I have an observation habit: every time I enter a new industry or circle, I first look around and distinguish what type of person each individual belongs to.

Not by looking at titles—titles are the most unreliable classification. Rather, I look at behavioral patterns. How they make decisions, what their sources of profit are, what they truly care about.

After observing for a while, I’ve discovered that regardless of the industry, the people within can be roughly divided into five types.

Five Roles

Builder. Blazing trails, creating systems. Usually entrepreneurs, product owners, or those who are genuinely “building things.” Their timeline is long-term, because constructing a meaningful system cannot possibly be accomplished in three months. Their hands are dirty, because people who truly get things done don’t have clean hands.

Trader. Views opportunities as commodities, buying and selling short-term. Doesn’t care about long-term value, only volatility. When the market rises they make money, when it falls they also make money—as long as there’s volatility. What they need is not stability, but turbulence.

Investor. Uses capital investment to amplify industry progress, with long investment cycles, looking at trends rather than phases. Good investors are allies of builders—they provide resources that allow builders to go further.

Commentator. Originally functioned to provide information and promote public dialogue. But most have devolved into media people who only follow trends. Their profit model is traffic—for them, truth doesn’t matter; audience “panic” and “excitement” are the fuel.

Follower. Has no independent opinion, follows traders’ rhythm with short entries and exits, rises and falls with commentators’ emotions. Works for ten years, but essentially repeats the same day ten years over.

Which one are you?

Seeing Through Agendas

Understanding these five roles doesn’t mean you should “judge” who’s good or bad. Rather, you need to understand each role’s internal agenda, so you won’t be brainwashed.

When a commentator tells you “this industry is doomed”—they don’t necessarily believe it, but this headline generates traffic. Traffic is their income. Their agenda is attention.

When a trader tells you to “run fast” or “get in fast”—they’re not necessarily helping you. They might need your panic or frenzy to serve their positions. Their agenda is volatility.

When an investor tells you “I’m bullish on this track”—they might genuinely be bullish, but they might also need more people to believe this narrative to boost the valuation of assets they’ve already invested in. Their agenda is appreciation.

Not everyone is deceiving you. But everyone has their own interest structure. Only by seeing through this structure can you hear the real signal behind their words.

I discussed in “Pain Points Are Not the Whole of Transformation” that the most dangerous aspect of digital transformation isn’t falling behind technologically, but being led around by various “authoritative voices” while forgetting to ask yourself what you actually need. The same applies to role judgment in industries—don’t assume someone cares about your interests just because they speak confidently and authoritatively.

The Loneliness of Builders

So why do I suggest choosing to be a builder?

Because builders are the only role whose interests are tied to “creating real value.” Traders can profit from value destruction. Commentators can profit from exaggeration. Followers don’t profit. Only builders—their returns come from what they actually build.

But builders are lonely.

While you’re building, commentators are pointing fingers from the sidelines. Traders are speculating on your achievements. Followers decide whether to believe in you based on what commentators say. Investors are waiting and watching.

And you can only keep building. Because you know that until completion, no one will truly understand what you’re doing.

My own experience running a company has deeply confirmed this point. The most painful part of early-stage entrepreneurship isn’t insufficient funding or immature technology—it’s that no one understands what you’re doing. What you’re talking about is too new; the market isn’t ready to listen. Commentators think you’re too small to be worth reporting on, traders think you’re too early-stage to have material worth speculating on.

But you just have to keep building. Get your hands dirty. Build brick by brick. When you go in the wrong direction, adjust. When you mess up, start over.

This is the price builders pay, and also their privilege—what you build is yours. Not given by the market, not defined by commentators, not hyped up by traders.

The Trap of Consumerism

Speaking of role choice, there’s a larger framework that must be addressed.

Last century’s consumerism taught us a formula: what you own = who you are. What car you drive, what house you live in, what brands you wear—these determine your position in society.

The problem with this formula is: it turns everyone into consumers—that is, followers. You’re not creating value; you’re consuming value created by others, then using the quantity of consumption to define your identity.

I discussed in “AI Never Sleeps: The Economic Order Being Reorganized” that the economic order of the AI era is being reorganized. In this reorganization process, the most insecure position is “consumer”—because your value is completely dependent on others’ systems.

The truly secure position is builder. You don’t necessarily have to start a business—in any organization, those who are genuinely “building things” have stronger irreplaceability than those watching from the sidelines.

Another Life Philosophy

How you create now is how you’ll live in the future.

We can continue using last century’s logic, converting all achievements into dollar signs, using endless consumption to fill existential anxiety.

Or, we choose another philosophy. Pursuing a simple, restrained yet quality-filled life. Spending energy on “building” rather than “buying.” Temperament and taste have never needed to be stacked up with money.

Don’t let 22nd-century humans hate us. The premise is that human civilization can even reach the 22nd century.

Whether this premise holds depends on how many people are willing to transform from followers into builders—from consuming the world to creating the world.

Which one do you want to be?