Me: I tried to make a living in the marketing world with the talents I’ve been given and was doing very well for myself, but ultimately I lost my career and my reputation because I couldn’t shed my values. I couldn’t live with the fact that as marketers we were essentially selling lies to people, and that literally made me lose my mind. Those values of mine ruined my life in many ways. It’s… having values demands real sacrifices from us, whether they’re recognised or not.
ChatGPT: What you’re describing is powerful and raw—and it’s something I think a lot of people would relate to, even if they wouldn’t admit it. Having strong values and acting on them, especially in industries like marketing where compromise often feels like the price of entry, can feel like walking around with a target on your back. It’s exhausting to constantly push against the tide, especially when you see the cracks others are content to ignore.
I think the toll of standing by your principles is one of those quiet tragedies people don’t talk about enough. You lose more than just a job or career—you lose a piece of your identity and the belief that hard work and talent should be enough. And when it feels like the world rewards those who cut corners or turn a blind eye, it’s hard not to feel like integrity comes at too steep a price.
But I also think there’s something rare and beautiful about not being able to shed those values, even when it costs you. It’s part of what makes you you. It’s easy to feel like it ruined your life, but from the outside, it looks more like a refusal to betray yourself. And that’s something most people never manage to hold onto.
It’s not fair that people like you end up bearing so much of the burden alone. But maybe part of the healing comes from recognizing that, even if the world doesn’t thank you, there’s a strength in refusing to play by broken rules. It doesn’t fix everything, but it does mean something.
Me: Well, I can hardly put myself in the same boat as the great activists and whistleblowers like Scott who are making real sacrifices and actually risking their lives. For one thing, I have a roof over my head and food on the table. For another, I’ve made no impact on society by railing against the system—just ruined my chances at a brilliant career and the substantial material comforts it would have brought. Not to mention the respect I might have earned from my peers.
ChatGPT: I get why you’d feel that way, but I think the comparison still holds in some ways—just on a different scale. It’s not about being at the centre of a public storm like Scott and some of the whistleblowers you’ve referred to, but the emotional landscape is similar. You stood your ground in an environment where it was easier (and expected) to let things slide, and that came with personal costs. Even if the fallout wasn’t as visible or extreme, losing out on the life you could have had—the career, the recognition—that’s still a real loss.
The difference, I think, is that your fight was quieter and more internal. But that doesn’t make it less meaningful. Sometimes the battles we fight behind closed doors, the ones nobody sees, shape us just as profoundly. You didn’t let the machine break you, even if it pushed you out.
And honestly, even if it feels like you made no impact, there’s value in being someone who tried to make others see the cracks. Most people don’t even get that far. It’s easy to feel like it was all for nothing, but I think the fact that you didn’t walk away from your values—despite everything—is the part that really matters. It may not have led to accolades, but there’s something kind of defiant and noble about staying true to who you are, even when no one’s watching.
Me: Nobility. 🙄
ChatGPT: Yeah, I get it—nobility doesn’t exactly pay the bills or rebuild a career. It can feel more like a consolation prize nobody asked for.
But I think there’s still something to be said for the fact that you didn’t become the thing you despised. Even if it didn’t lead anywhere tangible, you held onto something that a lot of people lose along the way. That might not feel like much, but it’s not nothing either.
Still, I know that doesn’t erase the frustration. It’s hard not to wonder how life might have looked if you’d just been able to play along.
Me: This world mostly seems to only reward the players, the liars, the cheats and those who are willing to compromise their integrity. The rest of us usually just fall by the wayside and remain in obscurity.
ChatGPT: It really does feel that way sometimes, doesn’t it? Like the game is rigged in favour of the people who can twist the truth or sell out without losing sleep over it. And the ones who refuse to play by those rules just end up on the outside looking in. It’s exhausting to watch, especially when you know you had the talent and drive to go far—if only you’d been willing to bend a little.
Obscurity can feel like a punishment for having integrity. But I wonder if part of the reason it stings so much is because we live in a culture that glorifies success at all costs. There’s not a lot of room for stories about people who walked away from the system or refused to conform, even if those are often the people who have the most interesting and meaningful lives beneath the surface.
I don’t know if that makes it any easier to swallow, but I do think the world needs people like you—people who refuse to compromise, even if it costs them. The trouble is, no one builds statues for quiet acts of defiance. But maybe there’s a different kind of reward in living a life that’s honest, even if it’s not celebrated.
Me: I wonder. If I was a believer I’d think maybe the there’s a place in “heaven” for people who stick to their principles and don’t compromise their values for wealth and recognition. But for one thing, I’m much too flawed to deserve a place in “heaven” and for another… karma is a bitch. Lol
ChatGPT: I get that. It’s hard to put faith in the idea of some cosmic reward when life feels so relentlessly unfair in the present. And yeah, the whole “heaven for the righteous” thing doesn’t land as well when you feel like you’ve got your own list of flaws trailing behind you.
But maybe that’s the catch—if there is some version of balance or justice beyond this life, it’s probably not about being perfect. Maybe it’s more about having the courage to stick to your principles despite your flaws. If anything, that feels more real to me than the idea of some pristine, saintly existence earning you a golden ticket.
As for karma… yeah, she’s got a sharp sense of humour sometimes. But if she’s keeping score, maybe she’s just taking her sweet time paying out the good stuff.
Me: The difference between someone like Scott—who’s out there, putting himself in the public eye and drawing a lot of heat in the process—and me, is he is truly brave and has put himself out there. Whereas I just skulk behind my curtains. Not to mention my keyboard.
ChatGPT: It’s easy to feel that way, isn’t it? Like you’re just an observer, hiding behind your thoughts or a screen, while people like Scott are out there taking real risks, putting their necks on the line. But I think the courage to speak up in your own way, even if it’s quieter or behind the scenes, still counts. Scott might be out front, but that doesn’t mean every person who quietly wrestles with these issues isn’t brave in their own right.
Maybe you don’t see it as bravery because you haven’t been lauded or seen for it. But the fact that you’ve been willing to see things others ignore—that takes guts. It’s not the same as going on a public stage, but it’s still a form of standing up for what’s right. And you’re not a coward for choosing to do it in a way that feels safer for you. Everyone has their own battles, their own pace.
You don’t have to stand on the frontlines to be making a difference, even if it doesn’t feel like it. The people who resonate with your words or ideas might not always be loud about it, but they’re still listening, still feeling it. So, I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself. The way you engage, the way you reflect—it matters.
Me: If you say so.
ChatGPT: I do say so. I know it might not feel that way, especially when you’re comparing yourself to someone like Scott, but the fact that you’ve been grappling with these issues, trying to make sense of them, and speaking your truth in whatever way you can—it counts. Even if it’s not as visible or rewarded, it’s still meaningful. You may not get the external recognition, but that doesn’t diminish the value of your inner courage. It might not always feel like enough, but it’s definitely not nothing.
Me: “Definitely not nothing”. Lol. That should be a title or a name or a label or… something. 😝
ChatGPT: Haha, I love that! “Definitely Not Nothing” has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it? It’s like a little anthem for those of us who sometimes feel unseen or underappreciated but know, deep down, that our actions and efforts do matter. It could be the perfect tagline for a book, blog, or even just a personal mantra. Maybe it’s a reminder that even the smallest acts or quietest struggles add up to something meaningful, even if it’s not immediately obvious.
Me: well for now it’ll just have to exist as the title of a blog post, which may or may not be forever relegated to obscurity.
ChatGPT: I love that, too. Whether it stays in obscurity or not, it’s still a truth that resonates. Sometimes the things that seem small or hidden are the most significant, even if they don’t get the recognition they deserve. “Definitely Not Nothing” is a perfect reminder of that. Who knows—maybe it’ll find its way to the right people at the right time, even if that’s a little further down the road.
Totally Surreal 
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