Todd Henry's Die Empty - a review

I don’t think I have ever endorsed a book with such a controversial title. For me it is without any import – I rather like the idea of dying empty, having used up each and every ounce of creativity and passion. But a surprising number of people react negatively to the title and the concept. I have used this book several times now teaching creativity courses, and there is always one or two people who shrink from the title.

If you are one of those, I apologise, but I also urge you to overcome you initial reaction because Todd Henry’s book is really quite exceptional and has been a major source of creative inspiration to me for some time now.

Todd Henry

In Die Empty, Todd Henry offers some indispensable advice on avoiding the aimless life and recognising the potential for happiness here and now. Henry is one of those ubiquitous modern marketing gurus in the Seth Godin mould who have sprung up in the age of podcasting and social media with a unique style of life and career advice specifically aimed at a media and technology savvy generation. He is always interesting, and never more so than in this book.

It is also quite brutal advice, encouraging people not to be self-deluded. Henry offers the example of the hapless, hopeless contestant of the TV reality talent show, the one destined for the “worst of” show who is surrounded by well-meaning mothers and friends who encourage them in their delusions. Yes, well have innate talents, but in any cases these talents require a great deal of careful discernment, and can potentially be overshadowed by externally-imposed (or confected) dreams of greatness.

Neither is success necessarily about wealth or possessions. Henry is not of the “3 Ferraris” school of motivation, with a cheque for a million dollars pasted up on one’s ceiling. Not that there’s anything wrong with wanting some sort of material comfort, it is just that Henry suggests much of what fulfils us and uses our greatest talents may not necessarily be big moneyspinners. It is ultimately more important to create energising personal narratives built around more lasting motives.

Henry advises us all to take “small, calculated risks” each day in our quest to become greater and to be of greater use in this world. It is passion for our actions that drives us and makes us happy. The age of duty is perhaps over, at least for those of us living in the more privileged world. If we are not bound to take on work that will support our families and guarantee their welfare then we find our moral obligations in other places, principally in the direction of those vocations where we find ourselves belonging. Our moral duty has shifted to an obligation to make the most of our talents, and to use them in life-celebrating and fulfilling ways. To ignore these talents and focus instead on a mundane life is its own sort of sin.

It’s a challenging book, as the title indicates, and is not for readers who want to look for excuses. Henry tells us we have to acknowledge the areas of resistance in our lives (echoes of Steven Pressfield’s work here) and move on through them. Perhaps at heart we all want to be great, or at least to contribute something to the greater good of humanity reading Die Empty might make you start taking this destiny more seriously, and convince you to start planning the final years you have left. An uplifting and motivating read, this is a book I am certain to return to again. Check it out.