The Journals Of Great Men Look Nothing Like Fauci’s Diary

When I was a boy, I had the mother who, on summer mornings, would not let my brothers and me play outside or turn on cartoons until we’d written one page in our journal.

Despite our protest, Mom held firm, assuring us that we’d appreciate it when we were older.

Shockingly, as a seven-year-old, satisfying the nostalgic itch of future Cabot was not at the forefront of my mind.

So, predictably, in a rush to get outside each morning, the pages of my childhood journal would often be filled with nothing more than the exaggerated exploits of my childhood self.

“I am the fastest second grader at Barnwell Elementary School.”

“I catch bigger fish than any of my friends.”

“I am so smart. I could easily do my older brother’s fifth grade math homework.”

Even as a young boy, I documented my supposed feats and accomplishments in an ironic fashion, finding humor in filling the pages of a private journal with over-the-top braggadocio.

But as we now know, some among our nation’s elite see no irony in such private arrogance.

The diary of Dr. Anthony Fauci  – released this month by Senator Rand Paul – reads more like the chronicles of a self-absorbed seven-year-old than a senior health official directing the response to a global pandemic.

“I am the most famous and talked about person in the country and one of the most recognizable [people] in the world,” he gushes in one entry.

“I am such a valued spokesperson and a good communicator,” he writes later.

“Apparently, a lot of people at the Pentagon admire me very much.”

Throughout the pandemic, Dr. Fauci repeatedly took to his journal to catalog fawning quotes from an online fan club, which called him “easy on the eyes.”

Elsewhere, in a particularly illuminating passage, Fauci describes a crowd “squealing and screaming” for him, admitting that it was “a little bit embarrassing.” However, in the good doctor’s view, such a greeting was understandable, for the next line reads “it was just a manifestation of how people need a symbol of integrity and truth.”

Fauci’s journal, in addition to offering an inside look at unparalleled narcissism, should serve as a cautionary tale for young men the world over.

It’s a self-serving, hubristic monument to ego. It’s everything a man’s journal should not be.

If one wants to see what a journal ought to be, they should look to the works of the truly great men through history. The explorers, generals, presidents, and pioneers.

When Lewis and Clark were trekking through the unmapped unknown, they came upon the Great Falls of the Missouri River. The Corps of Discovery was forced to drag their heavy dugout canoes 18 miles overland through impenetrable terrain, facing thick clouds of mosquitoes and oppressive summer heat, fearing attack from grizzly bears and Native Americans at every turn.

How did William Clark describe the grueling detour in his personal journal?

“This portage occupied us eighteen days.” That’s it.

Or take the humility of General Dwight D. Eisenhower, who just before the D-Day invasion wrote: “If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt it is mine alone.“

While he was prepared to shoulder the blame in case of failure, when the operation was a success, he was quick to deflect praise away from himself, writing, “No man could have done the job alone.”

When George Washington assumed command of the Continental Army in 1775, he did not celebrate his newfound fame or brag about how he was perceived by his fellow countrymen.

Instead, he wrote in his personal diary, “I do not think myself equal to the Command I am honored with.“

And a year later, when he led his ragtag troupe across the icy waters of the Delaware River, in what would become a legendary moment in American history, he wrote simply, “The army crossed the Delaware despite severe weather.”

These are men whose real-life exploits defy belief, but you wouldn’t know it from their journals.

Twenty-five years later, I still love to journal. But these days, I’m less concerned with documenting my imagined feats and accomplishments.

I’d rather the pages of my journal be filled with the adventures of our growing family, because in 50 years, I know I’ll be more interested in reading about the latest phrase my two-year-old invented, or the way my six-month-old laughs at his brother during bathtime. These are the little fleeting moments that will someday fade.

I don’t need to document every celebrity I meet, each show I appear on, or each flattering message from a supporter. Because none of that actually matters.

But I still think I’m the fastest kid at Barnwell Elementary School. 

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Cabot Phillips is an editor, writer, and commentator for The Daily Wire. He can be heard regularly on the Morning Wire podcast. Most recently, Phillips served as the Editor-in-Chief of Campus Reform. Prior to his work there, he was the Digital Grassroots Director for Marco Rubio’s presidential campaign. Phillips is also a YouTube partner, creating and starring in numerous videos which have amassed over 500 million views on varying online platforms.