Measuring accomplishment is overrated. If you want a real sense of someone's journey, you need to pay attention to the delta.

In major U.S. cities—or on LinkedIn—you see it everywhere: this company raised X million, that 20-something founder disrupted an industry, so-and-so made Forbes 30-under-30.

Impressive, maybe. But I think we’re looking at the wrong unit of measurement.

It’s like staring at raw numbers and worshipping their size. Did you hit a billion? Wow. But if you started at 900 million, a 10% gain isn’t all that breathtaking.

When I see hustle culture’s heroes on their pedestals, I wonder: where did they begin? How far did they actually travel? What’s the delta?

This isn’t a popular thought, especially among the upper-middle and upper classes. But many high-profile “wins” are less impressive when you factor in the invisible advantages behind them. Privilege sets the angle early. If you had tutors, private schools, financial safety nets, parents who knew the system—you started your journey already pointed down the runway.

Think about a one-degree shift in a line. Over a few centimeters, it looks like nothing. But over a kilometer, it’s huge. The earlier you start with advantages, the farther that angle will carry you.

So yes—if you go to Stanford, find your cofounders, get the Google internship, and sell a company by 25, that’s still impressive. It took hard work. But hard work is ubiquitous. What makes the difference isn’t effort, it’s where you began.

Meanwhile, someone without that safety net—no tutors, no family money, no roadmap—has farther to travel. Maybe they don’t build a billion-dollar startup. Maybe they “just” reach a steady manager role, but only after paying for their own college, supporting themselves, and surviving things far harder than a bad grade. The delta of their journey is massive.

That’s who I resonate with. Not people who had every door open, but people who fought through darkness to create even a little light. I don’t wish that struggle on anyone. But I respect the distance they covered.

Can we measure it neatly? No. I don’t have a formula, and I’m not pretending to.

But I can at least push back against the idol worship. Instead of drooling over raw numbers or titles, ask: where did they come from? What did they overcome? What was their delta?

If we shift our values to celebrate distance traveled instead of destination reached, we take a small step toward a more equitable society.