4+Magazine+Issues+(Corcoran,+Ferriss,+Huffington,+Gary+Vee)

The New
Yorker once
described
Ferriss
as “this
generation’s
self-help guru.”
Wired called Ferriss
“The Superman of
Silicon Valley.” Since
Workweek, Ferriss
went on to write two
more bestsellers,
tackling fitness and
then cooking. He now
commands legions of
devotees, equal parts
inspired and intrigued
by the number of
impressive—albeit
peculiar—accolades
he’s amassed. The
skills he’s mastered
are as disparate
as tango dancing,
kickboxing, and curling.
But for Ferriss, the
achievements are never
the focus; they’re more
like decor, useful when
swag points are needed
in a hurry.
Speaking with Ferriss,
you get the impression
that he has a voracious
hunger for learning,
and an excessive thirst
for experimentation
and novelty. Couple
those traits with endless
reserves of energy, and
you have something
akin to a small, blonde,
human hurricane.
With square-jawed,
photogenic Scandinavian
features, Ferriss speaks
with an easy baritone
lilt. And despite his
unorthodox approach
to work, it would be a
mistake to think that
he’s laid back or lazy. On
the contrary, beneath
the veneer of boyish
recklessness and a devilmay-care
thirst for
adventure, he’s a man of
quite startling intensity.
Affable? Yes. But intense.
Tim Ferriss is also a
divisive figure. His
detractors question his
methods, or get hung
up on what they see as
a focus on obtaining
the maximum effect for
the minimum effort, or
championing shortcuts
for their own sake. But
to his followers, it’s more
about working smarter.
Taking apart traditional
constructs, analyzing
their core components
like a curious child with
an old clock, and figuring
out which parts make
it go. In a sense, he is
the ultimate pragmatist.
Deconstructing the time
and energy traditionally
required to perform a
task, he sifts through the
necessary components
and delivers a new model
that is sleeker, faster, and
more effective.