A Reader’s Take on The Subtle Art Art of Not Giving a F*ck
Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash
It’s been a while since I’ve written any kind of book review, and mostly it’s because I often feel that when I try, I don’t have the right framework to offer a solid commentary on what I liked, what I didn’t, and why I would—or wouldn’t—recommend a book. When I talk about books that mattered to me or touched me in some way, I usually end up describing them through how they made me feel. I don’t always know how to break things down in a more “literary” way—structure, motifs, themes, and all that—so I tend to refrain from reviewing books at all.
Today I’m taking the opposite approach—not because I feel strongly compelled to review this book, but because I talked about it with my wife recently, and the conversation is still fresh in my mind. Maybe my thoughts will be useful to someone out there.
For this month of November, I planned to read two books because I felt they might offer insights that would be relevant to what’s happening in my work life right now. One of them was The Art of War , which I read quickly and may write about someday. I took some interesting notes and applied a few concepts to work. The other was The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck by Mark Manson—a book that has been on my TBR list for a long time, and one that you simply cannot avoid if you search for anything related to work–life balance, personal growth, or emotional clarity. The book is everywhere.
At face value, it’s another self-help book about figuring out what matters, what doesn’t, and how to adjust your mindset to reduce unnecessary stress. Some people say the “salty” language sets it apart, and the title certainly gives you a taste of what to expect. But honestly, the use of profanity isn’t unique, and the book itself is not particularly groundbreaking. Like most books in this genre, it’s filled with what ultimately amounts to common sense.
And that’s not necessarily a criticism.
Sometimes we need common sense spelled out for us—especially when we’re overwhelmed, stressed, or so emotionally charged that we can’t think clearly. A reminder is sometimes exactly what we need: to slow down, breathe, reflect on what we can control, and let go of the things we can’t. This book does provide that. If you enjoy the author’s tone, humor, and casual style, you may get even more out of it.
I highlighted fourteen passages in total, and if you’re curious, I can share them.
But the reason I wanted to write about this book at all is because of one pet peeve: when an author’s message and their own examples feel out of sync.
Manson writes at length about people who wasted years treating others poorly, abusing substances, ignoring advice, and only changing their ways after they hit some kind of invisible wall. Yet when he describes his own life, the pattern is strikingly similar—decades of drifting, impulsiveness, avoidance, and questionable choices. Nothing dramatic triggered his change. He simply got bored, tired, or “over it,” as he puts it.
And that’s fine—but the way it’s presented sometimes comes across as if other people flailed through life while he arrived at clarity through wisdom, rather than the same slow burn that nearly everyone experiences. The tone can feel a little preachy, even though his story actually fits the same pattern he criticizes.
If he had framed it with more humility—acknowledging that most of us change only when we’re ready, and usually the hard way—I think the message would have landed more authentically.
All that said, the book is essentially a modern, casual, profanity-laced introduction to Stoicism. The core ideas are exactly what the Stoics taught:
Don’t waste energy on things outside your control.
Focus on your own actions, not other people’s opinions.
Accept that life is short and unpredictable, and let that guide how you spend your time.
If you enjoyed this book, I strongly recommend The Obstacle Is the Way by Ryan Holiday—more mature, clearer, and something I think most readers would get a lot out of. And if you want to go straight to the source, read Marcus Aurelius. In my opinion, that’s the book you read if you want to understand the philosophy that Manson is repackaging.
So I’m not here to bash the book. The underlying message is solid, and it absolutely has value. But personally, I gave it 2.5 out of 5 stars—mainly because of the inconsistency between the lessons he teaches and the way he presents his own story.
If you’ve read it, I’d love to know what you thought.