Competition
From my earliest memory, I have watched other people do things that I cannot do. Just to help you understand where I'm coming from -- and not, certainly, in any way an attempt for sympathy -- I had polio in 1950, at the age of eleven months. It left me partially paralyzed, and I still wear a brace on my right leg and have trouble accomplishing tasks that most people consider easy. But the point here is simply that, while growing up, virtually every person I knew could far more easily do things that I was unable to do. Sports, of course, were out for me; but also many other similar physically-demanding tasks were beyond my capabilities.
I succeeded in many other ways, and this essay is not really about me or about my successes or failures. It is about how I now view "competition." And it is about how I view the pursuit of competitiveness for its own sake. I admire all of those in the world who have challenged themselves to succeed physically. But the part I don't get is the enormous amount of people in the world who are content to watch.
I suppose it's a natural part of human nature to want to watch others succeed. But since I was never a part of the sports competition world, I was never interested in the accomplishments of athletes. Throughout my life, I've tried, without success, to understand the fascination with athletic competition, team loyalty, and the like. It hasn't sunk in yet. These days, I'm more interested in why so many people are interested in competition television--shows like Survivor and those similar. If I thought about it for long, of course, I could admit that even from my earliest days of watching television in the 1950s, viewers seemed fascinated with game shows, in which people competed for moeny and prizes.
In the end, though, I guess the part that's troubling to me about all of this competition -- at least in the USA -- are these questions: Are we truly glad to see someone "win" simply because that's a "good" thing? Are we secretly happy to see people lose? Are we simply too lazy to get up and do things for ourselves and, therefore, content to watch others compete and succeed/fail?
I certainly have no answers. I know, however, that for whatever reason, competition doesn't seem to interest me much. So that cuts me out of about half of what is shown on television.
Next time, I'll have to write about why the remaining 49% of television doesn't attract my interest.
I succeeded in many other ways, and this essay is not really about me or about my successes or failures. It is about how I now view "competition." And it is about how I view the pursuit of competitiveness for its own sake. I admire all of those in the world who have challenged themselves to succeed physically. But the part I don't get is the enormous amount of people in the world who are content to watch.
I suppose it's a natural part of human nature to want to watch others succeed. But since I was never a part of the sports competition world, I was never interested in the accomplishments of athletes. Throughout my life, I've tried, without success, to understand the fascination with athletic competition, team loyalty, and the like. It hasn't sunk in yet. These days, I'm more interested in why so many people are interested in competition television--shows like Survivor and those similar. If I thought about it for long, of course, I could admit that even from my earliest days of watching television in the 1950s, viewers seemed fascinated with game shows, in which people competed for moeny and prizes.
In the end, though, I guess the part that's troubling to me about all of this competition -- at least in the USA -- are these questions: Are we truly glad to see someone "win" simply because that's a "good" thing? Are we secretly happy to see people lose? Are we simply too lazy to get up and do things for ourselves and, therefore, content to watch others compete and succeed/fail?
I certainly have no answers. I know, however, that for whatever reason, competition doesn't seem to interest me much. So that cuts me out of about half of what is shown on television.
Next time, I'll have to write about why the remaining 49% of television doesn't attract my interest.