You’re Not Paid to Succeed. You’re Paid to Dare.
Heard something today that got me thinking: "Evel Knievel wasn't paid to jump. He was paid to dare."
So I mulled it over.
Thousands of people packed into stadiums. Not because they were guaranteed to see a successful jump. But because they might witness something extraordinary. Or catastrophic. The outcome wasn't the point. The attempt was everything.
The Misunderstanding About Success
Maybe we got it backwards, haven't we? We think clients pay us for guaranteed outcomes. Safe bets. Proven formulas. But that's not really what they're buying. They're buying our willingness to go first. To try something that might not work. To put our reputation on the line for an idea that could be brilliant or could fall flat.
The jump is just what happens after you decide to dare.
Data and focus groups have their place, but when the ask is to disrupt, cut through and connect, some of the greatest things we see are those where someone took a gamble (educated risk).
What Are You Really Selling?
In creative work, we often undersell what we actually provide. We focus on deliverables: campaigns, designs, strategies, content. But that's not the real value. The real value is this: we're willing to risk being wrong.
We'll pitch the unconventional idea. We'll suggest the approach that hasn't been tested. We'll put forward work that could make everyone look stupid if it fails. That's what they're paying for. The courage to attempt.
The Safety Trap
Here's where most of us get it wrong. We try to minimise risk instead of maximising courage. We research everything to death. We test until the life is squeezed out of ideas. We present three options when we know only one is right. We hedge our bets instead of backing our instincts.
But safe rarely pays. Safe rarely gets remembered. Safe rarely changes anything. Evel Knievel could have stuck to smaller ramps. Shorter distances. Higher success rates. But that's not what filled stadiums.
When Daring Goes Wrong
Let's be honest about something else: sometimes you crash. Sometimes the campaign doesn't work. Sometimes the bold creative gets killed. Sometimes the unconventional strategy fails spectacularly. But here's the thing about professional daring: the attempt itself builds something. Reputation. Trust. The knowledge that you're willing to push boundaries. Clients don't just hire people who always succeed. They hire people who are willing to fail in interesting ways.
The Economics of Courage
Think about the projects you've been hired for. Really think about them.
Were you chosen because you were the safest option? Or because you brought something others wouldn't dare try? When someone pays premium rates, they're not buying certainty. They're buying the possibility of extraordinary. They're investing in someone brave enough to attempt what others won't.
What This Changes
If you accept that you're paid to dare, not just to deliver, everything shifts:
- Your proposals become bolder
- Your recommendations become clearer
- Your pricing reflects courage, not just competence
- Your reputation builds on attempts, not just successes
You stop apologising for unconventional ideas. You start owning them.
The Practice of Daring
So how do you get paid to dare?
First, understand that daring isn't reckless. Evel Knievel calculated every jump. He understood physics, angles, speed. But he also understood that calculation only gets you to the edge of the ramp. The jump itself requires something else entirely. I often find myself saying in tough moments: "I don't know what will happen if we do this, but I know what will happen if we don't." That's the mindset shift. From focusing on unknown risks to recognising certain stagnation. Second, build your tolerance for uncertainty. Start with smaller dares. Pitch the slightly uncomfortable idea. Suggest the approach that feels risky but right. Third, reframe how you present yourself. Don't just showcase successful projects. Showcase bold attempts. Talk about what you were willing to try, not just what worked.
Or as Yoda put it: "Do or do not, there is no try." But I'd flip that for our purposes: there is no safe middle ground. You're either willing to dare or you're choosing to stay put.
The Real Question
The question isn't whether you'll succeed every time. The question is whether you're willing to attempt something worth failing at. Because that's what they're really paying for. Not the guarantee of success. But the courage to try. Evel Knievel knew this. The crowd wasn't there for transportation. They were there for transformation. For the possibility of witnessing something impossible become possible.
Or spectacularly impossible.
Either way, it was worth the price of admission.
Moving Forward
What would you attempt if you knew you were being paid to dare, not just to deliver?
What bold idea have you been sitting on because it might not work?
What's your equivalent of the motorcycle ramp?
Because somewhere out there, someone is looking for the person brave enough to try what others won't.
Maybe it's time to rev your engine.