Start With Why

In a world saturated with choices, why do some organizations effortlessly command loyalty while others struggle to differentiate themselves? Consider this striking paradox: Apple holds merely 3% of the global computer market, yet it leads entire industries and inspires devotion that borders on the religious. Southwest Airlines operates with the same planes and regulations as every other carrier, yet customers send them checks during tough times simply because they believe in the company. What separates these exceptional organizations from the countless others offering similar products and services?

The answer lies not in what these leaders do, but in why they do it. Most organizations and individuals communicate from the outside in, starting with what they offer, then explaining how they're different. But truly inspiring leaders reverse this approach entirely. They begin with a fundamental question that most never bother to ask: Why do we exist? This shift in perspective, seemingly simple yet profoundly powerful, holds the key to unlocking human motivation at its deepest level. When we understand and embrace this natural pattern of inspiration, we don't just build successful businesses or careers—we create movements that change the world.

On December 17, 1903, a small group witnessed history as Orville Wright achieved the first powered, controlled flight. Yet this triumph belonged not to the man everyone expected to succeed, but to two bicycle mechanics from Dayton, Ohio, who had been written off by the establishment.

Samuel Pierpont Langley possessed everything conventional wisdom deemed necessary for success. As secretary of the Smithsonian Institution and a respected academic, he commanded prestigious connections including Andrew Carnegie and Alexander Graham Bell. The War Department had granted him $50,000, a fortune at the time, to develop the first flying machine. His team included the finest engineers, using the best materials available. The press followed his every move, and the nation waited for his inevitable victory.

Meanwhile, the Wright brothers worked in obscurity. They had no funding, no government grants, no advanced degrees between them. Their "team" consisted of local enthusiasts who believed in their vision. When their experiments failed—and fail they did, repeatedly—they would pack five sets of parts, knowing that's how many crashes they'd endure in a single day. Yet they persevered with unwavering determination.

The difference wasn't in their capabilities or resources, but in their fundamental motivation. Langley was driven by the desire for fame and recognition—he wanted to be first. The Wright brothers were animated by something deeper: they believed that if they could solve the problem of flight, they would change the world. They envisioned the profound benefits their success would bring to humanity.

When we understand why we do what we do, failure becomes merely feedback, and obstacles transform into opportunities to prove our commitment. Purpose provides the fuel that sustains us through the inevitable challenges, while the pursuit of external rewards often crumbles under pressure.

In 1984, Apple launched the Macintosh with a commercial that depicted a gray, dystopian world where conforming masses sat before a giant screen, absorbing propaganda from Big Brother. A lone woman in vibrant red and white burst through the scene, hurling a sledgehammer at the screen and shattering the oppressive image. The tagline promised that "1984 won't be like 1984."

This wasn't merely an advertisement for a computer—it was a manifesto. Apple understood that people don't buy what you do; they buy why you do it. While other computer companies focused on processing speeds and technical specifications, Apple began with a fundamental belief: that technology should empower individuals to challenge the status quo and achieve their full potential.

This clarity of purpose has guided every Apple innovation since. The original Apple computer gave individuals the same computing power as corporations. The iPod challenged the music industry's outdated distribution model. The iPhone revolutionized not just phones, but the relationship between device manufacturers and service providers. Each product serves as tangible proof of Apple's core belief.

Notice that Apple's marketing never shows groups enjoying their products—always individuals. Their "Think Different" campaign featured rebels and innovators like Pablo Picasso and Martin Luther King Jr., celebrating the individual spirit that challenges conventional wisdom. Even the letter "i" in their product names reinforces their commitment to empowering the individual.

When companies start with why, their products become symbols that customers use to express their own identity and values. This is why people willingly pay premium prices for Apple products and why some even tattoo the Apple logo on their bodies—they're not just buying technology, they're declaring their belief in the power of thinking differently.

When Continental Airlines CEO Gordon Bethune arrived in 1994, he found a company in crisis. The airline ranked dead last in every performance metric, had filed for bankruptcy twice, and suffered through ten CEOs in a decade. Most devastating of all, employees were ashamed to work there, creating a toxic culture that poisoned every customer interaction.

Bethune recognized that the problem wasn't operational—it was cultural. The executive floor had been turned into a fortress, accessible only to senior leadership and protected by armed guards. Employees felt distrusted and undervalued, so they naturally treated customers the same way. The solution wasn't new systems or processes, but a return to fundamental human dignity.

Bethune immediately tore down the barriers. He eliminated the executive floor's security system, instituted an open-door policy, and regularly worked alongside baggage handlers at the airport. He implemented a profit-sharing program where every employee received the same bonus when the airline performed well—not added to their regular paycheck, but as a separate check with a message: "Thank you for helping make Continental one of the best."

The transformation was remarkable. Within one year, Continental had moved from worst to first in customer satisfaction while becoming profitable. The same planes, the same routes, the same people—but now they had a leader who demonstrated through his actions that the company existed to serve people, not just shareholders.

When leaders authentically embody their organization's deeper purpose, they create an environment where everyone feels valued and empowered to contribute their best efforts. Trust becomes the foundation upon which extraordinary performance is built.

Walmart's transformation reveals one of business's most painful ironies: success often plants the seeds of its own decline. Sam Walton built his retail empire on a simple belief—that if you take care of people, people will take care of you. This philosophy guided every decision, from his modest salary to his practice of working Saturdays alongside front-line employees.

Under Walton's leadership, Walmart was beloved by employees, customers, and communities. The company represented opportunity and fairness, bringing quality goods to underserved rural areas while treating workers with dignity and respect. Walton never forgot his roots, driving a pickup truck and getting his hair cut at the local barbershop because, as he said, "What am I supposed to haul my dogs around in, a Rolls-Royce?"

But when Walton died in 1992, something fundamental changed. Without their founder's physical presence to embody the company's deeper purpose, Walmart gradually shifted focus from why they existed to what they achieved. The driving motivation became efficiency and margins rather than serving people. This seemingly subtle change had profound consequences.

The scandals that followed—wage violations, discrimination lawsuits, community opposition—all stemmed from this loss of authentic purpose. The company that once championed the common person became seen as exploiting them. Communities that had once welcomed Walmart began fighting to keep them out.

Meanwhile, Costco, founded on similar principles but with leadership still committed to their original purpose, continued to thrive. CEO Jim Sinegal maintained modest compensation and genuine care for employees, resulting in dramatically lower turnover and higher customer loyalty.

When organizations lose sight of their deeper purpose and begin competing solely on metrics and market share, they inevitably become what they once sought to change. The challenge isn't avoiding success, but maintaining the authentic purpose that made success possible in the first place.

The search for authentic purpose requires looking backward, not forward. Like an arrow that must be pulled in the opposite direction before it can fly toward its target, discovering your why means examining your past experiences and the patterns that shaped your worldview.

Consider the story of Apple's founders, Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak. Their revolutionary vision wasn't born in a boardroom, but emerged from their experience of 1960s counterculture in Northern California. Surrounded by anti-establishment sentiment and a generation questioning authority, they saw technology as a way for individuals to challenge powerful institutions. Their first creation wasn't even a computer—it was a "Blue Box" that allowed people to bypass phone company charges, demonstrating their early commitment to empowering individuals against monopolistic forces.

This same purpose guided every subsequent innovation. The Apple computer gave individuals corporate-level computing power. The Macintosh challenged IBM's dominance with user-friendly design. iTunes revolutionized music distribution. The iPhone forced carriers to accept manufacturer control over features. Each breakthrough reflected their consistent belief in empowering the individual against established systems.

Finding your why isn't about inventing a purpose, but discovering the authentic beliefs that have always driven you. It requires examining the experiences that shaped your values, the injustices that moved you to action, and the vision of the world you want to help create. Your why exists already—it simply needs to be articulated and embraced.

Once you understand your authentic purpose, every decision becomes clearer. You know which opportunities align with your values and which ones, no matter how attractive, would compromise your integrity. You attract people who share your beliefs and naturally repel those who don't. Most importantly, you gain the unshakeable foundation needed to persevere through inevitable challenges and setbacks.

Throughout history, the most inspiring leaders and organizations have shared a common trait: they all started with why. Whether building companies, leading movements, or creating art, they began with a clear sense of purpose that transcended mere profit or recognition. This pattern isn't coincidental—it reflects how human beings are naturally wired to make decisions and form loyalties.

When we communicate from the inside out, beginning with our deepest beliefs and values, we speak directly to the part of the brain that controls decision-making and emotion. We inspire rather than manipulate, attract rather than convince, and create followers who believe what we believe rather than customers who simply want what we have. The result is not just success, but sustainable influence that can change industries and even the world itself.

The greatest tragedy isn't that most people and organizations struggle to succeed—it's that they achieve success while losing their soul. By starting with why and maintaining that clarity through growth and change, we can build lives and organizations that not only prosper but inspire others to pursue their own authentic purposes, creating a ripple effect of positive change that extends far beyond our immediate sphere of influence.