It might seem odd to label success as either good or bad, but I think there’s some value in recognizing the difference. But first off, some background.
Lately, I’ve been thinking more about a question I had some time ago: how can you choose to reject something and not also condemn it? This is easy if a thing doesn’t interest you, but not so easy if it does. For example, based on how many friends have described themselves as competitive, or who actively engage in competition of some kind, I would guess that roughly 1/3 of my friends would consider themselves competitive. Philosophical assumptions about what this even means aside, I’ve never truly understood this competitive drive, and my entire view of it was soured in high school by a few hot-headed athletes who used their skills to humiliate others. Moreover, in middle school jazz band, I was set back several chairs by a friend who honestly deserved the higher position, but the move initially deeply confused me, and my band director didn’t explain to me what it really meant, as I was too young to fully understand. This was something that was kind of humiliating in later years. In high school, a “friend” in a lower grade challenged me for my position in the line up, but I put his sorry prick ass in its place. I’m joking – it wasn’t that big of a deal – but it was frustrating to be challenged in this way, and as he was never really a “good” friend, I kind of kept him at a distance thereafter. My friends above me were never people I considered challenging (if I remember correctly). Who does that?
But over the years I’ve always been haunted by this feeling that I’m missing something, because although competition can be incredibly destructive, it’s hard to say that it’s inherently wrong, and it also seems incredibly petty to put people down who have accomplished a great deal, athletically or otherwise.
But about a month ago, I was pontificating around the house, and it hit me: the motivation behind success is what really matters.
Take two hockey players. One loves the challenge, loves the game, loves the camaraderie, and was naturally gifted enough to excel at it, eventually going pro. Another player had a cold and disapproving father who only showed faint signs of approval when his son was playing hockey and winning. The player happened to be gifted athletically and excelled at the sport, eventually going pro. One was motivated by sheer enjoyment, while the other was motivated by a desperation for approval. I would argue that one is a positive motivation, while the other is a negative motivation (which is not to be confused with a malicious motivation). These are, of course, contrived examples, but I think they illustrate the point that success can be driven by good things, while it can just as easily be driven by neurosis, or a deeper issue. But the problem is, as humans, we love to judge, but there’s no way to objectively decide whether a player has been driven to success for good reasons or bad. But if all you see are successful neurotics, it’s hard to think of success as a good thing. If all you see are good people playing a sport they love and dedicating great time and effort to it, its hard to see the naysayers as anything but envious.
I never want to put success down, but…have you seen what motivates people?
Now the pragmatist might say, “Aha! But what does it matter? Success is success!” It matters, because what we consider to be good and bad motivations have a huge impact on our value system. I’ve known guys who will ask out almost every girl they encounter. A healthy guy might see potential in everyone and feel boisterous enough to take a shot with every girl just to see if things might be a good fit. An unhealthy guy might just be desperate to get laid. In all honestly, though, most guys who do that sort of thing are the latter, and I don’t approve.
I’d say that success from bad motivations is one of the worst things of all, because that type of success keeps you trapped. The bad motivation has produced a “good thing” – success – but this has the potential to convince you the motivation is actually a good thing, too, when it really isn’t. And with the hustle bros, it often translates into a sort of arrogance, where the attainment of “success” seems to lend legitimacy to their cut-throat tactics, their obsession, or their worldview about the nature of work and the purpose of life. Some dude makes an investment, scores big, then thinks he’s a genius from thereon, hocking his system as the One True Way. Some other dude works 80 hour weeks, gets results (shocker), and thereafter is forever addicted to hard work, looking down on those 40 hour per week peasants. “Work harder!” In some cases, this involves a great deal of self-hatred, wrongly attributed as beneficial, because the outcome just looks so gosh darn positive.
That you can dedicate a great deal of time to something and become good at it should be no surprise, but why you dedicate that time determines whether it’s healthy for you. And I honestly believe that most motivations are misguided, probably my own as well.
See, not being competitive, it’s not really a core desire of mine to be “better” than others – rather, it is often a desire to be “unique” from others, or, tongue-in-cheek, “more unique”. But this of course is as vain as trying to be better than others – there will always be somebody who is “more unique” – or, in an odd twist of fate, “better” than me at my specialty. At the end of the day, I desperately do not feel like I am enough. When I am healthy, I learn because I am deeply curious about the world around me and love to explore the subjects that capture my interest, but when I am unhealthy, knowledge becomes a twisted obligation, a dark reason for my existence. We all know that this sort of motivation is tenuous at best.
It is not to say, “Do not achieve”. It’s to say, “Do as God would have you do, because of the good that he has planted in you. Let it grow as a tree beside a river, that it would bring life to you and those around you”. (I’ll probably continue to have more thoughts on this in the future, but I will leave it here for now)