Ray Dalio is a highly prominent figure in the world of venture investing. The company he founded, Bridgewater, ranks among the top ten largest private hedge funds globally. Ray Dalio is also known for his management approach, based on meritocracy and algorithms. His entire life and work are imbued with a set of principles and methods he has developed over many years and tested in real-world scenarios. Frequently sharing his ideas at conferences, Dalio has stepped away from direct management of the company but aims to make his accumulated knowledge—the fruit of decades of reflection—accessible to others. This led him to write the book Principles, where he outlines his views on life and management.
As an individual, he has greatly influenced other notable figures. For instance, the Russian edition of this book opens with an introduction by Herman Gref, Chairman of the Board at Sberbank of Russia. Additionally, the cover features a quote from Bill Gates, the founder of Microsoft.
The book Principles: Life and Work spent quite some time on my “to-read soon” list, even though I wouldn’t consider myself an ardent follower of this manager. However, I’ve heard plenty of praise about him from acquaintances. While reading the book, I got the impression that opinions about Ray as a person and his work are quite polarized. Some practically idolize him, while others see him as tedious and excessively overhyped. What’s my take? Let’s dive in.
One of Ray Dalio’s principles is to always tell the truth and only the truth—to be as open and honest as possible. Well, I fully support such an approach. So my review will also adhere to this maxim.
The central theme of the book, as the title suggests, is an explanation of the principles by which Ray Dalio structured both his personal life and the creation of a company that brought him worldwide recognition. However, the first quarter of the book is dedicated to describing his life journey—how he began his career, the ups and downs he experienced, when he felt on top of the world as a mega-expert, and how life often proved him wrong, sometimes taking away nearly everything.
A quarter of the book is quite substantial, considering that the entire book spans over 600 pages. For me, this biographical section was rather dull since I’ve never been particularly close to the world of pure finance and investments. On one hand, many of the terms were nearly meaningless to me; on the other, it’s hard to connect with the interests of a person when your own lie in an entirely different realm. While this section contains some hints about his principles, the author promises to discuss them in more detail later. To use a metaphor, the first part felt like trying to explain the joys of entomology to an avid angler. At best, they might be intrigued by the idea of using moths for bait—purely for practical reasons.
Encouraged by the glowing recommendations of acquaintances and this lengthy prelude to the principles, I had high expectations for the second part of the book. But as soon as the author began discussing them—what a slog. Wordy and heavy-handed, the writing style felt burdensome. I read the book in Russian translation, but the issue wasn’t the choice of words—it was the presentation. It felt like the author was thinking out loud as he wrote, creating a noisy stream of consciousness in which the principle and its rationale were often difficult to grasp. The narrative frequently drifted far from the original idea, wandering into tangential events or related musings. After ten pages, I often couldn’t even recall what the principle was or what we were discussing in the first place.
And this wasn’t an isolated issue—it applied to nearly all 400 remaining pages.
Honestly, I don’t understand why so many people praise this book. Undoubtedly, Ray Dalio is a remarkable individual, having built a leading company. On the other hand, Donald Trump also built a vast empire, but that doesn’t mean his life principles are universally admired (to say the least, plenty of people disagree with them).
The success of Bridgewater cannot be attributed solely to the principles created and promoted by Ray Dalio. Maybe they contributed, or maybe they had little impact, while the true drivers were his deep understanding of his field and a trial-and-error approach. And the same approach might have failed for thousands of others. We often glorify the methods and lifestyles of successful individuals, but isn’t this just survivorship bias? How many other people have achieved similar success without following these principles? And how many “perished” in the struggle while using similar methods and principles? I fear no one can say for sure because failures don’t attract attention—they simply aren’t interesting to anyone.
There are many principles in the book, formally divided into groups, but while reading, you don’t get the sense of a cohesive system. It feels more like a collection of musings on various topics, loosely pieced together into something resembling a system. Though you do understand that at Bridgewater, Ray Dalio and his colleagues built a fully operational system. Still, as you read about the relationships and operations within the company, you’re left with a distinct impression of mechanization. It’s as if everything was translated into checklists, algorithms, and formulas—including people themselves. Instead of seeing a strong team of allies (which the employees there likely are), I envisioned a factory populated solely by robots acting strictly according to algorithms, with no room for humanity.
Even when Ray Dalio delves into principles related to how our brains work—something he explored and incorporated into his own system—it still comes across as excessively dry. He tries to explain why we do what we do, but the examples fail to inspire and are tough to wade through. Perhaps I’ve simply been spoiled by other exceptionally engaging books on the same topic, such as those by Asya Kazantseva.
Unfortunately, I find it hard to pinpoint what is genuinely good about this book. There are some interesting thoughts on meritocracy and why the truth, even when bitter, is better than half-truths and backroom scheming. However, most of the material is dry and tedious advice without clear examples. Many of the principles aren’t novel; they’re widely known facts and methodologies in management. It’s unclear why they’re presented as groundbreaking revelations here, making the content doubly dull.
Frankly, I was deeply disappointed and had to force myself to finish the book, slogging through its verbosity and dryness. The author’s style doesn’t captivate, and at times it feels like Dalio isn’t sharing these principles with the reader so much as trying to convince himself that his methods are valid and correct. There’s an underlying tone of self-assurance that after his departure, things won’t fall apart—though, as he himself admits, the first time he stepped back from leadership, even his much-lauded principles couldn’t prevent chaos, and much had to be redone. This, in turn, highlights how closely tied these principles are to his personal leadership.
Moreover, in the book’s first part, he repeatedly demonstrates how blind faith in his own infallibility and principles has backfired on him, often landing him in trouble. Why not entertain the possibility that the current phase may one day reveal the limitations of these methods? Maybe time just hasn’t shown it yet. Of course, Bridgewater is a multi-billion-dollar company, so it’s unlikely everything there is amiss. But… there’s always a “but.”
P.S. I reread my review and realized it came out extremely negative. That’s unfortunate, because I can’t say the book is entirely bad. It’s just that my very high expectations played a role. It feels like everyone anticipates profound insights from a mega-successful individual, yet in practice, the result falls short. And at the same time, it’s no longer fashionable to declare, “The emperor has no clothes.” After all, Bill Gates and Herman Gref endorse the book, and they’re undoubtedly more successful than I am in financial matters.
My rating: 2/5
