Zero Sum

We’re conditioned from birth to be competitive. This could be an American thing or maybe it’s just an inevitable result of modern culture.

If you can’t be the “most” something, then at least you can be “more”. It used to be having the biggest car, and then it was the smallest phone. You’re supposed to want the most friends on Facebook, the most followers on Twitter and to be a mayor on Foursquare. Feel free to substitute salary, breasts, gigabytes, muscles, grades, enlightenment or whatever the ideal is for your circumstances.

Most, -est, more… see what I mean? But it’s not always so extreme. As the old joke goes, “I don’t have to run that fast. I just have to run faster than you.” We attack social intercourse (I could have said “interaction” but I wanted to see if you’re awake) competitively. When I meet someone, more often than not I feel as if my value is being assessed and compared. Sometimes, generally when the result isn’t in my favor, I find myself doing the assessing. I wish I wouldn’t, but the instinct is there.

The Big Dog is visiting. Both dogs have bowls of kibble. It’s the same kibble, but Jonah wouldn’t touch his own bowl. He hogged the Big Dog’s bowl. It’s all about the competition, and as is so often true, the little dog won. Or he thinks he did. The Big Dog cleared both bowls after Jonah was done.