“My tardiness in answering your letter was not due to press of business. Do not listen to that sort of excuse; I am at liberty, and so is anyone else who wishes to be at liberty. No man is at the mercy of affairs. He gets entangled in them of his own accord, and then flatters himself that being busy is a proof of happiness.”
— Seneca
“I was always ashamed to take. So I gave. It was not a virtue. It was a disguise.”
— Anaïs Nin
For me, 2025 will be a year of shipping new things. There’s lots in the hopper.
Today, I’m pleased to announce my first book in more than seven years.
It’s been in the works for a long time and is currently 500+ pages. This time around, I’ll be doing things very differently.
The book, tentatively titled THE NO BOOK, is a blueprint for how to get everything you want by saying no to everything you don’t. Don’t let the title mislead you; it’s probably the most life-affirming book I’ve ever written.
It details the exact strategies, philosophies, word-for-word scripts, tech, and more that I and others use to create focus, calm, and meaning in a world of overwhelming noise.
THE NO BOOK contains all of the best tricks and tools that I’ve collected over the last 15 years, in addition to those of world-class performers. Lots of my friends make cameos, and I’m sharing details that I’ve kept closely guarded until now. If you’ve wanted to know how my life and business work with only three full-time employees, this will show you.
What else is different about this book?
– Though I drafted the bones years ago, I brought in a close friend as a co-writer and co-experimenter. This is my first time ever collaborating on a book, and it’s been an amazing and hilarious adventure. I’m thrilled with the results, and I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
– Unlike my last five books, we’re going to first release this one serially, one chapter or a handful of chapters at a time.
– We will also create a community for early readers, who will be able to read and experiment together, support one another, and provide us with feedback on the book. We want people to change their lives with this book, and for that, reading isn’t enough. It must be applied, and we feel that the community, combined with serial release, will help produce real action with real results.
– The plan may change. In keeping with the theme of the book, if the community or serial release turn into more headache than fun, or more emergency brake than accelerator, we’ll renegotiate and try something else.
– To read THE NO BOOK first and get other exclusives, you just need to subscribe to my free 5-Bullet Friday newsletter. That’s where the magic will happen. It’s easy to unsubscribe anytime.
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Now, I don’t want to give too many spoilers, and the exact timeline will be announced soon, but I won’t leave you without a sample.
Two chapters are coming up tout de suite.
But first, what of that collaborator?
Well, he made an appearance in The 4-Hour Body when I force-fed him into gaining muscle, but he’s better known as the ten-time New York Times best-selling author of The Game, The Dirt, Emergency, and others. He’s written liner notes for Nirvana and received hate mail from Phil Collins. He did a decade-long tour of duty at The New York Times, wrote cover stories for Rolling Stone, and almost got killed by an ax-wielding polyamorous lunatic in The Truth. He and I even have the same haircut.
Most relevant here, he busted my balls for not finishing this book sooner, and that’s how we ended up here.
So why don’t I let him tell the story in his words?
INTRODUCTION
By Neil Strauss
The goal of life is to make good decisions.
And decisions are the simplest thing in the world. They just consist of a single choice between two words: yes or no.
Through this binary choice, much like the way a computer builds digital worlds out of 0s and 1s, we create our destiny.
These two options, however, are not created equal. There is just a tiny sliver of the world that we have the time to experience. So, we are called to filter through the nearly infinite spectrum of all that is available to us… and say no to almost everything. The more we can say no to the things that don’t serve us, the more we are living our purpose.
And I am failing at my life purpose.
I say yes to fucking everything.
This is why I decided to help write this book. Not just to help you but to help me reclaim my life.
When I was trying to decide what to share in this introduction, I called Tim for his thoughts.
“Can you think of a recent example where you said yes to something you shouldn’t have?” he asked.
My ex-wife was sitting next to me and it took her 1.5 seconds to come up with an example: “Janet’s costume party tonight.”
We all probably have a Janet in our lives. She is so pushy and persistent, in the kindest and most enthusiastic way, that I have trouble saying no to her. To her, a yes is a legally binding agreement. A maybe is a yes. And a no is the beginning of a guilt trip that ends when you fold and say maybe—which she then takes to mean yes, making it a legally binding agreement.
“So just cancel,” Tim wisely suggested.
“I can’t,” I replied unwisely.
“See?” Ingrid gloated. “I rest my case.”
Her case was indeed rested. On my guilty conscience.
I grew up in a home where saying no wasn’t an option. A no would get you a stern lecture, a long grounding, or worst of all, a withdrawal of love. So as an adult, I became existentially terrified that every no would come with some sort of blowback, such as losing a friendship, an opportunity, or someone’s good will. And now I give my time—and my life—away, sometimes to people who have been publicly shitty to me. They call this trauma bonding. It’s my specialty.
Not like Tim.
Tim is the master of no. As I write this in mid-October 2023, his text messages have an auto-response that reads:
I’m traveling overseas until Nov 7. If your text is urgent, please reach out to someone on my team. Otherwise, please resend your text after Nov 7 if it still applies. Since catching up would be impossible, I’ll be deleting all messages upon my return and starting from scratch. Thank you.
Deleting three weeks worth of messages! That is boss-level no.
It’s basically saying: The message you sent me is your priority, not automatically mine.
It’s a screaming yes to life.
It is truly an act of courage to not worry about how every single person who receives that text is going to react to being deleted. And this is just a small, everyday example of Tim’s time mastery. Here’s how incredible Tim is at saying no at a world-record level:
Five years ago, he called to tell me he was writing a book on how to say no. He wanted me to contribute an essay to it.
I didn’t have time to help out. So of course I shut it down with these four words: “Yes, I’ll do it!”
I didn’t want Tim to be mad at me or stop asking me to contribute to his books or abandon me as a friend and talk shit about me to Naval Ravikant.
Afterward, I spent a week writing a chapter for his project, and grumbling about how I should be spending the time working on my own book. After all, people pleasers like me live in constant resentment. We blame other people’s requests for our bad decisions.
I finished the essay and sent it to Tim, as did many others. Tim sent some follow-up questions, just to take up more of our time and make sure we regretted our decision, then he did something incredible:
He said no… to the whole book!
He has so thoroughly mastered the art that he actually said no to the book on no. And then went on to return the largest book advance he’d ever been given.
Wow, that was an impressive act of self-preservation. While it may take you five days to read a book, it can take him three years to write and research it. That’s three years of his life he gained back with a single no.
There was just one problem: I needed the book. As did so many others. It’s a war zone out here. Our devices and apps, even some of our home appliances, are constantly studying us, determining how to focus more of our attention on their business models. Under the guise of helping us, they drown us in inboxes, notifications, and alerts, synced to phones, tablets, watches, even our cars. And if you don’t respond to the Janets of the world within fifteen minutes, you get the inevitable “Are you okay?” or “Are you upset at me?” message. Or even worse, the insidious “???”
Whether the challenge is the phone, other people, or our own compulsions, most of us need help saying no to what doesn’t matter and drains our life energy. So, I reached out and told Tim that if he didn’t want to finish the book, I would.
On the condition that he could cancel the whole endeavor anytime he liked with one no, he eventually sent me a 72,000-word Scrivener file of his notes, thoughts, writings, and collected information. I then set about organizing it into a book that would help myself and others live a more meaningful, connected, purpose-driven life by following the path of no.
But simply dispensing rejections isn’t the goal. You need amazing things worth defending. The path of no is also the path of selective yesses. This book is a guide to finding the critical few among the trivial many.
It’s about finding the big yesses in our lives. Just a few. These may be people, partners, projects, places, and passions—yesses so incredibly fulfilling that they enable us to say no to everything else. In fact, you only have to get a few big yesses right to live a deeply successful and joyful life.
The book that follows was put together by the two of us from Tim’s notes and experiences; further discussions and research; lots of hilarious video calls; and contributions from other gurus of no, some of whom actually said no to us. We have included their rejections in the book as templates. Unless otherwise stated, every chapter and first-person anecdote that follows is from Tim’s perspective.
Hopefully by the end of this guide, we can all learn that there is a highway to happiness. And the borders that keep us on it, that prevent us from straying into the abyss of meaninglessness, are paved with the word no.
TORSCHLUSSPANIK
By Tim Ferriss
I first realized I had a problem when everything was going right for me.
The day was May 2, 2007, just after 5:30 p.m. in New York, when I received a phone call I’ll never forget. My editor at Random House wanted to inform me that my debut book, The 4-Hour Workweek, had hit The New York Times bestseller list.
As her words sunk in, I staggered backward and collapsed against the wall in shock, gratitude, and relief. Overnight, I was transformed from a guy begging people to answer his emails to someone on the other side. All kinds of requests and offers poured in. Speaking gigs, interviews, consulting, partnerships, brand deals—it was a tsunami.
Flattered, unprepared, and afraid this might be my only 15 minutes of fame, I said “yes” to nearly everything, especially anything six, nine, or twelve months off in the distance. My calendar seemed like pristine water, clear as crystal for a brief lull. Then I had to pay the piper.
Rarely in the same place for more than a week, I felt more like Willy Loman in Death of a Salesman than a jet-setting rock star. My assistants and I were getting hammered with hundreds, then thousands, of emails per day. 90% of the time, I had no idea how people got my private email addresses. We were drowning.
The irony was that my systems worked great. It was pure operator error.
In the deluge, I had slipped from a mindset of JOMO (Joy of Missing Out) and following my own priorities, to a mindset of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) and reactively grasping at shiny objects and shiny people. I was succumbing to what the Germans call Torschlusspanik: literally, “door-closing panic.”
The term comes from the time of walled medieval cities, when the gates would close at night—and any resident left outside would be forced to fend for themselves. Getting through those doors often meant survival.
In survival mode, I panicked. I stopped following my own rules. Once I made the first exception, the game was lost. It was death by a thousand paper cuts.
So, what the hell happened? Why didn’t I see it coming?
These habits are formed early and embed themselves deeply. I come from a family full of lovely and conflict-avoidant folks. This isn’t true for everyone in the extended clan, but it’s enough for my default to be people-pleasing. Or, more accurately, people-fearing—a distinction we’ll dive into later.
Before the publication of my book, with little inbound, the effects of people-pleasing were negligible. I came up with wild plans, went out hunting for opportunities, cold-emailed people to pitch ideas, and knocked things off my to-do list. After the success of the book, with 1000x more inbound, the effects of people-pleasing were catastrophic. The underlying fear and guilt came out in full force and wreaked havoc. I was being emailed and called by a Genghis Khan army of versions of myself (surprise, bitch!), and I didn’t have a playbook. Saying yes to other people’s priorities made mine vanish like sand through my fingers.
It took a while to unwind and figure out that I was doing it all wrong.
Twelve months later, I had stemmed a good portion of the blood loss. It was only possible because I had found a big YES that allowed me to focus and say no to at least 50% of the noise:
Startups.
I used the book’s popularity with technologists to begin investing in and advising startups, and I soon moved to San Francisco to be in the center of the action. The timing was good, and I had incredible luck (Shopify, Facebook, Twitter, Uber, Alibaba, and more).
One afternoon, I found myself in the office of a CEO and friend. His company would later become one of the fastest-growing startups in history. That day, he was calm as usual, despite the chaos and noise of Market Street a few floors below. Once we’d caught up on the latest developments, the conversation meandered into productivity systems, and I asked how he thought about managing email. He spun his laptop around on his desk to show me his Gmail account. Once my eyes adjusted, I stood there slack-jawed, fixated on one thing:
84,000+ unread email.
Smiling at my shock, he said, “Inbox zero is a fallacy.”
Completely unfazed, he went on to explain a few policies he had. He ignored 99% of what came in. For much of what remained, his answer was a short, “Not up my alley. Thanks.”
If 10 different but appealing people asked him to grab dinner, he would invite those 10 people to a group dinner and kill many birds with one stone.
If he wanted to preserve political capital but decrease contact with certain people, he’d do the “slow fade”: He might first reply to them in 5 days, then 10 days, and then 20 days. “They will stop asking,” he noted.
Clearly, there were levels to filtering, and then there were levels to filtering. I took a photograph of his 84,000 unread count as a reminder.
Right after that meeting, I created a digital swipe file called “polite declines” in Evernote, a product made by another startup I advised. Starting that week in 2009, if anyone said no in a way that struck me as elegant or clever, I saved it. If a rejection somehow made me feel good, I saved it. If someone had great policies on their contact form, I saved it. If I came across a trick, tool, or philosophical reset for saying no—whether over a meal, via email, or at the airport—I saved it.
This book contains the highlights from that swipe file.
It’s taken me an embarrassingly long time to implement the advice here, but I’ve found rules, systems, and tools that make life a lot easier. Of course, these strategies apply to dealing with other people, including strangers, loose ties, and family. But they also apply to managing ourselves, especially those glitches in our mental operating system that act against our best interests.
I’ve also found ways to idiot-proof things and bring the lifeboat closer, such that when you do slip into overcommitting (it’ll happen), it’s one step to recovery instead of ten.
This book was originally written like my other books (i.e., Tim tests everything, writes about what works, then publishes), until I called Neil to see how a rewrite was coming on a rough draft.
“Hey, Tim, I’m in Copenhagen,” he screamed over a cacophony of background noise. “I’m at this conference I agreed to speak at, but now I’m hosting the whole thing, and it’s been taking up all my time.”
“That’s not good. I hope they’re paying you well.”
“They’re not paying me anything.” He paused and sighed. “And you’re not going to believe this, but I told the guy running the conference he could stay at my house when he’s in LA next month.”
“You what?! Has this book been working for you at all?”
He stammered a response, and we both came to realize that for a die-hard people pleaser, information and templates aren’t enough. As my friend Derek Sivers puts it, “If more information were the answer, then we’d all be billionaires with perfect abs.”
So, we rebuilt the book from the ground up as a daily, step-by-step experience with readings, exercises, and a complete plan that is relentlessly action-focused.
The first test subject was Neil. As he went through these exercises and steps, he added his own experiences, notes, and struggles. Afterward, seeing the eventual transformation, it’s clear that if you do the work, this book really, really works. The book is designed to meet you where you are on your no journey and take you further than you think possible.
And unlike most self-help programs, there is no set of one-size-fits-all rules. Through these readings and exercises, you will pick up a toolkit that is uniquely your own, tailored to your specific goals, challenges, strengths, and weaknesses. Some chapters won’t be for you, but some will be especially for you.
The No Book is a Trojan Horse for becoming better at decision-making writ large. Decision-making is your life.
Everything from a job offer to a marriage proposal is a yes to one thing and a no to hundreds of thousands of other opportunities. It’s easy—the universal default—to get pulled into the quicksand of half-hearted yesses and promiscuous overcommitment, ending up stressed and reactive, wondering where your time has gone.
The No Book re-examines how we navigate our finite path. It will help you build a benevolent phalanx—a protective wall of troops—that guard your goals, your relationships, and more, making everything more easeful.
As you get deeper into this book, you’ll begin to realize that how you handle no mirrors how you handle almost everything in life. Dramatically changing your nos will dramatically change your life.
If Neil can fix his Copenhagen debacle and do a 180—which he did—the sky is the limit.
So let’s start building you some wings.
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P.S. Any thoughts or suggestions? Please let me know in the comments below! Comments here are far better than social media, as I’ll actually see them. And thanks for reading this far.
