In 1979, filmmaker Werner Herzog kept a promise.
He had once told fellow director Errol Morris that if Morris ever completed his first feature film, Herzog would eat his own shoe.
Morris finished the film.
So Herzog boiled his leather boot with garlic and herbs, softened it as much as possible, sliced it up, and ate it onstage in front of an audience. The whole thing was filmed by Les Blank.
It’s absurd, uncomfortable, and yet strangely beautiful.
Commitment Has Teeth
We love to talk about commitment when it feels aspirational.
We are less enthusiastic when it becomes chewy.
Herzog didn’t eat the shoe because he wanted to. He ate it because he said he would. And somewhere in that act—ridiculous, unnecessary, self-inflicted—there’s integrity.
He wasn’t just encouraging a young filmmaker. He was honouring his word. And there’s something bracing about that.
In a world of soft promises and strategic exits, he chose discomfort over retreat.
The Joy After the Chewing
What fascinates me isn’t that he suffered through it. It’s that he seemed to enjoy it.
Not the taste, obviously. But the act. The theater of it. The spirit of it.
He turned obligation into art.
That’s the move.
You don’t always get to avoid the hard thing you agreed to. But you do get to choose how you carry it. You can resent it… or you can transmute it.
There’s a difference between pain and meaning.
One drains you, the other fuels you.
A Steady Diet of Shoes
But here’s where this becomes less cinematic and more practical.
If you’re constantly eating metaphorical shoes, something’s off. Herzog’s act worked because it was rare. Symbolic. Finite. A one-time honoring of a specific promise.
If every week he was boiling leather to prove his integrity, we’d call it dysfunction. This is where discernment matters.
As Patrick Rhone often says, “Saying no is saying yes to other things.”
Every yes carries a cost. Some costs are worth paying. Some build character. Some deepen relationships. Some sharpen craft.
Others are just… shoes.
And if you’re not careful, you can build a life where you’re constantly chewing through commitments that never should have been made in the first place.
Choose Your Shoes Carefully
There is honour in keeping your word. There is wisdom in guarding it.
Before you say yes, ask:
- Is this a promise I’m willing to keep even when it hurts?
- Would I still do this if there were no applause?
- Is this a single ceremonial shoe… or the start of a footwear buffet?
Integrity is powerful. And so is restraint.
So eat a shoe once in a while. It reminds you who you are.