Should we be learning from the losers?

We worship winners, flooding LinkedIn with humblebrags about smashing targets and 10x-ing their revenue. "I earnt $100,00 in my third month in business and.....buy my product..."

We throw money at their books, their courses, their keynotes. But here’s a thought: what if we’ve been looking in the wrong direction?

The real wisdom—the gritty, life-changing, soul-forging wisdom—is in the stories of the people who’ve fallen flat on their faces. Then got up. But we all love a good comeback story, but we rarely sit long enough with failure to really understand it. We want the phoenix, not the ashes.

The Stoics say we learn from mistakes, grow from discomfort. Welcome the punches as they will strengthen and toughen us. Win or learn. But its not very marketable. 

...and very, very uncomfortable. We don't like that any more.

The entrepreneur who made millions, the athlete who broke records, the CEO who “hustled” their way to the top. Most of these stories skip the ugly parts. The flops, the faceplants, the “what was I thinking?” moments.

Crying our eyes out over yet another rolling cluster5$%$ and wiping them before our kids ask what's going on. Trying to explain to friends "man, I REALLY wanted it to work....I just couldn't". My Own family struggle with me being honest about business failures.

Yet, if we pause to reflect, it’s precisely those moments that shape resilience. Those exact moments of "rock bottom" that get our shit together. That give us the choice to grow and evolve.

Vulnerability, especially in business, can feel like weakness. Yet, Epictetus nailed it:

"If you want to improve, be content to be thought foolish and stupid."

The courage to fail publicly and learn from it is a strength we rarely acknowledge. Winners inspire, but losers educate—deeply and honestly. Problem is they don't often publish their stories. Coming third is a bit sad. Coming second is way, way worse.

But we line up in an effort to emulate the super stars, whose millions we aspire to few will earn, drinking their cool-aid, lining their pockets as we listen to amazing success and business class travel and Bentley's in Abu Dhabi .... fuel the ego further, so more people go and try and soak up advice which does not work for the average punter.

I can feel the hate coming on already "Mark, you're just jealous because...".

Jealous, no, Resentful, not quite. It's just not the real world that exists in the glamour. How about talking about f$%^ ups and sharing the wisdom we learnt?

"When I coach, lecture and plan for my own future, front of mind is what I learnt in the last life retrospective; room's go silent when I talk about getting shit wrong. "

Australia’s tall poppy syndrome also complicates our relationship with failure.

We celebrate success, but heaven forbid someone tries and falls short. Yet, research shows entrepreneurs who’ve failed once are more likely to succeed next time. So, what’s stopping us from embracing this? Perhaps it’s time we give failure a rebrand—not as a dead end, but as a doorway.

 My own life Perspective

"My first 3 years of competition karate was spent finding new ways to lose. At times, business didn't feel much better...I was so good at my first 3 years of business there were times when there was less in my bank account than the minimum withdrawal."

Everyone thought I was smashing it. I kinda was, just not visibly.

It's so easy to use martial arts as a simple analogy for life and business. I competed as a veteran for 8 years. First 2 years I literally lost 80% of my fights. Beaten by people I under estimated, prepared poorly, didn't know the rules, got done on the mental game, simply could not find a way to be good enough in the moments of truth. Some fighters have beaten my multiple times and I have never gotten close.

One year on my birthday in Sydney I competed at the Australian Open. I had a good draw; the 3 fighters I fought would have beaten many but on that day, my skill set was perfect to foil the big, small and lanky. Strong, fast, focussed, nailing it, scoring at will. Really enjoying it.

5-2 up, 15 seconds to go in the final, stepped out accidentally ... disqualified...silver. Sitting in a hotel room icing my knee (jaw, shoulder...losing hurts even more). Never again.

In the dojo on the Tuesday the lecture I gave the students through my shame was "You have to know the rules. Do not lose concentration. Continue to raise your energy into the conflict because its easy to lose. Don't think you have it until you do."

My sensei said it was one of the most uncomfortable things he heard. But the most valuable for the small kids to hear. Soon after the parents started asking me if I would teach their kids 1:1.

If enough people get this far in the article and say "Mark, tell us about your business screw ups" in the comments, I'll write those. I have a few lined up, but do people really care? Is talking about shit I got wrong going to grow my business? Why not, more fun to write about.

Why Should we Listen to Losers?

Because losers have seen the edge. They’ve felt the fear, the doubt, the shame.

Then they got up and tried again.

Losing forces clarity. When everything falls apart, you see what matters.

Because vulnerability connects us. When someone shares their failures, they’re giving us permission to be honest about our own. My best conversations are with real humans who say things like "well, you were just really vulnerable with me....can I share something..."

Parenting Insight

Like many parents, my daughter is my biggest inspiration. Lets face it, we are biased. But we see their challenges, their moments, how they smile through just trusting us to try again. And again. And again.

She rows, she busts her guts, but she is about 15kg lighter than the other girls - some of whose power is insane. Genetics yes, but they still train their arses off. But my petite little 16 year old is a few inches shorter, 15 seconds off qualifying pace, often dejected at not making the team.

In life, there are only so many spots. There are more losers than winners.

Now when she trains (or I am training her - its off season...."Dad, I need to go faster...can we train" ... she still hasn't learnt...Daddy trains her hard) I remind her she needs to want it more, she needs to remember the severe disappointment of the loss, live in that pain of embarrassment and get up. Not avoid it, pretend it doesn't matter, but sit in that shame and decide if she needs to make that into pride.

Go again. She does. It's my best parenting (oh my in amongst a plethora of dad mistakes)

I'm told I am a hard arse dad, but my job, as a parent or coach, is to help people prepare for the challenges in life. One day she asked to do karate. I made her ask 3 times before I let her start. She had to want it.

Jess went on to get her black belt. Sometimes makes the rowing team. Other times doesn't. But she stays in the fight. She is unrelenting.

One day she said "Can I do a Spartan with you". She just assumed I would jump with joy at it.

I told her "No, you aren't fit enough, strong enough, tough enough yet. Its not easy."

"OK, can we train then"

My hard truths

2020 felt like I'd made it. Everything was coming together. Within 12 months I'd lost the business of 14 years and embarked on another 3 years of everything I touched turned to dust. So many pivots I was breaking ankles. Horrific amounts of cash burnt on new ventures. Months where staying in bed would have earned more money. Wondering

"Shit, is my best behind me"

I'm lucky; enough people around me to remind me I've done it before, do it again. Get up. Stop whinging. Start doing. I'm also lucky in that I've gotten better at seeing a loss as a step closer to a win. Craig Harper says "It's who we are when no one is watching" that defines us. It's not all pretty. But mostly I try to make myself proud. I'm a hard task master on me.

That's the place I coach from, because learning how to not lose as bad next time may well be as valuable as sharing the spoils of victory. The humility has not hurt. Being 51 both softens me and hardens me.

Get real sweetheart

True growth, the kind that lasts, comes from those willing to stumble, fall, and get back up—again and again. When we dare to learn from losers, we tap into the raw, unfiltered truth of what it means to grow.

Vulnerability isn’t a weakness; it’s the birthplace of strength. So, next time you fall short, don’t hide it—own it, share it, learn from it. Because every so-called loser holds a lesson the world desperately needs. Are you listening?