We teach our kids to be competitive. Since we want the best for them, we put them into the best preschool we can afford, hoping to get the edge for admission into the best kindergarten. And so it goes, all the way through to university and graduate school. Sometimes it is not so much the education itself but the cachet of having the right degree that we are aiming for. For that will determine whom our child knows and what doors are open to him. Ultimately, we believe, it will determine how much money he makes.
Ours is a competitive society. We believe in hard work, pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps, personal responsibility. We believe in sports and team play. We believe we live in a meritocracy and that all this competitive striving will bring rewards. The purpose of this article is not to dispute any of this; rather it is to put it in perspective, particularly the perspective of an older person.
I am on the far side of the arc of life. I have grown up, been educated, played a part in raising a family, and retired from a job I loved. So I look at life not as future possibility or as the hectic present of job and growing family. Instead I strive to remain relevant.
Indeed, virtue is in the striving. Sports teach us to try harder and to play as a team. University teaches us to hone a critical intelligence. But what is the goal we are striving for? Winning the game? Landing the job after college?
There is only one thing wrong with these goals: they might be reached. If they have not been thought of from the start as sub-goals, stepping stones to a higher end, goals like winning the game can take on a corrosive power.
At the moment of success there is a well-earned feeling of exuberance. Like many pleasures, however, the feeling quickly fades. Too often what we learn from this experience is that we have to go on winning if we are to continue feeling good. Gradually our self-worth creeps into the equation: we are no good unless we keep winning.
The parallels to addictions of all kinds should serve as a warning. Drugs, gambling, sex, and countless other cravings have the same short arc of pleasure, the same compulsive return to the trough, the same sapping of the spirit. What, then?
There is an old Arab proverb which, robbed of its poetry, says roughly: If you strive towards a noble goal, do not be content with less than the stars/ For the life's blood you spend (on a lesser goal) will be the same life's blood you spend climbing reaching for the stars.
If what we do is to have meaning, we must work for a purpose larger than ourselves. The work begins in elementary school and before, where we learn that we are not the center of the universe and that we must respect the dignity of others. Later we learn that as a team we can achieve more. In these endeavors there is always a currency. We play as a team to win games. We work as a team to make money. Our progress toward (or away from) the regional championship or the Fortune 500 is measured by games won or by net worth.
Where we can go astray is in becoming distracted by the currency. Winning games or making money become goals in themselves. We forfeit our honor and sometimes our soul.
The legend of Arthur bears heavily on this issue. He becomes King not because of superior prowess as a knight but because he is the only one who can pull the sword from the stone. He is born of a loveless union and dies at the hand of his son, born of another loveless and deceitful union with his half-sister. He is betrayed in his own love by his best friend and most trusted knight.
But Arthur understands that it is his destiny to lead. He comes to understand that he will suffer and not know many of the comforts of being human. The Holy Grail he seeks is, in the end, nothing more or less than being true to his work.
There, in essence, is the challenge that faces us. Will we know, at the hour of our death, that we have done the best we can with the gifts we have been given? That we have been true to our work?
The temptations will always be with us. To seek pleasure and avoid pain. To win at any cost. To believe, because we are in a meritocracy and we have made money, that we are better than our fellows.
But in the end nobody is fooled, not even ourselves. Our goal cannot be simply the best outcome for me. We must aim higher than that. We must not fail to give back to humanity the unique and precious gift that each of us has been given.
Is there a social, political, or economic system which makes this more likely? Probably not. But as individuals we can set ourselves noble goals and live a life of honor.