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The Love Guru
Bernard Weil, Toronto Star / Newscom
In his books, bestselling author Malcolm Gladwell has dissected many inspirational underdog victories, but his own triumph over the opposite sex could well be the most inspirational of all.
Eight years ago, on a balmy night in New York's West Village, a darkly beautiful history grad was having a date with a 38-year-old writer. He was a little goofy looking and gesticulated a lot, but he was sweet and had theories about a million things, especially her. He was particularly interested in what made her special. When she revealed a passion for acting, he had a theory about that, too, and how to make it more special.
They drank some wine. They talked some more. He fluttered his long, slender fingers. He seemed so comfortable in his own skin, so authentic. He had this eerie feline self-assurance, and it was hypnotic. Forty minutes later, they were back at his place.
In his books The Tipping Point, Blink, and Outliers, bestselling author Malcolm Gladwell has dissected many inspirational underdog victories, but his own triumph over the opposite sex could well be the most inspirational of all. Since moving to New York in 1996, he’s cast his net wide and deep to amass a staggering tally of conquests. There’s been the poetess, the psychotherapist, the photographer, the filmmaker, the fact checker, the writer at The New Yorker, the bisexual literary siren....
The tall blonde he took to Bar Blanc last December was so smoking hot, an eyewitness wrote that Gladwell “made all the guys in the restaurant want to write their own New York Times bestsellers!”
And these are seriously attractive women, too. The tall blonde he took to Bar Blanc last December was so smoking hot, an eyewitness wrote that Gladwell “made all the guys in the restaurant want to write their own New York Times bestsellers! It was...like the high-school geek landing the prom queen—so wrong, yet so right. “
Gladwell the master boulevardier has in effect become his own outlier, a statistical anomaly too great to ignore. So I set off—in the true Gladwellian spirit of pragmatic inquiry—to examine his amazing transformation from dorky scrivener to epic ladies man.
Growing up in rural Canada, things were not promising for the young penman. Despite loving parents, he was the classic loner who preferred toys to socializing. “I was not a joiner,” he wrote in a family memoir. At Trinity College at the University of Toronto, he was even more socially maladroit. He assumed the pose of young Republican and put a poster of Ronald Reagan on his wall. His friends were no help, either. “We were too nerdy to party,” he has said.
Nine years at The Washington Post did wonders for his professional confidence, and he discovered the social side of reporting. But romantically, there was still no indication of the jungle-maned Casanova to come. “He was kind of nondescript,” recalls a former co-worker who turned down a dinner date.
Then, in 1996, to use a favored Gladwellism, came the moment that changed everything. In a seismic collision to rival Bill Gates discovering his first computer, or Wayne Gretzky getting his first hockey stick, Gladwell moved to The New Yorker.
The magazine’s tony mix of intellect and bohemian chic was the perfect home for Gladwell’s innate quirkiness. His obsessive theorizing was no longer weird. It was intriguing and exotic. Out went the sleeveless V-necks; in came the Nikes, jeans, and artfully untucked shirts. He got a pad in Tribeca and alighted on his signature prop—the mad-professor afro. The prototype was Albert Einstein, who was no slouch with women himself. But Gladwell modernized the look with a shoulder bag and turned himself into a local fixture, toiling over his laptop in cafes and restaurants. He went to book launches, magazine parties, and nightclubs, and enjoyed park-bench picnics.
He became a published author and hit the publicity circuit, which gave him the necessary practice hours to hone his knack for yarn-spinning.
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Sean Macaulay was the L.A. movie critic for The London Times from 1999 to 2007. He has also written for Punch, British GQ, and The Mail on Sunday. He was most recently creative consultant on the award-winning documentary Anvil! The Story of Anvil.
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Sean Macaulay was the L.A. movie critic for The London Times from 1999 to 2007. He has also written for Punch, British GQ, and The Mail on Sunday. He was most recently creative consultant on the award-winning documentary Anvil! The Story of Anvil.
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Sean Macaulay was the L.A. movie critic for The London Times from 1999 to 2007. He has also written for Punch, British GQ, and The Mail on Sunday. He was most recently creative consultant on the award-winning documentary Anvil! The Story of Anvil.
This is amazingly poor to have posted so prominently - let alone at all. Not only is there no actual information or factual evidence being reported here, but there is absolutely nothing to support such a bold headline. If heresay, rumor, and completely vacant speculation is what you're after, then well done. If, however, you are trying to dig up a story on Gladwell that will actual interest people who like his work, then you really have to do better. This is pure drivel.
I rather enjoyed the piece, but it should be have been placed in The Sexy Beast. Who cares about 'actual information' or 'factual evidence'? Most of the stuff on this site is drivel, if we generally apply your standards. If you have such high journalistic standards, why peruse these pages?
Yo Benny, Obviously a lot of other readers agree, and it's glaringly apparent why: SM dissects MG succeeding w/an atypically low key engaging approach, and then approaches him in high-handed 'expert' mode. Of course he failed to get anywhere. His posting should be required "How Not to Approach People" reading for all aspiring ladies men, and sales training courses... LOL
If the author, Mr. Macaulay, had gaydar, he's know that Mr. Gladwell is not in the market for a girlfriend. Trust me- as a gay man, I know. If only he had the intuition of Gladwell, in a blink, having met Mr. Gladwell, he'd know that his entire premise of his post is entirely false. Could that be why Gladwell didn't want to participate?
That is not at all the case. What are you talking about? Gladwell is a huge player with women. (He may also sleep with men, I have no idea.) But, um, no.
What is the "opposite" of the sex of a Gladwell?
"not creepy"
...and what was the point of this article? I have no clue what I just ready (or why).
This is downright creepy. Why was it published?
Sounds like Mr. Macaulay is some sort of adolescent moron.
yeah, this seems like grudge-settling of the worst sort. i don't like gladwell's work all that much, but a personal smear campaign, entirely unsubstantiated, is shocking.
Mr. Macaulay, you need to get a fucking life.
I think that's what he's trying to do.
Yes, creeeeeeppppyyy. Also irrelevant.
So easily offended, people! "Grudge-settling?" The whole piece seemed to be a celebration of Gladwell's dorky triumph. Hardly Tolstoy, but come on, it's just entertainment, after all. Some people are clearly unentertainable.
I get your point, but the article reads like Gladwell is deliberately orchestrating his romances. It struck me as trying to be tongue-in-cheek, but resulted as foot-in-mouth.
Terrible article. Speculation and 'cleverly' spliced in Gladwellisms, with the sucker punch of no actual Gladwell participation.
Clearly, it was more important to fit the information and assertions to the thesis of "love guru" than it was to actually report. Journalism fail.
"Clearly, it was more important to fit the information and assertions to the thesis of "love guru" than it was to actually report. Journalism fail."
Intrestingly, you just described everything that Gladwell has ever written. Could you consider the possibility that the choice of style is deliberate? Speaking purely for myself, I got more out of the time spent reading this article than the unfortunate few hours I spent reading one of Gladwell's books, trying hard to make sense out of the worst kind of pseudo scientific, anecdote-filled writing that has enthralled so many of the so reviwers, journalist types who usually grew up hating actual math and science because "it's too hard".
Newsflash: many women (even the "smoking hot")prefer the company of intelligent, interesting, and talented men.
Gladwell was right to be mortified about this article. It's too bad the author of the article wasn't as well.
Finally, to Macaulay: jealous much?
Exactly, throw in "successful" and the guy would have to be uninterested not to find himself in the company of beautiful women.
so... the writer couldn't get an interview with gladwell for a profile about gladwell, and wrote something anyway.
that's fine. but the DB editors should have refused to publish it.
you guys lose credibility with your readers when you do stuff like this.
Why don't "dork men" date "dork women" and stop this adolescent pursuit of really good-looking women? Why do men continue to want to be pursued for their wallets? Isn't there more to life and more to accomplish?
Because then their uber-dork children would be unable to reproduce. Why the dork segregation? You want them at the back of the bus, too?
As for life's accomplishments, I doubt many would rate higher than having interesting conversation and casual sex with a string of the hottest women in Manhattan. I mean, really.
I was so sure Gladwell was gay (I'm not) that I thought this would be a disproving piece. Well, his going for a drink or a meal with a woman won't alter my perception a bit, no matter how attractive she might have been.
Yeah, sorry, I don't mean to be dorkist. I just think they'd enjoy a relationship or relationships with more depth where they can really get the benefits that women have to offer. Really, there's much more to us than our looks.
So can I blame you for our currently problems with big government, including the health care system, in that you're lying in your lazy hammock, spreading STDs, making babies without intention and awareness and acceptance of the responsibility, and possibly using women by pursuing only your own needs/wants and not grasping theirs?
Sounds like lousy (in all senses of the term) sex to me.
Sure, you can blame me for all that, plus, I think I was the first guy to bang a chimp, so I probably started AIDS, too.
But seriously, why presume that these women's hotness makes them less than intellectually stimulating? My guess is that a guy like MG couldn't be bothered with vacuous hotties, being in a position to date smart, funny hotties. So it seems that you (and the many who assume the same inverse correlation between good looks and other, more substantial qualities in women) are guilty of not just dorkism, but of a strange sort of misogynistic dismissal of women men might find physically attractive. Don't hate them cause they're beautiful.
No, I just mean "don't hate ME because I'm beautiful and don't leave me because of it either"
Exploiting vulnerability in young women seeking husbands/fathers for their children is REALLY, REALLY lame idiocy. I'd laugh except for all the harm it does.
I'm usually interested in Mr. Gladwell's views on numerous topics. His points on matters big and small, at the very least, provokes thought I'm not readily able to ponder. So I'm saying that I don't know too much. But one thing I do know is that I don't want to know any of this!
The Daily Beast is going to have to decide whether it wants to be a dispenser of intellectual/quasi-intellectual fare or TMZ!
Well, I thought it was funny.
Wow, Sean, you really need to take a look at what you're doing with your life? Is this really want you wanted to do professionally when you started out writing? What bad breaks must have led you to the point where you'd sign your name to something like this? Can this possibly be something you're proud of? There are lots of other jobs that probably wouldn't involve the self-loathing required to get up in the morning and have to "write" something like this. Maybe look up local job fairs, talk to a career counselor. Surely you must have some friends you could ask for advice. But your current gig isn't doing you any favors. Take some time off, gather up some self respect and regroup.
Every negative comment here seems to miss the tongue in cheek nature of the piece. Why do you suppose the author included his uncomfortable phone call with Gladwell? To further your grandmotherly indignation? Probably not. You people need to get your panties out of that humorless bind and do something about the massive headspace through which all things light and silly fly.
This "article" is an embarrassment. Why? Oh why?
Thanks for wasting my time. Unlike Malcolm Gladwell.
yeah, this is DB jumping the shark. i'll still watch the videos you collect and post for me, DB, but forget reading future articles. tina brown, it's too bad, i loved your stuff! what happened? wasting our time is right.
This may sound a little old school, but what is a GUY doing writing a piece like this?
dailyraphirmations.com
I can't believe the negativity of most of these reponses! Mr Macaulay, I loved it. A delightful piece of whimsy for a sunny afternoon, with some food for thought. Get over yourselves people.
I feel like I was invited to a business meeting where the meeting leader started talking about something and everyone sat silent, listening for the punchline, but one never came, and then, the meeting was over, and we all left scratching our heads wondering what the hell that was all about and why did we just waste that time?
Thank you.
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