Ten years back, I was working as a creative copywriter at a Moscow publishing house that had published and distributed Delivering Happiness a few years prior. That was my intro to Zappos and Tony Hsieh — a legend of his own making. Our team was hooked on his approach to business and life, and honestly, everyone there felt inspired by his philosophy.
For me, it was personal. The concept of building relationships with customers, coworkers — hell, everyone — stuck with me. It felt like, finally, someone had written a playbook for not just success but genuine human connection. The idea stayed with me as I moved from job to job, across countries, adapting to new environments. But you know what? Even now, I still get frustrated in workplaces that lack empathy.
Tony’s death caught me off guard. I’d lost track of his journey, as so many of us do with the people we admire from afar, and the news hit me hard. When Wonder Boy came out, I grabbed a copy. But for reasons I can’t explain, I only recently started reading it.
The book dives deep, starting with Tony’s childhood, growing up with strict Taiwanese parents who had uprooted their lives to build a future in the U.S. They expected their kids to be nothing short of the best, and you see how that influenced him, from his early success with LinkExchange to eventually building Zappos. It follows him through his audacious, borderline wild attempt to create a thriving community in downtown Las Vegas. It was his big bet on people — on the idea that passion, connection, and shared purpose could redefine a place.
But as the story draws closer to the end, it’s painful to read about the people around him. As his struggles became more apparent, he was surrounded by hangers-on who, as the book shows, seemed more interested in his money than his well-being. That part hit hard. It’s a rough reminder of what can happen when genuine care is lacking, and only the resources one can offer become the priority.
Wonder Boy doesn’t hold back or romanticize, which is rare for a biography these days. It’s not just a “great man” story or a tragic spiral — it’s raw, real, and balanced. Props to the authors for telling it as it was. Reading it, you see a person who, while extraordinary, was deeply human, grappling with the same doubts and flaws we all have.
It’s heartbreaking when we lose someone whose life touched so many. Maybe we don’t expect it from entrepreneurs like we do rockstars, but at the end of the day, it just reminds us — none of us are invincible. I can’t quite wrap my head around it, but I know this: the impact people like Tony make doesn’t just vanish. It sticks around, reshaping our work, our lives, and — if we let it — our empathy.
Leave a Reply