Shall We Compete or Cooperate?

When you’re driving, and you see a car in the next lane with its turn indicator (the one nearest your lane) on, what thoughts run through your mind? I’ll go first. My thoughts range from “Oh, no you don’t!” to “I’ll make some space so they can move over.” The turn indicator is a device for safety, order and cooperation (if it’s even used – that’s another blog entirely), but it is seen as an attack – like the tiny laser light you see on the forehead of the guy who's about to get shot.

Here’s another one for you. You’re standing at the end of a long line at a grocery store. The next cashier opens up. Do you bolt for the front of that line, or let those who’ve been waiting longer get there first? I’ll tell you what I’ve started doing. Having seen too many inconsiderate, selfish people dash to be first in line, I, too sprint over only to let the ones I knew were in line before me go first. I used to just take advantage of my good timing and quick feet until I shopped at Byerly’s in St. Paul. The cashiers there walk up to someone nearing the cashier in a long line, tell them that they’re going to open register number four, would they like to step over there? Smart. Fair. Cooperative.

Why are we so competitive? Is it because most of us will never be so good at anything to successfully compete that we take advantage of every mundane situation to feel victorious? Are we so wrapped up in ourselves that we don’t see our place in society? Do we want to be noticed and lauded? (Let me tell you: You want to be lauded? Let someone into the lane ahead of you when they put on their turn indicator. Let someone in line ahead of you once in a while.) Or is it more basic? We’ve been taught to be competitive.

There’s nothing wrong with competition in the right arena. There’s nothing wrong with handing out awards to the first two or three winners and nothing to those who lost or didn’t place. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be the best, but there are some things that are immeasurable. I lost two beloved piano students because their father wanted them to play in piano competitions. I could have responded better, I admit. I told him that foot races were competitive, not music making. His daughters were ages eight and eleven, beginner level, and he wanted them to compete in piano playing.

Since my youth, society has taught me to be competitive. My school’s better than your school. (Even though I’d never attended any other school.) Girls are smarter than boys. (The only proof offered was my gender.) She’s my best friend. (You’re not.) Those seemingly innocent taunts and comments weigh heavily in our minds, I believe. They’re seeds that grow into our inability or unwillingness to live more cooperatively as we age.

“America First” was a rally call in the last election. I assume most countries have their own equivalents of such a slogan. But, how about "Humanity First"? I think we have enough problems as a race (hunger, poverty, pollution, global warming—you know . . .) without dividing ourselves into camps to protect our own interests at the expense of others, like having off-season produce available even though it's expensive and, consequently, often spoils and gets trashed while others are starving or shipping trash to others’ backyards for them to deal with because we won’t recycle or package things better.

What do we get out of it? A sense (more often false) of being better than those around us. It’s disturbing to me to hear sportscasters comment about how disappointing the silver medalist must be feeling after missing the gold by .00003 seconds. Think of all the years of disciplined training, personal growth, levels of fitness achieved and other victories being dismissed because of the color of a medal from a single performance. Competitiveness invites a sense of being lesser when don’t have the most followers, friends, views, shares or likes. We feel common, as though there’s something wrong with that. And competitiveness promotes divisiveness.

I’m tired of competitiveness and all its consequences – external and internal.

Here’s another rally call: “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.” (Keep the word country in that sentence or change it to company or neighbor.) That’s cooperation. That’s recognizing one’s role in society. I learned an important lesson about my role in society when I worked at the Renaissance Festival. I sang in a madrigal group that wasn’t exactly an audience magnet like Puke and Snot, Zilch the Torysteller and The Tortuga Twins. Those who didn’t just pass us by would sit to eat their lunches, get out of the sun or rain, check their phones or (my least favorite) chat. It really bothered me. Then, one day as I was walking around the festival grounds, I walked past a harpist. What a lovely sound, I thought, as I walked on and smelled the rosewater booth and felt the gentle autumn breeze. That’s when it hit me that my little madrigal group was as much a part of the ambiance of the festival as that harpist (who had no seated audience) and The Dew Drop Jugglers with their standing room only crowds. Even though I didn't take the time to sit and listen, I would have missed hearing that harpist (and the next, and the next, because you can't toss a ducat at the festival without striking a harpist). That realization gave me more pride in the music I helped present and eased the envy I felt seeing the large crowds for the Washing Well Wenches at the next stage.

Competitiveness starts when we’re young, and it grows. Competitiveness is what drives congress to stalemate the seating of a Supreme Court Judge or filibuster to stop the passage of a bill. It is the foundation of the rationale of congress to impeach one president with all the witnesses they can find and overlook the sins of another by not calling any witnesses and, consequently, tying the hands of justice. Obviously, competitiveness, as it grows, gets ugly and destructive.

As the final interview in the application process to the State Department and Foreign Service, applicants are grouped together (about 5 or 6), each of who has a project. This group is given a budget that will fund only some of these projects. Each applicant had to pitch their project, but they also have to listen to the others’ projects and consider the budget and the importance of each project in the mission. Many applicants are weeded out during this part of the interview because they demonstrate that they cannot consider the greater good over their own agenda. It is my belief that every senator and representative and other higher-ranking government officials should have to go through that interview process before being allowed to run for office. (I have written this to my senators and representatives. I’m sure you can guess how that went over.) But I’m serious. Why should anyone work in congress who can’t work well with others and put aside their own or their party’s agendas for the greater good of the country? 

I can’t change congress. What I can do is set an example. I can drive cooperatively which will free up the time of highway patrolmen and women who would be pulling me over for stupid driving. I can set an example on the level where I’m at and hope it eventually wicks up to those with public jobs. I challenge you, dear reader, to consider where in your life you can live more cooperatively. Write me with any ideas that come to mind.