People think they have to be ambitious. But at a certain age, all

When Graydon Carter, the sharp-minded editor and cultural observer, said, “People think they have to be ambitious. But at a certain age, all you want is to be around nice, decent people,” he spoke not only from experience but from revelation. These words, though simple, carry the distilled wisdom of one who has journeyed through the corridors of power, success, and acclaim, only to find that the true treasures of life lie not in ambition, but in kindness. It is the voice of a man who has seen both the glitter and the shadow of the world — who has climbed the mountain of achievement and discovered, at its summit, the quiet longing for peace.

In youth, the fire of ambition burns bright. The young are taught to chase greatness, to compete, to conquer. The world praises the tireless striver, the one who climbs higher, faster, farther. And indeed, there is virtue in the pursuit of purpose — in building, creating, and striving to fulfill one’s potential. But as the years pass, the soul begins to tire of endless contest. The noise of achievement grows hollow, and one begins to see what truly nourishes the heart. The applause fades, but goodness endures. Thus Carter’s wisdom reveals a great truth: that character is the final measure of fulfillment, and that the company of decent souls is a far richer prize than the crown of ambition.

Carter himself spent decades in the world of high society, journalism, and media — a realm filled with brilliance, but also with vanity. As the longtime editor of Vanity Fair, he was surrounded by the ambitious and the talented, the glamorous and the powerful. Yet, over time, he saw how ambition, left untempered by humility, corrodes the spirit. It drives people to ruthlessness, deceit, and loneliness. In his later years, Carter came to understand that success without kindness is emptiness dressed in gold, and that the truest comfort lies not in wealth or reputation, but in the simple grace of being surrounded by those who are “nice, decent people.”

This revelation echoes across the ages. Consider the life of Marcus Aurelius, the Roman emperor and philosopher, who ruled over one of the greatest empires in history. Though surrounded by power and splendor, he wrote in his private meditations of the need to remain humble, to seek virtue over glory, to value the company of the wise and good above all else. “Do not waste what remains of your life in speculation about others,” he wrote. “Be straightforward and kind.” His wisdom mirrors Carter’s: that the restless chase of ambition eventually gives way to the quiet desire for peace, decency, and companionship that uplifts rather than consumes.

And so it is with many who have lived long enough to see beyond the mirage of worldly success. The artist, once consumed by recognition, learns that joy lies not in fame but in connection — in the presence of those who see them not as a symbol, but as a soul. The politician who once sought power may, in old age, long only for honesty in conversation. The merchant who amassed riches learns that generosity brings more warmth than gold. The wise learn that ambition, though a great servant, is a poor master. What nourishes the heart at last are good people, quiet laughter, and a clean conscience.

Yet Carter’s quote is not a condemnation of ambition itself, but a call to balance. Ambition gives youth its strength; goodness gives age its peace. The tragedy lies in never learning when to lay ambition down — in clinging to the race long after its rewards have lost meaning. The truly wise person carries ambition only long enough to grow, to learn, to build — and then, like a craftsman laying aside his tools, turns toward the deeper work of the soul: cultivating decency, empathy, and gratitude.

So, O listener, remember this teaching: seek ambition not for its own sake, but as a means to become worthy of goodness. Let your achievements serve humanity, but let your heart remain kind. Choose companions who uplift your spirit, who remind you of truth and simplicity. For when the fever of striving fades, it is compassion and integrity that remain. The laughter of good friends will outlast the applause of the crowd; the warmth of sincerity will outshine the glow of success.

Thus, the teaching endures: ambition builds the world, but decency sustains it. In the end, it is not power or prestige that grants peace, but the circle of kind souls who walk beside us. As Graydon Carter reminds us, when all striving has settled and the heart grows still, what we crave most is not victory — but virtue, and the company of the good.