The Dropout: Elizabeth Holmes Is an Extreme Product of Millennial Exceptionalism
Photo Courtesy of Hulu
Watching Hulu’s The Dropout miniseries has been a little surreal. Elizabeth Holmes and I are almost the same age, and the needle drops and cultural references that Elizabeth Meriwether’s series peppers throughout its story are nearly triggering. But what I was really struck by throughout Holmes’ documented rise and fall was how she appeared to be an extreme example of what I’ll call “Millennial Exceptionalism.” Out of the halcyon days of the 1990s economic boom and Clinton era came a generation told we could do anything. Hack comedians still mine this “everyone’s a winner” mentality, but it was a cultural force at the time. Essentially, you (likely white, privileged child) could achieve your dreams by sheer force of will, by visualizing it (a la The Secret), by leaning in.
In The Dropout, this all fits Holmes perfectly. She’s a smart and motivated overachiever from an upper-middle class family who simply doesn’t understand and cannot accept failure. After enrolling in Stanford, all she sees are possibilities ahead. This also came at a moment when a generation that grew up with home computer accessibility was seeing an exponential expansion in tech and the internet, which seemed to provide an open canvas for creating anything you wanted. It allowed young people to start companies from basements and garages because they had an idea about this new frontier that most adults didn’t really understand or want to engage with. Tech was for the youth.
At least, it was for awhile. And we’ve seen plenty of examples of how fraudsters young and old took advantage of that Wild West mentality, exploiting others along the way, and mostly landing gracefully thanks to golden parachutes. But as The Dropout hammers home early on, there was something revolutionary about Holmes’ idea that a drop of blood could give you a complete health scan. Yet she was also ahead of her time; the tech wasn’t there, and as one professor admonishes her early on, she wasn’t willing to put in the work to get there.
But this was clearly more than just the idea of instant gratification, something our society continues to struggle with and prioritize over safe working conditions (yes I mean Amazon, but there are plenty of others). It was back to this idea that “you can do anything you want by sheer force of will!” Elizabeth was not able to accept that her idea couldn’t be achieved, and quickly. If you’ve never allowed yourself to fail, and have been told repeatedly you can do anything, it doesn’t compute. Plus, tech was moving so incredibly fast, and innovations were popping up everywhere. When I started college, I had a giant carrying case I put in my car that held 500 CDs, and before I graduated I had replaced it with a digital device that held 30 GB of music and was the size of a credit card. Not long after that, the iPod’s innovative “wheel” was replaced by a touchscreen. And on, and on.
That kind of innovative excitement, which The Dropout documents, was contagious. Holmes was also a devotee of Steve Jobs and his business model, so why wouldn’t she expect that she—or someone on her team—could just make it work? In a culture that worships youth and trips over itself to uplift (usually privileged) young people as “the next big thing,” is it wrong to want to get in on that?
This certainly isn’t to absolve Holmes in any way, but it’s just such a fascinating mindset to see play out. Where things take a turn is how she (in this telling of her story) begins to distance herself from the reality of failure. All around her are slogans she clings to: “Do or do not. There is no try.” Or, “What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?” As her fame rises and her personality becomes melded with that of the company, Theranos is no longer allowed to fail. In her mind, this also justifies some of her most heinous actions and protects her from the fallout of her decisions, starting with Ian’s suicide.