"Luck is not something you can mention in the presence of self-made men"

Self-made individuals often attribute their achievements primarily to their own effort, intelligence, and determination. When others attribute any part of their success to luck, it can be perceived as diminishing their personal agency or minimizing the enormous sacrifices, risks, and work involved. The phrase suggests an unwritten social rule: discussing luck in the company of those who have dedicated themselves to building their fortunes is almost taboo, perhaps even offensive to their sense of identity.

For many self-made men, the narrative of their lives is one of seizing opportunities, enduring hardship, and overcoming adversity. Acknowledging luck can seem to detract from the carefully constructed story of perseverance and merit, suggesting that external, uncontrollable forces played a pivotal role. The label "self-made" itself implies sole authorship, complete responsibility for one’s fate. Within this mindset, luck appears to undermine the value of choice, discipline, and vision.

Yet, for outside observers, luck is undeniable. Circumstances of birth, timing, chance encounters, and unforeseen opportunities—these often play a role, even in the most deliberate journeys. The challenge is that luck is unpredictable and can be as humbling as it is enabling. For the self-made, it may be psychologically necessary to underplay randomness or fortune, because to emphasize it threatens the credit for one’s achievements and, by extension, the sense of self-worth that accompanies them.

E. B. White’s words are filled with irony and gentle critique. He highlights the fragility of narratives around success and the discomfort that arises when credit is shifted from personal effort to chance. The refusal to mention luck in such circles reveals both pride and vulnerability—a deep need to believe in self-determination, and maybe a silent fear that fate, not just willpower, is ultimately in control. The polite silence around luck is thus not just etiquette; it's a defense of a cherished self-concept.