The Quiet Power of Selective Influence - An Insight from ''Steal Like an Artist''

By @hiveness2/10/2026hive-180164

Hello Hivers!

This is my very first post in this community and here to share my deep insight from a book i am currently reading titled ''Steal Like an Artist by Austin Kleon''.

In Steal Like an Artist, Austin Kleon slips in a line that feels simple, almost harmless: don’t collect things indiscriminately. Collect selectively. Collect what you truly love. At first glance, it sounds like advice about taste. But the longer you sit with it, the clearer it becomes that this is not really about taste at all. It is about identity. Because whether we admit it or not, we are always collecting. We collect ideas, opinions, beliefs, habits, and narratives. We collect from what we read, what we watch, who we listen to, who we admire, and even who we tolerate. Every input leaves a trace. Every influence edits us slightly.

Most people collect without intention. They consume whatever is loudest, closest, or trending. They scroll endlessly, absorb casually, and move on quickly. Then, at some point, they pause and wonder why their thinking feels crowded, confused, or unoriginal. The truth is uncomfortable but simple: you don’t rise above your influences. You reflect them.

Kleon goes further and says something even more revealing: you’re only going to be as good as the stuff you surround yourself with. That sentence quietly dismantles the myth of raw talent. Talent does not grow in isolation. It grows in environments. What you allow around you, mentally and physically, is shaping your output long before you sit down to create anything.

When you look closely at people we often describe as “naturally gifted,” a pattern begins to appear. Steve Jobs, for example, was not just a tech visionary. He surrounded himself with calligraphy, design philosophy, simplicity, and craftsmanship. That is why Apple products didn’t just work, they felt intentional. Jobs once took a calligraphy class with no practical goal in mind. Years later, that seemingly random influence shaped the typography of the Macintosh, something no other computer company cared about at the time. It wasn’t luck. It was selective curiosity. He collected beauty where others collected utility.

The same principle applies beyond technology. Writers like Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie did not develop their voice by accident. She read deeply, across cultures, histories, and perspectives. She didn’t just consume stories; she studied how stories were told. What made her work powerful wasn’t volume. It was discernment. She chose what deserved her attention, and that choice sharpened her voice.

We live in an age where access is often mistaken for growth. Unlimited books. Unlimited podcasts. Unlimited videos. Unlimited opinions. But more input does not automatically lead to better output. In fact, too much unfiltered input often leads to paralysis. You start copying without understanding. You borrow styles without absorbing principles. You repeat ideas that do not align with who you are or where you are going. That is why Kleon’s warning matters so much. When you collect everything, you stand for nothing. The mind, like a room, can only hold so much before it becomes cluttered. And clutter does not inspire clarity. It suffocates it.

To collect selectively is an act of self-respect. It is a quiet way of saying, “I value my inner world.” It is choosing what deserves access to your attention. This idea extends far beyond art or creativity. It applies to life itself. Consider athletes like Kobe Bryant. He didn’t just train his body. He studied the greats obsessively - Michael Jordan, Hakeem Olajuwon, their footwork, their mindset, their discipline. But he didn’t copy them blindly. He extracted principles and fused them into his own identity. That is the difference between imitation and influence. Imitation ends where effort stops. Influence evolves with you.

Kleon reframes the entire creative process with a simple idea: your job is to collect good ideas. Not to rush to originality. Not to force genius. Not to be first. Just to collect good ideas. Because the more good ideas you collect, the more you can choose from to be influenced by. This is where many people go wrong. They want to create before they have curated. They want to speak before they have listened. They want to lead before they have learned. Mastery often begins in silence. Reading deeply. Observing patterns. Studying decisions. Noticing why something works and why something doesn’t. Warren Buffett once said that his job is to read and think, not to react or chase noise. He reads selectively. He filters aggressively. And that discipline compounds over decades.

What you surround yourself with does not just shape how you think. It shapes what you think is possible. If all you consume are shortcuts, patience will feel unnecessary. If all you admire is speed, process will feel frustrating. If all you follow is hype, depth will feel boring. But when you surround yourself with people and ideas that value craft, integrity, and long-term thinking, your standards rise quietly. You stop rushing. You stop copying. You start asking better questions. And better questions lead to better work.

Who are you learning from intentionally? What ideas are you allowing to live rent-free in your mind? What standards are you absorbing without questioning? Because one day, your work will speak for you. And when it does, it will reveal what you loved, what you studied, and what you allowed to shape you. You don’t become great by collecting more. You become great by collecting better.

In a world obsessed with speed, selective influence is a quiet form of power.

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