In the alarmist tradition of Orson Wells, or perhaps Henny Penny (aka and/or dba Chicken Little), I feel it my duty to warn you of a destructive force wreaking havoc in the Universe, a force that truly seems capable of causing the sky to fall. It’s invisible, odorless, weightless, quiet as a whisper in a snowstorm, and just generally undetectable. A stealthy sneak that stows away in the genetic bundle handed from one generation to the next.
What is this mysterious, nefarious, freeloading force, you ask? This feckless phantom? This malicious malefactor? The culprit, friend, is compulsive comparison.
Before I go on, let me first note that science of various stripes will tell you there are very sound biological reasons behind our compulsion to compare. Lots of animals do it. In fact, it comes straight from the limbic, or “animal” brain. Comparing apparently helps us know where we stand relative to others. The greater our status, the greater our chances for survival. And vice-versa.
Incidentally, elevating our status also gets us high. For real. Just ask Loretta Graziano Breuning, founder of the Inner Mammal Institute and host of the Happy Brain podcast. She explains that when we elevate our status (or even perceive it to have been elevated), our brain rewards us with little drips of “happy chemicals,” like serotonin. This of course incents us to do it again. And again…and again.
And when we perceive a dip in our status? That same drug-dispensing animal brain of ours dribbles out stress chemicals. Just to let us know our ass could become grass if we don’t make hay in a hurry.
But to be clear, I’m talking here from my very layperson…status…about the shadow side of comparison. The creepy, creative and clever compulsion I see all the time in myself and others to compare ourselves in ways that send us hurtling headlong into despair at the greatest velocity possible.
These sorts of comparisons, when viewed from the ego-free high ground of objectivity, seem utterly absurd. For instance, I recently caught myself despairing over the gap between my barely perceptible level of equanimity and that of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama. Then there’s my seemingly irresistible and incessant need to compare the productivity level of my 53-year-old self with my exponentially more vigorous 33-year-old self.
How often do you catch yourself comparing under the effects of positional bias? Comparing yourself to some paragon of seeming perfection, or perhaps with all the bright and shiny stars dotting the Interweb? I can tell you that in my life, compulsive comparing has sometimes had all the automaticity of respiration, with none of the life-giving effects.
Despair can easily follow compare when we’re simply measuring ourselves with a yardstick calibrated for an entirely different sort of life than the one we’re living.
To wit, a parable: A few months back, I found myself plagued by cognitive dissonance. It was a fair and footloose summer day, free of any pressing obligations, with no problems on the horizon. Alas, I found myself awash in free-floating gloom. I felt the small, insistent throb of “not-enough” coursing through my bloodstream.
When my discomfort began to feel like an army of fire ants filtering through my viscera, I started asking questions. A lot of questions. Did this have something to do with my life looking so different than the lives of others in my family of origin? Or than what I perceived to be the “typical" lives of “mainstream American men” of my age (by the way, if you’re scratching your head trying to figure out what the foregoing even means, well…let me know if you manage to pin it down)? Check and check. I had stepped into the snare of compare and despair.
As I drilled deeper with my inquiry, I saw clearly that I was using the wrong yardstick to measure my status. It was calibrated with values and ideals that could potentially be a fit for people with whom I share certain demographics (age, race, location, education level, etc.). But those same values didn’t apply at all for someone with my psychographics (attitudes, values, beliefs, aspirations). Sheesh. No wonder I felt inadequate and inept. It was time for me to snap that yardstick over my knee.
I’m finding that the more I look – and listen – around, the more I see and hear how widespread the wear and tear of compare/despair really is. Comparing ourselves against standards that are flat-out impossible or categorically dissimilar does no small amount of damage. At every level – mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually. It’s insidious, corrosive and potentially lethal. No joke.
Fortunately, unlike many kinds of wear and tear, this kind is reversible. But it requires paying attention to self. And that’s no small feat in a society that draws one’s gaze outward with non-stop sensory stimulation, low hanging dopamine, and convenience culture. Who wants to sit and quietly ponder their lack of ontological security when a bit of sprint scrolling through their social media feed will, at the very least, crank up their adrenaline and cortisol levels and help them feel alive for a few minutes?
The way I see it, there are convincing short and long term motivations for taking the time to scrutinize one’s comparing habit for bad hygiene.
In the short-term, you can disrupt the endless craving loop that comparison creates. This will free you of all sorts of energy that goes into maintaining the loop. It may also spare you the hangover from a biochemical speedball that combines the lift of serotonin and its warm, fuzzy friends with the crush of cortisol and its peevish pals.
In the longer run, you can establish and strengthen new neural pathways that make sense for you and your life by thoughtfully comparing yourself to your own values and priorities, if compare you must. You can step off the hamster wheel and rest your weary legs. Repair the wear and tear and maybe, just maybe, feel more comfortable in your very own refurbished skin.
Beautiful. Also: “my very layperson…status” 😂 And “refurbished skin” !! There were many other great lines I’m too lazy to grab. Fun and playful romp through the perils of our mammal brains. “time to snap that yardstick over my knee” lol. And yes! 🕺🏽✂️🧞♂️
Your writing is so much cleverer than mine! 😭 But seriously, i love the magic you make with images, wordplays, and metaphors. This is such great stuff, Keith, and a reminder I need. Thank you!