Jordan Peele, like so many other comedians, saw Saturday Night Live as the pinnacle of sketch comedy. By 2008, Peele had worked his way up the ranks through Boom Chicago, Second City, and Mad TV to hone his sketch and improv skills. Along the way, he earned a reputation for imitations. He could become anyone. 

Around this time, Senator Barack Obama was emerging as a leading candidate for the Presidency and SNL needed someone to play the part. Peele received a call from Seth Myers asking if he had an Obama impression. Peele worked on it for a week then flew out to New York to audition. This was his chance to reach the top after years of hard work.

Peele played it perfectly. SNL offered him the job. There was only one problem—he was still under contract at Mad TV. Peele figured he could negotiate his way out, but the producers at Mad TV wouldn’t budge. Despite his pleas, they refused to concede. He was required to finish out his contract. End of conversation. 

Peele was crushed. SNL was the dream he had worked so hard towards for his entire career. And just like that, with an offer in hand, it was ripped out from underneath him. What right did these network executives have to use his fate as a bargaining chip? Peele was forced to grapple with an uncertain path forward. 

In the weeks, months, and years that followed, Peele discovered a way to channel the anger and frustration from the experience. He realized that if he could become a producer, he would have more leverage and avoid trapping himself in a similar position in the future. 

Peele recognized that producers were the ones making the final decisions about art and comedy. But most of them were shit at it. They mindlessly followed what had worked in the past and were oblivious to what made good art or comedy. Peele was tired of everything having to pass through these gatekeepers to reach audiences. 

Seize creative control

In 2009, after a five-year run at Mad TV and 94 episodes, Peele’s contract finally expired. And he set out with full force to take creative control over his own comedy and content.

As Peele found his footing, he began to explore the idea of his own sketch show with Keegan-Michael Key, a fellow Mad TV alumnus. And the more they discussed the concept, the more they realized it was something they had to do. Key & Peele was born soon after. 

Over the course of thirteen weeks, Key and Peele created more than 250 sketches that showcased the breadth of their comedic skills. They would pare this down to 54 sketches for the first season. As their own executive producers, they could take bigger risks than they otherwise might have been able to. They were constantly assessing how far they could push because that’s what they believed audiences deserved.

The show would run for five seasons on Comedy Central. It is widely considered to be one of the best sketch series ever created. Key & Peele dialed into what they knew people were thinking but might not be saying, and brought it to life through comedy. The polished, bite-sized skits only increased their virality online. Skits like “Obama’s Anger Translator” and “Substitute Teacher” became staples in popular culture. But without Peele pursuing creative control, they would have never been made. 

When Peele was forced to let the SNL offer go, he could have thrown up his hands. He could have accepted that he was powerless against the weight of those who held creative control and made the executive decisions. But instead, he used this as motivation to seize creative control. To define his own work. To answer to himself.

Unveil the hidden risks

Despite what we might tell ourselves, there’s no real justification for taking a hands-off approach in our own lives. But we often do exactly this. We get comfortable operating as passengers in our own stories and console ourselves with empty anecdotes like ‘whatever happens, happens.’ The consequence is that we let mediocre leaders, peers, producers, and executives dictate our future. 

In our indifference, we allow inertia to dull the edges of our work and limit our trajectory.

Living—at least meaningfully—requires a hands-on approach. You are the only one who understands what brings you life, why that matters to you, and where you want to take your work. There are certainly things that exist beyond your control. But you damn well better pry back control of the things that are. 

You must move with conviction, direct your own life, and learn to circumvent the gatekeepers. When you subject yourself to the whims of a committee whose opinions you don’t respect, you end up compromising on too many critical aspects of your work.

There is an important difference between collaborators and gatekeepers. Gatekeepers are rent-seeking suits who justify their position through resource guarding. Collaborators are operators with skin in the game who want to help you wrestle back creative control. Collaborators pass the foxhole test.

The difference is in intention and risk tolerance. Gatekeepers aren’t looking to push things forward. They’re just trying to follow a playbook that prescribes success. Why take a risk on something new when you can make Batman for the 97th time? Never mind that it’s derivative or that in 50 years our grandkids are going to be convinced that we lacked any sort of original thought and we all had a superhero fetish to boot. 

It’s important to surround yourself with collaborators who push you and help bring your work to life. The work that’s true to you. The work that’s helping you to uncover what you believe about the world. Not a watered-down version. Collaborators will be there in the trenches helping you dig.

Create leverage

Similar to creative control, another way to think about this is by seizing the means of production. It gives you flexibility to set the tone. It creates an opportunity for you to go on the offensive, create momentum, and stop resistance in its tracks. 

By 210 B.C., Carthaginian general Hannibal had been wreaking havoc, fighting on the doorstep of Italy for sixteen years. The Roman general, Scipio Africanus grew tired of being baited into exhausting battles that they couldn’t win. Scipio then turned his attention to slowly capturing Hannibal’s means of production so he could better dictate the battles moving forward. 

Scipio’s first step was to take control of New Carthage in Spain—a regional capital where the Carthaginians stored vast amounts of wealth and supplies. Then he realized New Carthage depended on Carthage so he took the battle to modern-day Tunisia. This forced Hannibal and his army to return to their homeland and play defense for the first time in more than a decade. And finally, Scipio saw that Carthage depended on its fertile farmlands for material prosperity, so he struck the Bagradas Valley. This was a turning point in the war. Carthage sued for peace and they were all but eliminated as a threat to Rome. 

By controlling the means of production, Scipio was able to dictate his own terms. You always want to be able to set the tempo, rather than allowing yourself to be thrashed around, reacting to events happening around you. 

Maximize your upside

When you take creative control, you put yourself on the line. You assume the risk. But you also gain exposure to the upside. Both in terms of success and in what you’re learning.

You will learn far more creating your own art, training for your own race, or launching your own startup than you otherwise would optimizing the sign-up funnel at a behemoth tech company, mindlessly consuming sports, or performing sketches that have to be approved by a committee of risk-averse producers.

Far from being the thing that derailed Jordan Peele’s career, not being able to work things out at SNL allowed him to be more ambitious in his work. In five seasons at Key & Peele, he was able to hone his own writing and directing abilities which would prove invaluable later in his career. He was able to pursue more ideas, explore more worlds, and craft more characters than he would have been able to playing by someone else’s rules.

Peele leaned in, taking more creative control and risks when he could have retreated. In doing so, he created a far steeper trajectory in his own career. While it was impossible to know then how things might play out, he trusted himself and his intentions to move towards taking back creative control over his own ideas. And he acted upon that. This gave him more flexibility, room to maneuver, and eliminated dependencies that stood in the way of bringing his ideas to life. 

By taking creative control and calling our own shots, we put our ass on the line. But this demands its own level of respect. The credit belongs to the man in the arena.

When we shut the escape hatch and there’s no turning back, our commitment is what empowers us. It’s what emboldens us to face obstacles and gatekeepers head-on. In doing so, we create more opportunities to show up and take risks for what we believe in. And in those moments when we move unapologetically towards creating something that resonates with us, the universe has a tendency to answer the call.

Bet on yourself. Always.