One of the dominant metaphors in this society equates our very existence to competition. This small projection encourages much stuckness. I find it almost impossible to accept that Darwin never did conclude that competition determines the survival of the fittest. But he didn’t. He said, instead, that evolution worked ‘as if’ the fittest survived. Plenty of unlikely, slow-witted critters found habitable niches. Likewise, Adam Smith never once explained market economics as being controlled by an invisible hand. He, too, invoked the entrancing ‘as if’ when speaking of his metaphorical mitt. Darwin’s and Smith’s mighty ifs are mighty big Ifs.

Stuckness might be the inevitable result of mistaking metaphor for fact, the illustrative for the definitive, the simile for literal truth. We compete like eight year olds, proudly proclaiming, “I beat!”, when we’ve only happened to get to the door first, then secretly subvocalizing, “Loser!”, beside our unwitting competitor. Competition, in its rightful place, can be great. Outside its relevant range, competition becomes just an elaborate form of self-destruction. Complitition.

It’s complicated. Just because we live in a market-ish society doesn’t excuse mindless competing. Nor should it disqualify non-competing. Competing can’t be an imperative, but must remain a choice or become simply silly or tragic.

No, there needn’t necessarily be a loser or a winner. Life is not mere competition. To thrive, any society—any individual—probably needs more cooperation than competition. Any society operating as if competition defines its identity inevitably creates many more losers than winners. Losing couldn’t fuel a constant desire to win. After a few iterations, those remaining on the field won’t be the best and the brightest, who would certainly have figured out the game by then, but those who’ve learned to game the game and those who only believe they have. Cons and shills.

I experience guilt and remorse when I ‘win’ a competition. Always have. When playing little league baseball, I hoped the other side would win so I wouldn’t have to feel sorry for them. When I played racquetball, my partner grew frustrated at how I always insisted upon starting each game by declaring, “Zero zero, the perfect score. It all goes downhill from here!” Zen competition, I called it, where the purpose was play, understanding that the points might well get in the way of any serious enjoyment.

Competition is complicated enough to leave anyone feeling stuck sometimes. Complitition.

©2012 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: Unstuck Stuck Consulting