Comparison and Perspective
Comparison = Resentment Fuel
It is often said that comparison is the thief of joy. It’s often said because it’s often true. No amount of success, accomplishment, or money can fully protect you from feeling disappointed by — or jealous of — those who have more than you.
A really good example comes from the world of music. There was a guitarist named Dave Mustaine who got booted from his band. He would go on to create a new band that would become one of the most successful and influential heavy metal acts of all time. Its achievements would include over 50 million records sold worldwide, five platinum-certified albums, and a historic number-one debut on the Billboard 200 with its farewell record. It is exceptionally hard to make it as a musician at all, let alone to reach this level of success and wealth. Certainly this guitarist ought to live in a state of gratitude, peace, and contentment with all he had accomplished — right?
Despite the staggering success he achieved, he would ruminate endlessly over that old departure, forever measuring himself against the band that had booted him. That band was Metallica. Their Black Album would be certified 20 times platinum, spend hundreds of weeks on the Billboard 200, and sell over 31 million copies worldwide. Metallica became not just spectacularly successful but one of the best-selling music acts in history. Rather than taking joy in his own achievements, he spent his energy looking across at those who had done even better. He missed out on fully enjoying Megadeth’s impressive legacy because he insisted on measuring it against Metallica’s.
Supercharged by Social Media
Historically, our comparative set was rather small: a tribe, a village, a small town. With few enough people, you could become distinctive at something within your social group — the best painter, the best singer, the finest football player, the most handsome.
In the age of social media, this is no longer the case. Your comparative set is quasi-infinite. Measured against hundreds of millions — even billions — of people, it is all but statistically certain that you will never be the best: not the fastest pitcher, not the brightest chess player you come across. Those distinctions go to statistical outliers, impressive in their own right, but the comparison will leave you feeling diminished if you can’t help making it. The temptation is ever-present; we are social creatures. I would be lying if I said I never succumb to it myself.
Worse yet, this comparison is mediated and accelerated by social media, whose algorithms are built to surface the most extraordinary, spiky, and distinctive individuals and put them in our faces. The normal and the average are boring. Even the somewhat-above-average rarely registers. The only thing that goes wildly viral is the exceptional: lifestyles, spending, looks, abilities, skills, and habits, all shown at their extremes. It can make people feel small and inconsequential by comparison — a powerful fuel for jealousy, resentment, and depression.
Choosing a Different Comparative Set
If we can’t help but compare, perhaps we can improve our gratitude and contentment by choosing a better comparative set. It’s for this reason that I enjoy reading books set in the past, and learning the history of the world and the stories of my own family generations back.
Even the wealthiest, most powerful individuals of just a few centuries ago had far less comfort, and far less access to modern miracles, than the average American today. To treat a headache with ibuprofen, take a hot shower, or drive down an interstate at seventy miles an hour would have been nearly beyond the comprehension of our recent ancestors.
You might think me a bit morbid, but I have come to enjoy reading books about tragedy for the perspective they give me: a reminder that even an ordinary Wednesday is an extraordinary blessing. Three books in this vein I’d like to share:
- A River in Darkness, which follows a half-Japanese, half-Korean boy whose family is lured into North Korea, into a life of absolute privation and despair.
- Out of the Silence, which chronicles the Uruguayan rugby team whose plane crash-landed in the Andes and who endured an unimaginable ordeal of survival — the crash itself, a subsequent avalanche, brutal sub-zero temperatures, altitude sickness, and starvation — losing many of their teammates and loved ones along the way.
- When Breath Becomes Air, which tells the story of a brain surgeon confronting a terminal cancer diagnosis. There is no single acute, horrific moment like those in the prior two books — only a gentle reminder not to defer living, but to treasure each day as the gift it is.
Family History
There is great power in learning the stories of your parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents — the trials and struggles of their lives — and in recognizing the great inheritance you have been given. We enjoy the fruits of those who planted and tended a garden across generations. It is a disservice to all those who came before us to take no contentment in the many blessings and opportunities of our own day.
My ancestors on both my mother’s and father’s sides were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Forced west by mobs and guns, they settled the barren lands of the Mountain West and turned them into prosperous communities. My great-grandfather Clyde Eugene Perkins lived in a mud hut in the early days of his marriage and endured days of back-breaking labor in the harsh Nevada sun — yet through it all he remained a man of great faith, integrity, and love.
Words of Warning
Be very careful with comparison. Choose deliberately whom you measure yourself against, and stay alert to how those comparisons shape your perspective, for good or ill. In this endeavor, social media is your absolute enemy.