The Let Them Theory may be ‘non-fiction’ but it has no facts

Illustration by David Foldvari

Such was the case when every woman in London had to endure lectures on first dates about Yuval Noah Harari’s Sapiens, because every man in London was reading the book on the tube (Sapiens spent 182 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list, 96 of which were consecutive).

One such success story is Mel Robbins’s The Let Them Theory, which, since being published late last year, has sold more than seven million copies, dominating the bestseller charts for 30 weeks. A self-help book for a generation of rampant individualists, the premise of The Let Them Theory is relatively simple. “What if the key to happiness, success, and love was as simple as two words,” it asks. “If you’ve ever felt stuck, overwhelmed, or frustrated with where you are, the problem isn’t you. The problem is the power you give to other people.” If a colleague is being rude to you at work, Robbins advises: “Instead of letting their negativity affect you, just say Let Them. Let them be grumpy. It’s not your problem. Focus on your work and how you feel... the more you let other people live their lives, the better your life gets”.

In other words, The Let Them Theory focuses on a person’s internal locus of control rather than external factors (while conveniently also absolving the reader from ever being the problem). In the first part of the book, Robbins – a podcast host, lawyer and Ted talker – teaches us to consciously take responsibility for our own actions and feelings. The second part then prompts us to shift the focus of our world away from other people and back onto ourselves and our own choices. By doing so, the theory goes, we are “reclaiming mental and emotional energy that might otherwise be spent on uncontrollable situations.”

Despite the obvious immaturity of The Let Them Theory – this is psychology for people who think “6-7” is funny, and who are young enough to know what that means (look it up) – audiences really, really buy into it. It’s been hugely successful even outside the metrics of bestseller lists. Oprah Winfrey had Robbins on her podcast and told the author that it was one of the best books she had ever read. Ever. This endorsement is presumably how it feels to be anointed by God. And, naturally, there’s been plenty of online pick-up too. Mainly it’s been seized upon by young women, usually in their mid-twenties, who are in the throes of the era of life in which you are being constantly and enthusiastically mistreated by mean boys.

And look, I get it. When you are being enthusiastically mistreated by mean boys, who invariably you are having regular sex with, there is nothing more appealing than an explanation – backed by psychology, the publishing industry and Oprah Winfrey – that tells you it’s not your fault, and that all you need to do is let them act badly and immaturely and disengage entirely, like some sort of benevolent demi-goddess. Essentially, Mel Robbins is monetising the role historically played by long-suffering best friends.

Obviously, I have a few major problems with this book. First, its title is a misnomer. This is not a theory. It is a self-helper’s lucrative, surface-level life mantra that is in no way, shape or form theoretical. You can only generously designate it as a “theory” if viewed through the lens of TikTok. (Frequently I find myself opening TikTok and falling down a rabbit hole watching videos of American teenagers with perfect blowouts telling me about something like “Saturday theory” when the theory in question amounts to: “Saturdays are good”.)

But even disregarding the grift, The Let Them Theory is more encouragement to see ourselves as the main characters of our lives, and to treat everyone around us as lesser humans, as if they were the non-playable characters in a video game. I am frequently reminded of the best life advice I’ve ever read, which came from the mind of Girls’ actor Jemima Kirke. Kirke occasionally hosts agony aunt style Q&As on her Instagram for her followers. In November 2022, when asked if she had any advice for “unconfident young women”, Kirke was gently devastating in her reply: “I think you guys might be thinking about yourselves too much.”

The Let Them Theory might insulate us from the pain of interpersonal relationships, but it’s not a good thing, for ourselves or for the world. The pressure, particularly for young women, to be pillars of individualism and self-sufficiency, may have had good intentions (about learning to love yourself and not constantly searching for validation in others) but it’s led us to where we are today, in the grips of a bleak mentality that says: “you don’t owe anyone else anything”.

Of course, we do owe each other things. We owe each other confrontation, intimacy, the capacity to hurt and to forgive one another. That’s what life is. Leaning into the narcissism and solipsism of The Let Them Theory only serves to isolate us further. It is a bitter pill to swallow – and I think part of growing up – to realise that we’re not the most important person in the world, that our lives aren’t movies and we shouldn’t treat other people as supporting characters within our extended universe.

The one probable exception is Oprah Winfrey. Oprah probably is the main character. But the rest of us mere mortals still need to interact with each other, stop letting ourselves be brainwashed by self-help books and accept the idea that, sometimes, the problem is you.