You’re tired of having to be somebody.
You’re tired of having to align your tweets, your LinkedIn posts, your career trajectory, and your weekend vibes into one cohesive, highly searchable ‘personal brand.’ It’s exhausting. And historically, it’s a terrible way to actually think.
Reputation is a liability for thought. Consistency is a prison for creativity.
Look at Benjamin Franklin. You probably picture a bald, bespectacled grandfather dispensing homespun wisdom like ‘early to bed, early to rise’ while flying a kite. That’s the sanitized, textbook myth. The real Franklin was the 18th-century equivalent of an elite anon account operator.
In 1733, Franklin wanted to break into the crowded Philadelphia almanac market. He didn’t use his real name—a respected, established local printer—to launch a boring new publication. He invented ‘Poor Richard,’ a bumbling, chatty astrologer. To get attention, Richard publicly predicted that his biggest competitor, Titan Leeds, would soon die. When Leeds didn’t die and angrily protested, Franklin doubled down. He continued publishing under Leeds’s name, claiming the real Leeds had actually died and an imposter was desperately trying to ruin his legacy. That wasn’t the behavior of a ‘Founding Father.’ It was pure troll behavior.
Before you can safely manipulate reality, you have to ditch your own name.
We are taught that hiding behind a mask is dishonest. Franklin proved the opposite. Hiding behind a mask exposed more of his actual mind than his real name ever could. As ‘Benjamin Franklin,’ he had to maintain civic respectability. As ‘Alice Addertongue,’ he could write scathing, gossipy critiques of his opponents. As ‘Poor Richard,’ he could peddle street-level wisdom and mock the elite. He even used his alts to engage with the Hellfire Club, dabbling in drunkenness and vice without jeopardizing his public standing.
The modern internet has brainwashed you into obsessively binding your real identity to your output. You are forced to be a professional on LinkedIn, a thought leader on X, and an aesthete on Instagram. If you crack a joke on the wrong account, it might cost you your job. You are suffocating under the weight of your own name.
The ultimate freedom is being ‘no one’ while becoming incredibly influential.
Franklin didn’t just invent the lightning rod and bifocals. He invented strategic pseudonymity. He understood that when you separate the author from the public persona, you can criticize, compete, and explore dangerous ideas without losing social standing. Stop trying to cram your actual self into a sanitized, always-consistent brand. Start running alts. Take risks, speak the truth, and create without the suffocating weight of your real name.
If everything you say must be attributed to your real name, you will never say anything that actually matters.
FAQ
Q: Isn't using a pseudonym just cowardly?
A: Being a coward in public is the price you pay for saying what you actually think under your real name. Franklin used pseudonyms to destroy competitors and explore radical ideas without torching his core business. It’s high-agency, not cowardice.
Q: What's the practical implication for my career today?
A: You don't have to stake your entire livelihood on every tweet or post. Separate your experimental writing, controversial takes, or side projects from your professional identity. Let the work stand on its own merits.
Q: What if I need a personal brand to get clients?
A: Your personal brand is your storefront; your alts are your laboratory. Franklin made his money as a respectable citizen, but his pseudonyms shaped the culture. You need the brand to earn, but you need the alts to think freely.