Have you ever drafted a 3,000-word retort in the middle of the night?
You were manipulated by a client, backstabbed by a colleague, or targeted by an ex’s passive-aggressive social media post. Hands shaking with anger, you painstakingly drafted an impassioned “declaration of war.” You wrote until 3:00 AM. It was so stirring that you even moved yourself.
And then?
Then you stared at the “Send” button for three minutes. Finally, you quietly selected all and hit delete.
Congratulations. In those three minutes, you made the most important decision of your life.
Because the vast majority of the time, clapping back—no matter how cathartic it feels—is a guaranteed losing proposition. You win the verbal battle, but lose the strategic high ground.
On this subject, a man who remained completely unfazed under the heaviest global crossfire has given us a textbook demonstration.
May 15, 2019. The US Department of Commerce placed Huawei on the “Entity List.”
What did this mean? Every company worldwide using US technology—from chipmakers to software developers—was prohibited from supplying Huawei. Overnight, Huawei was caught by the throat.
The whole world was waiting to see Ren Zhengfei collapse. At the press conference, cameras were virtually shoved into his face, desperate to capture a trace of anger or panic.
He smiled.
“Apple is my teacher. I still use an iPhone every day.” The audience was stunned.
A reporter pressed: “How do you feel about being sanctioned by the US?” He picked up his teacup, took a sip: “The US is not a monolith. Their politicians have their agendas, and their enterprises have theirs.”
No gnashing of teeth. No nationalistic slogans. No tearful accusations. He was actually smiling.
The world was baffled: Was this 75-year-old man, currently besieged by the entire Western tech industry, not angry?
Ren Zhengfei’s “Chessboard”
Why could he smile?
Because he had foreseen this day back in 2004.
A full 15 years earlier, Ren began building his “wartime reserves.” In 2004, Huawei launched its in-house chip development program and founded HiSilicon. At that time, HiSilicon was a marginalized division within the company—their chips underperformed Qualcomm’s, couldn’t be sold, and bled money year after year. People questioned: “We have supply from Qualcomm and Broadcom, why do we need to build our own?”
Ren said something that would later prove prophetic: “We may never need to use this spare tire. But we must have it.”
Must have it.
In 2012, he went a step further—pouring capital into developing an operating system. Yes, what later became HarmonyOS. Android was at the height of its dominance; building a new OS was roughly equivalent to throwing money into the Pacific Ocean. But he insisted on doing it.
So when the US brought down the guillotine in 2019—where others saw a crisis, Ren Zhengfei saw a chessboard he had been setting up for 15 years.
HiSilicon chips were pulled out of the drawer. HarmonyOS went live. The spare tires were put into active service.
He didn’t need to be angry. Because your attack was already calculated into his chessboard long ago.
The Everyday Crucible
You might say: “I’m not Ren Zhengfei. I don’t have 15 years of strategic reserves.”
But the underlying logic of remaining unperturbed has absolutely nothing to do with whether you have money, power, or ten thousand engineers.
Think about your everyday crucible:
Your child’s teacher calls out your kid in the parents’ group chat. What is your first reaction? Anger goes to your head, and you furiously type out, “What gives you the right to publicly…” And then all the parents see it. And then you become “that difficult parent.” And then your child has an even harder time at school.
Your partner picks a fight and throws out: “You are completely useless.” What is your counterattack? “What about you? How are you any better?” Then the two of you escalate from arguing about values to digging up old grudges, from digging up grudges to smashing things. Ultimately, neither of you remembers what the original argument was even about.
With every retort where you “win the verbal battle,” what are you actually losing? You are losing the strategic high ground. You are losing your leverage. You are losing the last shred of respect the other person has for you.
Remaining unperturbed is not cowardice. Remaining unperturbed is not capitulation. Remaining unperturbed means you clearly understand: this incoming attack does not alter any underlying fundamentals. It is not worth disrupting your own breathing and rhythm.
Where is Your “Spare Tire Plan”?
Of course, remaining unperturbed relies on a brutal prerequisite— You must have leverage.
Ren Zhengfei could smile and drink his tea because he spent 15 years building a spare tire plan. You can maintain your poise when your boss yells at you because you know exactly what your skills are worth on the open market—you don’t have to beg on your knees. You can turn and walk away when a client insults you because you have other clients—you haven’t put all your eggs in one basket.
Remaining unperturbed without leverage is passive submission. Remaining unperturbed with a spare tire plan is true freedom.
So, the next time you feel the anger rising and sense you are about to explode—
Don’t rush to retort. Ask yourself one question first: “Even if I endure this, do I have the assets in hand to flip the board?”
If you do—smile and pick up your teacup. Let the other side lose their minds.
An actionable exercise for this week: Pick one thing you are currently most anxious about and terrified of losing (a job, a major client). Spend twenty minutes mapping out on paper exactly how you would survive if you lost it tomorrow. The moment you clearly document this “reserve parachute,” you will find that you suddenly possess a profoundly compelling sense of ease regarding your current primary pursuit.
If you don’t—then the most important thing for you to do right now is not to retort, but to urgently prepare your spare tire.
Anger is the cheapest of all emotions. Silence, sometimes, is the most expensive weapon.
