Think Remarkable

What does it really mean to live a remarkable life—one that not only fulfills you but also improves the world around you? In Think Remarkable: 9 Paths to Transform Your Life and Make a Difference, Guy Kawasaki and his co-author Madisun Nuismer argue that remarkability isn’t about fame, fortune, or status—it’s about leaving the world a better place because you were here. Drawing lessons from hundreds of interviews with extraordinary thinkers, activists, entrepreneurs, scientists, and creators, Kawasaki distills the essence of what it takes to grow, persevere, and lead with grace in a complex world.

Kawasaki, who helped launch the Apple Macintosh and later became Canva’s chief evangelist, writes as both a veteran innovator and a lifelong learner. He frames personal transformation through three interdependent stages: Growth (the mindset that pushes you to learn and adapt), Grit (the drive to persist and do meaningful work), and Grace (the humility and empathy to lift others as you climb). These three pillars, first highlighted in Jane Goodall’s foreword, provide a moral and practical compass for anyone seeking purpose and impact in chaotic times.

The Power of Growth, Grit, and Grace

The first stage, Growth, begins with adopting what psychologist Carol Dweck famously calls a growth mindset—believing that your abilities aren’t fixed but can expand through effort and feedback. Kawasaki likens this to planting acorns that may someday become mighty oaks: small actions that, nurtured over time, yield lasting change. He shares examples like Jane Goodall, whose lifelong devotion to chimpanzees began as a childhood dream inspired by a book; Julia Child, who reinvented herself from wartime spy to world-renowned chef in her thirties; and NASA scientist Mark Rober, who went from designing Mars rovers to teaching physics through YouTube videos.

The second stage, Grit, is the fuel that helps you endure adversity and keep moving forward. Drawing on psychologist Angela Duckworth’s work, Kawasaki demonstrates grit through stories of innovators like Chris Bertish, who paddled solo across the Atlantic Ocean, and Andrea Lytle Peet, who completed fifty marathons despite an ALS diagnosis. Their tenacity embodies Kawasaki’s definition of doing “good shit”—pursuing projects and missions that solve real problems and spark change. He also stresses the value of transforming pain into purpose, as activists like Nancy Thompson (founder of Mothers Against Greg Abbott) and Olivia Julianna have done to turn outrage into organized movements.

Grace as the Final Frontier

The final stage, Grace, distinguishes remarkable people from merely successful ones. Grace entails empathy, humility, and the ability to serve others without ego. Kawasaki highlights leaders such as Carol Dweck, who modeled grace by attending her late chauffeur’s funeral, and MacKenzie Scott, who quietly donates billions without expecting recognition. Through grace, leadership becomes an act of service. It’s not just about achieving goals but creating environments where others can flourish—what psychologist Geoffrey Cohen calls “crafting good situations.”

In each stage, Kawasaki mixes personal stories—like losing his hearing and continuing to podcast through transcription software—with lessons from his guests on the Remarkable People podcast. He offers bite-sized wisdom rooted in humor and humility: “Make yourself indispensable,” “Savor your shit sandwich,” and “Take the high road—there’s less traffic there.” Every chapter provides tactical takeaways alongside inspiration: how to find mentors, how to deal with rejection, and even how to apologize sincerely.

Ultimately, Think Remarkable challenges you to see remarkableness not as a label but as a practice—a way of moving through the world with curiosity, courage, and compassion. You don’t need to be Steve Jobs or Jane Goodall; you only need to be willing to grow, persist, and give back. As Kawasaki writes, “If you do remarkable things and make a difference, people will call you remarkable—you couldn’t stop them if you tried.”

Growth begins with a mindset, a decision to see potential where others see limits. Kawasaki insists that you must first replace “Why is this happening to me?” with “What is this trying to teach me?” Inspired by Carol Dweck’s research in Mindset: The New Psychology of Success, he argues that intelligence, creativity, and skill aren’t fixed traits—they flourish through learning and deliberate effort. His own late-life experiments with hockey and surfing proved this firsthand: starting at forty-four and sixty, he realized that the ability to grow knows no age limit.

Surrounding Yourself with Growth

Individual effort matters, but environment is crucial. A growth mindset needs a growth environment—people and organizations that nurture experimentation, failure, and learning. Kawasaki encourages seeking out teams that welcome curiosity and diversity. Reference checks aren’t just for jobs but for mentors: ask whether they’ve changed disciplines, overcome hardship, or worked across cultures. Where you work shapes how far you can grow, and the presence of support determines whether you’ll keep pushing forward.

Embracing Change and Taking Baby Steps

Growth often means reinventing yourself, like NASA’s Mark Rober pivoting from aerospace engineering to science education or Wanda Harding switching from managing Mars missions to teaching high school physics. Kawasaki emphasizes that greatness rarely happens in leaps—it develops in “baby steps.” Write one blog post before you publish a book. Surf one small wave before you try Mavericks. “The long grind,” he says, “is what prepares you for lasting success.”

The Productive Power of Envy

Kawasaki flips envy into a motivator. He admits that as a teenager in Honolulu, seeing a classmate’s Ferrari ignited his ambition more than any noble cause. Steve Jobs, likewise, envied significance—he wanted to matter, even before he knew how. Not all motivation comes from altruism, and that’s okay. “The most important thing,” Kawasaki notes, “is that you are motivated, so don’t stress about the source.”

Heroes and Perspective

When setbacks strike, heroes provide context and courage. Kawasaki recounts the story of Stanley Andrisse, a former inmate who became a PhD scientist while still in prison. Andrisse’s persistence showed that even walls can’t stop growth when your will is stronger than circumstance. Similarly, activist Raquel Willis’s transformation—from a Black boy in the South to a transgender leader—embodies conviction and humility: we all must bloom where we’re planted, she says, trusting the “capacity for change.”

Growth, then, isn’t about perfection. It’s about planting acorns, staying curious, and tending to your environment. The first stage of thinking remarkable starts when you stop asking whether you can grow—and start asking how far.

Once you’ve built your foundation of growth, it’s time to get gritty. Kawasaki captures grit not as macho endurance but as meaningful perseverance—holding fast to what Angela Duckworth calls an “ultimate concern.” Doing “good sh*t,” he says, is the honest pursuit of meaningful, positive work—not busy work or flashy projects, but things that alleviate pain and create joy.

Creating Value for Yourself and Others

Grit often begins by solving your own problem and discovering others share it. Steve Wozniak designed Apple’s first computer simply because he wanted one. Bette Nesmith Graham invented Liquid Paper to fix typing mistakes she couldn’t stand. Their creations spread because they were born of authenticity, not market research. Kawasaki calls this “making what you want to use” — a practical form of creativity rooted in empathy.

Work Backwards and Jump the Curve

Visionary organizations, Kawasaki explains, reverse-engineer success by “working backward” from what customers need, not forward from what they already do. Amazon and Netflix excelled by anticipating user desires rather than following trends. To be remarkable, you must also “jump to the next curve.” Kodak’s downfall exemplifies the opposite—it invented the digital camera but clung to film. Those who define themselves by their tools instead of their purpose risk extinction.

Harnessing Indignation and Courage

“What pisses you off?” Kawasaki asks. Many great movements start from righteous anger. Nancy Thompson founded Mothers Against Greg Abbott out of frustration with harmful policies and created a viral community. Alleviating pain—literal or societal—is a noble form of grit. Whether through advocacy or innovation, grit means channeling emotion into constructive change.

Empathy through Action

Kawasaki introduces the Japanese business principle of genchi genbutsu (“go and see for yourself”). To design better cars, Toyota executives watched parents load strollers into vans. To understand asthma sufferers, consultant Martin Lindstrom made pharma executives breathe through straws. Seeing becomes being. Empathy, Kawasaki reminds us, should lead to compassion—doing something about what you see.

Grit ultimately means doing work that matters, persevering through rejection, and caring so much you can’t quit. As activist Tyler Shultz learned when he exposed the fraud at Theranos: integrity often carries heavy costs—but that’s the price of doing good sh*t.

Grace crowns the journey of remarkableness. After growth and grit, you must lead with humility and kindness. Kawasaki redefines leadership as “helping others succeed,” not commanding them. Grace shows in how you act when no one’s watching—how you treat the waiter, how you listen to dissent, how you admit you’re wrong. Without grace, success curdles into arrogance.

Creating Good Situations

Psychologist Geoffrey Cohen’s concept of “situation crafting” anchors this stage. Great leaders design environments where people can do their best work—fostering growth, feedback, belonging, and safety. For instance, crafting a truly trans-inclusive workplace requires policy changes, advocacy, and constant listening. Grace operationalizes empathy into structure.

Leading with Humility

Take Carol Dweck, who quietly attended her chauffeur’s funeral, showing respect where no publicity existed. Or MacKenzie Scott, who gives billions without requiring reports or recognition. Kawasaki calls this “success oblige”: using privilege to uplift others. Grace is generosity multiplied by humility.

The Graceful Negotiator

Barry Nalebuff teaches “give the other side what they want first.” Kawasaki adds: write their victory speech, fight fire with water, rarely say no—say “yes, if…” Graceful negotiators blend assertiveness with empathy. They expand the pie instead of haggling over crumbs. That mentality also appears in how we hire—seek people better than yourself and prioritize skill over credentials.

The Power of Listening and Silence

Dan Lyons’s book STFU transformed Kawasaki’s approach to leadership: talk less, listen more. Silence demonstrates control and respect. So does saying “I don’t know.” As General Stanley McChrystal and Ginni Rometty (IBM’s former CEO) both modeled, vulnerability from the top fosters credibility and innovation at every level.

Leadership through grace isn’t glamorous. It’s patient, personal, and practical. You draw boundaries, reduce drama, and empower others. It’s choosing to be kind rather than right, and humble rather than loud.

Underneath Growth, Grit, and Grace lies an emotional truth: vulnerability is not weakness but strength in motion. Kawasaki devotes early chapters to helping readers embrace setbacks and fear rather than denying them. Everyone, he insists, gets wounded; the difference is whether you see wounds as reasons to quit or chances to grow.

“Go On, Be Brave”

Few embody this better than Andrea Lytle Peet, an ALS patient who completed marathons in all fifty states. When the Boston Marathon declined to let her participate because of her recumbent trike, she simply raced the course the day before. Her story reframes despair into defiance. For Peet, “time will pass either way,” so why not live fully? Vulnerability is the birthplace of resilience.

Learning from Failure

Apple’s many flops—the Lisa, the Newton—didn’t doom it; they paved the road to the Macintosh and iPhone. Failure, Kawasaki notes, is destructive only if you don’t learn from it. Walt Disney was fired for lacking imagination. Oprah Winfrey was demoted for being “unfit for television.” These examples prove that vulnerability often precedes reinvention.

Turning Doubt into Drive

Jonathan Conyers’s journey—from a boy with crack-addicted parents to a respiratory therapist—unfolded through doubt and defiance. Teachers dismissed him; he turned their judgment into fuel. Kawasaki suggests treating critics as unwitting coaches. They give you grit, free of charge. Every doubter is a motivator in disguise.

If Growth teaches plant, and Grit teaches persist, Vulnerability teaches adapt. When you stop hiding your cracks and start using them as openings for light, you become not just stronger but more human—and that, says Kawasaki, is the essence of being remarkable.

“You can’t connect the dots looking forward, only backward,” Steve Jobs once said. Kawasaki expands on this idea with his metaphor of planting acorns—you never know which will grow into towering oaks. Growth isn’t linear, and serendipity often decides who thrives. By planting many seeds, you increase your odds of remarkable outcomes.

Trusting the Dots

Kawasaki recounts how a series of unplanned dots—an encouraging teacher, a Stanford friendship, a TEDx interview with Jane Goodall—connected over fifty years to put him onstage with one of his heroes. Most breakthroughs feel accidental in hindsight. The lesson: don’t over-control your life. Cultivate diversity of experience and let time reveal connections.

Interests vs. Passions

Reject the cliché “follow your passion.” Passions evolve from interests after long exposure, like caterpillars becoming butterflies. Julia Child discovered cooking in her thirties; Joe Foster built Reebok after decades in the family shoe trade. Start with curiosity; let mastery kindle passion. (Cal Newport’s So Good They Can’t Ignore You makes a similar argument.)

Build Random Connections

Some of Kawasaki’s most meaningful partnerships—like interviewing Leon Panetta and Brandi Chastain—emerged from surfing acquaintances. “Smile, be curious, let others talk,” he advises. Random connections compound like interest. When you make yourself open to luck, luck finds you.

Discernment and Seeing What’s Missing

Finally, Kawasaki urges you to develop discernment, the ability to sift good data from bad. Ask, “What’s missing?” when experts tout easy success stories. Remember that most CEOs of billion-dollar startups do have college degrees; outliers like Jobs and Gates are the exception. Wisdom often hides in the unseen half of any pattern. In life, plant many seeds, but also weed them wisely.

In Stage Two’s finale, Kawasaki turns to the art of persuasion. To make change happen, you must share your dream so others see it as their own. Selling here doesn’t mean manipulation—it means storytelling, empathy, and persistence.

Getting Your Foot in the Door

Temple Grandin’s “30-Second Wow Pitch” illustrates this principle. Instead of describing her ability, she immediately shows it—drawing a remarkable cattle-handling design. Similarly, Warby Parker lets customers virtually try on frames. The lesson: demonstration beats declaration. The goal of a pitch is not to close the deal but to stay in the conversation.

The Gospel of Bob Cialdini

Kawasaki leans heavily on persuasion science. From Bob Cialdini, he borrows tools like social proof (peer endorsements), reciprocity (help first), consistency (honor commitments), and unity (shared identity). Whether you’re convincing investors or teenagers, these principles work because they appeal to humanity, not logic alone.

Stories That Stick

A Nordstrom clerk who refunded tires—despite Nordstrom never selling tires—became an enduring legend. Facts are forgettable; stories endure. Aaker’s branding advice echoes Kawasaki’s theme: people don’t buy products, they buy narratives. Tell stories that are authentic, emotional, and easy to retell.

Resilience in Rejection

Melanie Perkins of Canva heard “no” 299 times before she got a yes. Shellye Archambeau reframed rejections as “not yet.” Persistence in persuasion is about reframing resistance. Kawasaki’s advice: if you don’t hear “no” enough, you’re not asking for enough.

Selling a dream with integrity, humility, and persistence transforms sales into evangelism—what Kawasaki has practiced his whole career. To “think remarkable,” you must be willing to share your acorns with the world.

The closing stage of Think Remarkable is about ethics—how to behave when you have power, success, or visibility. Kawasaki calls this “taking the high road,” and he insists it’s where true remarkableness reveals itself. Grace in action isn’t preachy—it’s practical.

Valuing People and Counting Blessings

Small gestures often reveal big character. Carol Dweck attending her driver’s funeral shows the quiet depth of valuing others. Gratitude, Kawasaki writes, multiplies fulfillment: take stock of your health, your education, your relationships, your work. “You can tell a lot about a person,” he adds, “by what they do when there’s no money or glory involved.”

Helping and Overdelivering

True success triggers responsibility. Kawasaki modernizes the old term noblesse oblige into success oblige: those who’ve gained should give. The local taco shop that trusted his unpaid claim for missing food exemplifies this ethos—overdelivering creates loyalty that no marketing can buy. Helping others, especially strangers, not only changes lives but improves your own mental health (“helper’s high”).

Apologize and Ignore the Small Stuff

A sincere apology, says communication expert Lisa Leopold, contains four simple parts: “I’m sorry,” specific ownership, empathy, and timing. Skip excuses. Likewise, not every slight deserves a duel. When a neighbor once mistook Kawasaki for a gardener, his father advised, “Don’t make yourself crazy—she was probably right statistically.” Give grace, not grievance.

Redefine Success

Measure life not by wealth or fame but by impact, fulfillment, relationships, growth, resilience, and contentment. These six metrics, Kawasaki writes, define a legacy worth leaving. As Stacey Abrams told him, living remarkably means being curious, solving problems, and doing good. That’s growth, grit, and grace in one creed.

Taking the high road is the hardest but surest route to meaning. It is, as Kawasaki concludes, the road with the least traffic—because few have the courage or patience to stay on it.