like an iceberg, the deepest secrets yield the largest payoffs. He divides secrets into three layers: obvious secrets (quick wins), hard-to-find secrets (psychological insights), and deepest, darkest secrets (cross-industry breakthroughs). The deeper you dig, the richer the reward.

Obvious Secrets and the Joy of Discovery

Consider Michele Romanow’s funding innovation. While filming hundreds of Dragons’ Den pitches, she noticed a simple mismatch: founders needed cash for predictable ad campaigns, but investors demanded equity. Her small adjustment—lending based on marketing data instead—spawned Clearco, a billion-dollar firm. Kanungo himself uncovered a marketing loophole on TikTok by targeting hashtags instead of demographics, yielding extraordinary ROI for $18 in ads. Each discovery began as observation, not invention.

Hard-to-Find Secrets

The second layer requires studying human behavior like a scientist. Kanungo retells Howard Schultz’s discovery that Italian coffee bars thrived on intimacy, not caffeine. By watching how people interacted — not just what they said — Schultz transformed coffee into an experience. Following people, noticing odd habits, and reimagining products through psychology leads to value no survey can predict. Customers don’t know what they want; they reveal it through rituals.

Deepest, Darkest Secrets

At the final level, innovation jumps industries. Cai Lun’s invention of paper came from observing wasps. Henry Ford’s assembly line from slaughterhouses. Kanungo urges you to connect dots between unrelated fields—a “That’s funny” sensation Isaac Asimov described as the real spark of discovery. When ideas from one world apply unexpectedly in another, industries collide, and transformation begins.

Getting Dirty

To find secrets, Kanungo insists, you must get your fingers dirty—go where data lives, observe processes, and ask naive questions. Romanow’s revelation came after listening to 250 founders in two weeks. Immersion breeds clarity. Ivory towers rarely birth secrets; trenches do. The same method helped Clearco inadvertently solve gender bias by automating funding through algorithms, funding women founders ten times more than rivals.

Discovering secrets transforms habitual observation into profit. Stop trying to invent; start trying to notice. The world’s next revolution may already exist — you just haven’t seen it yet.

In Chapter 7, Kanungo evolves his cult concept from Chapter 4 into personal scale. You don’t need a million followers to make impact; you just need one. Through stories of Mary Meeker, Barack Obama’s HOPE campaign, and author Bob Goff’s radical customer intimacy, Kanungo teaches how to cultivate deep loyalty through individuality and generosity.

Declaring Independence

Most employees live in their company’s shadow, Kanungo warns. His former colleague “Hitch,” despite brilliance, lost his job unnoticed because all his work was branded “Deloitte.” Build personal brand equity; make your name visible. He cites James Carbary’s Sweet Fish Media, which even pays employees to craft personal content—proof that when individuals shine, companies benefit. Independence is not rebellion; it’s insurance.

Creating Something Catchy

Borrowing from Emerson, Kanungo insists: ideas must be “round and solid as a ball.” In other words, they must be catchy. Obama’s HOPE poster and Trump’s “Make America Great Again” slogan translate complex visions into viral symbols. Meeker did it with her digestible Internet Trends Report. To stand out, give your idea a memorable angle, be it drones, data visualizations, or dioramas like artist Duane Shoots Toys—turning hobbies into spectacular media.

Overdeliver to Your Fan

Scale comes later; intimacy comes first. Kanungo personally replies to every single LinkedIn comment, proving that small gestures yield lifelong loyalty. He invites followers into his work, shares stages, gives credit generously, and emphasizes listening. One thank-you can become ten advocates. Consistency solidifies credibility: keep showing up, even when unrecognized. Like Meeker continuing her report after the internet crash, persistence builds devotion.

Web 3.0 and Shared Ownership

Finally, Kanungo connects fan intimacy to the emerging Web 3.0 landscape, in which creators and supporters share ownership through digital ledgers and crypto-enabled royalties. Now, a fan who shares your work can literally profit from its reach. This new digital architecture embodies Kanungo’s philosophy: relational disruption. Influence becomes partnership; fandom becomes investment.

Whether through Meeker’s persistence or Goff’s radical accessibility—publishing his phone number in his books—the point stands: greatness is intimate. You only need one person to believe in you. Serve them profoundly, and you’ll serve the world.

Chapter 8 is Kanungo’s blueprint for momentum. Through comedian Hasan Minhaj’s leap from obscurity to Netflix fame, he shows that success isn’t random — it’s engineered. Hot streaks, he explains, are periods when exploration meets opportunity, creating lightning strike moments of sustained impact.

How Hot Streaks Work

Drawing on Dashun Wang’s Kellogg research, Kanungo distinguishes two phases: exploration and exploitation. You experiment broadly, then narrow focus on discovered strengths. Minhaj explored comedy clubs and storytelling before exploiting that hybrid skill to dominate political satire. Hot streaks follow patience — not luck. They arise when curiosity turns into craftsmanship.

Stacking Gifts and Placing Bets

Kanungo advises “gift stacking”: fusing multiple talents to form a niche no one else can occupy. He combines visual art, humor, and consulting strategy. Poet Rupi Kaur merges writing, illustration, and performance. Each stack sharpens differentiation. Then, make small bets on yourself — incremental risks like new projects, collaborations, or skills. Exploration must be tactile.

Engineering Lightning Strikes

Some streaks can be planned. Kanungo draws from the company MSCHF, which manufactures anticipation through periodic product drops. Their outrageous releases—like sneakers filled with holy water—keep them perpetually in the spotlight. You too can create Lightning Strikes by setting dates, creating intensity, involving cosigners, promising boldly, and repeating. Momentum thrives on rhythm.

Jump In

Many resist bold opportunities—they’re hodads, surfers who watch waves but never ride. When COVID canceled Kanungo’s keynotes, he saw a lightning window to reinvent virtual speeches. By converting a theatre into a cinematic studio, he delivered more events than ever before. Hot streaks happen when preparation meets courage. Exploration reveals waves; exploitation rides them.

Momentum is mastery. Disruption rewards those who start early, ship often, and strike boldly. The only rule Kanungo insists on: don’t wait for the storm — be the lightning.

Kanungo’s final concept zooms out from individual innovation to cultural transformation. Using the legend of Egyptian pharaoh Hatshepsut and basketball star Vince Carter, he illustrates how true Bold Ones rewrite collective imagination. Disruption isn’t just business — it’s the reshaping of human belief.

Show, Don’t Tell: The Vince Carter Effect

When Vince Carter’s 2000 Slam Dunk contest performance electrified Canada, he didn’t just win; he created an era of airborne athletes. Inspiration multiplies through vision. Kanungo urges presenting ideas visually through immersive experiences, films, or prototypes. Like Carter’s gravity-defying dunks or Hatshepsut’s monuments, visuals engrave imagination deeper than arguments. Innovation lives in the eyes before the mind.

Storytelling as Culture Design

Stories shape civilization. Hatshepsut legitimized her reign by crafting divine origin myths, while brands today like Crumbl and Dirty Dough use narrative battles to win public sympathy. Every disruptor needs an origin story, a villain, a bit of magic, and simplicity. Kanungo connects this to Joseph Campbell’s hero journey — modern innovators become mythmakers who people follow not for data but for drama.

The MAYA Principle

Borrowing from design theory — “Most Advanced Yet Acceptable” — Kanungo demonstrates how ancient and modern leaders introduce radical ideas without alienating audiences. Automatic elevators once terrified users until engineers added soothing voices and “stop” buttons. Hatshepsut paired her unprecedented kingship with familiar rituals. Boldness must be strategic: show the future gently enough for people to walk into it.

The Resurrection of Ideas

Kanungo ends with a metaphor borrowed from Joseph Campbell’s heroic resurrection. Disruptors rarely vanish; their influence echoes in successors. Hatshepsut paved the way for Cleopatra; today’s female CEOs and leaders trace lineage to her courage. He likens this to Sam Zemurray, the “Banana Man,” whose fruit trade reshaped politics and created modern Chiquita. Boldness, when sustained by vision, transcends time and industry.

Kanungo closes with a challenge: ask why systems exist, question inefficiency, and act. Boldness isn’t reckless—it’s deliberate courage that changes not just companies but cultures. Every bold move becomes a future myth. Make yours worth telling.