KEEPING IT REAL
THERE aren’t many things likely to distract you during a conversation with Malcolm Gladwell: the author is a veritable blizzard of curious facts, surprising anecdotes and flailing arms. But I find myself distracted nonetheless, because on the wall of his office in Hudson, New York, is a giant picture of Chairman Mao.
Dressed in his signature grey suit and gently smirking, the murderous Chinese dictator hovers menacingly over the 57-year-old’s right shoulder.
Malcolm finds the poster hilarious, explaining that he bought it at a garage sale 15 years ago and rediscovered it in a cupboard recently.
“I thought how fun it would be, while transacting business at my desk, to have Mao visible over my shoulder,” he explains. “The idea of having this truly despicable tyrant reminding me of the importance of being human while I work – I thought that was good.”
That’s Malcolm for you: quirky, offbeat and a master of surprise.
We meet via Zoom, me in a gloomy Manhattan hotel room, him in his sunlit office. Terrifyingly skinny in his runner’s hoodie, with his trademark curly mop trimmed down, Malcolm’s face looms alarmingly close to the screen each time he’s feeling emphatic.
He has the air of an overzealous children’s party entertainer but it’s all strangely infectious. Even if you don’t love his “smart thinking” schtick, which has spawned an entire industry of offshoots and imitators, it’s impossible to be bored in this man’s company.
HE HAS THE AIR OF AN OVERZEALOUS CHILDREN’S PARTY ENTERTAINER BUT IT’S STRANGELY INFECTIOUS
These are
