There’s a familiar argument playing out everywhere right now—on podcasts, on social media, at dinner tables with well-meaning parents and anxious twenty-somethings.
Should you follow your passion?
Or should you do what makes money?
The “follow your passion” crowd says life is short. If you love something deeply enough, you’ll work harder, do better work, and eventually the money will find you. Artists, musicians, writers…this is the romantic arc we’re sold. Passion first, payoff later.
The opposing camp, often embodied by people like author and podcaster Scott Galloway, says passion is overrated, especially early on. Their advice is blunt: do what pays. Build skills the market rewards. Make money while you’re young, invest it, let compounding do its quiet magic. Passion can wait.
Both sides argue like this is a zero-sum game. As if you must choose one path and reject the other entirely.
I think that framing is wrong.
Not because either side is completely wrong, but because both are incomplete.
This isn’t a battle between passion or production. It’s a false dichotomy. The real answer lives in the uncomfortable middle: passion and production.
Here’s how I’ve come to see it.
When you’re young, you should prioritize production. That means doing something you’re good at. Something the world will pay you for. Something where effort turns into measurable returns.
Notice I didn’t say “do what you love.”
I thought medicine would be my passion. It wasn’t—at least not forever. But I was good at it. I was really good at it. I worked hard, built competence, and became successful. And yes, I made a lot of money.
That matters more than people like to admit.
Money buys time. Money buys margin. Money buys options. And early in your career, options are everything.
Where the “follow the money” crowd gets it wrong is when they treat passion as irrelevant, or worse, indulgent. As something to suppress indefinitely in the name of optimization.
You shouldn’t abandon passion. You should just relocate it.
If your work doesn’t excite you, that doesn’t mean your life can’t. Passion doesn’t have to live inside your job description. In fact, early on, it probably shouldn’t.
While I was practicing medicine—especially after the excitement faded and burnout crept in—I started writing. Nights. Weekends. Quiet hours no one was paying me for. I didn’t need it to make money. It just needed to matter to me.
That writing turned into blogging. Then podcasting. Then public speaking.
None of it was part of my “real job.” And that was the point. It was safe. Unpressured. Free to grow without needing to perform.
Here’s where things get interesting.
If you pursue production and passion in parallel and earn well and live carefully, you eventually reach a powerful place: financial independence. At that point, the rules change.
You can walk away from work you don’t love.
You can choose projects that pay less, or not at all.
You can let passion take the lead without fear.
That’s one path.
But there’s another, quieter one that doesn’t get talked about enough.
Sometimes, if you nurture a passion long enough on the side, it starts to seep into your work.
That’s what happened to me.
I was still a doctor, but I was writing constantly. Eventually, my medical practice asked me to write a blog for them. They paid me. Then another medical website asked for a monthly post. More pay. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, my job began to absorb my passion.
I hadn’t forced it. I hadn’t quit everything to chase a dream. I had let the two worlds run side by side until they naturally overlapped.
This is how many real careers evolve. Not through bold leaps, but through gradual integration.
As you move further along professionally, your interests sharpen. You discover what energizes you, what drains you, what you want more of. If you’ve built leverage—skills, savings, credibility—you can begin to tilt your work toward those things.
Most people don’t start their careers with passion. Some do, and they’re lucky. But it’s not a prerequisite. Careers can begin with production and grow into meaning. They can mature. They can soften. They can surprise you.
And if they don’t…that’s okay too. Financial independence gives you an exit ramp.
So no, it’s not passion or production.
It’s both.
Follow the money early: not blindly, but strategically.
Build something the world values.
Become excellent at it.
At the same time, protect a small corner of your life where passion can breathe. Write. Build. Create. Learn. Do it badly at first. Do it privately. Do it without expectations.
Over time, those two paths may converge. Or they may simply coexist. Either way, you win.
The biggest mistake isn’t choosing the wrong side. It’s believing you have to choose at all.
Careers aren’t built in absolutes. They’re built in shades of gray through patience, optionality, and the courage to hold two ideas at once.
Follow your passion.
Follow the money.
Mix them carefully, and you don’t just get a career—you get a life that can sustain it.
Did you catch this week’s episode of Earn & Invest (Click to listen)?





I love how you emphasise on the gradual merging of your two paths. I imagine when people make extreme takes, a lot of their ideas (whether consciously or not) are mutated by audience capture incentives (how do I get attention? vs how do I tell the truth?)
And because we are all guzzling on the firehose of the internet, our ideas and perspectives offline are clothed by these creators, whether we choose to or not
I found some passion in a career that made decent money. But it isn't my only source of joy either. I like the idea of passion in parallel with production.