How I Almost Made It into Who’s Who in America

It started with an email that caught my eye.

I had been nominated for consideration for inclusion in Marquis Who’s Who in America. I was skeptical, aware of scams and programs that offered no real value. Still, indicated interest in exploring the opportunity. Soon afterward came a few polite emails and phone calls inviting me for a 45-minute interview to verify my biography.

I did what most of us do—I went online to research them.

What I discovered was interesting.

Marquis Who’s Who has been publishing biographical directories since 1898. Its flagship publication, Who’s Who in America, was designed as the American counterpart to the British Who’s Who.

Over the decades it has chronicled the lives of notable individuals across fields like politics, business, science, education, and the arts. Their database now reportedly contains more than 1.6 million biographies, and they publish specialized volumes such as Who’s Who in the World and Who’s Who in Science and Engineering.

Reading about it, I couldn’t help imagining the company one might keep in such a directory. Over the years, its pages have included prominent leaders, professors, scientists, and law enforcement officers. Well-known figures such as Warren Buffett have even spoken publicly about the influence of Marquis Who’s Who on their lives, reinforcing the publication’s long-standing reputation for documenting notable careers.

Of course, I also noticed the mixed opinions scattered across the internet.

Some people spoke warmly about the long history of the publication. Others suggested the modern process sometimes included sales offers for optional commemorative products. The truth seemed to lie somewhere in between. Some others called it a scam. I totally disagreed with their assessment without wasting time! Others, called a vanity publication.

Still, the idea intrigued me.

So, at last, I scheduled the interview: Friday, March 6, 2026 at 11:45 AM.

Right on time, a pleasant and articulate woman called. For nearly an hour we talked through my background—education, work, family, and interests. She listened carefully and occasionally summarized what I said in language that sounded almost like the opening paragraph of a biography.

At one point she asked what gave me the greatest satisfaction in life.

Without hesitation I answered: being a father, a husband, and a church elder.

She paused and reflected on that thoughtfully, framing it in a way that made it sound almost noble. It was flattering—perhaps a little more flattering than I was accustomed to—but gracious all the same.

Near the end of the interview she told me that, based on what we had discussed, I would qualify for one of their higher recognition tiers.

Then the conversation gently shifted.

She explained that while basic inclusion in the directory did not require payment, many people chose to purchase additional items—expanded listings, commemorative plaques, or special editions of the printed directory.

One of the packages she described was $1,700+.

I listened, asked a few questions, and thought about it for a moment. The idea of having one’s biography preserved in a century-old directory had a certain charm.

But in the end, it simply wasn’t something I felt I needed badly, especially, given the “fee.” I am not saying that it wasn’t worth $1,700, but I thought of other things I could do with $1,700 at that time.

So, I thanked her sincerely—for the interview, for her kind words, and for taking the time to walk me through the process. Then I politely declined the packages.

She was gracious—not anything like some of the “aggressive salespeople” some had written about them. She wished me well, and we ended the call cordially.

When I hung up, I found myself smiling a little.

For a brief moment, I had imagined my name printed somewhere among top entrepreneurs, scientists, professors, and public figures online and in a thick reference volume called Who’s Who in America.

And while that might have been interesting, ....…

I was already quite content with the roles that mattered most to me—a father, a husband, and a church elder.

COMMENTS: Comments are disabled for this post.